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I'm not greatly mistaken, he's got something up his sleeve. Isn't that so,

moosier?"

Poirot smiled.

"I have drawn certain conclusions--yes."

Summerhaye was still looking rather sceptical, but Japp continued his

scrutiny of Poirot.

"It's this way," he said, "so far, we've only seen the case from the outside.

That's where the Yard's at a disadvantage in a case of this kind, where the

murder's only out, so to speak, after the inquest. A lot depends on being on

the spot first thing, and that's where Mr. Poirot's had the start of us. We

shouldn't have been here as soon as this even, if it hadn't been for the fact

that there was a smart doctor on the spot, who gave us the tip through the

Coroner. But you've been on the spot from the first, and you may have

picked up some little hints. From the evidence at the inquest, Mr. Inglethorp

murdered his wife as sure as I stand here, and if anyone but you hinted the

contrary I'd laugh in his face. I must say I was surprised the jury didn't

bring it in Wilful Murder against him right off. I think they would have, if it

hadn't been for the Coroner--he seemed to be holding them back."

"Perhaps, though, you have a warrant for his arrest in your pocket now,"

suggested Poirot.

A kind of wooden shutter of officialdom came down from Japp's expressive

countenance.

"Perhaps I have, and perhaps I haven't," he remarked dryly.

Poirot looked at him thoughtfully.

I am very anxious, Messieurs, that he should not be arrested."

I dare say," observed Summerhaye sarcastically.

Japp was regarding Poirot with comical perplexity.

"Can't you go a little further, Mr. Poirot? A wink's as good as a nod--from

you. You've been on the spot--and the Yard doesn't want to make any

mistakes, you know."

The Mysterious Affair at Styles