Убийство на поле для гольфа

7. The Mysterious Madame Daubreuil

           “Amantellstohismistresswhathedoesnotalwaystelltohiswife.”

           “Ah!”shesprangforward.Hereyesflashedfire.“Monsieur,youinsultme!Andbeforemydaughter!Icantellyounothing.Havethegoodnesstoleavemyhouse!”

           Thehonoursundoubtedlyrestedwiththelady.WelefttheVillaMargueritelikeashamefacedpackofschoolboys.Themagistratemutteredangryejaculationstohimself.Poirotseemedlostinthought.Suddenlyhecameoutofhisreveriewithastart,andinquiredofM.Hautetiftherewasagoodhotelnearathand.

           “Thereisasmallplace,theHoteldesBains,onthissideoftown.Afewhundredyardsdowntheroad.Itwillbehandyforyourinvestigations.Weshallseeyouinthemorningthen,Ipresume?”

           “Yes,Ithankyou,M.Hautet.”

           Withmutualcivilities,wepartedcompany,PoirotandIgoingtowardsMerlinville,andtheothersreturningtotheVillaGeneviève.

           “TheFrenchpolicesystemisverymarvellous,”saidPoirot,lookingafterthem.“Theinformationtheypossessabouteveryone’slife,downtothemostcommonplacedetail,isextraordinary.Thoughhehasonlybeenherealittleoversixweeks,theyareperfectlywellacquaintedwithM.Renauld’stastesandpursuits,andatamoment’snoticetheycanproduceinformationastoMadameDaubreuil’sbankingaccount,andthesumsthathavelatelybeenpaidin!Undoubtedlythedossierisagreatinstitution.Butwhatisthat?”Heturnedsharply.

           Afigurewasrunninghatless,downtheroadafterus.ItwasMartheDaubreuil.

           “Ibegyourpardon,”shecriedbreathlessly,asshereachedus.

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