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Five Little Pigs :: Christie Agatha
Страница: 138 из 147She sat very upright and there was a spot of colour in each cheek.
She said: ‘That is what I saw.’
Poirot said slowly: ‘There is, of course, only your word for it…’
‘There is only my word for it.’ The indomitable grey eyes met his. ‘I am not accustomed, M. Poirot, to having my word doubted.’
Hercule Poirot bowed his head. He said:
‘I do not doubt your word, Miss Williams. What you saw took place exactly as you say it did-and because of what you saw I realized that Caroline Crale was not guilty-could not possibly be guilty.’
For the first time, that tall, anxious-faced young man, John Rattery, spoke. He said: ‘I’d be interested to knowwhy you say that, M. Poirot.’
Poirot turned to him.
‘Certainly. I will tell you. What did Miss Williams see-she saw Caroline Crale very carefully and anxiously wiping off fingerprints and subsequently imposing her dead husband’s fingerprints on the beer bottle. On the beerbottle, mark. But the coniine was in the glass-not in the bottle. The police found no traces of coniine in the bottle. There had never been any coniine in the bottle.And Caroline Crale didn’t know that.
‘She who is supposed to have poisoned her husband didn’t knowhow he had been poisoned. She thought the poison was in the bottle.’
Meredith objected: ‘But why-’
Poirot interrupted him in a flash.
‘Yes-why? Why did Caroline Crale try so desperately to establish the theory of suicide? The answer is-must be-quite simple. Because she knew whohad poisoned him and she was willing to do anything-endure anything-rather than let that person be suspected.
‘There is not far to go now. Who could that person be? Would she have shielded Philip Blake? Or Meredith? Or Elsa Greer? Or Cecilia Williams? No, there is only one person whom she would be willing to protect at all costs.’
He paused: ‘Miss Warren, if you have brought your sister’s last letter with you, I should like to read it aloud.’
Angela Warren said: ‘No.’
‘But, Miss Warren-’
Angela got up. Her voice rang out, cold as steel.
‘I realize very well what you are suggesting. You are saying, are you not, that I killed Amyas Crale and that my sister knew it. I deny that allegation utterly.’
Poirot said: ‘The letter…’
‘That letter was meant for my eyes alone.’
Poirot looked to where the two youngest people in the room stood together.
Carla Lemarchant said: ‘Please, Aunt Angela, won’t you do as M.
She said: ‘That is what I saw.’
Poirot said slowly: ‘There is, of course, only your word for it…’
‘There is only my word for it.’ The indomitable grey eyes met his. ‘I am not accustomed, M. Poirot, to having my word doubted.’
Hercule Poirot bowed his head. He said:
‘I do not doubt your word, Miss Williams. What you saw took place exactly as you say it did-and because of what you saw I realized that Caroline Crale was not guilty-could not possibly be guilty.’
For the first time, that tall, anxious-faced young man, John Rattery, spoke. He said: ‘I’d be interested to knowwhy you say that, M. Poirot.’
Poirot turned to him.
‘Certainly. I will tell you. What did Miss Williams see-she saw Caroline Crale very carefully and anxiously wiping off fingerprints and subsequently imposing her dead husband’s fingerprints on the beer bottle. On the beerbottle, mark. But the coniine was in the glass-not in the bottle. The police found no traces of coniine in the bottle. There had never been any coniine in the bottle.And Caroline Crale didn’t know that.
‘She who is supposed to have poisoned her husband didn’t knowhow he had been poisoned. She thought the poison was in the bottle.’
Meredith objected: ‘But why-’
Poirot interrupted him in a flash.
‘Yes-why? Why did Caroline Crale try so desperately to establish the theory of suicide? The answer is-must be-quite simple. Because she knew whohad poisoned him and she was willing to do anything-endure anything-rather than let that person be suspected.
‘There is not far to go now. Who could that person be? Would she have shielded Philip Blake? Or Meredith? Or Elsa Greer? Or Cecilia Williams? No, there is only one person whom she would be willing to protect at all costs.’
He paused: ‘Miss Warren, if you have brought your sister’s last letter with you, I should like to read it aloud.’
Angela Warren said: ‘No.’
‘But, Miss Warren-’
Angela got up. Her voice rang out, cold as steel.
‘I realize very well what you are suggesting. You are saying, are you not, that I killed Amyas Crale and that my sister knew it. I deny that allegation utterly.’
Poirot said: ‘The letter…’
‘That letter was meant for my eyes alone.’
Poirot looked to where the two youngest people in the room stood together.
Carla Lemarchant said: ‘Please, Aunt Angela, won’t you do as M.