"But, Monsieur, I was nowhere near... What could I have seen or heard? I was on the deck below when it happened, on the other side of the boat, even. It is impossible that I should have heard anything. Naturally, if I had been unable to sleep, if I had mounted the stairs, then perhaps I might have seen this assassin, this monster, enter or leave Madame's cabin, but as it is -"
She threw out her hands appealingly to Simon.
"Monsieur, I implore you - you see how it is? What can I say?"
"My good girl," said Simon harshly, "don't be a fool. Nobody thinks you saw or heard anything. You'll be quite all right. I'll look after you. Nobody's accusing you of anything."
Louise murmured, "Monsieur is very good," and dropped her eyelids modestly.
"We take it, then, that you saw and heard nothing?" asked Race impatiently.
"That is what I said, Monsieur."
"And you know of no one who had a grudge against your mistress?"
To the surprise of her listeners Louise nodded her head vigorously. "Oh, yes. That I do know. To that question I can answer Yes most emphatically."
Poirot said, "You mean Mademoiselle de Bellefort?"
"She, certainly. But it is not of her I speak. There was someone else on this boat who disliked Madame, who was very angry because of the way Madame had injured him."
"Good Lord!" Simon exclaimed. "What's all this?"
Louise went on, still emphatically nodding her head with the utmost vigour.
"Yes, yes, yes, it is as I say! It concerns the former maid of Madame - my predecessor. There was a man, one of the engineers on this boat, who wanted her to marry him. And my predecessor, Marie her name was, she would have done so. But Madame Doyle, she made inquiries and she discovered that this Fleetwood already he had a wife - a wife of colour you understand, a wife of this country. She had gone back to her own people, but he was still married to her, you understand. And so Madame she told all this to Marie, and Marie she was very unhappy and she would not see Fleetwood any more. And this Fleetwood, he was infuriated, and when he found out that this Madame Doyle had formerly been Mademoiselle zhaiyuedu.com Ridgeway he tells me that he would like to kill her! Her interference ruined his life, he said."
Louise paused triumphantly.
"This is interesting," said Race.
Poirot turned to Simon.
"Had you any idea of this?"
"None whatever," Simon replied with patent sincerity. "I doubt if zhaiyuedu.com even knew the man was on the boat. She had probably forgotten all about the incident."
He turned sharply to the maid.
"Did you say anything to Mrs Doyle about this?"
"No, Monsieur, of course not."
Poirot asked, "Do you know anything about your mistress's pearls?"
"Her pearls?" Louise's eyes opened very wide. "She was wearing them last night."
"You saw them when she came to bed?"
"Yes, Monsieur."
"Where did she put them?"
"On the table by the side as always."
"That is where you last saw them?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Did you see them there this morning?"
A startled look came into the girl's face.
"Mon Dieu! I did not even look. I come up to the bed, I see - I see Madame; and then I cry out and rush out of the door, and I faint."
Hercule Poirot nodded his head.
"You did not look. But I, I have the eyes which notice, and there were no pearls on the table beside the bed this morning."
Chapter 14
Hercule Poirot's observation had not been at fault. There were no pearls on the table by zhaiyuedu.com Doyle's bed.
Louise Bourget was bidden to make a search among zhaiyuedu.com's belongings.
According to her, all was in order. Only the pearls had disappeared. As they emerged from the cabin a steward was waiting to tell them that breakfast had been served in the smoking-room.
As they passed along the deck, Race paused to look over the rail.
"Ah! I see you have had an idea, my friend."
"Yes. It suddenly came to me, when Fanthorp mentioned thinking he had heard a splash, that I too had been awakened sometime last night by a splash. It's perfectly possible that, after the murder, the murderer threw the pistol overboard."
Poirot said slowly, "You really think that is possible, my friend?" Race shrugged his shoulders.
"It's a suggestion. After all, the pistol wasn't anywhere in the cabin. First thing I looked for."
"All the same," said Poirot, "it is incredible that it should have been thrown overboard."
Race asked, "Where is it then?"
Poirot replied thoughtfully, "If it is not in Madame Doyle's cabin, there is, logically, only one other place where it could be."
"Where's that?"
"In Mademoiselle de Bellefort's cabin."
Race said thoughtfully: "Yes. I see -"
