Chapter 21 Chapter 21

As Poirot climbed up the hill, he forgot for a moment that his feet hurt.A thought occupied his entire mind. Before, he had a vague feeling that these things were all related to each other, but he had never been able to figure out what the connection was. This time he finally figured it out.He clearly felt that there was a potential danger-someone would be in danger if precautions were not taken early, and the situation was very serious. Elspeth, Mackay came to meet him at the door: "You're exhausted," she said, "come in and sit down." "Is your brother home?"

"No, he's gone to the police. I guess something happened." "An accident?" He was taken aback. "So fast? Impossible." "Ah!" replied Elspeth, "what do you mean?" "It's nothing, it's nothing, you mean someone has an accident?" "Yes, but I don't know the exact circumstances. Anyway, Tim, Raglan came to call him away. How about a cup of tea?" "No," said Poirot. "Thank you very much. But I think—I want to go back to the hotel." He could not bear the thought of strong, bitter tea.He had to make up an excuse so as not to be too impolite. "Look at my feet," he explained. "I can't stand them. My shoes take too much effort in the country. I'll have to change them."

Elspeth looked down at Poirot's feet. "How can this work," she said, "with patent leather shoes. By the way, I have a letter from you. The stamps are foreign. From foreign countries, please." Superintendent Spence handed it over, and I'll get it for you." After a while she came back with the letter and handed it to him. "Do you still want the envelope? If not, I want to ask for it for my nephew. He likes collecting stamps." "No problem." Poirot opened the letter and handed her the envelope, and she thanked her and entered the room. Poirot opened the letter and read that Mr. Gorby's overseas service business was as well run as his home business.He came up with results quickly and effortlessly.

To tell the truth, the results were of no great use either--and Poirot did not expect them to be of much help. Olga, Seminova did not return home.No one in her family survived, but she had an elderly friend who often wrote to her, who knew something of her in England, and who was on good terms with her employer, who was sometimes severe but And very generous at the same time. Olga, Seminova's last letters dated a year and a half ago, in which a young man was mentioned.She mentioned the marriage vaguely, but she did not disclose the name of the man; but due to some considerations on his part, the marriage was not settled for a while, and in the last letter she looked forward to a bright future with hope.There was no further letter, and the elderly friend thought she had probably married her English boyfriend and changed addresses.This is often the case for girls once they go abroad. As long as they have organized a happy family, they will stop writing letters.

She was not at all worried about Olga. It all fits, thought Poirot.Leslie had said that she was going to get married, but I didn't know if it was true or not.Mrs. Llewellyn Smythe was said to be "generous" and someone gave Leslie a large sum of money, perhaps from Olga (whose employer had given her) to induce him to forge papers for her. Elspeth, MacKay came out on the balcony again, and Poirot asked her if Olga and Leslie were hot. She considered for a moment, then denied Poirot's question. "If that's the case, they can really keep it secret. No one has ever talked about them, and they can't hide anything in such a small place."

"Young Ferrier had an affair with a married woman. Perhaps he told the girl not to say a word to her employer." "Probably so. Mrs. Smythe must have known of Leslie Ferrier's misconduct, and would have warned the girl not to have anything to do with him." Poirot folded the letter and put it in his pocket. "Let me make you a pot of tea." "No, no—I have to go back to the hotel and change my shoes at once. You don't know when your brother will be back?" "I don't know. They didn't say what they wanted him for." Poirot walked towards the hotel, which was only a few hundred yards from Spence's house. When he got to the door he found it open, and his landlady, a young woman in her early thirties, came towards him with a smile.

"A lady came to see you," she said. "I've been waiting a long time, and I told her I didn't know where you were, or when you'd be back, but she said she was waiting for you." Then he said, "It's Mrs. Drake. I see she's very anxious. She's usually very calm. I guess she must be frightened. She's in the drawing room. Shall I get you some tea or something?" "No," said Poirot, "you'd better keep quiet, and I'll hear what she has to say." He opened the door and entered the living room, Aunt Royna was by the window.The window did not see the gate, so she did not see Poirot return.When she heard the door open, she turned around abruptly.

"M. Poirot, you are back at last. I have been waiting so hard." "Ma'am, I'm so sorry. I went to Stone Field Forest and talked to my friend Mrs. Oliver. Then I talked to two boys, Nicholas and Desmond." "Nicholas and Desmond? Oh, I know. I've been wanting to ask for a day, what a mess in my head!" "You are a little nervous," said Poirot softly. Poirot did not expect to see such a scene.Rowena Drake would actually be nervous, her calm look no longer exists, she is no longer busy making arrangements, and no longer imposes her will on others.

