Читать книгу The Murder of Roger Ackroyd / Убийство Роджера Экройда онлайн

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‘What? What are you going to say?’

‘Nothing, Nothing. Only that, strictly speaking, Mrs Ferrars in her letter mentioned a person – she didn’t actually specify a man. But we took it for granted, Ackroyd and I, that it was a man.’

Poirot did not seem to be listening to me. He was muttering to himself again.

‘But then it is possible after all – yes, certainly it is possible – but then – ah! I must rearrange my ideas. Method, order, never have I needed them more. everything must fit in – in its appointed place – otherwise I am on the wrong track.’ He broke off, and whirled round upon me again. ‘Where is Marby?’

‘It’s on the other side of Cranchester.’

‘How far away?’

‘Oh! – fourteen miles, perhaps.’

‘Would it be possible for you to go there? Tomorrow, say?’

‘Tomorrow? Let me see, that’s Sunday. yes, I could arrange it. What do you want me to do there?’

‘See this Mrs Folliott. Find out all you can about Ursula Bourne.’

‘Very well. But – I don’t much care for the job.’

‘It is not the time to make difficulties. A man’s life may hang on this.’