He glared at them, looking from one face to another.
"Oh, I know," he went on. "Good looks and a charming, easy manner. It took me in once upon a time. I suppose he pretended to be broken-hearted when you broke the news to him—that is, if he didn't know it already."
"Oh, it came as a complete surprise to him. He was overwhelmed."
"Darned young hypocrite," said Van Aldin. "Simulated great grief, I suppose?"
"N—no," said the Commissary cautiously. "I would not quite say that—eh, M. Carrège?"
The Magistrate brought the tips of his fingers together, and half closed his eyes.
"Shock, bewilderment, horror—these things, yes," he declared judicially. "Great sorrow—no—I should not say that."
Hercule Poirot spoke once more.
"Permit me to ask, M. Van Aldin, does M. Kettering benefit by the death of his wife?"
"He benefits to the tune of a couple of millions," said Van Aldin.
"Dollars?"
"Pounds. I settled that sum on Ruth absolutely on her marriage. She made no will and leaves no children, so the money will go to her husband."
"Whom she was on the point of divorcing," murmured Poirot. "Ah, yes—précisément."
The Commissary turned and looked sharply at him.
"Do you mean" he began.
