“To startle Number Four?”
“To startle him at a moment when he must act quickly or not at all. And we have this great advantage—he does not know that we recognise him. He thinks that he is safe in his new disguise. How I bless Flossie Monro for telling us of that little habit of his.”
“What will happen now?” I asked.
“What can happen? He recognises the only man he fears, miraculously resurrected from the dead, at the very minute when the plans of the Big Four are in the balance. Madame Olivier and Abe Ryland lunched here to-day, and it is thought that they went to Cortina. Only we know that they have retired to their hiding place. How much do we know? That is what Number Four is asking himself at this minute. He dare take no risks. I must be suppressed at all costs. Eh bien, let him try to suppress Hercule Poirot! I shall be ready for him.”
As he finished speaking, the man at the next table got up and went out.
“He has gone to make his little arrangements,” said Poirot placidly. “Shall we have our coffee on the terrace, my friend? It would be pleasanter, I think. I will just go up and get a coat.”
