Убийство в Восточном экспрессе
10. The Evidence of the Italian
Thentheconductorcomesandmakesourbeds.”
“Nos.4and5,”murmuredPoirot.
“Exactly—theendcompartment.Mineistheupperberth.Igetupthere.Ismokeandread.ThelittleEnglishmanhas,Ithink,thetoothache.Hegetsoutalittlebottleofstuffthatsmellsverystrong.Heliesinbedandgroans.PresentlyIsleep.WheneverIwakeIhearhimgroaning.”
“Doyouknowifheleftthecarriageatallduringthenight?”
“Idonotthinkso.That,Ishouldhear.Thelightfromthecorridor—onewakesupautomaticallythinkingitistheCustomsexaminationatsomefrontier.”
“Didheeverspeakofhismaster?Everexpressanyanimusagainsthim?”
“Itellyouhedidnotspeak.Hewasnotsympathetic.Afish.”
“Yousmoke,yousay—apipe,cigarettes,cigars?”
“Cigarettesonly.”
Poirotprofferedhimonewhichheaccepted.
“HaveyoueverbeeninChicago?”inquiredM.Bouc.
“Oh,yes—afinecity—butIknowbestNewYork,Washington,Detroit.YouhavebeentotheStates?No?Youshouldgo,it—”
Poirotpushedasheetofpaperacrosstohim.
“Ifyouwillsignthis,andputyourpermanentaddress,please.”
TheItalianwrotewithaflourish.Thenherose—hissmilewasasengagingasever.
“Thatisall?Youdonotrequiremefurther?Gooddaytoyou,Messieurs.Iwishwecouldgetoutofthesnow.IhaveanappointmentinMilan—”Heshookhisheadsadly.“Ishalllosethebusiness.”
Hedeparted.
Poirotlookedathisfriend.
“HehasbeenalongtimeinAmerica,”saidM
