“We’ll verify that statement,” remarked Raglan. “I don’t think he’s lying, though. But he’s got to come clean with a statement as to what he was doing at Fernly. It looks to me as though we’d got our blackmailer all right. On the other hand, granted his story’s correct, he couldn’t have had anything to do with the actual murder. He’d got ten pounds on him when he was arrested⁠—rather a large sum. I fancy that forty pounds went to him⁠—the numbers of the notes didn’t correspond, but of course he’d have changed them first thing. Mr. Ackroyd must have given him the money, and he made off with it as fast as possible. What was that about Kent being his birthplace? What’s that got to do with it?”

“Nothing whatever,” said Poirot mildly. “A little idea of mine, that was all. Me, I am famous for my little ideas.”

“Are you really?” said Raglan, studying him with a puzzled expression.