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“
Here
I
am
,
M
.
le
juge
,
at
your
service
.
Accept
my
excuses
for
not
presenting
myself
sooner
.
”
“
Not
at
all
.
Not
at
all
,
”
said
the
magistrate
,
rather
confused
.
“
Of
course
I
am
only
a
detective
,
”
continued
the
other
.
“
I
know
nothing
of
interrogatories
.
Were
I
conducting
one
,
I
should
be
inclined
to
do
so
without
an
open
window
.
Any
one
standing
outside
can
so
easily
hear
all
that
passes
.
…
But
no
matter
.
”
M
.
Hautet
flushed
angrily
.
There
was
evidently
going
to
be
no
love
lost
between
the
examining
magistrate
and
the
detective
in
charge
of
the
case
.
They
had
fallen
foul
of
each
other
at
the
start
.
Perhaps
in
any
event
it
would
have
been
much
the
same
.
To
Giraud
,
all
examining
magistrates
were
fools
,
and
to
M
.
Hautet
who
took
himself
seriously
,
the
casual
manner
of
the
Paris
detective
could
not
fail
to
give
offence
.
“
Eh
bien
,
M
.
Giraud
,
”
said
the
magistrate
rather
sharply
.
“
Without
doubt
you
have
been
employing
your
time
to
a
marvel
?
You
have
the
names
of
the
assassins
for
us
,
have
you
not
?
And
also
the
precise
spot
where
they
find
themselves
now
?
”
Unmoved
by
this
irony
,
Giraud
replied
:
“
I
know
at
least
where
they
have
come
from
.
”
“
Comment
?
”
Giraud
took
two
small
objects
from
his
pocket
and
laid
them
down
on
the
table
.
We
crowded
round
.
The
objects
were
very
simple
ones
:
the
stub
of
a
cigarette
,
and
an
unlighted
match
.
The
detective
wheeled
round
on
Poirot
.
