Загадкове пригода в Стайлзі
Chapter VIII. Fresh Suspicions
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“Doyouremember,mademoiselle,thatIonceaskedyoutohelpme?”
“Yes,Ido.”Theladynodded.“AndItoldyouI’dhelpyouwithpleasure—tohangAlfredInglethorp.”
“Ah!”Poirotstudiedherseriously.“MissHoward,Iwillaskyouonequestion.Ibegofyoutoreplytoittruthfully.”
“Nevertelllies,”repliedMissHoward.
“Itisthis.DoyoustillbelievethatMrs.Inglethorpwaspoisonedbyherhusband?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”sheaskedsharply.“Youneedn’tthinkyourprettyexplanationsinfluencemeintheslightest.I’lladmitthatitwasn’thewhoboughtstrychnineatthechemist’sshop.Whatofthat?Idaresayhesoakedflypaper,asItoldyouatthebeginning.”
“Thatisarsenic—notstrychnine,”saidPoirotmildly.
“Whatdoesthatmatter?ArsenicwouldputpoorEmilyoutofthewayjustaswellasstrychnine.IfI’mconvincedhedidit,itdoesn’tmatterajottomehowhedidit.”
“Exactly.Ifyouareconvincedhedidit,”saidPoirotquietly.“Iwillputmyquestioninanotherform.DidyoueverinyourheartofheartsbelievethatMrs.Inglethorpwaspoisonedbyherhusband?”
“Goodheavens!”criedMissHoward.“Haven’tIalwaystoldyouthemanisavillain?Haven’tIalwaystoldyouhewouldmurderherinherbed?Haven’tIalwayshatedhimlikepoison?”
“Exactly,”saidPoirot.“Thatbearsoutmylittleideaentirely.
