“Do him no harm,” said Caroline. “Never worry about what you say to a man. They’re so conceited that they never believe you mean it if it’s unflattering.”
Ursula went on nervously twisting and untwisting her hands.
“When the murder was discovered and he didn’t come forward, I was terribly upset. Just for a moment I wondered—but then I knew he couldn’t—he couldn’t. … But I wished he would come forward and say openly that he’d had nothing to do with it. I knew that he was fond of Dr. Sheppard, and I fancied that perhaps Dr. Sheppard might know where he was hiding.”
She turned to me.
“That’s why I said what I did to you that day. I thought, if you knew where he was, you might pass on the message to him.”
“I?” I exclaimed.
“Why should James know where he was?” demanded Caroline sharply.
“It was very unlikely, I know,” admitted Ursula, “but Ralph had often spoken of Dr. Sheppard, and I knew that he would be likely to consider him as his best friend in King’s Abbot.”
“My dear child,” I said, “I have not the least idea where Ralph Paton is at the present moment.”
“That is true enough,” said Poirot.
“But—” Ursula held out the newspaper cutting in a puzzled fashion.