Caroline said there would be no difficulty about that. Our Annie’s dearest friend was Miss Ganett’s maid, Clara. And Clara was walking out with the boots at the Three Boars. The whole thing was simplicity itself, and by the aid of Miss Ganett, who coöperated loyally, at once giving Clara leave of absence, the matter was rushed through at express speed.
It was when we were sitting down to lunch that Caroline remarked, with would-be unconcern:—
“About those boots of Ralph Paton’s.”
“Well,” I said, “what about them?”
“M. Poirot thought they were probably brown. He was wrong. They’re black.”
And Caroline nodded her head several times. She evidently felt that she had scored a point over Poirot.
I did not answer. I was puzzling over what the color of a pair of Ralph Paton’s boots had to do with the case.
CHAPTER XV
GEOFFREY RAYMOND
I was to have a further proof that day of the success of Poirot’s tactics. That challenge of his had been a subtle touch born of his knowledge of human nature. A mixture of fear and guilt had wrung the truth from Mrs. Ackroyd. She was the first to react.