Убийство в Восточном экспрессе
8. The Evidence of Colonel Arbuthnot
“Allthisisbytheway,”hesaid.“Letusbepracticalandcometofacts.Thiscrime,wehavereasontobelieve,tookplaceataquarterpastonelastnight.Itispartofthenecessaryroutinetoaskeveryoneonthetrainwhatheorshewasdoingatthattime.”
“Quiteso.Ataquarterpastone,tothebestofmybelief,IwastalkingtotheyoungAmericanfellow—secretarytothedeadman.”
“Ah!Wereyouinhiscompartment,orwasheinyours?”
“Iwasinhis.”
“ThatistheyoungmanofthenameofMacQueen?”
“Yes.”
“Hewasafriendoracquaintanceofyours?”
“No,Ineversawhimbeforethisjourney.Wefellintocasualconversationyesterdayandbothbecameinterested.Idon’tasarulelikeAmericans—haven’tanyusefor’em—”
Poirotsmiled,rememberingMacQueen’sstrictureson“Britishers.”
“—ButIlikedthisyoungfellow.He’dgotholdofsometom-foolidioticideasaboutthesituationinIndia;that’stheworstofAmericans—they’resosentimentalandidealistic.Well,hewasinterestedinwhatIhadtotellhim.I’vehadnearlythirtyyearsexperienceofthecountry.AndIwasinterestedinwhathehadtotellmeaboutthefinancialsituationinAmerica.Thenwegotdowntoworldpoliticsingeneral.Iwasquitesurprisedtolookatmywatchandfinditwasaquartertotwo.”
“Thatisthetimeyoubrokeupthisconversation?”
“Yes.”
“Whatdidyoudothen?”
“Walkedalongtomyowncompartmentandturnedin.”
“Yourbedwasmadeupready?”
“Yes.”
“Thatisthecompartment—letmesee—No.
