Убийство в Восточном экспрессе
12. The Evidence of the German Lady’s Maid
Abellbeganringing,butIdonotthinkheansweredit.”
Shepausedandthensaid:
“Idonotunderstand.Howisit—?”
Poirotspokereassuringly.
“Itisjustaquestionoftimes,”hesaid.“Allamatterofroutine.Thispoorconductor,heseemstohavehadabusynight—firstwakingyouandthenansweringbells.”
“Itwasnotthesameconductorwhowokeme,Monsieur.Itwasanotherone.”
“Ah,anotherone!Hadyouseenhimbefore?”
“No.Monsieur.”
“Ah!Doyouthinkyouwouldrecognizehimifyousawhim?”
“Ithinkso,Monsieur.”
PoirotmurmuredsomethinginM.Bouc’sear.Thelattergotupandwenttothedoortogiveanorder.
Poirotwascontinuinghisquestionsinaneasyfriendlymanner.
“HaveyoueverbeentoAmerica,FrauSchmidt?”
“Never,Monsieur.Itmustbeafinecountry.”
“Youhaveheard,perhaps,ofwhothismanwhowaskilledreallywas—thathewasresponsibleforthedeathofalittlechild.”
“Yes,Ihaveheard,Monsieur.Itwasabominable—wicked.ThegoodGodshouldnotallowsuchthings.WearenotsowickedasthatinGermany.”
Tearshadcomeintothewoman’seyes.Herstrongmotherlysoulwasmoved.
“Itwasanabominablecrime,”saidPoirotgravely.
Hedrewascrapofcambricfromhispocketandhandedittoher.
“Isthisyourhandkerchief,FrauSchmidt?”
Therewasamoment’ssilenceasthewomanexaminedit.Shelookedupafteraminute.Thecolourhadmountedalittleinherface.
“Ah!no,indeed.Itisnotmine,Monsieur.”
“IthastheinitialH,yousee.ThatiswhyIthoughtitwasyours
