Убийство на поле для гольфа
27. Jack Renauld’s Story
“DoyouthinkIwishtotrumpetaloudinMerlinvillethenameofDuveen?”
ItwasindeedCinderellawhorosetogreetus.Itookherhandsinbothofmine.Myeyessaidtherest.
Poirotclearedhisthroat.
“Mesenfants,”hesaid,“forthemomentwehavenotimeforsentiment.Thereisworkaheadofus.Mademoiselle,wereyouabletodowhatIaskedyou?”
Inresponse,Cinderellatookfromherbaganobjectwrappedupinpaper,andhandeditsilentlytoPoirot.Thelatterunwrappedit.Igaveastart—foritwastheaeroplanedaggerwhichIunderstoodshehadcastintothesea.Strange,howreluctantwomenalwaysaretodestroythemostcompromisingofobjectsanddocuments!
“Trèsbien,monenfant,”saidPoirot.“Iampleasedwithyou.Gonowandrestyourself.HastingshereandIhaveworktodo.Youshallseehimtomorrow.”
“Whereareyougoing?”askedthegirl,hereyeswidening.
“Youshallhearallaboutittomorrow.”
“Becausewhereveryou’regoing,I’mcomingtoo.”
“Butmademoiselle—”
“I’mcomingtoo,Itellyou.”
Poirotrealizedthatitwasfutiletoarguefurther.Hegavein.
“Comethen,mademoiselle.Butitwillnotbeamusing.Inallprobabilitynothingwillhappen.”
Thegirlmadenoreply.
Twentyminuteslaterwesetforth.Itwasquitedarknow,aclose,oppressiveevening.PoirotledthewayoutofthetowninthedirectionoftheVillaGeneviève.ButwhenhereachedtheVillaMargueritehepaused.
“IshouldliketoassuremyselfthatallgoeswellwithJackRenauld.Comewithme,Hastings.Mademoisellewillperhapsremainoutside.
