The Inspector seemed a little embarrassed by the question.

“Well, if it weren’t for that curry business, I’d be for accident every time. There’s no sense in holding a live man’s head in the fire⁠—why, he’d scream the house down.”

“Ah!” said Poirot in a low voice. “Fool that I have been. Triple imbecile! You are a cleverer man than I am, Japp.”

Japp was rather taken aback by the compliment⁠—Poirot being usually given to exclusive self-praise. He reddened and muttered something about there being a lot of doubt about that.

He led the way through the house to the room where the tragedy had occurred⁠— Mr. Paynter’s study. It was a wide, low room, with book-lined walls and big leather armchairs.