He leaned forward, and suddenly his voice and his whole personality changed. He suddenly became dangerous.
“I who speak to you—I know the murderer of Mr. Ackroyd is in this room now. It is to the murderer I speak. To-morrow the truth goes to Inspector Raglan. You understand?”
There was a tense silence. Into the midst of it came the old Breton woman with a telegram on a salver. Poirot tore it open.
Blunt’s voice rose abrupt and resonant.
“The murderer is amongst us, you say? You know—which?”
Poirot had read the message. He crumpled it up in his hand.
“I know—now.”
He tapped the crumpled ball of paper.
“What is that?” said Raymond sharply.
“A wireless message—from a steamer now on her way to the United States.”