The Regatta Mystery and Other Stories (Hercule Poirot 21)

pacing up and down on the opposite side of the

street.

Hercule Poirot nodded to himself. "Definitive

64

Agatha Chrt

rnent," he said. "There is a mouse in this hole!

What move must the cat make now?"

His decision took him to the nearest post office.

Here he put through a couple of telephone calls.

The result seemed to be satisfactory. He bent his

steps to Charman's Green police station, where he

inquired for Inspector Sims.

Inspector Sims was a big, burly man with a

hearty manner. "M. Poirot?" he inquired. "I

thought so. I've just this minute had a telephone

call through from the chief constable about you.

He said you'd be dropping in. Come into my of-fice."

The door shut, the inspector waved Poirot to

one chair, settled himself in another, and turned a

gaze of acute inquiry upon his visitor.

"You're very quick onto the mark, M. Poirot.

Come to see us about this Rosebank case almost

before we know it is a case. What put you onto

it?"

Poirot drew out the letter he had received and

handed it to the inspector. The latter read it with

some interest.

"Interest

ing," he said. "The trouble is, it might

mean so many things. Pity she couldn't have been