and then murmured very discreetly: "You are doubtless aware, M. Van Aldin, that M. Kettering was also one of the passengers on the Blue Train that night?"
The millionaire nodded.
"Heard it just before I left London," he vouchsafed laconically.
"He tells us," continued the Commissary, "that he had no idea his wife was travelling on the train."
"I bet he hadn't," said Van Aldin grimly. "It would have been rather a nasty shock to him if he'd come across her on it."
The three men looked at him questioningly.
"I'm not going to mince matters," said Van Aldin savagely. "No one knows what my poor girl has had to put up with. Derek Kettering wasn't alone. He had a lady with him."
"Ah?"
"Mirellle—the dancer."
M. Carrège and the Commissary looked at each other and nodded as though confirming some previous conversation. M. Carrège leaned back in his chair, joined his hands, and fixed his eyes on the ceiling.
"Ah!" he murmured again. "One wondered." He coughed. "One has heard rumours."
"The lady," said M. Caux, "is very notorious."
"And also," murmured Poirot softly, "very expensive."
Van Aldin had gone very red in the face. He leant forward and hit the table a bang with his fist.
"See here," he cried, "my son-in-law is a damned scoundrel!"
