“I have had ideas,” said Katherine slowly, “curious ideas. That is why I ask you what you were doing in Paris, Monsieur Poirot.”

“When I wrote to you⁠—”

“From the Ritz?”

A curious smile came over Poirot’s face.

“Yes, as you say, from the Ritz. I am a luxurious person sometimes⁠—when a millionaire pays.”

“The Russian Embassy,” said Katherine, frowning. “No, I don’t see where that comes in.”

“It does not come in directly, Mademoiselle. I went there to get certain information. I saw a particular personage and I threatened him⁠—yes, Mademoiselle, I, Hercule Poirot, threatened him.”

“With the police?”