Загадочное происшествие в Стайлзе / The Mysterious Affair at Styles

‘Very well, then, have it your own way. I leave it in your hands. Though, if it is as we suspect, it seems a clear enough case. God forgive me if I am wronging him!’

I looked at my watch. It was six o’clock. I determined to lose no time.

Five minutes’ delay, however, I allowed myself. I spent it in ransacking the library until I discovered a medical book which gave a description of strychnine poisoning.

CHAPTER 4. Poirot Investigates

The house which the Belgians occupied in the village was quite close to the park gates. One could save time by taking a narrow path through the long grass, which cut off the detours of the winding drive. So I, accordingly, went that way. I had nearly reached the lodge, when my attention was arrested by the running figure of a man approaching me. It was Mr Inglethorp. Where had he been? How did he intend to explain his absence?

He accosted me eagerly.

‘My God! This is terrible! My poor wife! I have only just heard.’

‘Where have you been?’ I asked.

‘Denby kept me late last night. It was one o’clock before we’d finished. Then I found that I’d forgotten the latchkey after all. I didn’t want to arouse the household, so Denby gave me a bed.’

‘How did you hear the news?’ I asked.

‘Wilkins knocked Denby up to tell him. My poor Emily! She was so self-sacrificing—such a noble character. She overtaxed her strength.’

A wave of revulsion swept over me. What a consummate hypocrite the man was!

‘I must hurry on,’ I said, thankful that he did not ask me whither I was bound[54 - he did not ask me whither I was bound – он не спросил меня, куда я направляюсь].

In a few minutes I was knocking at the door of Leastways Cottage.

Getting no answer, I repeated my summons impatiently. A window above me was cautiously opened, and Poirot himself looked out.

He gave an exclamation of surprise at seeing me. In a few brief words, I explained the tragedy that had occurred, and that I wanted his help.

‘Wait, my friend, I will let you in, and you shall recount to me the affair whilst I dress.’

In a few moments he had unbarred the door, and I followed him up to his room. There he installed me in a chair, and I related the whole story, keeping back nothing, and omitting no circumstance, however insignificant, whilst he himself made a careful and deliberate toilet[55 - whilst he himself made a careful and deliberate toilet – пока он тщательно и сосредоточенно совершал свой туалет (приводил себя в порядок).].

I told him of my awakening, of Mrs Inglethorp’s dying words, of her husband’s absence, of the quarrel the day before, of the scrap of conversation between Mary and her mother-in-law that I had overheard, of the former quarrel between Mrs Inglethorp and Evelyn Howard, and of the latter’s innuendoes.

I was hardly as clear as I could wish. I repeated myself several times, and occasionally had to go back to some detail[56 - I <…> had to go back to some detail – мне приходилось возвращаться к забытым подробностям] that I had forgotten. Poirot smiled kindly on me.

‘The mind is confused? Is it not so? Take time, mon ami[57 - Take time, mon ami. – Не спешите, друг мой.]. You are agitated; you are excited—it is but natural. Presently, when we are calmer, we will arrange the facts, neatly, each in his proper place. We will examine—and reject. Those of importance we will put on one side; those of no importance, pouf !’—he screwed up his cherub-like face[58 - cherub-like face – лицо как у херувима], and puffed comically enough—‘blow them away!’

‘That’s all very well,’ I objected, ‘but how are you going to decide what is important, and what isn’t? That always seems the difficulty to me.’

Poirot shook his head energetically. He was now arranging his moustache with exquisite care.

‘Not so. Voyons![59 - Voyons! – (фр.) Увидим!] One fact leads to another—so we continue. Does the next fit in with that? A merveille![60 - A merveille! – (фр.) Чудесно!] Good! We can proceed. This next little fact—no! Ah, that is curious! There is something missing—a link in the chain that is not there. We examine. We search. And that little curious fact, that possibly paltry little detail that will not tally, we put it here!’ He made an extravagant gesture with his hand. ‘It is significant! It is tremendous!’

‘Y–es—’

‘Ah!’ Poirot shook his forefinger so fiercely at me that I quailed before it. ‘Beware! Peril to the detective who says: “It is so small—it does not matter. It will not agree. I will forget it.” That way lies confusion! Everything matters.’

‘I know. You always told me that. That’s why I have gone into all the details of this thing whether they seemed to me relevant or not.’

‘And I am pleased with you. You have a good memory, and you have given me the facts faithfully. Of the order in which you present them, I say nothing—truly, it is deplorable! But I make allowances—you are upset. To that I attribute the circumstance that you have omitted one fact or paramount importance.’

‘What is that?’ I asked.

‘You have not told me if Mrs Inglethorp ate well last night.’

I stared at him. Surely the war had affected the little man’s brain. He was carefully engaged in brushing his coat before putting it on, and seemed wholly engrossed in the task.

‘I don’t remember,’ I said. ‘And, anyway, I don’t see—’

‘You do not see? But it is of the first importance.’

‘I can’t see why,’ I said, rather nettled. ‘As far as I can remember, she didn’t eat much. She was obviously upset, and it had taken her appetite away. That was only natural.’

‘Yes,’ said Poirot thoughtfully, ‘it was only natural.’

He opened a drawer, and took out a small dispatch case, then turned to me.

‘Now I am ready. We will proceed to the ch?teau[61 - ch?teau – (фр.) замок; зд. усадьба], and study matters on the spot[62 - study matters on the spot – изучить улики на месте]. Excuse me, mon ami, you dressed in haste, and your tie is on one side. Permit me.’ With a deft gesture, he rearranged it.

‘?a y est![63 - ?a y est! – (фр.) Готово!] Now, shall we start?’

We hurried up the village, and turned in at the lodge gates. Poirot stopped for a moment, and gazed sorrowfully over the beautiful expanse of park, still glittering with morning dew.

‘So beautiful, so beautiful, and yet, the poor family, plunged in sorrow, prostrated with grief[64 - the poor family, plunged in sorrow, prostrated with grief – бедная скорбящая семья, поверженная горем].’

He looked at me keenly as he spoke, and I was aware that I reddened under his prolonged gaze[65 - I reddened under his prolonged gaze – я покраснел под его долгим взглядом].

Was the family prostrated by grief? Was the sorrow at Mrs Inglethorp’s death so great? I realized that there was an emotional lack in the atmosphere. The dead woman had not the gift of commanding love. Her death was a shock and a distress, but she would not be passionately regretted.

Poirot seemed to follow my thoughts. He nodded his head gravely.

‘No, you are right,’ he said, ‘it is not as though there was a blood tie. She has been kind and generous to these Cavendishes, but she was not their own mother. Blood tells[66 - Blood tells. – Кровь говорит (т. е. кровнородственные связи сказываются).]—always remember that—blood tells.’

‘Poirot,’ I said, ‘I wish you would tell me why you wanted to know if Mrs Inglethorp ate well last night? I have been turning it over in my mind, but I can’t see how it has anything to do with the matter.’

He was silent for a minute or two as we walked along, but finally he said:

‘I do not mind telling you—though, as you know, it is not my habit to explain until the end is reached. The present contention is that Mrs Inglethorp died of strychnine poisoning, presumably administered in her coffee.’

‘Yes?’

‘Well, what time was the coffee served?’

‘About eight o’clock.’