Убийство на поле для гольфа

11. Jack Renauld

           

           Theboymadeashiveringgestureofnegation,andthemagistrate,alwaysdisposedtocrossGiraudwheneverpossible,replied.

           “Butno—notatpresent.M.Bexwillbesokindastobringittoushere.”

           Thecommissarylefttheroom.StonorcrossedtoJack,andwrunghimbythehand.Poirothadrisenandwasadjustingapairofcandlesticksthatstruckhistrainedeyeasbeingashadeaskew.Themagistratewasreadingthemysteriouslove-letterthroughalasttime,clingingdesperatelytohisfirsttheoryofjealousyandastabintheback.

           Suddenlythedoorburstopenandthecommissaryrushedin.

           “M.lejuge!M.lejuge!”

           “Butyes.Whatisit?”

           “Thedagger!Itisgone!”

           “Comment—gone?”

           “Vanished.Disappeared.Theglassjarthatcontaineditisempty!”

           “What?”Icried.“Impossible.Why,onlythismorningIsaw—”Thewordsdiedonmytongue.

           Buttheattentionoftheentireroomwasdivertedtome.

           “Whatisthatyousay?”criedthecommissary.“Thismorning?”

           “Isawittherethismorning,”Isaidslowly.“Aboutanhourandahalfago,tobeaccurate.”

           “Youwenttotheshed,then?Howdidyougetthekey?”

           “Iaskedthesergentdevilleforit.”

           “Andyouwentthere?Why?”

           Ihesitated,butintheendIdecidedthattheonlythingtodowastomakeacleanbreastofit.

           “M.lejuge,”Isaid.“Ihavecommittedagravefault,forwhichImustcraveyourindulgence.”

           “Ehbien!Proceed,monsieur.”

           “Thefactofthematteris,”Isaid,wishingmyselfanywhereelsethanwhereIwas,“thatImetayounglady,anacquaintanceofmine.

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