Chapter 33 Alexander Bonaparte Cust

I was not present at the interview that took place between Poirot and that strange man—Alexander Bonaparte Cust. Owing to his association with the police and the peculiar¹ circumstances of the case, Poirot had no difficulty in obtaining a Home Office order—but that order did not extend to me, and in any case it was essential, from Poirot’s point of view, that that interview should be absolutely private—the two men face to face.
He has given me, however, such a detailed² account of what passed between them that I set it down with as much confidence on paper as though I had actually been present.
Mr Cust seemed to have shrunk. His stoop was more apparent. His fingers plucked vaguely³ at his coat.
For some time, I gather, Poirot did not speak.
He sat and looked at the man opposite him
The atmosphere became restful—soothing—full of infinite leisure…
It must have been a dramatic moment—this meeting of the two adversaries⁴ in the long drama. In Poirot’s place I should have felt the dramatic thrill.
Poirot, however, is nothing if not matter-of-fact. He was absorbed in producing a certain effect upon the man opposite him.
At last he said gently:
‘Do you know who I am?’
The other shook his head.
‘No—no—I can’t say I do. Unless you are Mr Lucas’s—what do they call it?—junior. Or perhaps you come from Mr Maynard?’
(Maynard & Cole were the defending solicitors⁵.)
His tone was polite but not very interested. He seemed absorbed in some inner abstraction.
‘I am Hercule Poirot…’
Poirot said the words very gently…and watched for the effect.
Mr Cust raised his head a little.
‘Oh, yes?’
He said it as naturally as Inspector⁶ Crome might have said it—but without the superciliousness

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