JК
Five Little Pigs :: Christie Agatha
Страница: 10 из 147Naturally the girl wants to believe her motherdidn’t do it. Let her believe it. It doesn’t do any harm.’
‘But unfortunately she demands proof.’
‘Proof that Caroline Crale didn’t kill her husband?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well,’ said Depleach. ‘She won’t get it.’
‘You think not?’
The famous K.C. looked thoughtfully at his companion.
‘I’ve always thought you were an honest man, Poirot. What are you doing? Trying to make money by playing on a girl’s natural affections?’
‘You do not know the girl. She is an unusual girl. A girl of great force of character.’
‘Yes, I should imagine the daughter of Amyas and Caroline Crale might be that. What does she want?’
‘She wants the truth.’
‘Hm-I’m afraid she’ll find the truth unpalatable. Honestly, Poirot, I don’t think there’s any doubt about it. She killed him.’
‘You will forgive me, my friend, but I must satisfy myself on that point.’
‘Well, I don’t know what more you can do. You can read up the newspaper accounts of the trial. Humphrey Rudolph appeared for the Crown. He’s dead-let me see, who was his junior? Young Fogg, I think. Yes, Fogg. You can have a chat with him. And then there are the people who were there at the time. Don’t suppose they’ll enjoy your butting in and raking the whole thing up, but I dare say you’ll get what you want out of them. You’re a plausible devil.’
‘Ah yes, the people concerned. That is very important. You remember, perhaps, who they were?’
Depleach considered.
‘Let me see-it’s a long time ago. There were only five people who were really in it, so to speak-I’m not counting the servants-a couple of faithful old things, scared-looking creatures-they didn’t know anything about anything. No one could suspect them.’
‘There are five people, you say. Tell me about them.’
‘Well, there was Philip Blake. He was Crale’s greatest friend-had known him all his life. He was staying in the house at the time.He’s alive. I see him now and again on the links. Lives at St George’s Hill. Stockbroker. Plays the markets and gets away with it. Successful man, running to fat a bit.’
‘Yes. And who next?’
‘Then there was Blake’s elder brother. Country squire-stay at home sort of chap.’
A jingle ran through Poirot’s head. He repressed it. He mustnot always be thinking of nursery rhymes. It seemed an obsession with him lately. And yet the jingle persisted.
‘But unfortunately she demands proof.’
‘Proof that Caroline Crale didn’t kill her husband?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well,’ said Depleach. ‘She won’t get it.’
‘You think not?’
The famous K.C. looked thoughtfully at his companion.
‘I’ve always thought you were an honest man, Poirot. What are you doing? Trying to make money by playing on a girl’s natural affections?’
‘You do not know the girl. She is an unusual girl. A girl of great force of character.’
‘Yes, I should imagine the daughter of Amyas and Caroline Crale might be that. What does she want?’
‘She wants the truth.’
‘Hm-I’m afraid she’ll find the truth unpalatable. Honestly, Poirot, I don’t think there’s any doubt about it. She killed him.’
‘You will forgive me, my friend, but I must satisfy myself on that point.’
‘Well, I don’t know what more you can do. You can read up the newspaper accounts of the trial. Humphrey Rudolph appeared for the Crown. He’s dead-let me see, who was his junior? Young Fogg, I think. Yes, Fogg. You can have a chat with him. And then there are the people who were there at the time. Don’t suppose they’ll enjoy your butting in and raking the whole thing up, but I dare say you’ll get what you want out of them. You’re a plausible devil.’
‘Ah yes, the people concerned. That is very important. You remember, perhaps, who they were?’
Depleach considered.
‘Let me see-it’s a long time ago. There were only five people who were really in it, so to speak-I’m not counting the servants-a couple of faithful old things, scared-looking creatures-they didn’t know anything about anything. No one could suspect them.’
‘There are five people, you say. Tell me about them.’
‘Well, there was Philip Blake. He was Crale’s greatest friend-had known him all his life. He was staying in the house at the time.He’s alive. I see him now and again on the links. Lives at St George’s Hill. Stockbroker. Plays the markets and gets away with it. Successful man, running to fat a bit.’
‘Yes. And who next?’
‘Then there was Blake’s elder brother. Country squire-stay at home sort of chap.’
A jingle ran through Poirot’s head. He repressed it. He mustnot always be thinking of nursery rhymes. It seemed an obsession with him lately. And yet the jingle persisted.