"If you do not tell me the truth, I can do nothing."
"I don't know what you mean."
"I think you do. You may rest assured, M. Van Aldin, that I know how to be discreet."
"Very well, then," said the millionaire. "I'll admit that I was not speaking the truth just now. I did have further communication with my son-in-law."
"Yes?"
"To be exact, I sent my secretary. Major Knighton, to see him, with instructions to offer him the sum of one hundred thousand pounds in cash if the divorce went through undefended."
"A pretty sum of money," said Poirot appreciatively; "and the answer of Monsieur your son-in-law?"
"He sent back word that I could go to hell," replied the millionaire succinctly.
"Ah!" said Poirot.
He betrayed no emotion of any kind. At the moment he was engaged in methodically recording facts.
"Monsieur Kettering has told the police that he neither saw nor spoke to his wife on the journey from England. Are you inclined to believe that statement, Monsieur?"
"Yes, I am," said Van Aldin. "He would take particular pains to keep out of her way, I should say."
"Why?"
"Because he had got that woman with him."
"Mirelle?"
"Yes."
"How did you come to know that fact?"
"A man of mine, whom I had put on to watch him, reported to me that they had both left by that train."
