Poirot gently collected every fragment of shell from his plate, placed them in the egg-cup, and reversed the empty egg-shell on top of them. This little operation concluded, he smiled on the neat effect, and then beamed affectionately on us both.
"Come, my friends, you are men of intelligence. Ask yourselves the question which I asked myself. 'If I were this man, where should I hide?' Hastings, what do you say?"
"Well," I said, "I'm rather inclined to think I'd not do a bolt at all. I'd stay in London—in the heart of things, travel by tubes and buses; ten to one I'd never be recognized. There's safety in a crowd."
Poirot turned inquiringly to Japp.
"I don't agree. Get clear away at once–that's the only chance. I would have had plenty of time to prepare things beforehand. I'd have a yacht waiting, with steam up, and I'd be off to one of the most out-of-the-way corners of the world before the hue and cry began!"
We both looked at Poirot. "What do you say, monsieur?"
For a moment he remained silent. Then a very curious smile flitted across his face.
