Убийство на поле для гольфа
6. The Scene of the Crime
Themarksyoucomplainofweremadebytheworkmenwhodiscoveredthebody.”
Theothergrunteddisgustedly.
“Icanseethetrackswherethethreeofthemcamethroughthehedge—buttheywerecunning.YoucanjustrecognizethecentrefootmarksasthoseofM.Renauld,butthoseoneithersidehavebeencarefullyobliterated.Notthattherewouldreallybemuchtoseeanywayonthishardground,buttheyweren’ttakinganychances.”
“Theexternalsign,”saidPoirot.“Thatiswhatyouseek,eh?”
Theotherdetectivestared.
“Ofcourse.”
AveryfaintsmilecametoPoirot’slips.Heseemedabouttospeak,butcheckedhimself.Hebentdowntowhereaspadewaslying.
“That’swhatthegravewasdugwith,rightenough,”saidGiraud.“Butyou’llgetnothingfromit.ItwasRenauld’sownspade,andthemanwhouseditworegloves.Heretheyare.”Hegesticulatedwithhisfoottowheretwosoiledearth-stainedgloveswerelying.“Andthey’reRenauld’stoo—oratleasthisgardener’s.Itellyou,themenwhoplannedoutthiscrimeweretakingnochances.Themanwasstabbedwithhisowndagger,andwouldhavebeenburiedwithhisownspade.Theycountedonleavingnotraces!ButI’llbeatthem.There’salwayssomething!AndImeantofindit.”
ButPoirotwasnowapparentlyinterestedinsomethingelse,ashortdiscolouredpieceoflead-pipingwhichlaybesidethespade.Hetoucheditdelicatelywithhisfinger.
“Anddoesthis,too,belongtothemurderedman?”heasked,andIthoughtIdetectedasubtleflavourofironyinthequestion.
