Убийство в Восточном экспрессе
6. A Woman?
Poirotnodded.
“Exactly.Somethinghashappened.Prepareyourselfforashock.Youremployer,M.Ratchett,isdead!”
MacQueen’smouthpurseditselfinawhistle.Exceptthathiseyesgrewashadebrighter,heshowednosignsofshockordistress.
“Sotheygothimafterall,”hesaid.
“Whatexactlydoyoumeanbythatphrase,M.MacQueen?”MacQueenhesitated.
“Youareassuming,”saidPoirot,“thatM.Ratchettwasmurdered?”
“Wasn’the?”ThistimeMacQueendidshowsurprise.“Why,yes,”hesaidslowly.“That’sjustwhatIdidthink.Doyoumeanhejustdiedinhissleep?Why,theoldmanwasastoughas—astough—”
Hestopped,atalossforasimile.
“No,no,”saidPoirot.“Yourassumptionwasquiteright.Mr.Ratchettwasmurdered.Stabbed.ButIshouldliketoknowwhyyouweresosureitwasmurder,andnotjust—death.”
MacQueenhesitated.
“Imustgetthisclear,”hesaid.“Whoexactlyareyou?Andwheredoyoucomein?”
“IrepresenttheCompagnieInternationaledesWagonsLits.”Hepaused,thenadded,“Iamadetective.MynameisHerculePoirot.”
Ifheexpectedaneffecthedidnotgetone.MacQueensaidmerely,“Oh,yes?”andwaitedforhimtogoon.
“Youknowthename,perhaps.”
“Why,itdoesseemkindoffamiliar—onlyIalwaysthoughtitwasawoman’sdressmaker.”
HerculePoirotlookedathimwithdistaste.
“Itisincredible!”hesaid.
“What’sincredible?”
“Nothing.Letusadvancewiththematterinhand.Iwantyoutotellme,M.MacQueen,allthatyouknowaboutthedeadman.Youwerenotrelatedtohim?”
“No.
