“I don’t suppose that I shall be in any more danger in China than you are in London,” he growled.

“That is possibly true enough,” admitted Poirot. “I hope that they will not succeed in massacring Hastings also, that is all. That would annoy me greatly.”

I interrupted this cheerful conversation to remark that I had no intention of letting myself be massacred, and shortly afterwards Ingles parted from us.

For some time we went along in silence, which Poirot at length broke by uttering a totally unexpected remark.

“I think⁠—I really think⁠—that I shall have to bring my brother into this.”

“Your brother,” I cried, astonished. “I never knew you had a brother?”

“You surprise me, Hastings. Do you not know that all celebrated detectives have brothers who would be even more celebrated than they are were it not for constitutional indolence?”