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'If it is information you seek, you need not be at the pains of deranging yourself. I can tell you all you wish to know. The Dulcibella Sisters have cancelled their contract, and have left Coventry for an unknown destination.'

'Is that really so, Poirot?'

'You can take it from me, Hastings. I made inquiries the first thing this morning. After all, what else did you expect?'

True enough, nothing else could be expected under the circumstances. Cinderella had profited by the slight start I had been able to secure her, and would certainly not lose a moment in removing herself from the reach of the pursuer.

It was what I had intended and planned. Nevertheless, I was aware of being plunged into a network of fresh difficulties.

I had absolutely no means of communicating with the girl, and it was vital that she should know the line of defence that had occurred to me, and which I was prepared to carry out.

Of course it was possible that she might try to send word to me in some way or another, but I hardly thought it likely. She would know the risk she ran of a message being intercepted by Poirot, thus setting him on her track once more. Clearly her only course was to disappear utterly for the time being.

But, in the meantime, what was Poirot doing? I studied him attentively. He was wearing his most innocent air, and staring meditatively into the far distance. He looked altogether too placid and supine to give me reassurance. I had learned, with Poirot, that the less dangerous he looked, the more dangerous he was. His quiescence alarmed me.

'Observing a troubled quality in my glance?' he smiled benignantly. 'You are puzzled, Hastings? You ask yourself why I do not launch myself in pursuit?'

'Well-something of the kind.'

'It is what you would do, were you in my place. I understand that. But I am not of those who enjoy rushing up and down a country seeking a needle in a haystack, as you English say. No-let Mademoiselle Bella Duveen go. Without doubt, I shall be able to find her when the time comes. Until then, I am content to wait.'

I stared at him doubtfully. Was he seeking to mislead me? I had an irritating feeling that, even now, he was master of the situation. My sense of superiority was gradually waning.

I had contrived the girl's escape, and evolved a brilliant scheme for saving her from the consequences of her rash act-but I could not rest easy in my mind. Poirot's perfect calm awakened a thousand apprehensions.

'I suppose Poirot,' I said rather diffidently, 'I mustn't ask what your plans are? I've forfeited the fight.'

'But not at all. There is no secret about them. We return to France without delay. Precisely-"we"! You know very well that you cannot afford to let Papa Poirot out of your sight. Eh? is it not so, my friend? But remain in England by all means if you wish-'

I shook my head. He had hit the nail on the head. I could not afford to let him out of my sight. Although I could not expect his confidence after what had happened, I could still check his actions. The only danger to Bella lay with him.

Giraud and the French police were indifferent to her existence.

At all costs I must keep near Poirot.

Poirot observed me attentively as these reflections passed through my mind, and gave me a nod of satisfaction.

'I am right, am I not? And as you are quite capable of trying to follow me, disguised with some absurdity such as a false beard-which everyone would perceive, bien entendu-I much prefer that we should voyage together. It would annoy me greatly that anyone should mock themselves at you.'

'Very well, then. But it's only fair to warn you-'

'I know-I know all. You are my enemy! Be my enemy then. It does not worry me at all.'

'So long as it's all fair and aboveboard, I don't mind.'

'You have to the full the English passion for "fair play"! Now your scruples are satisfied, let us depart immediately. There is no time to be lost. Our stay in England has been short but sufficient. I know what I wanted to know.'

The tone was light, but I read a veiled menace into the words.

'Still-' I began, and stopped.

'Still-as you say! Without doubt you are satisfied with the part you are playing. Me, I preoccupy myself with Jack Renauld.'

Jack Renauld! The words gave me a start. I had completely forgotten that aspect of the case. Jack Renauld, in prison, with the shadow of the guillotine looming over him.

I saw the part I was playing in a more sinister light. I could save Bella-yes, but in doing so I ran the risk of sending an innocent man to his death.

I pushed the thought from me with horror. It could not be. He would be acquitted. Certainly he would be acquitted.

But the cold fear came back. Suppose he were not? What then? Could I have it on my conscience-horrible thought!

Would it come to that in the end? A decision. Bella or Jack Renauld? The promptings of my heart were to save the girl I loved at any cost to myself. But, if the cost were to another the problem was altered.

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Рекс Стаут, создатель знаменитого цикла детективных произведений о Ниро Вулфе, большом гурмане, страстном любителе орхидей и одном из самых великих сыщиков, описанных когда-либо в литературе, на этот раз поручает расследование запутанных преступлений частному детективу Текумсе Фоксу, округ Уэстчестер, штат Нью-Йорк.В уединенном лесном коттедже найдено тело Ридли Торпа, финансиста с незапятнанной репутацией. Энди Грант, накануне убийства посетивший поместье Торпа и первым обнаруживший труп, обвиняется в совершении преступления. Нэнси Грант, сестра Энди, обращается к Текумсе Фоксу, чтобы тот снял с ее брата обвинение в несовершённом убийстве. Фокс принимается за расследование («Смерть дублера»).Очень плохо для бизнеса, когда в банки с качественным продуктом кто-то неизвестный добавляет хинин. Частный детектив Эми Дункан берется за это дело, но вскоре ее отстраняют от расследования. Перед этим машина Эми случайно сталкивается с машиной Фокса – к счастью, без серьезных последствий, – и девушка делится с сыщиком своими подозрениями относительно того, кто виноват в порче продуктов. Виновником Эми считает хозяев фирмы, конкурирующей с компанией ее дяди, Артура Тингли. Девушка отправляется навестить дядю и находит его мертвым в собственном офисе… («Плохо для бизнеса»)Все началось со скрипки. Друг Текумсе Фокса, бывший скрипач, уговаривает частного детектива поучаствовать в благотворительной акции по покупке ценного инструмента для молодого скрипача-виртуоза Яна Тусара. Фокс не поклонник музыки, но вместе с другом он приходит в Карнеги-холл, чтобы послушать выступление Яна. Концерт проходит как назло неудачно, и, похоже, всему виной скрипка. Когда после концерта Фокс с товарищем спешат за кулисы, чтобы утешить Яна, они обнаруживают скрипача мертвым – он застрелился на глазах у свидетелей, а скрипка в суматохе пропала («Разбитая ваза»).

Рекс Тодхантер Стаут

Классический детектив