Убийство Роджера Экройда
Flora Ackroyd
Wecan’tverywellholdhimforobtainingmoneyonfalsepretences.Can’tprovearuddything."Theinspectortossedamatchintothegrateinadisgruntledfashion.Poirotretrieveditandputitneatlyinalittlereceptacledesignedforthepurpose.Hisactionwaspurelymechanical.Icouldseethathisthoughtswereonsomethingverydifferent.
"IfIwereyou,"hesaidatlast,"IshouldnotreleasethemanCharlesKentyet.""Whatdoyoumean?"Raglanstaredathim.
"WhatIsay.Ishouldnotreleasehimyet.""Youdon’tthinkhecanhavehadanythingtodowiththemurder,doyou?""Ithinkprobablynot–butonecannotbecertainyet.""Buthaven’tIjusttoldyou-?"Poirotraisedahandprotestingly.
"Maisoui,maisoui.Iheard.Iamnotdeaf–orstupid,thankthegoodGod!Butyousee,youapproachthematterfromthewrong–thewrong–premises,isnotthattheword?"Theinspectorstaredathimheavily.
"Idon’tseehowyoumakethatout.Lookhere,weknowMr.Ackroydwasaliveataquartertoten.Youadmitthat,don’tyou?"Poirotlookedathimforamoment,thenshookhisheadwithaquicksmile.
"Iadmitnothingthatisnot–proved?
"Well,we’vegotproofenoughofthat.We’vegotMissFloraAckroyd’sevidence.""Thatshesaidgoodnighttoheruncle?Butme–Idonotalwaysbelievewhatayoungladytellsme–no,notevenwhensheischarmingandbeautiful.