Убийство на поле для гольфа

5. Mrs. Renauld’s Story

           

           Theexaminingmagistratestrokedhisbearddisconsolately.

           “Andyoucanfixthetimeofthisoutrage?”

           “Yes,Idistinctlyrememberhearingtheclockonthemantelpiecestriketwo.”Shenoddedtowardsaneight-daytravellingclockinaleathercasewhichstoodinthecentreofthechimney-piece.

           Poirotrosefromhisseat,scrutinizedtheclockcarefully,andnodded,satisfied.

           “Andheretoo,”exclaimedM.Bex,“isawristwatch,knockedoffthedressing-tablebytheassassins,withoutdoubt,andsmashedtoatoms.Littledidtheyknowitwouldtestifyagainstthem.”

           Gentlyhepickedawaythefragmentsofbrokenglass.Suddenlyhisfacechangedtooneofutterstupefaction.

           “MonDieu!”heejaculated.

           “Whatisit?”

           “Thehandsofthewatchpointtoseveno’clock!”

           “What?”criedtheexaminingmagistrate,astonished.

           ButPoirot,deftasever,tookthebrokentrinketfromthestartledcommissary,andheldittohisear.Thenhesmiled.

           “Theglassisbroken,yes,butthewatchitselfisstillgoing.”

           Theexplanationofthemysterywasgreetedwitharelievedsmile.Butthemagistratebethoughthimofanotherpoint.

           “Butsurelyitisnotseveno’clocknow?”

           “No,”saidPoirotgently,“itisafewminutesafterfive.Possiblythewatchgains,isthatso,madame?”

           Mrs.Renauldwasfrowningperplexedly.

           “Itdoesgain,”sheadmitted,“butI’veneverknownittogainquitesomuchasthat.”

           Withagestureofimpatience,themagistrateleftthematterofthewatchandproceededwithhisinterrogatory.

           “Madame,thefrontdoorwasfoundajar.

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