Убийство на поле для гольфа
27. Jack Renauld’s Story
Andevenaswewatchedtherecameashadowontheblindasoftwopeoplestruggling.
“Milletonnerres!”criedPoirot.“Shemusthavechangedherroom!”
Dashingforward,hebatteredwildlyonthefrontdoor.Thenrushingtothetreeintheflower-bed,heswarmedupitwiththeagilityofacat.Ifollowedhim,aswithaboundhespranginthroughtheopenwindow.Lookingovermyshoulder,IsawDulciereachingthebranchbehindme.
“Takecare,”Iexclaimed.
“Takecareofyourgrandmother!”retortedthegirl.“Thisischild’splaytome.”
Poirothadrushedthroughtheemptyroomandwaspoundingonthedoorleadingintothecorridor.
“Lockedandboltedontheoutside,”hegrowled.“Anditwilltaketimetoburstitopen.”
Thecriesforhelpweregettingnoticeablyfainter.IsawdespairinPoirot’seyes.HeandItogetherputourshoulderstothedoor.
Cinderella’svoice,calmanddispassionate,camefromthewindow:
“You’llbetoolate,IguessI’mtheonlyonewhocandoanything.”
BeforeIcouldmoveahandtostopher,sheappearedtoleapupwardintospace.Irushedandlookedout.Tomyhorror,Isawherhangingbyherhandsfromtheroof,propellingherselfalongbyjerksinthedirectionofthelightedwindow.
“Goodheavens!She’llbekilled,”Icried.
“Youforget.She’saprofessionalacrobat,Hastings.ItwastheprovidenceofthegoodGodthatmadeherinsistoncomingwithustonight.Ionlypraythatshemaybeintime
