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Chapter X. The Arrest
”But,pausingamoment,headded:“Still,itdoesnotsurpriseme.Afterall,weareonlyfourmilesfromthecoast.”
“Thecoast?”Iasked,puzzled.“Whathasthatgottodowithit?”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Surely,itisobvious!”
“Nottome.NodoubtIamverydense,butIcannotseewhattheproximityofthecoasthasgottodowiththemurderofMrs.Inglethorp.”
“Nothingatall,ofcourse,”repliedPoirot,smiling.“ButwewerespeakingofthearrestofDr.Bauerstein.”
“Well,heisarrestedforthemurderofMrs.Inglethorp——”
“What?”criedPoirot,inapparentlylivelyastonishment.“Dr.BauersteinarrestedforthemurderofMrs.Inglethorp?”
“Yes.”
“Impossible!Thatwouldbetoogoodafarce!Whotoldyouthat,myfriend?”
“Well,nooneexactlytoldme,”Iconfessed.“Butheisarrested.”
“Oh,yes,verylikely.Butforespionage,monami.”
“Espionage?”Igasped.
“Precisely.”
“NotforpoisoningMrs.Inglethorp?”
“NotunlessourfriendJapphastakenleaveofhissenses,”repliedPoirotplacidly.
“But—butIthoughtyouthoughtsotoo?”
Poirotgavemeonelook,whichconveyedawonderingpity,andhisfullsenseoftheutterabsurdityofsuchanidea.
“Doyoumeantosay,”Iasked,slowlyadaptingmyselftothenewidea,“thatDr.Bauersteinisaspy?”
Poirotnodded.
“Haveyouneversuspectedit?”
“Itneverenteredmyhead.
