The Murder of Roger Ackroyd / Убийство Роджера Экройда - Кристи Агата - Страница 14

She looked at him aggressively.

‘I see,’ said the inspector. ‘Can you tell me if this dagger was in its place then?’

Miss Russell looked at the weapon composedly.

‘I can’t say I’m sure,’ she replied. ‘I didn’t stop to look. I knew the family would be down any minute, and I wanted to get away.’

‘Thank you,’ said the inspector.

There was just a trace of hesitation in his manner, as though he would have liked to question her further, but Miss Russell clearly accepted the words as a dismissal, and glided from the room.

‘Rather a Tartar, I should fancy, eh?’ said the inspector, looking after her. ‘Let me see. This silver table is in front of one of the windows, I think you said, doctor?’

Raymond answered for me.

‘Yes, the left-hand window.’

‘And the window was open?’

‘They were both ajar.’

‘Well, I don’t think we need go into the question much further. Somebody – I’ll just say somebody – could get that dagger any time he liked, and exactly when he got it doesn’t matter in the least. I’ll be coming up in the morning with the chief constable, Mr Raymond. until then, I’ll keep the key of that door. I want colonel Melrose to see everything exactly as it is. I happen to know that he’s dining out the other side of the county, and, I believe, staying the night…’

We watched the inspector take up the jar.

‘I shall have to pack this carefully,’ he observed. ‘It’s going to be an important piece of evidence in more ways than one.’

A few minutes later as I came out of the billiard room with Raymond, the latter gave a low chuckle of amusement. I felt the pressure of his hand on my arm, and followed the direction of his eyes. Inspector Davis seemed to be inviting Parker’s opinion of a small pocket diary.

‘A little obvious,’ murmured my companion. ‘So Parker is the suspect, is he? Shall we oblige Inspector Davis with a set of our fingerprints also?’

He took two cards from the card tray, wiped them with his silk handkerchief, then handed one to me and took the other himself. Then, with a grin, he handed them to the police inspector.

‘Souvenirs,’ he said. ‘No. 1. dr Sheppard; No. 2, my humble self. one from Major Blunt will be forthcoming in the morning.’

Youth is very buoyant. even the brutal murder of his friend and employer could not dim Geoffrey Raymond’s spirits for long. Perhaps that is as it should be. I do not know. I have lost the quality of resilience long since myself.

It was very late when I got back, and I hoped that Caroline would have gone to bed. I might have known better.

She had hot cocoa waiting for me, and whilst I drank it, she extracted the whole history of the evening from me. I said nothing of the blackmailing business, but contented myself with giving her the facts of the murder.

‘The police suspect Parker,’ I said, as I rose to my feet and prepared to ascend to bed. ‘There seems a fairly clear case against him.’

‘Parker!’ said my sister. ‘Fiddlesticks! That inspector must be a perfect fool. Parker indeed! Don’t tell me.’

With which obscure pronouncement we went up to bed.

On the following morning I hurried unforgivably over my round. My excuse can be that I had no very serious cases to attend. on my return Caroline came into the hall to greet me.

‘Flora Ackroyd is here,’ she announced in an excited whisper.

‘What?’ I concealed my surprise as best as I could.

‘She’s very anxious to see you. She’s been here half an hour.’

Caroline led the way into our small sitting-room, and I followed. Flora was sitting on the sofa by the window. She was in black and she sat nervously twisting her hands together. I was shocked by the sight of her face. All the colour had faded away from it. But when she spoke her manner was as composed and resolute as possible.

‘Dr Sheppard, I have come to ask you to help me?’

‘Of course he’ll help you, my dear,’ said Caroline.

I don’t think Flora really wished Caroline to be present at the interview. She would, I am sure, have infinitely preferred to speak to me privately. But she also wanted to waste no time, so she made the best of it.

‘I want you to come to The Larches with me.’

‘The Larches?’ I queried, surprised.

‘To see that funny little man?’ exclaimed Caroline.

‘Yes. You know who he is, don’t you?’

‘We fancied,’ I said, ‘that he might be a retired hairdresser.’

Flora’s blue eyes opened very wide.

‘Why, he’s Hercule Poirot! you know who I mean – the private detective. They say he’s done the most wonderful things – just like detectives do in books. A year ago he retired and came to live down here. uncle knew who he was, but he promised not to tell anyone, because M. Poirot wanted to live quietly without being bothered by people.’

‘So that’s who he is,’ I said slowly.

‘You’ve heard of him, of course?’

‘I’m rather an old fogey, as Caroline tells me,’ I said, ‘but I have just heard of him.’

‘Extraordinary!’ commented Caroline.

I don’t know what she was referring to – possibly her own failure to discover the truth.

‘You want to go and see him?’ I asked slowly. ‘Now why?’

‘To get him to investigate this murder, of course,’ said Caroline sharply. ‘Don’t be so stupid, James.’

I was not really being stupid. caroline does not always understand what I am driving at.

‘You haven’t got confidence in inspector Davis?’ I went on.

‘Of course she hasn’t,’ said Caroline. ‘I haven’t either.’

Anyone would have thought it was Caroline’s uncle who had been murdered.

‘And how do you know he would take up the case?’ I asked. ‘Remember he has retired from active work.’

‘That’s just it,’ said Flora simply. ‘I’ve got to persuade him.’

‘You are sure you are doing wisely?’ I asked gravely.

‘Of course she is,’ said Caroline. ‘I’ll go with her myself if she likes.’

‘I’d rather the doctor came with me, if you don’t mind, Miss Sheppard,’ said Flora.

She knows the value of being direct on certain occasions. Any hints would certainly have been wasted on Caroline.

‘You see,’ she explained, following directness with tact, ‘dr Sheppard being the doctor, and having found the body, he would be able to give all the details to M. Poirot.’

‘Yes,’ said Caroline grudgingly, ‘I see that.’

I took a turn or two up and down the room.

‘Flora,’ I said gravely, ‘be guided by me. I advise you not to drag this detective into the case.’

Flora sprang to her feet. The colour rushed into her cheeks.

‘I know why you say that,’ she cried. ‘But it’s exactly for that reason I’m so anxious to go. You’re afraid! But I’m not. I know Ralph better than you do.’

‘Ralph!’ said Caroline. ‘What has Ralph got to do with it?’

Neither of us heeded her.

‘Ralph may be weak,’ continued Flora. ‘He may have done foolish things in the past – wicked things even – but he wouldn’t murder anyone.’

‘No, no,’ I exclaimed. ‘I never thought it of him.’

‘Then why did you go to the Three Boars last night?’ demanded Flora. ‘on your way home – after uncle’s body was found?’