Убийство в Восточном экспрессе
8. Further Surprising Revelations
”
Poirotsaidquietly:
“ThatwasintheArmstrongcase,wasitnot?Youwerethechauffeur?”
HiseyesmetthoseoftheItalian.Theblusterwentoutofthebigman.Hewaslikeaprickedballoon.
“Sinceyouknow—whyaskme?”
“Whydidyouliethismorning?”
“Businessreasons.Besides,IdonottrusttheYugo-Slavpolice.TheyhatetheItalians.Theywouldnothavegivenmejustice.”
“Perhapsitisexactlyjusticethattheywouldhavegivenyou!”
“No,no,Ihadnothingtodowiththisbusinesslastnight.Ineverleftmycarriage.Thelong-facedEnglishman,hecantellyouso.ItwasnotIwhokilledthispig—thisRatchett.Youcannotproveanythingagainstme.”
Poirotwaswritingsomethingonasheetofpaper.Helookedupandsaidquietly:
“Verygood.Youcango.”
Foscarellilingereduneasily.
“YourealizethatitwasnotI—thatIcouldhavehadnothingtodowithit?”
“Isaidthatyoucouldgo.”
“Itisaconspiracy.Youaregoingtoframeme?Allforapigofamanwhoshouldhavegonetothechair!Itwasaninfamythathedidnot.Ifithadbeenme—ifIhadbeenarrested—”
“Butitwasnotyou.Youhadnothingtodowiththekidnappingofthechild.”
“Whatisthatyouaresaying?Why,thatlittleone—shewasthedelightofthehouse.Tonio,shecalledme.Andshewouldsitinthecarandpretendtoholdthewheel.Allthehouseholdworshippedher!Eventhepolicecametounderstandthat.Ah,thebeautifullittleone.”
Hisvoicehadsoftened.Thetearscameintohiseyes.Thenhewheeledroundabruptlyonhisheelandstrodeoutofthediningcar.
