Загадкове пригода в Стайлзі
Chapter X. The Arrest
”
“Well,whatdoyouthink?”Iaskedfeebly.
“Ofwhat?”
“Ofthearrest?”
“WhatshouldIthink?ApparentlyheisaGermanspy;sothegardenerhadtoldJohn.”
Herfaceandvoicewereabsolutelycoldandexpressionless.Didshecare,ordidshenot?
Shemovedawayasteportwo,andfingeredoneoftheflowervases.
“Thesearequitedead.Imustdothemagain.Wouldyoumindmoving—thankyou,Mr.Hastings.”Andshewalkedquietlypastmeoutofthewindow,withacoollittlenodofdismissal.
No,surelyshecouldnotcareforBauerstein.Nowomancouldactherpartwiththaticyunconcern.
Poirotdidnotmakehisappearancethefollowingmorning,andtherewasnosignoftheScotlandYardmen.
But,atlunch-time,therearrivedanewpieceofevidence—orratherlackofevidence.Wehadvainlytriedtotracethefourthletter,whichMrs.Inglethorphadwrittenontheeveningprecedingherdeath.Oureffortshavingbeeninvain,wehadabandonedthematter,hopingthatitmightturnupofitselfoneday.Andthisisjustwhatdidhappen,intheshapeofacommunication,whicharrivedbythesecondpostfromafirmofFrenchmusicpublishers,acknowledgingMrs.Inglethorp’scheque,andregrettingtheyhadbeenunabletotraceacertainseriesofRussianfolksongs.Sothelasthopeofsolvingthemystery,bymeansofMrs.Inglethorp’scorrespondenceonthefatalevening,hadtobeabandoned.
Justbeforetea,IstrolleddowntotellPoirotofthenewdisappointment,butfound,tomyannoyance,thathewasoncemoreout.
