Chapter 22 Chapter Twenty Two

Poirot is not a person who likes to listen to other people's opinions. He is often quite satisfied with his own judgment, but there are exceptions.This time was an exception. After a brief exchange of ideas with Spence, he contacted a taxi company, and after a few words with his friend and Inspector Raglan, he got in the car and left. Yes, he agreed to let the car take him back to London, but he will stop for a while on the way and go to Elm Primary School first. He confessed to the driver that he would only go down for about a quarter of an hour before returning, and he took this opportunity to visit Miss Emlyn.

"I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour. You must have dinner." "Hey, M. Poirot, at least it's a compliment. I don't think you're going to disturb me for dinner if there's no urgent business?" "Thank you very much, to be honest, I would like to hear your advice." "real?" Miss Emlyn was a little surprised, she didn't look too surprised, but had a mocking expression on her face. "Why is the sun out of the west today, M. Poirot? Are you not always quite satisfied with your conclusions?" "Yes, I'm satisfied with my conclusions, but wouldn't I be greatly comforted and supported if I had some respectable person who agreed with me?"

She didn't speak, but looked at him questioningly. "I know who killed Joyce and Reynolds," he said, "and I'm sure you know too." "I didn't say I knew." Miss Emlyn said. "No, you didn't say that, but I think you have a point of view." "Guess?" Miss Emlyn asked, her tone becoming more serious. "That's an imprecise term. It should be said that your point of view is very clear." "Well, I admit that my point of view is very clear, but this does not mean that I will tell you my point of view." "Miss, I want to write a few words on a piece of paper, and I'll ask you if you agree or not after I finish writing."

Miss Emlyn stood up, walked to the desk, took out a piece of paper and handed it to Poirot. "That's interesting," she said, "let's write a few words." Poirot took out a pen from his pocket, scribbled a few words on the paper, folded it and handed it to her.She took it and unfolded it in her hands to watch. "How?" asked Poirot. "I agree with the first few, but it's hard to say about the latter. I have no evidence. Really, I haven't even thought about it." "As for the first few words, do you have clear evidence?" "I think so."

"Water," said Poirot, thinking, "you understand it when you hear it, and I understand it when I hear it. You are sure, and I dare, and now," said Poirot, "a boy is drowned. Died in the stream. Did you hear?" "I heard, someone called and told me. The boy is Joyce's younger brother. What does he have to do with the case?" "He wanted money," replied Poirot, "and he got it. So, when the right opportunity came, he had people drowned in the stream." His voice hadn't changed at all, if anything, it had only become harsher. "The man who told me the news," he said, "was full of sympathy for the boy, and was very disturbed. But I was different. He was young, the second child to die, but his death was no accident. , but by his own conduct, he wants money, he takes risks, he is too clever to know how much risk it takes, but he still wants money. He is only ten years old, but even in This age is also subject to retaliation, and it is no different from people at thirty, or even fifty, or ninety. Do you know what the first thing that comes to my mind is this kind of case?"

"It should be said," Miss Emlyn said, "you care more about justice than sympathy." "Sympathy," said Poirot, "I don't think Leopold can be saved at all. There is no hope for him. And justice, if justice can be done, I mean you and me, because I think we are of the same mind— — It should be said that justice can't save Leopold. But it can save other Leopolds, and maybe save other children's lives. If we can get justice quickly, it is not safe at all. The killer has killed more than one Man, for him to kill would make him feel safe, and I'm going back to London to talk to a few people about what to do. Perhaps, to persuade them to take my advice."

"It's not easy." Miss Emlyn said. "No, I don't think so. The modus operandi, the modus operandi, may be hard to figure out, but I think I can convince them what's going on, because they understand the psychology of the modus operandi. I want to hear from you, just you this time." Opinion, not proof. It's Nichlos, Ranson, and Desmond, Holland's character. Can I trust them?" "I think they're totally trustworthy, that's how I see it. They're pretty stupid in some ways, but that's how people are. Basically, they're good, like apples that haven't been eaten by worms. "

"Again about apples," said Hercule Poirot mournfully. "I must go, the carriage is waiting, and I have to pay a visit."