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

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‘Bien entendu,’ said Poirot, nodding his head.

‘Well, I’ve taken the prints of every member of the household, everyone, mind you, from the old lady down to the kitchenmaid.’

I don’t think Mrs Ackroyd would enjoy being referred to as the old lady. She must spend a considerable amount on cosmetics.

‘Everyone’s,’ repeated the inspector fussily.

‘Including mine,’ I said drily.

‘Very well. None of them correspond. That leaves us two alternatives. Ralph Paton, or the mysterious stranger the doctor here tells us about. When we get hold of those two-’

‘Much valuable time may have been lost,’ broke in Poirot.

‘I don’t quite get you, Mr Poirot.’

‘You have taken the prints of everyone in the house, you say,’ murmured Poirot. ‘Is that the exact truth you are telling me there, M. l’Inspecteur?’

‘Certainly.’

‘Without overlooking anyone?’

‘Without overlooking anyone.’

‘The quick or the dead?’

For a moment the inspector looked bewildered at what he took to be a religious observation. Then he reacted slowly.