‘I don’t know. But I can’t help thinking about them. Listen, M. Poirot. Think back carefully. Would you say from your impression of what Lady Stubbs said to you this morning that she was afraid of her cousin’s coming because he might, perhaps, know something about her which she did not want to come to the ears of her husband, or would you say that it was a direct personal fear of the man himself ?’

Poirot had no hesitation in his reply.

‘I should say it was a direct personal fear of the man himself.’

‘H’m,’ said Inspector Bland. ‘Well, I’d better have a little talk with this young man if he’s still about the place.’

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I

Although he had none of Constable Hoskins’ ingrained prejudice against foreigners, Inspector Bland took an instant dislike to Etienne de Sousa. The polished elegance of the young man, his sartorial perfection, the rich flowery smell of his brilliantined hair, all combined to annoy the inspector.

De Sousa was very sure of himself, very much at ease. He also displayed, decorously veiled, a certain aloof amusement.

‘One must admit,’ he said, ‘that life is full of surprises. I arrive here on a holiday cruise, I admire the beautiful scenery, I come to spend an afternoon with a little cousin that I have not seen for years – and what happens? First I am engulfed in a kind of carnival with coconuts whizzing past my head, and immediately afterwards, passing from comedy to tragedy, I am embroiled in a murder.’

He lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and said:

‘Not that it concerns me in any way, this murder. Indeed, I am at a loss to know why you should want to interview me.’

‘You arrived here as a stranger, Mr De Sousa –’

De Sousa interrupted:

‘And strangers are necessarily suspicious, is that it?’

‘No, no, not at all, sir. No, you don’t take my meaning. Your yacht, I understand, is moored in Helmmouth?’

‘That is so, yes.’

‘And you came up the river this afternoon in a motor launch?’

‘Again – that is so.’

‘As you came up the river, did you notice on your right a small boathouse jutting out into the river with a thatched roof and a little mooring quay underneath it?’

De Sousa threw back his handsome, dark head and frowned as he reflected.

‘Let me see, there was a creek and a small grey tiled house.’

‘Farther up the river than that, Mr De Sousa. Set amongst trees.’

‘Ah, yes, I remember now. A very picturesque spot. I did not know it was the boathouse attached to this house. If I had done so, I would have moored my boat there and come ashore. When I asked for directions I had been told to come up to the ferry itself and go ashore at the quay there.’

‘Quite so. And that is what you did?’

‘That is what I did.’