Dumb Witness (Hercule Poirot 16)

“You can’t take that for a walk.”

Bob sighed, turned and slowly ejected the ball inside the gate. He looked at it anxiously then passed through.

He looked up at me.

“If you say so, master, I suppose it’s all right.”

I drew a long breath.

“My word, Poirot, it’s good to have a dog again.”

“The spoils of war,” said Poirot. “But I would remind you, my friend, that it was to me that Miss Lawson presented Bob, not to you.”

“Possibly,” I said. “But you’re not really any good with a dog, Poirot. You don’t understand dog psychology! Now Bob and I understand each other perfectly, don’t we?”

“Woof,” said Bob in energetic assent.

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