Агата Кристи - Dumb Witness / Безмолвный свидетель. Книга для чтения на английском языке

‘Yes, but Theresa insists that the brooch did not leave her possession.’

‘And she is perfectly right. I had overlooked a small but intensely significant fact.’

‘Very unlike you, Poirot,’ I said solemnly.

‘N’est ce pas? [559] N’est ce pas? – (фр.) Разве? But one has one’s lapses.’

‘Age will tell!’

‘Age has nothing to do with it,’ said Poirot coldly.

‘Well, what is the significant fact?’ I asked as we turned in at the entrance of the Mansions.

‘I will show you.’

We had just reached the flat.

George opened the door to us. In reply to Poirot’s anxious question he shook his head.

‘No, sir. Mrs Tanios has not called. Neither has she telephoned.’ Poirot went into the sitting-room. He paced up and down for a few minutes. Then he picked up the telephone. He got first on to the Durham Hotel.

‘Yes—yes, please. Ah, Dr Tanios, this is Hercule Poirot speaking. Your wife has returned? Oh, not returned. Dear me… Taken her luggage, you say… And the children… You have no idea where she has gone… Yes, quite… Oh, perfectly… If my professional services are of any use [560] to be of any use – быть полезным to you? I have certain experience in these matters… Such things can be done quite discreetly… No, of course not… Yes, of course that is true… Certainly—certainly. I shall respect your wishes in the matter.’

He hung up the receiver thoughtfully.

‘He does not know where she is,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I think that is quite genuine. The anxiety in his voice is unmistakable. He does not want to go to the police, that is understandable. Yes, I understand that. He does not want my assistance either. That is, perhaps, not quite so understandable… He wants her found—but he does not want me to find her… No, definitely he does not want me to find her… He seems confident that he can manage the matter himself. He does not think she can remain long hidden, for she has very little money with her. Also she has the children. Yes, I fancy he will be able to hunt her down [561] to hunt down – выследить before long. But, I think, Hastings, that we shall be a little quicker than he is. It is important, I think, that we should be.’

‘Do you think it’s true that she is slightly batty?’ I asked.

‘I think that she is in a highly nervous, overwrought condition.’

‘But not to such a point that she ought to be in a mental home [562] mental home – психиатрическая больница ?’

‘That, very definitely, no.’

‘You know, Poirot, I don’t quite understand all this.’

‘If you will pardon my saying so, Hastings, you do not understand at all!’

‘There seem so many—well—side issues [563] side issue – второстепенный вопрос .’

‘Naturally there are side issues. To separate the main issue from the side issues is the first task of the orderly mind.’

‘Tell me, Poirot, have you realized all along that there were eight possible suspects and not seven?’

Poirot replied drily:

‘I have taken that fact into consideration from the moment that Theresa Arundell mentioned that the last time she saw Dr Donaldson was when he dined at Littlegreen House on April 14 th.’

‘I can’t quite see—’ I broke off.

‘What is it you cannot quite see?’

‘Well, if Donaldson had planned to do away with Miss Arundell by scientific means—by inoculation, that is to say—I can’t see why he resorted to such a clumsy device as a string across the stairs.’

‘En vérité [564] En vérité – (фр.) И в самом деле , Hastings, there are moments when I lose patience with you! One method is a highly scientific one needing fully-specialized knowledge. That is so, is it not?’

‘Yes.’

‘And the other is a homely simple method—“the kind that mother makes”—as the advertisements say. Is that not right?’

‘Yes, exactly.’

‘Then think, Hastings— think. Lie back in your chair, close the eyes, employ the little grey cells.’

I obeyed. That is to say, I leant back in the chair and closed my eyes and endeavoured to carry out the third part of Poirot’s instructions. The result, however, did not seem to clarify matters much.

I opened my eyes to find Poirot regarding me with the kindly attention a nurse might display towards a childish charge.

‘Eh bien?

I made a desperate attempt to emulate Poirot’s manner.

‘Well,’ I said, ‘it seems to me that the kind of person who laid the original booby-trap is not the kind of person to plan out a scientific murder.’

‘Exactly.’

‘And I doubt if a mind trained to scientific complexities would think of anything so childish as the accident plan—it would be altogether too haphazard.’

‘Very clearly reasoned.’

Emboldened, I went on:

‘Therefore, the only logical solution seems to be this—the two attempts were planned by two different people. We have here to deal with murder attempted by two entirely different people.’

‘You do not think that is too much of a coincidence?’

‘You said yourself once that one coincidence is nearly always found in a murder case.’

‘Yes, that is true. I have to admit it.’

‘Well, then.’

‘And who do you suggest for your villains?’

‘Donaldson and Theresa Arundell. A doctor is clearly indicated for the final successful murder. On the other hand we know that Theresa Arundell is concerned in the first attempt. I think it’s possible that they acted quite independently of each other.’

‘You are so fond of saying, “we know,” Hastings. I can assure you that no matter what you know, I do not know that Theresa was implicated.’

‘But Miss Lawson’s story.’

‘Miss Lawson’s story is Miss Lawson’s story. Just that.’

‘But she says—’

‘She says—she says… Always you are so ready to take what people say for a proved and accepted fact. Now listen, mon cher, I told you at the time, did I not, that something struck me as wrong about Miss Lawson’s story?’

‘Yes, I remember your saying so. But you couldn’t get hold of what it was.’

‘Well, I have done so now. A little moment and I will show you what I, imbecile that I am, ought to have seen at once.’ He went over to the desk and opening a drawer took out a sheet of cardboard. He cut into this with a pair of scissors, motioning to me not to overlook what he was doing.

‘Patience, Hastings, in a little moment we will proceed to our experiment.’

I averted my eyes obligingly.

In a minute or two Poirot uttered an exclamation of satisfaction. He put away the scissors, dropped the fragments of cardboard into the waste-paper basket and came across the room to me.

‘Now, do not look. Continue to avert the eyes while I pin something to the lapel of your coat.’

I humoured him. Poirot completed the proceeding to his satisfaction, then, propelling me gently to my feet he drew me across the room, and into the adjoining bedroom.

‘Now, Hastings, regard yourself in the glass. You are wearing, are you not, a fashionable brooch with your initials on it—only, bien entendu [565] bien entendu – (фр.) разумеется , the brooch is made not of chromium nor stainless steel, nor gold, nor platinum—but of humble cardboard!’

I looked at myself and smiled. Poirot is uncommonly neat with his fingers. I was wearing a very fair representation of Theresa Arundell’s brooch—a circle cut out of cardboard and enclosing my initials. A.H.