Chapter 23 Chapter Twenty-Three

"Did you hear what they were doing in Stone Field Forest?" Mrs. Cartwright asked as she loaded bags of groceries into shopping baskets. "Stonefield Woods?" Elspeth, MacKay replied, "No, I don't hear what it's doing." She picked out a bag of oatmeal, and the two women did their morning shopping at the new supermarket. "They said the trees there were dangerous. A few forest officers came early in the morning. It was on the side of a steep slope with a crooked tree. Is there a tree that is going to fall over there? Last winter there was a tree Killed by Thunderbolt, but I don't think it's far from there. They're digging up the roots anyway, down there, but they're sure to mess up there."

"Oh, but," said Elspeth, "I think they must know what they're doing, and they've probably been invited." "They also called a few policemen to keep people away and ensure that no one would mix in. They said they had to find the problematic trees first." "So it is, I see," replied Elspeth, MacKay. She might have known it, not that she had been told, but Elspeth didn't need to be told at the time. Ariadlee Oliver opened the telegram she had just received through the door. She was accustomed to receiving telegrams from the telephone, and when the bell rang, she hurriedly found a pencil to write it down, and insisted that someone send a typed letter to her. She sent it for verification, so today she received a "real telegram" which shocked her.

Please take Mrs. Butler and Miranda to your home as soon as possible. Please ask the doctor for an operation urgently. She ran into the kitchen, where Judith Butler was making sweet sauce. "Judith," cried Mrs. Oliver, "go and pack up. I'll go back to London, and you too, and Miranda." "Thank you for your kindness, Ariadli, but I have a lot of things to do at home, and you don't need to hurry away today, don't you think?" "No, I must go, I am told to go back," replied Mrs. Oliver. "Who told you to go back to your housekeeper?"

"No," said Mrs. Oliver. "It's someone else. I must do what this man says. Go, hurry." "Right now I don't want to leave the house. I can't." "You must go," replied Mrs. Oliver. "The car is ready. I have it parked at the gate. We can start in a moment." "I don't want to take Miranda with me. I can entrust her to someone to take care of, the Reynolds' house, or Rowena Drake." "Miranda is going too," interrupted Mrs. Oliver at once. "Don't make trouble, Judith. It's a serious situation, and I don't know how you'd think of putting her in the care of the Reynolds family. They have Two kids were killed, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, really, it makes one think there's something wrong with that house. I mean who's--oh, what did I say?" "We talk too much," said Mrs. Oliver. "But," she added. "If anyone else is to be killed, I see Ann Reynolds as the next most likely." "What's the matter with their family! Why are they being killed one by one? Oh, Ariadley, it's so frightening!" "Yes," said Mrs. Oliver, "but it's normal to feel intimidated sometimes. I just got the telegram, and I did as I was told." "Yes, I didn't hear the telegram."

"I didn't receive it from the phone, it was stuffed in through the door." She hesitated for a moment, then handed the telegram to her friend. "What does that mean? An operation?" "Tonsillitis, probably," said Mrs. Oliver. "Didn't Miranda have a terrible sore throat last week? Does that mean it's more likely to take her to London to see a throat specialist?" "Are you mad, Ariadlee?" "Crazy, perhaps," replied Mrs. Oliver, "go ahead, Miranda will love London very much, you don't have to worry about it, she doesn't need any surgery. In spy novels, it's called a sham, and we can Take her to the theatre, play or ballet, whatever she wants to see, in general I think it's best to take her to the ballet performance."

"I was terrified," Judith said. Ariadley saw her friend trembling slightly, and Mrs. Oliver thought that she was more of a water sprite than ever, as if she had come out of the world. "Go," said Mrs. Oliver. "I promised M. Hercule Poirot that I would take you as soon as he spoke. Here, he has spoken." "What the hell is going on here?" Judith said. "I don't know why I moved here." "I sometimes wonder why you choose this place," replied Mrs. Oliver, "but there is no fixed place to live. A friend of mine moved to the swamp, and I asked him why he wanted to go there." Live. He said he always wanted to go, always wanted to go. He actually went as soon as he retired. I said I've never been there, but I guess it must be damp. How's the actual situation? He said he himself He has never been there, he doesn't know what it is like. But he has always wanted to go, and he is very clear-headed."

"Did he really go?" went. " "Did he like it after he went?" "Well, I haven't heard of it yet," said Mrs. Oliver. "But people are weird, aren't they? There are things they want to do and things they must do..." she cried, going into the garden. " Miranda, let's go to London." Miranda approached slowly. "To London?" "Ariadley took us," said her mother, "and we went to the theater. Mrs. Oliver thinks she might be able to get a ballet. Would you like to see a ballet?" "Great," Miranda replied, with a twinkle in her eyes, "I have to say goodbye to a friend first."

