A faint cloud passed over Johns face.
I have not the least idea what my wifes views on the subject are.
The answer brought a momentary stiffness in its train. John broke the rather awkward silence by saying with a slight effort:
I told you, didnt I, that Mr Inglethorp has returned?
Poirot bent his head.
Its an awkward position for all of us. Of course one has to treat him as usualbut, hang it all[92], ones gorge does rise[93] at sitting down to eat with a possible murderer!
Poirot nodded sympathetically.
I quite understand. It is a very difficult situation for you, Mr Cavendish. I would like to ask you one question. Mr Inglethorps reason for not returning last night was, I believe, that he had forgotten the latchkey. Is not that so?
Yes.
I suppose you are quite sure that the latchkey was forgottenthat he did not take it after all?
I have no idea. I never thought of looking. We always keep it in the hall drawer. Ill go and see if its there now.
Poirot held up his hand with a faint smile.
No, no, Mr Cavendish, it is too late now. I am certain that you will find it. If Mr Inglethorp did take it, he has had ample time to replace it by now.
But do you think
I think nothing. If anyone had chanced to look this morning before his return, and seen it there, it would have been a valuable point in his favour. That is all.
John looked perplexed.
Do not worry, said Poirot smoothly. I assure you that you need not let it trouble you. Since you are so kind, let us go and have some breakfast.
Everyone was assembled in the dining room. Under the circumstances, we were naturally not a cheerful party. The reaction after a shock is always trying, and I think we were all suffering from it. Decorum and good breeding naturally enjoined that our demeanour should be much as usual, yet I could not help wondering if this self-control were really a matter of great difficulty. There were no red eyes, no signs of secretly indulged grief. I felt that I was right in my opinion that Dorcas was the person most affected by the personal side of the tragedy.
I pass over Alfred Inglethorp, who acted the bereaved widower in a manner that I felt to be disgusting in its hypocrisy. Did he know that we suspected him, I wondered. Surely he could not be unaware of the fact, conceal it as we would. Did he feel some secret stirring of fear, or was he confident that his crime would go unpunished? Surely the suspicion in the atmosphere must warn him that he was already a marked man.
But did everyone suspect him? What about Mrs Cavendish? I watched her as she sat at the head of the table, graceful, composed, enigmatic. In her soft grey frock, with white ruffles at the wrists falling over her slender hands, she looked very beautiful. When she chose, however, her face could be sphinx-like in its inscrutability. She was very silent, hardly opening her lips, and yet in some queer way I felt that the great strength of her personality was dominating us all.
And little Cynthia? Did she suspect? She looked very tired and ill, I thought. The heaviness and languor of her manner were very marked. I asked her if she were feeling ill, and she answered frankly:
Yes, Ive got the most beastly headache.
Have another cup of coffee, mademoiselle? said Poirot solicitously. It will revive you. It is unparalleled for the mal de tête[94]. He jumped up and took her cup.
No sugar, said Cynthia, watching him, as he picked up the sugar tongs.
No sugar? You abandon it in the wartime, eh?
No, I never take it in coffee.
Sacré![95] murmured Poirot to himself, as he brought back the replenished cup.
Only I heard him, and glancing up curiously at the little man I saw that his face was working with suppressed excitement, and his eyes were as green as a cats. He had heard or seen something that had affected him stronglybut what was it? I do not usually label myself as dense, but I must confess that nothing out of the ordinary had attracted my attention.
In another moment, the door opened and Dorcas appeared.
Mr Wells to see you, sir, she said to John.
I remembered the name as being that of the lawyer to whom Mrs Inglethorp had written the night before.
John rose immediately.
Show him into my study. Then he turned to us. My mothers lawyer, he explained. And in a lower voice: He is also Coroneryou understand. Perhaps you would like to come with me?
We acquiesced and followed him out of the room. John strode on ahead and I took the opportunity of whispering to Poirot:
There will be an inquest then?
Poirot nodded absently. He seemed absorbed in thought[96]; so much so that my curiosity was aroused.
What is it? You are not attending to what I say.
It is true, my friend. I am much worried.
Why?
Because Mademoiselle Cynthia does not take sugar in her coffee.
What? You cannot be serious?
But I am most serious. Ah, there is something there that I do not understand. My instinct was right.
What instinct?
The instinct that led me to insist on examining those coffee cups. Chut![97] no more now!
We followed John into his study, and he closed the door behind us.
Mr Wells was a pleasant man of middle-age, with keen eyes, and the typical lawyers mouth. John introduced us both, and explained the reason of our presence.
You will understand, Wells, he added, that this is all strictly private. We are still hoping that there will turn out to be no need for investigation of any kind.
Quite so, quite so, said Mr Wells soothingly. I wish we could have spared you the pain and publicity of an inquest, but, of course, its quite unavoidable in the absence of a doctors certificate.
Примечания
1
invalided home from the Front демобилизован с фронта по случаю ранения
2
given a months sick leave получил месяц отпуска для восстановления
3
Lady Bountiful леди Баунтифул, т. е. щедрая благодетельница (по имени персонажа пьесы Дж. Фаркера «Уловка кавалеров»).
4
country-place загородная усадьба
5
He had been completely under his wifes ascendancy. Он находился полностью под влиянием своей жены.
6
she certainly had the whip hand, namely: the purse strings учитывая ее достаток, она могла рассчитывать на уважение
7
rotten little bounder гнусный маленький пройдоха
8
Jack of all trades мастерица на все руки
9
protégée (фр.) протеже, подопечная
10
He came a cropper. Он прогорел (потерпел крах).
11
Her conversation <> was couched in the telegraphic style. Ее манера изъясняться напоминала телеграфный стиль.
12
The labourer is worthy of his hire. Трудящийся достоин награды за труды свои (цитата из Евангелия, Лк 10:7).
13
slumbering fire заградительный огонь
14
fête (фр.) вечеринка, праздник
15
He certainly struck a rather alien note. Он явно выпадал из общей компании.
16
pince-nez (фр.) пенсне
17
VAD = Voluntary Aid Detachment (добровольное подразделение гражданских лиц, предоставляющее уход за военнослужащими в Соединенном Королевстве и других странах Британской Империи).
18
for my sins замаливаю грехи
19
deuce of a mess изрядный беспорядок
20
At any rate <> Ive spoken my mind! В любом случае, я сказала все, что думаю!
21
water off a ducks back как с гуся вода
22
Hes a bad lot. Он плохая партия.
23
I shouldnt be so damned hard up. Я не был бы в таком чертовски трудном положении.
24
Im at my wits end for money. Я в полном отчаянии из-за денег.
25
fly in the ointment перен. ложка дегтя
26
tableaux (фр.) pl. инсценировки, представления, живые картины
27
pony-trap двуколка, запряженная парой пони
28
they were suddenly petrified into a stern and forbidding expression они вдруг окаменели с неприятными выражениями на лицах
29
he had a certain charm of manner он определенно обладал обаянием
30
Mon ami! (фр.) Дружище!