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

"It might possibly belong to Miss Cray, sir. Miss Veronica Cray, the motion pictureactress. She was wearing something of the kind." "When?" "When she washere the night before last, sir." "You didn't mention her as having been aguest here." "She was not a guest, sir. Miss Cray lives at Dovecotes, the--er--cottageup the lane, and she came over after dinner, having run out of matches, to borrowsome." "Did she take away six boxes?" asked Poirot. Gudgeon turned to him."That is correct, sir. Her ladyship, after having inquired if we had plenty, insistedon Miss Cray's taking half a dozen boxes." "Which she left in the pavilion," saidPoirot. "Yes, sir, I observed them there yesterday morning." "There is notmuch that that man does not observe," remarked Poirot as Gudgeon departed,closing the door softly and deferentially behind him. Inspector Grange merelyremarked that servants were the devil! "However," he said with a little renewedcheerfulness, "there's always the kitchen maid. Kitchen maids talk--not like thesestuck-up upper servants." "I've put a man on to make inquiries at Harley Street,"he went on, "and I shall be there myself later in the day. We ought toget something there. Daresay, you know, that wife of Christow's had a good bit to putup with. Some of these fashionable doctors and their lady patients--well, you'd besurprised! And I gather from Lady Angkatell that there was some trouble over ahospital nurse. Of course, she was very vague about it." "Yes," Poirotagreed. "She would be vague. ..." A skilfully built up picture. . . . JohnChristow and amorous intrigues with hospital nurses . . . the opportunities of a doctor'slife . . . plenty of reasons for Gerda Christow's jealousy which had culminated atlast in murder. . . . Yes, a skilfully suggested picture . . . drawing attention to aHarley Street background--awayfrom The Hollow--away from the moment when Henrietta Savernake, steppingforward, had taken the revolver from Gerda Christow's unresisting hand . . . awayfrom that other moment when John Christow, dying, had said Henrietta. . . .Suddenly opening his eyes, which had been half closed, Hercule Poirot demandedwith irresistible curiosity: "Do your boys play with Meccano?" "Eh, what?"Inspector Grange came back from a frowning reverie to stare at Poirot. "Why,what on earth? As a matter of fact, they're a bit young--but I was thinking of givingTeddy a Meccano set for Christmas. What made you ask?" Poirot shook his head.What made Lady Angkatell dangerous, he thought, was the fact that those intuitivewild guesses others might often be right. . . With a careless (seemingly careless) word shebuilt up a picture--and if part of the picture was right, wouldn't you, in spite of yourself,believe in the other half of the picture . . . Inspector Grange was speaking."There's a point I want to put to you, M. Poirot. This Miss Cray, the actress--shetraipses over here borrowing matches. If she wanted to borrow matches why didn'tshe come to your place only a step or two away? Why come about half a mile?"Hercule Poirot shrugged his shoulders. "There might be reasons. Snob reasons, shall wesay? My little cottage, it is small, unimportant. I am only a week-ender but Sir Henry