"Have you heard?" she asked. "Oh, no, you probably haven't." "What did you hear?" "A dreadful thing. He—he's dead. Killed." "Who's dead, ma'am?" "Looks like you haven't heard, and he's only a kid, and I thought - oh, what a fool I am. I should have told you, I should have told you when you asked me, and that's why I feel special - —particularly sorry, because I know I know best, and feel—but I mean it purely, M. Poirot, really.” "Sit down, ma'am. Sit down and talk, calm down, and tell me what happened. A child died—and another?"

"Her brother," said Mrs. Drake, "is Leopold." "Leopold, Reynolds?" "Yes. They found his body on a field track. He must have gone out to play alone in the creek after school, and someone pushed him into the stream--someone put his head in the water." .” "Exactly like her sister Joyce?" "Yeah, yeah. I know what's going on--must be crazy. But don't know who's crazy, it's too bad. Not at all, but I think I know something, and I really think it's pretty dastardly." gone." "Madam, please tell me."

"Well, I wanted to tell you, and that's why I came to tell you. Because, you came to me after you talked to Miss Whittaker. She told you that I was startled by something, and I Must have seen something. Saw something in the hall, in the hall of my house. I said I didn't see anything, and nothing frightened me, because, you know, I thought—" She stopped. "What did you really see?" "I should have told you then. I saw the door of the study open, pushed it cautiously--and then he came out. At least, he didn't come out graciously, he just stood in the doorway, Then quickly closed the door and retracted." "Who is it?" "Leopold. Leopold, that's the kid who's being murdered now, and you see, I thought--oh, what a mistake, what a mistake, if I'd told you-- If only you could figure out what's going on." "You thought?" said Poirot. "You thought Leopold had killed his sister, didn't you?" "Yes, I thought so. Not at the time, of course, because I didn't know she was dead, but he had a rather queer look on his face. He's always been a queer kid. Sometimes you feel a little afraid of him, because you You'd think he's -- not quite right. He's very smart, with a pretty high IQ, but he's always absent-minded." "I thought to myself, why is Leopold here instead of playing chestnuts in the fire?, and I thought, what is he doing? It looks so weird? I didn't think about it again, but, I was taken aback by his look, which is why I broke the vase, and Elizabeth helped me pick up the pieces, and I went back to the house where I was playing chestnuts-in-the-fire and didn't think about it again. Until we found I didn't remember until Joyce. But I thought—" "You think Leopold did it?" "Yeah. Yes, that's what I thought, and I think that's why he looked so weird, and I thought I knew why. I like to think about things—so much in my life that I thought I knew everything, Nothing could be wrong, but I could be very, very wrong. Because, you know, he was killed, which means it must not be what I imagined. He must have gone in and found her there--dead-- —He was taken aback, almost terrified. So he wanted to sneak out while no one was around. He looked up and saw me, so he shrank back, closed the door, and came out when there was no one in the hall, instead of Because he killed Joyce, no, just freaked out to see her dead." "You never said a word? You never said who you saw even after you found out she was dead?" "No, what do I say, I can't bring it up, he's--you know, he's too young. Ten years old, almost eleven, I mean--I didn't think he could Knowing what consequences I will cause, it cannot be completely his fault. From a moral point of view, he should not be responsible. He has always been very strange. Send him to a well-known place, if I think it is necessary, he should be sent to special psychological treatment, I——I do it out of good intentions, you must believe it, believe that I do it out of good intentions." What a sad thing to say, thought Poirot, the saddest thing in the world, and Mrs. Drake seemed to read his mind. "Yeah," she said, "what I say is well-meaning, I'm quite well-intentioned, and people often think they know what's best for other people when they don't, because, you know, they The reason for this surprise was probably that he saw the murderer, or found a clue. Then the murderer felt unsafe, and so—so he bided his time until finally he was able to drown him in the small room when he was alone. Xizhong, that way he won’t tell the truth, so he can’t tell. It would have been nice if I had told you, or the police, or whoever, but I thought I had it all figured out.” "To this day," said Poirot, who sat quietly for a while, watching Mrs. Drake trying to suppress her sobs, "I just heard that Leopold has been spending so much money lately that he must have been paid to gag him. " "But who—who?" "We'll find out," said Poirot, "and it won't be long."