“Go on with you, moosior,” said Japp good-humouredly. “I’ve read of supercriminals many a time, but I’ve never come across them. Well, you’ve heard Captain Kent’s story. Anything further I can do for you?”
“Yes, my good friend. You can give me the address of Mrs. Halliday—and also a few words of introduction to her if you will be so kind.”
Thus it was that the following day saw us bound for Chetwynd Lodge, near the village of Chobham in Surrey.
Mrs. Halliday received us at once, a tall, fair woman, nervous and eager in manner. With her was her little girl, a beautiful child of five.
Poirot explained the purpose of our visit.
“Oh! Monsieur Poirot, I am so glad, so thankful. I have heard of you, of course. You will not be like these Scotland Yard people, who will not listen or try to understand. And the French police are just as bad—worse, I think. They are all convinced that my husband has gone off with some other woman. But he wasn’t like that! All he thought of in life was his work. Half our quarrels came from that. He cared for it more than he did for me.”
“Englishmen, they are like that,” said Poirot soothingly. “And if it is not work, it is the games, the sport. All those things they take au grand sérieux . Now, madame, recount to me exactly, in detail, and as methodically as you can, the exact circumstances of your husband’s disappearance.”
“My husband went to Paris on Thursday, the 20th of July. He was to meet and visit various people there connected with his work, amongst them Madame Olivier.”
Poirot nodded at the mention of the famous French woman chemist, who had eclipsed even Madame Curie in the brilliance of her