Page:The Big Four (Christie).pdf/182

 The smiling Oriental caressed his smooth cheek, watching me obliquely out of his narrow eyes.

“You go too fast,” he said purringly. “That does not quite—settle it. In fact, to ‘get hold of you’ as you express it, is not really our objective. But through you, we hope to get hold of your friend, M. Hercule Poirot.”

“I’m afraid you won’t do that,” I said, with a short laugh.

“What I suggest is this,” continued the other, his words running on as though he had not heard me. “You will write M. Hercule Poirot a letter, such a letter as will induce him to hasten hither and join you.”

“I shall do no such thing,” I said angrily.

“The consequences of refusal will be disagreeable.”

“Damn your consequences.”

“The alternative might be death!”

A nasty shiver ran down my spine, but I endeavoured to put a bold face upon it.

“It’s no good threatening me, and bullying me. Keep your threats for Chinese cowards.”

“My threats are very real ones, Captain Hastings. I ask you again, will you write this letter?”

“I will not, and what’s more, you daren’t kill me. You’d have the police on your tracks in no time.”