英语小说网

"Tell me in your own words exactly what happened."

"Your name?"

"It must have been about nine o'clock, sir, last night. That or a little after."

"I went in to Mr. Ratchett as usual, sir, and attended to his wants."

"To fold or hang up his clothes, sir. Put his dental plate in water and see that he had everything he wanted for the night."

"Was his manner much the same as usual?"

"And your home address?"

"You have heard that your master has been murdered?"

"21 Friar Street, Clerkenwell."

"Thirty-nine."

"You are, I understand, the valet of M. Ratchett?"

The valet considered.

"What were your duties exactly?"

"Yes, sir. A very shocking occurrence."

"Well, sir, I think he was upset."

"Edward Henry Masterman."

The valet considered a moment.

"Will you now tell me, please, at what hour you last saw M. Ratchett?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your age?"

The American was succeeded by the pale Englishman with the inexpressive face whom Poirot had already noticed on the day before. He stood waiting very correctly. Poirot motioned to him to sit down.

"Was that unusual?"

"Oh, no, sir, he lost his temper easily -- as I say, it just depended what had happened to upset him."

"In what way -- upset?"

Dr. Constantine leaned forward a little.

"What happened next?"

"No, sir."

"Did your master ever take a sleeping draught?"

"Did he take it last night?"

"I couldn't say, I'm sure, sir. There was no name on the bottle. Just 'The Sleeping Draught to be taken at bedtime.'"

"You didn't actually see him drink it?"

"I asked if there was anything further, and asked what time M. Ratchett would like to be called in the morning. He said he didn't want to be disturbed till he rang."

"Do you know what drug he was in the habit of taking?"

"Yes, sir. I poured it into a glass and put it on top of the toilet table ready for him."

"Over a letter he'd been reading. He asked me if it was I who had put it in his compartment. Of course I told him I hadn't done any such thing, but he swore at me and found fault with everything I did."

"Always when travelling by train, sir. He said he couldn't sleep otherwise."

"Quite usual, sir. He used to ring the bell for the conductor and then send him for me when he was ready to get up."

"How did you know?"

"Was that usual?"

"Had you an affection for your employer, Masterman?"

"No, sir."

"Was he usually an early or a late riser?"

"No, sir."

Masterman's face became, if possible, even more inexpressive than it was normally.

"It depended, sir, on his mood. Sometimes he'd get up for breakfast, sometimes he wouldn't get up till just on lunch time."

"But you didn't like him?"

"So that you weren't alarmed when the morning wore on and no summons came?"

A little colour came into the man's cheeks.

"Yes, sir." The man spoke quite unemotionally.

"Shall we put it that I don't care very much for Americans, sir."

"Did you know that your master had enemies?"

"I should hardly like to say that, sir. He was a generous employer."

"Do you remember reading in the paper of the Armstrong kidnapping case?"

"Have you ever been in America?"

"I had heard him discussing some letters, sir, with Mr. MacQueen."

"The lower one, sir."

"No, indeed, sir." The valet's tone held positive warmth and feeling for the first time. "I can hardly believe it, sir."

"Does he speak English?"

"I told Mr. MacQueen, sir, that the master wanted him. Then I went to my own compartment and read."

Poirot was looking at his plan.

"Yes, sir."

"Nevertheless, it is true. Now, to pass to your own movements last night. A matter of routine, you understand. What did you do after leaving your master?"

"Yes, sir. A big Italian fellow."

"That is No. 4?"

"No, sir. I prefer to read."

"Is there anyone in with you?"

"I see -- and you had which berth?"

"Did you know that your employer, M. Ratchett, was the principal instigator in that affair?"

"The end second-class one, sir. Next to the dining car."

"Your compartment was --?"

"Yes, indeed, sir. A little baby girl, wasn't it? A very shocking affair."

"Well, a kind of English, sir." The valet's tone was deprecating. "He's been in America -- Chicago -- I understand."

"Do you and he talk together much?"

"I applied a little oil of cloves, sir, which relieved the pain a little, but I was still not able to get to sleep. I turned the light on above my head and continued to read -- to take my mind off it, as it were."

"Most painful, sir."

"I went to bed, sir, but I didn't sleep."

"Did you do anything for it?"

"I find it highly enjoyable, sir."

"A good story?"

"Why didn't you sleep?"

"And what, may I ask, are you reading?" he inquired.

"Yes, sir, I dropped off about four in the morning."

"I had the toothache, sir."

"Oh, là là-- that is painful."

"At about ten-thirty, sir, this Italian wanted to go to bed. So the conductor came and made the beds up."

"And then you went to bed and to sleep?"

"Well, let us continue. You returned to your compartment and read Love's Captive till -- when?"

"And did you not go to sleep at all?"

"At present, sir, I am reading Love's Captive, by Mrs. Arabella Richardson."

Poirot smiled. He could visualize the scene -- the large voluble Italian, and the snub direct administered by the gentleman's gentleman.

"And you have been with M. Ratchett -- how long?"

"As far as you know, was there any quarrel or bad blood between your master and M. MacQueen?"

"No, sir."

"With Sir Henry Tomlinson, sir, in Grosvenor Square."

"I'm afraid not. I'm sorry, sir."

"Did you hear anything during the night?"

"I don't think so, sir. Nothing unusual, I mean. The train being at a standstill made it all very quiet."

Poirot was silent a moment or two, then he said: "Well, I think there is very little more to be said. You cannot throw any light upon the tragedy?"

"And your companion?"

"Did you?"

"Oh, no, sir. Mr. MacQueen was a very pleasant gentleman."

"He did not leave the compartment at all during the night?"

"The Italian fellow? Oh, he just snored."

"Where were you in service before you came to M. Ratchett?"

"No, sir."

"Just over nine months, sir."

"Why did you leave him?"

"He was going to East Africa, sir, and did not require my services any longer. But I am sure he will speak for me, sir. I was with him some years."

Poirot nodded to him, indicating that he can leave.

"No, sir. I only smoke cigarettes -- gaspers, sir."

"Thank you. That will do."

The valet hesitated a moment.

"You'll excuse me, sir, but the elderly American lady is in what I might describe as a state, sir. She's saying she knows all about the murderer. She's in a very excitable condition, sir."

"In that case," said Poirot, smiling, "we had better see her next."

"Send her to us, my friend," said Poirot. "We will listen to her story now."

"Shall I tell her, sir? She's been demanding to see someone in authority for a long time. The conductor's been trying to pacify her."

"Thank you, Masterman. By the way, are you a pipe smoker?"