The Count rose, picked up his handsome stick from the corner, and, with rather a curt bow, left the room.

“And that is that,” said M. Carrège. “You were quite right, M. Poirot⁠—much better to let him feel he is not suspected. Two of my men will shadow him night and day, and at the same time we will go into the question of the alibi. It seems to me rather⁠—er⁠—a fluid one.”

“Possibly,” agreed Poirot thoughtfully.

“I asked M. Kettering to come here this morning,” continued the Magistrate, “though really I doubt if we have much to ask him, but there are one or two suspicious circumstances⁠—” He paused, rubbing his nose.

“Such as?” asked Poirot.