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

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I wanted to tell Caroline that large numbers of murderers have had nice manners, but the presence of flora restrained me. Since the girl was determined, I was forced to give in to her and we started at once, getting away before my sister was able to fire off any more pronouncements beginning with her favourite words, ‘of course.’

An old woman with an immense Breton cap opened the door of The Larches to us. M. Poirot was at home, it seemed.

We were ushered into a little sitting-room arranged with formal precision, and there, after a lapse of a minute or so, my friend of yesterday came to us.

‘Monsieur le docteur,’ he said, smiling. ‘Mademoiselle.’ he bowed to Flora.

‘Perhaps,’ I began, ‘you have heard of the tragedy which occurred last night.’

His face grew grave.

‘But certainly I have heard. It is horrible. I offer mademoiselle all my sympathy. In what way can I serve you?’

‘Miss Ackroyd,’ I said, ‘wants you to – to-’

‘To find the murderer,’ said Flora in a clear voice.

‘I see,’ said the little man. ‘But the police will do that, will they not?’