Hercule Poirot's Christmas / Рождество Эркюля Пуаро. Книга для чтения на английском языке

‘I’ve checked up on a good many points. Horbury’s alibi is holding water all right[280]. The commissionaire at the cinema saw him go in with the girl, and saw him come out with her at the end of the performance, and seems pretty positive he didn’t leave, and couldn’t have left and returned during the performance. The girl swears quite definitely he was with her in the cinema all the time.’

Poirot’s eyebrows rose. ‘I hardly see, then, what more there is to say.’

The cynical Sugden said: ‘Well, one never knows with girls! Lie themselves black in the face[281] for the sake of a man.’

‘That does credit to their hearts,’ said Hercule Poirot.

Sugden growled. ‘That’s a foreign way of looking at it. It’s defeating the ends of justice.’

Hercule Poirot said: ‘Justice is a very strange thing. Have you ever reflected on it?’

Sugden stared at him. He said: ‘You’re a queer one, Mr Poirot.’

‘Not at all. I follow a logical train of thought[282]. But we will not enter into a dispute on the question. It is your belief, then, that this demoiselle from the milk shop is not speaking the truth?’

Sugden shook his head. ‘No,’ he said, ‘it’s not like that at all. As a matter of fact, I think she is telling the truth. She’s a simple kind of girl, and I think if she was telling me a pack of lies I’d spot it.’

Poirot said: ‘You have the experience, yes?’

‘That’s just it, Mr Poirot. One does know, more or less, after a lifetime of taking down statements, when a person’s lying and when they’re not. No, I think the girl’s evidence is genuine, and if so, Horbury couldn’t have murdered old Mr Lee, and that brings us right back to the people in the house.’

He drew a deep breath. ‘One of ’em did it, Mr Poirot. One of ’em did it. But which?’

‘You have no new data?’

‘Yes, I’ve had a certain amount of luck over the telephone calls. Mr George Lee put through a call to Westeringham at two minutes to nine. That call lasted under six minutes[283].’

‘Aha!’

‘As you say! Moreover, no other call was put through – to Westeringham or anywhere else.’

‘Very interesting,’ said Poirot, with approval. ‘M. George Lee says he has just finished telephoning when he hears the noise overhead – but actually he had finished telephoning nearly ten minutes before that. Where was he in those ten minutes? Mrs George Lee says that she was telephoning – but actually she never put through a call at all. Where was she?’

Sugden said: ‘I saw you talking to her, M. Poirot?’

His voice held a question, but Poirot replied: ‘You are in error![284]’

‘Eh?’

‘I was not talking to her – she was talking to me!’

‘Oh – ’ Sugden seemed to be about to brush the distinction aside impatiently; then, as its significance sank in, he said: ‘She was talking to you, you say?’

‘Most definitely. She came out here for that purpose.’

‘What did she have to say?’

‘She wished to stress certain points: the unEnglish character of the crime – the possibly undesirable antecedents of Miss Estravados on the paternal side – the fact that Miss Estravados had furtively picked up something from the floor last night.’

‘She told you that, did she?’ said Sugden with interest.

‘Yes. What was it that the señorita picked up?’

Sugden sighed. ‘I could give you three hundred guesses! I’ll show it to you. It’s the sort of thing that solves the whole mystery in detective stories! If you can make anything out of it, I’ll retire from the police force!’

‘Show it me.’

Sugden took an envelope from his pocket and tilted its contents on to the palm of his hand. A faint grin showed on his face.

‘There you are. What do you make of it?[285]’

On the superintendent’s broad palm lay a little triangular piece of pink rubber and a small wooden peg.

His grin broadened as Poirot picked up the articles and frowned over them.

‘Make anything of them, Mr Poirot?’

‘This little piece of stuff might have been cut from a spongebag?’

‘It was. It comes from a spongebag in Mr Lee’s room. Somebody with sharp scissors just cut a small triangular piece out of it. Mr Lee may have done it himself, for all I know. But it beats me why he should do it. Horbury can’t throw any light on the matter. As for the peg, it’s about the size of a cribbage peg, but they’re usually made of ivory. This is just rough wood – whittled out of a bit of deal, I should say.’

‘Most remarkable,’ murmured Poirot.

‘Keep ’em if you like,’ said Sugden kindly. ‘I don’t want them.’

‘Mon ami, I would not deprive you of them!’

‘They don’t mean anything at all to you?’

‘I must confess – nothing whatever!’

‘Splendid!’ said Sugden with heavy sarcasm, returning them to his pocket. ‘We are getting on![286]’

Poirot said: ‘Mrs George Lee, she recounts that the young lady stooped and picked these bagatelles up in a furtive manner. Should you say that that was true?’