Japp threw Poirot an inquiring glance and the other gave a hardly perceptible nod.
“We won’t detain you, Miss Plenderleith,” said Japp briskly.
“Only came to ask if you could tell us the name of Mrs. Allen’s solicitor.”
“Her solicitor?” The girl shook her head. “I don’t even know that she had one.”
“Well, when she rented this house with you, someone must have drawn up the agreement?”
“No, I don’t think so. You see, I took the house, the lease is in my name. Barbara paid me half the rent. It was quite informal.”
“I see. Oh! well, I suppose there’s nothing doing then.”
“I’m sorry I can’t help you,” said Jane politely.
“It doesn’t really matter very much.” Japp turned towards the door. “Been playing golf?”
“Yes.” She flushed. “I suppose it seems rather heartless to you. But as a matter of fact it got me down rather, being here in this house. I felt I must go out and do something—tire myself—or I’d choke!”
She spoke with intensity.
Poirot said quickly:
“I comprehend, mademoiselle. It is most understandable—most natural. To sit in this house and think—no, it would not be pleasant.”
“So long as you understand,” said Jane shortly.
“You belong to a club?”
“Yes, I play at Wentworth.”
“It has been a pleasant day,” said Poirot.
“Alas, there are few leaves left on the trees now! A week ago the woods were magnificent.”
“It was quite lovely today.”
“Good afternoon, Miss Plenderleith,” said Japp formally. “I’ll let you know when there’s anything definite. As a matter of fact we have got a man detained on suspicion.”
“What man?”
She looked at them eagerly.
“Major Eustace.”
She nodded and turned away, stooping down to put a match to the fire.
“Well?” said Japp as the car turned the corner of the mews.
Poirot grinned.
“It was quite simple. The key was in the door this time.”
“And—?”
Poirot smiled.
“Eh, bien, the golf clubs had gone—”