“Nothing—important? No—papers or anything like that?”
“To tell you the truth, Reggie, I can’t tell you exactly.”
“Very hush-hush, is it? I see.”
Reggie ran up the stairs, paused for a moment halfway with a frown on his face, and then continued his ascent and tapped on his mother’s door. Her voice bade him enter.
Lady Julia was sitting up in bed, scribbling figures on the back of an envelope.
“Good morning, darling.” She looked up, then said sharply:
“Reggie, is anything the matter?”
“Nothing much, but it seems there was a burglary last night.”
“A burglary? What was taken?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s all very hush-hush. There’s some odd kind of private inquiry agent downstairs asking everybody questions.”
“How extraordinary!”
“It’s rather unpleasant,” said Reggie slowly, “staying in a house when that kind of thing happens.”
“What did happen exactly?”
“Don’t know. It was some time after we all went to bed. Look out, Mother, you’ll have that tray off.”
He rescued the breakfast tray and carried it to a table by the window.
“Was money taken?”
“I tell you I don’t know.”
Lady Julia said slowly:
“I suppose this inquiry man is asking everybody questions?”
“I suppose so.”
“Where they were last night? All that kind of thing?”
“Probably. Well, I can’t tell him much. I went straight up to bed and was asleep in next to no time.”
Lady Julia did not answer.
“I say, Mother, I suppose you couldn’t let me have a spot of cash. I’m absolutely broke.”
“No, I couldn’t,” his mother replied decisively. “I’ve got the most frightful overdraft myself. I don’t know what your father will say when he hears about it.”
There was a tap at the door and Sir George entered.
“Ah, there you are, Reggie. Will you go down to the library? M. Hercule Poirot wants to see you.”
Poirot had just concluded an interview with the redoubtable Mrs. Macatta.
A few brief questions had elicited the information that Mrs. Macatta had gone up to bed just before eleven, and had heard or seen nothing helpful.
Poirot slid gently from the topic of the burglary to more personal matters. He himself had a great admiration for Lord Mayfield. As a member of the general public he felt that Lord Mayfield was a truly great man. Of course, Mrs. Macatta, being in the know, would have a far better means of estimating that than himself.