"Good morning," said Kettering. He went out, banging the door behind him.
Poirot leaned forward and spoke sharply, as soon as the young man was out of the room.
"Tell me," he said peremptorily, "when did you speak of these rubies to M. Kettering?"
"I have not spoken of them," said M. Carrège. "It was only yesterday afternoon that we learnt about them from M. Van Aldin."
"Yes; but there was a mention of them in the Comte's letter."
M. Carrège looked pained.
"Naturally I did not speak of that letter to M. Kettering," he said in a shocked voice. "It would have been most indiscreet at the present juncture of affairs."
Poirot leaned forward and tapped the table.
"Then how did he know about them?" he demanded softly. "Madame could not have told him, for he has not seen her for three weeks. It seems unlikely that either M. Van Aldin or his secretary would have mentioned them; their interviews with him have been on entirely different lines, and there has not been any hint or reference to them in the newspapers."
He got up and took his hat and stick.
"And yet," he murmured to himself, "our gentleman knows all about them. I wonder now, yes, I wonder!"
