“By threats—eh? You seriously advance that supposition?”
“Certainly. He could have threatened to reveal her identity to the Renaulds, which would probably have put an end to all hopes of her daughter’s marriage.”
“You are wrong, Hastings. He could not blackmail her, for she had the whip hand. Georges Conneau, remember, is still wanted for murder. A word from her and he is in danger of the guillotine.”
I was forced, rather reluctantly, to admit the truth of this.
“Your theory,” I remarked acidly, “is doubtless correct as to all the details?”
“My theory is the truth,” said Poirot quietly. “And the truth is necessarily correct. In your theory you made a fundamental error. You permitted your imagination to lead you astray with midnight assignations and passionate love scenes. But in investigating crime we must take our stand upon the commonplace. Shall I demonstrate my methods to you?”
“Oh, by all means let us have a demonstration!”
Poirot sat very upright and began, wagging his forefinger emphatically to emphasize his points.
“I will start as you started from the basic fact of Georges Conneau. Now the story told by Madame Beroldy in court as to the ‘Russians’ was admittedly a fabrication. If she was innocent of connivance in the crime, it was concocted by her, and by her only as she stated. If, on the other hand, she was not innocent, it might have been invented by either her or Georges Conneau.
“Now in this case we are investigating, we meet the same tale. As I pointed out to you, the facts render it very unlikely that Madame Daubreuil inspired it. So we turn to the hypothesis that the story had its origin in the brain of Georges Conneau. Very good. Georges Conneau, therefore, planned the crime with Madame Renauld as his accomplice. She is in the limelight, and
