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“That is rather a difficult question, monsieur,” he said gravely. “If you ask me I must reply frankly that in my opinion Mrs. Leidner was clearly in dread of someone or something. She was definitely nervous about strangers. I imagine she had a reason for this nervousness of hers—but I know nothing. She did not confide in me.”

Poirot cleared his throat and consulted some notes that he held in his hand. “Two nights ago I understand there was a scare of burglary.”

Father Lavigny replied in the affirmative and retailed his story of the light seen in the antika room and the subsequent futile search.

“You believe, do you not, that some unauthorized person was on the premises at that time?”

“I don’t know what to think,” said Father Lavigny frankly. “Nothing was taken or disturbed in any way. It might have been one of the houseboys—”

“Or a member of the expedition?”

“Or a member of the expedition. But in that case there would be no reason for the person not admitting the fact.”

“But it might equally have been a stranger from outside?”

“I suppose so.”

“Supposing a stranger had been on the premises, could he have concealed himself successfully during the following day and until the afternoon of the day following that?”

He asked the question half of Father Lavigny and half of Dr. Leidner. Both men considered the question carefully.

“I hardly think it would be possible,” said Dr. Leidner at last with some reluctance. “I don’t see where he could possibly conceal himself, do you, Father Lavigny?”

“No—no—I don’t.”

Both men seemed reluctant to put the suggestion aside.

Poirot turned to Miss Johnson.

“And you, mademoiselle? Do you consider such a hypothesis feasible?”

After a moment’s thought Miss Johnson shook her head.

“No,” she said. “I don’t. Where could anyone hide? The bedrooms are all in use and, in any case, are sparsely furnished. The darkroom, the drawing office and the laboratory were all in use the next day—so were all these rooms. There are no cupboards or corners. Perhaps, if the servants were in collusion—”

“That is possible, but unlikely,” said Poirot.

He turned once more to Father Lavigny.

“There is another point. The other day Nurse Leatheran here noticed you talking to a man outside. She had previously noticed that same man trying to peer in at one of the windows on the outside. It rather looks as though the man were hanging round the place deliberately.”

“That is possible, of course,” said Father Lavigny thoughtfully.

“Did you speak to this man first, or did he speak to you?”

Father Lavigny considered for a moment or two.

“I believe—yes, I am sure, that he spoke to me.”

“What did he say?”

Father Lavigny made an effort of memory.

“He said, I think, something to the effect was this the American expedition house? And then something else about the Americans employing a lot of men on the work. I did not really understand him very well, but I endeavoured to keep up a conversation so as to improve my Arabic. I thought, perhaps, that being a townee he would understand me better than the men on the dig do.”

“Did you converse about anything else?”

“As far as I remember, I said Hassanieh was a big town—and we then agreed that Baghdad was bigger—and I think he asked whether I was an Armenian or a Syrian Catholic—something of that kind.”

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