Убийство на поле для гольфа
7. The Mysterious Madame Daubreuil
“Amantellstohismistresswhathedoesnotalwaystelltohiswife.”
“Ah!”shesprangforward.Hereyesflashedfire.“Monsieur,youinsultme!Andbeforemydaughter!Icantellyounothing.Havethegoodnesstoleavemyhouse!”
Thehonoursundoubtedlyrestedwiththelady.WelefttheVillaMargueritelikeashamefacedpackofschoolboys.Themagistratemutteredangryejaculationstohimself.Poirotseemedlostinthought.Suddenlyhecameoutofhisreveriewithastart,andinquiredofM.Hautetiftherewasagoodhotelnearathand.
“Thereisasmallplace,theHoteldesBains,onthissideoftown.Afewhundredyardsdowntheroad.Itwillbehandyforyourinvestigations.Weshallseeyouinthemorningthen,Ipresume?”
“Yes,Ithankyou,M.Hautet.”
Withmutualcivilities,wepartedcompany,PoirotandIgoingtowardsMerlinville,andtheothersreturningtotheVillaGeneviève.
“TheFrenchpolicesystemisverymarvellous,”saidPoirot,lookingafterthem.“Theinformationtheypossessabouteveryone’slife,downtothemostcommonplacedetail,isextraordinary.Thoughhehasonlybeenherealittleoversixweeks,theyareperfectlywellacquaintedwithM.Renauld’stastesandpursuits,andatamoment’snoticetheycanproduceinformationastoMadameDaubreuil’sbankingaccount,andthesumsthathavelatelybeenpaidin!Undoubtedlythedossierisagreatinstitution.Butwhatisthat?”Heturnedsharply.
Afigurewasrunninghatless,downtheroadafterus.ItwasMartheDaubreuil.
“Ibegyourpardon,”shecriedbreathlessly,asshereachedus.