"We'll be leaving right away." "Oh, I won't be long, but I have to tell you, I made a promise." She ran down the garden and disappeared through the door. "Who is Miranda's friend?" Mrs. Oliver asked curiously. "I never knew," said Judith, "she never mentioned it to me, and I sometimes thought she only had birds she saw in the woods as friends, or squirrels or something, but she had no special friends." .She never brings girls home for tea or anything, unlike other girls, and as for her real friend, it should be Joyce, Reynolds." She said evasively, "Joyce Always tell her stories about elephants and tigers and stuff." She reminded me, "Ah, I should go upstairs and pack, since you must. But I really don't want to leave here, so many things are not done , like this sauce—”

"You must go," replied Mrs. Oliver, her tone decisive. Judith took a few suitcases and got out of her coat, and Miranda came in through the side door out of breath. "Shall we go after dinner?" she asked. Although she looks like a dryad, she is still a healthy child who loves to eat. "We'll eat on the road," said Mrs. Oliver. "We'll eat at the Black Boy's in Haversham. It's a good place to go. It's only three quarters of an hour away. They do a good job. Come on, Miranda." , let's go." "I don't have time to tell Cassie I can't go to the photo shoot with her tomorrow, oh, I might give her a call."

"Then go and come back quickly." Her mother said. Miranda ran into the living room, where the phone was.Judith and Mrs. Oliver loaded the boxes into the car.Miranda ran out of the living room. "I told her," she said breathlessly, "it's all right now." "You're crazy, Ariadlee," said Judith as they got into the car. "You're crazy. What's the matter?" "We'll know then, I guess," said Mrs. Oliver, "whether I'm crazy or he's crazy." "Who is he?" "Hercule Poirot," replied Mrs. Oliver. London.Hercule Poirot was sitting in a room with four other people. Among the four were Inspector Timothy and Raglan, who had the same admiration and admiration on their faces as usual when they met people of higher status than themselves; The second was Superintendent Spence; the third was Alfred, Richmond, County Constable;They all looked at Poirot with different expressions, which could be said to be expressionless. "M. Poirot, you seem very sure of it." "I am quite sure," replied Hercule Poirot, "that if it happened in itself, and people realize that it is likely to be so, then it is only necessary to find a counter-evidence; if no counter-evidence is found, then Your own beliefs are strengthened." "The motives seem to be a bit complicated, and that's my family's opinion." "No," said Poirot, "it's not really complicated, it's just too simple, too simple to tell." Mr. Prosecutor had a sneer on his face. "We shall soon have a definite proof," said Inspector Raglan. "Of course, if something goes wrong on this point..." "The spring is ding ding, and the cat didn't fall into the well?" said Hercule Poirot. "What do you mean?" "Well, you have to admit that's just your assumption." "There is already clear evidence. When a girl disappears, there are often not many reasons. The first is that she left with a certain man, and the second is that she died. Others are too far-fetched and impossible." "You have nothing that deserves our particular attention, M. Poirot?" "Yes. I got in touch with a reputed firm of realtors. Among them were friends of mine who specialized in properties in the West Indies, the Aegean region, the Adriatic, the Mediterranean coast, and other regions. They Their clients are all very wealthy. Here is a recent transaction that you may be interested in." He hands over a folded piece of paper. "You think it has something to do with this case?" "I'm sure." "I think buying and selling islands should be explicitly prohibited by the country?" "Money is magic." "Anything else you don't want to mention?" "Perhaps within twenty-four hours I can get you some sense of the facts." "what?" "There's a witness. She saw it with her own eyes." "You mean—" "She witnessed a murder." The prosecutor looked at Poirot suspiciously. "Where is the witness now?" "I hope, I believe, that she is on her way to London." "Sounds a little bit—Fantasy." "Really, I tried my best to take protective measures, but I must admit, I was still worried, yes, I was still afraid that things might go wrong, even though I took protective measures, because, you all know, we are- How to describe it Well?—our opponent is dissolute, reflexive, and greedy beyond control. Maybe—I'm not sure, but I think it's possible—may I say he's just gone mad? It is not born like this, but a bad habit that is slowly developed. Once the seeds of evil are sown, they will take root and grow vigorously. At this moment, he may have completely controlled him, making him treat life with an inhuman attitude , annihilated humanity." "We've got to hear other opinions," the prosecutor said. "We can't do it lightly. Of course, a lot depends on — hey — the falsification of documents, and if that's the case, we'll have to reconsider." Hercule Poirot stood up. "I'm leaving. I've told you what I know, what I'm worried about, and what I expect. I'll keep in touch with you." He shook hands with everyone, and went out the door. "He's a bit of a charlatan," said the prosecutor. "He didn't hit the nail on the head at all, don't you think? He thinks he's big, but he's not young, and I don't know whether to trust someone of that age." old." "I think I can rely on him," said the Constable. "At least that's the impression he made on me. Spence, we've known each other for many years, and you're his friend, and you think he's out of his wits?" Isn't there a problem?" "No, I don't think so," replied Superintendent Spence. "What do you think, Raglan?" "I've only recently met him, sir, and at first I thought his—well, what he said, his ideas were a little grotesque, but on the whole I was persuaded by him, and I thought it would turn out He was right."