“Might as well, I suppose. After all, even if he is a bit balmy, it was a useful tip he gave me about those fingerprints. He’s got a bee in his bonnet about the man Kent, but who knows⁠—there may be something useful behind it.”

Poirot received us with his usual smiling courtesy. He listened to the information we had brought him, nodding his head now and then.

“Seems quite OK, doesn’t it?” said the inspector rather gloomily. “A chap can’t be murdering someone in one place when he’s drinking in the bar in another place a mile away.”

“Are you going to release him?”

“Don’t see what else we can do. We can’t very well hold him for obtaining money on false pretences. Can’t prove a ruddy thing.”