Hercule Poirot and Tim Allerton in “Unfinished Business”

Hercule Poirot

Ah, Monsieur Allerton, I would like very much to have a little word with you.

What can I do for you?

Hercule Poirot

There's nothing you can do for me, monsieur, but to sit and to listen.

Right, well, I'm very good at that. You can rely on me to say, "Ooh, ah" at all the right moments.

Hercule Poirot

"Ooh, ah" will do very nicely. Thank you. [time transition, Poirot, Race, and Allerton seated at a table as a servant places a teapot before them] Merci. [to Allerton] So, to begin, your friendship with your cousin, Joanna Southwood. For the past three years, Scotland Yard has been preoccupied with a number of jewel robberies. And, you know, the method has been always exactly the same. Oui. The substitution of the original with an imitation. Attention soon focused on Mademoiselle Southwood. You see, every one of the victims had been either a friend or an acquaintance. It also became clear that she did not make the substitution herself. No, no, no. She would have a jeweler make her a copy, and then the substitution would be made by someone else. But the identity of this person has remained a mystery.

Ooh, ah.

Hercule Poirot

Oui. But over the past few days, certain facts have emerged that have been most helpful. Your attendance at the house party when one such robbery occurred, your obvious resentment of my presence here, and the discovery that the pearls belonging to Linnet Doyle were missing. But what do I find? I find that the pearls that were stolen and returned were imitation, previously substituted for the real thing. It would have been easy for Mademoiselle Southwood to have found an opportunity of examining the pearls of her friend and to have made a copy. And it was then just a question of waiting for the right moment for you to make the substitution. Eh bien, you learned that Linnet Doyle was to honeymoon in Egypt, so, oh, parfait, hein? Mademoiselle Southwood sends to you the imitation, concealed, I suggest, in a parcel of books. You then bide your time. Finally, you make the substitution, return to your cabin, and conceal them by gluing them into a rosary. Unfortunately for you, the night you chose to do the deed was the same night that Linnet Doyle was murdered. But even more unfortunately was the fact that someone saw you leave her cabin. "Ooh, ah," would you not say, Monsieur Allerton?