Убийство в Восточном экспрессе
5. The Crime
Bouc,andhewouldbegladifyouwouldbesokindastocometohimforafewminutes.”
Poirotrose,utteredexcusestotheSwedishladyandfollowedthemanoutofthediningcar.
Itwasnothisownconductor,butabigfairman.
Hefollowedhisguidedownthecorridorofhisowncarriageandalongthecorridorofthenextone.Themantappedatadoor,thenstoodasidetoletPoirotenter.
ThecompartmentwasnotM.Bouc’sown.Itwasasecond-classone—chosenpresumablybecauseofitsslightlylargersize.Itcertainlygavetheimpressionofbeingcrowded.
M.Bouchimselfwassittingonthesmallseatintheoppositecorner.Inthecornernextthewindowfacinghimwasasmall,darkmanlookingoutatthesnow.StandingupandquitepreventingPoirotfromadvancinganyfartherwasabigmaninblueuniform(thechefdetrain)andhisownWagonLitconductor.
“Ah,mygoodfriend,”criedM.Bouc.“Comein.Wehaveneedofyou.”
Thelittlemaninthewindowshiftedalongtheseat,Poirotsqueezedpasttheothertwomenandsatdownfacinghisfriend.
TheexpressiononM.Bouc’sfacegavehim,ashewouldhaveexpressedit,furiouslytothink.Itwasclearthatsomethingoutofthecommonhadhappened.
“Whathasoccurred?”heasked.
“Youmaywellaskthat.Firstthissnow—thisstoppage.Andnow—”
Hepaused—andasortofstrangledgaspcamefromtheWagonLitconductor.
“Andnowwhat?”
“Andnowapassengerliesdeadinhisberth—stabbed.”
M.Boucspokewithakindofcalmdesperation.
“Apassenger?Whichpassenger?”
“AnAmerican.
