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Rh Big Four on the brain to that extent, whatever Japp may say.”

The door of the flat was opened to us by a man-servant with a peculiarly wooden face. It seemed, impossible to believe that that impassive countenance could ever display emotion.

Poirot presented a card on which Japp had scribbled a few words of introduction, and we were shown into a low, long room furnished with rich hangings and curios. One or two wonderful ikons hung upon the walls, and exquisite Persian rugs lay upon the floor. A samovar stood upon a table.

I was examining one of the ikons which I judged to be of considerable value, and turned to see Poirot prone upon the floor. Beautiful as the rug was, it hardly seemed to me to necessitate such close attention.

“Is it such a very wonderful specimen?” I asked.

“Eh? Oh! the rug? But no, it was not the rug I was remarking. But it is a beautiful specimen, far too beautiful to have a large nail wantonly driven through the middle of it. No, Hastings,” as I came forward, “the nail is not there now. But the hole remains.”

A sudden sound behind us made me spin round, and Poirot spring nimbly to his feet. A