JК
Five Little Pigs :: Christie Agatha
Страница: 7 из 147’
‘So in your opinion she was guilty?’
Depleach looked rather startled. He said:
‘Er-well, I thought we were taking that for granted.’
‘Did she ever admit to you that she was guilty?’
Depleach looked shocked.
‘Of course not-of course not. We have our code, you know. Innocence is always-er-assumed. If you’re so interested it’s a pity you can’t get hold of old Mayhew. Mayhews were the solicitors who briefed me. Old Mayhew could have told you more than I can. But there-he’s joined the great majority. There’s young George Mayhew, of course, but he was only a boy at the time. It’s a long time ago, you know.’
‘Yes, I know. It is fortunate for me that you remember so much. You have a remarkable memory.’
Depleach looked pleased. He murmured:
‘Oh well, one remembers the main headings, you know. Especially when it’s a capital charge. And, of course, the Crale case got a lot of publicity from the press. Lot of sex interest and all that. The girl in the case was pretty striking. Hard-boiled piece of goods, I thought.’
‘You will forgive me if I seem too insistent,’ said Poirot, ‘but I repeat once more, you had no doubt of Caroline Crale’s guilt?’
Depleach shrugged his shoulders. He said:
‘Frankly-as man to man-I don’t think there’s much doubt about it. Oh yes, she did it all right.’
‘What was the evidence against her?’
‘Very damning indeed. First of all there was motive. She and Crale had led a kind of cat and dog life for years-interminable rows. He was always getting mixed up with some woman or other. Couldn’t help it. He was that kind of man. She stood it pretty well on the whole. Made allowances for him on the score of temperament-and the man really was a first-class painter, you know. His stuff’s gone up enormously in price-enormously. Don’t care for that style of painting myself-ugly forceful stuff, but it’sgood -no doubt of that.
‘Well, as I say, there had been trouble about women from time to time. Mrs Crale wasn’t the meek kind who suffers in silence. There were rows all right. But he always came back to her in the end. These affairs of his blew over. But this final affair was rather different. It was a girl, you see-and quite a young girl. She was only twenty.
‘Elsa Greer, that was her name. She was the only daughter of some Yorkshire manufacturer. She’d got money and determination, and she knew what she wanted. What she wanted was Amyas Crale.
‘So in your opinion she was guilty?’
Depleach looked rather startled. He said:
‘Er-well, I thought we were taking that for granted.’
‘Did she ever admit to you that she was guilty?’
Depleach looked shocked.
‘Of course not-of course not. We have our code, you know. Innocence is always-er-assumed. If you’re so interested it’s a pity you can’t get hold of old Mayhew. Mayhews were the solicitors who briefed me. Old Mayhew could have told you more than I can. But there-he’s joined the great majority. There’s young George Mayhew, of course, but he was only a boy at the time. It’s a long time ago, you know.’
‘Yes, I know. It is fortunate for me that you remember so much. You have a remarkable memory.’
Depleach looked pleased. He murmured:
‘Oh well, one remembers the main headings, you know. Especially when it’s a capital charge. And, of course, the Crale case got a lot of publicity from the press. Lot of sex interest and all that. The girl in the case was pretty striking. Hard-boiled piece of goods, I thought.’
‘You will forgive me if I seem too insistent,’ said Poirot, ‘but I repeat once more, you had no doubt of Caroline Crale’s guilt?’
Depleach shrugged his shoulders. He said:
‘Frankly-as man to man-I don’t think there’s much doubt about it. Oh yes, she did it all right.’
‘What was the evidence against her?’
‘Very damning indeed. First of all there was motive. She and Crale had led a kind of cat and dog life for years-interminable rows. He was always getting mixed up with some woman or other. Couldn’t help it. He was that kind of man. She stood it pretty well on the whole. Made allowances for him on the score of temperament-and the man really was a first-class painter, you know. His stuff’s gone up enormously in price-enormously. Don’t care for that style of painting myself-ugly forceful stuff, but it’sgood -no doubt of that.
‘Well, as I say, there had been trouble about women from time to time. Mrs Crale wasn’t the meek kind who suffers in silence. There were rows all right. But he always came back to her in the end. These affairs of his blew over. But this final affair was rather different. It was a girl, you see-and quite a young girl. She was only twenty.
‘Elsa Greer, that was her name. She was the only daughter of some Yorkshire manufacturer. She’d got money and determination, and she knew what she wanted. What she wanted was Amyas Crale.