Убийство в Восточном экспрессе
15. The Evidence of the Passengers’ Luggage
“Ican’tsayProhibitionhaseverworriedmeany.”
“Ah!”saidM.Bouc.“Thespeakeasy.”Hepronouncedthewordwithcare,savouringit.
“YourAmericantermsaresoquaint,soexpressive,”hesaid.
“Me,IwouldmuchliketogotoAmerica,”saidPoirot.
“You’dlearnafewgo-aheadmethodsoverthere,”saidHardman.“Europewantswakingup.She’shalfasleep.”
“ItistruethatAmericaisthecountryofprogress,”agreedPoirot.“ThereismuchthatIadmireaboutAmericans.Only—Iamperhapsold-fashioned—butme,IfindtheAmericanwomanlesscharmingthanmyowncountrywomen.TheFrenchorBelgiangirl,coquettish,charming—Ithinkthereisnoonetotouchher.”
Hardmanturnedawaytopeeroutatthesnowforaminute.
“Perhapsyou’reright,M.Poirot,”hesaid.“ButIguesseverynationlikesitsowngirlsbest.”
Heblinkedasthoughthesnowhurthiseyes.
“Kindofdazzling,isn’tit?”heremarked.“Say,gentlemen,thisbusinessisgettingonmynerves.Murderandthesnowandall,andnothingdoing.Justhangingaboutandkillingtime.I’dliketogetbusyaftersomeoneorsomething.”
“ThetrueWesternspiritofhustle,”saidPoirotwithasmile.
Theconductorreplacedthebagsandtheymovedontothenextcompartment.ColonelArbuthnotwassittinginacornersmokingapipeandreadingamagazine.
Poirotexplainedtheirerrand.TheColonelmadenodemur.Hehadtwoheavyleathersuitcases.
“Therestofmykithasgonebylongsea,”heexplained.
LikemostArmymen,theColonelwasaneatpacker.
