Agatha Christie The Hollow Chapter I At 6:13 a.m. ... - bzelbublive.info

feel is really nice and probably a family man--boys, I think, and he helps them withMeccano in the evenings--and a wife who has everything spotless but a littleovercrowded ..." Hercule Poirot blinked as Lady Angkatell developed herimaginary sketch of Inspector Grange's home life. "By the way his moustachedroops," went on Lady Angkatell--"I think that a home that is too spotless might besometimesdepressing--like soap on hospital nurses' faces. Quite a shine! But that is more abroadwhere things lag behind--in London nursing homes they have lots of powder andreally vivid lipstick. But I was saying, M. Poirot, that you really must come to lunchproperly when all this ridiculous business is over." "You are very kind." "Ido not mind the police myself," said Lady Angkatell. "I really find it all quiteinteresting. 'Do let me help you in any way I can,' I said to Inspector Grange. He seemsrather a bewildered sort of person, but methodical."Motive seems so importantto policemen," she went on. "Talking of hospital nurses just now, I believe thatJohn Christow--a nurse with red hair and an upturnednose--quite attractive. But, of course, it was a long time ago and the police might notbe interested. One doesn't really know how much poor Gerda had to put up with.She is the loyal type, don't you think? Or possibly she believes what is told her. Ithink if one has not a great deal of intelligence, it is wise to do that." Quitesuddenly. Lady Angkatell flung open the study door and ushered Poirot in, cryingbrightly, "Here is M. Poirot." She swept round him and out, shutting the door.Inspector Grange and Gudgeon were sitting by the desk. A young man with a notebookwas in a corner. Gudgeon rose respectfully to his feet. Poirot hastened intoapologies."I retire immediately. I assure you I had no idea that Lady Angkatell--" "No, no,you wouldn't have." Grange's moustache looked more pessimistic than ever thismorning. Perhaps, thought Poirot, fascinated by Lady Angkatell5 s recent sketch ofGrange, there has been too much cleaning or perhaps a Benares brass table has beenpurchased so that the good Inspector he really cannot have space to move. Angrilyhe dismissed these thoughts. Inspector Grange's clean but overcrowded home, hiswife, his boys and their addiction to Meccano were all figments of Lady Angkatell'sbusy brain. But the vividness with which they assumed concrete reality interestedhim. It was quite an accomplishment."Sit down, M. Poirot," said Grange. "There's something I want to ask you about, andI've nearly finished here." He turned his attention back to Gudgeon, who deferentiallyand almost under protest resumed his seat and turned an expressionless facetowards his interlocutor. "And that's all you can remember?" "Yes, sir.Everything, sir, was very much as usual. There was no unpleasantness of anykind." "There's a fur cape thing--out in that summer house by the pool. Which ofthe ladies did it belong to?" "Are you referring, sir, to a cape of platinumfox? I noticed it yesterday when I took out the glasses to the pavilion. But it is notthe property of anyone in this house, sir." "Whose is it, then?"