‘Exactly; and as I am not an imbecile, it is not with the gallows I threaten you—but with publicity. Publicity! I see that you do not like the word. I had an idea that you would not. My little ideas, you know, they are very valuable to me. Come, signor, your only chance is to be frank with me. I do not ask to know whose indiscretions brought you to England. I know this much, you came for the special purpose of seeing Count Foscatini.’

‘He was not a count,’ growled the Italian.

‘I have already noted the fact that his name does not appear in the Almanach de Gotha. Never mind, the title of count is often useful in the profession of blackmailing.’

‘I suppose I might as well be frank. You seem to know a good deal.’

‘I have employed my grey cells to some advantage. Come, Signor Ascanio, you visited the dead man on the Tuesday morning—that is so, is it not?’

‘Yes; but I never went there on the following evening. There was no need. I will tell you all. Certain information concerning a man of great position in Italy had come into this scoundrel’s possession. He demanded a big sum of money in return for the papers. I came over to England to arrange the matter. I called upon him by appointment that morning. One of the young secretaries of the Embassy was with me. The Count was more reasonable than I had hoped, although even then the sum of money I paid him was a huge one.’

‘Pardon, how was it paid?’

‘In Italian notes of comparatively small denomination. I paid over the money then and there. He handed me the incriminating papers. I never saw him again.’

‘Why did you not say all this when you were arrested?’

‘In my delicate position I was forced to deny any association with the man.’

‘And how do you account for the events of the evening then?’

‘I can only think that someone must have deliberately impersonated me. I understand that no money was found in the flat.’

Poirot looked at him and shook his head.

‘Strange,’ he murmured. ‘We all have the little grey cells. And so few of us know how to use them. Good morning, Signor Ascanio. I believe your story. It is very much as I had imagined. But I had to make sure.’

After bowing his guest out, Poirot returned to his armchair and smiled at me.

‘Let us hear M. le Capitaine Hastings on the case.’

‘Well, I suppose Ascanio is right—somebody impersonated him.’