Пуаро веде слідство
II. The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor
Alas,hewasonlytooright!”
Tearsinhereyes,shebadeusadignifiedfarewell.Poirotmadeacharacteristicgestureaswewalkeddownthedrivetogether.
“Ehbien,thatisthat!BacktoLondon,myfriend,thereappearstobenomouseinthismouse-hole.Andyet——”
“Yetwhat?”
“Aslightdiscrepancy,thatisall!Younoticedit?Youdidnot?Still,lifeisfullofdiscrepancies,andassuredlythemancannothavetakenhisownlife—thereisnopoisonthatwouldfillhismouthwithblood.No,no,Imustresignmyselftothefactthatallhereisclearandabove-board—butwhoisthis?”
Atallyoungmanwasstridingupthedrivetowardsus.Hepasseduswithoutmakinganysign,butInotedthathewasnotill-looking,withalean,deeplybronzedfacethatspokeoflifeinatropicclime.Agardenerwhowassweepingupleaveshadpausedforaminuteinhistask,andPoirotranquicklyuptohim.
“Tellme,Iprayyou,whoisthatgentleman?Doyouknowhim?”
“Idon’trememberhisname,sir,thoughIdidhearit.Hewasstayingdownherelastweekforanight.Tuesday,itwas.”
“Quick,monami,letusfollowhim.”
Wehastenedupthedriveaftertheretreatingfigure.Aglimpseofablack-robedfigureontheterraceatthesideofthehouse,andourquarryswervedandweafterhim,sothatwewerewitnessesofthemeeting.
Mrs.Maltraversalmoststaggeredwhereshestood,andherfaceblanchednoticeably.
“You,”shegasped.“Ithoughtyouwereonthesea—onyourwaytoEastAfrica?”
“Igotsomenewsfrommylawyersthatdetainedme,”explainedtheyoungman.
