Убийство на поле для гольфа
22. I Find Love
“TheDulcibellaKids,bytheLord!”
“TheDulcibellaKids?”
“That’sit.They’resisters.Acrobats,dancersandsingers.Givequiteagoodlittleturn.They’reintheprovincessomewhere,Ibelieve—ifthey’renotresting.They’vebeenoninParisforthelasttwoorthreeweeks.”
“Canyoufindoutformeexactlywheretheyare?”
“Easyasabird.Yougohome,andI’llsendyouroundthedopeinthemorning.”
Withthispromisewetookleaveofhim.Hewasasgoodashisword.Abouteleveno’clockthefollowingday,ascribblednotereachedus.
“TheDulcibellaSistersareonatthePalaceinCoventry.Goodlucktoyou.”
Withoutmoreado,westartedforCoventry.Poirotmadenoinquiriesatthetheatre,butcontentedhimselfwithbookingstallsforthevarietyperformancethatevening.
Theshowwaswearisomebeyondwords—orperhapsitwasonlymymoodthatmadeitseemso.Japanesefamiliesbalancedthemselvesprecariously,would-befashionablemen,ingreenisheveningdressandexquisitelyslickedhair,reeledoffsocietypatteranddancedmarvellously,stoutprimadonnassangatthetopofthehumanregister,acomiccomedianendeavouredtobeMr.GeorgeRobeyandfailedsignally.
AtlastthenumberwentupwhichannouncedtheDulcibellaKids.Myheartbeatsickeningly.Thereshewas—theretheybothwere,thepairofthem,oneflaxenhaired,onedark,matchingastosize,withshortfluffyskirtsandimmensebusterbrownbows.Theylookedapairofextremelypiquantchildren.Theybegantosing.Theirvoiceswerefreshandtrue,ratherthinandmusic-hally,butattractive.
