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

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‘You seem to have invented a romantic fairy story of your own,’ I said. ‘you read too many trashy novels, Caroline. I’ve always told you so.’ I dropped into my chair again. ‘Did Poirot ask you any more questions?’ I inquired.

‘Only about the patients you had that morning.’

‘The patients?’ I demanded, unbelievingly.

‘Yes, your surgery patients. How many and who they were.’

‘Do you mean to say you were able to tell him that?’ I demanded.

Caroline is really amazing.

‘Why not?’ asked my sister triumphantly. ‘I can see the path up to the surgery door perfectly from this window. And I’ve got an excellent memory, James. Much better than yours, let me tell you.’

‘I’m sure you have,’ I murmured mechanically.

My sister went on, checking the names on her fingers.

‘There was old Mrs Bennett, and that boy from the farm with the bad finger, Dolly Grice to have a needle out of her finger; that American steward off the liner. Let me see – that’s four. Yes, and old George Evans with his ulcer. And lastly-’