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

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‘Poor Ralph,’ I said with a sigh. ‘You believe him to be innocent, though?’

Poirot looked at me very gravely.

‘Do you want to know the truth?’

‘Of course.’

‘Then you shall have it. My friend, everything points to the assumption that he is guilty.’

‘What!’ I exclaimed.

Poirot nodded.

‘Yes, that stupid inspector – for he is stupid – has everything pointing his way. I seek for the truth – and the truth leads me every time to ralph Paton. Motive, opportunity, means. But I will leave no stone unturned. I promised Mademoiselle flora. And she was very sure, that little one. But very sure indeed.’

I was slightly nervous when I rang the bell at Marby Grange the following afternoon. I wondered very much what Poirot expected to find out. he had entrusted the job to me. Why? Was it because, as in the case of questioning Major Blunt, he wished to remain in the background? The wish, intelligible in the first case, seemed to me quite meaningless here.

My meditations were interrupted by the advent of a smart parlourmaid. Yes, Mrs Folliott was at home. I was ushered into a big drawing-room, and looked round me curiously as I waited for the mistress of the house. A large bare room, some good bits of old china, and some beautiful etchings, shabby covers and curtains. A lady’s room in every sense of the term.