Chapter 17 Chapter 17 Parker

Parker I realized the next morning that I'd been dazzled by the weather and had said something I shouldn't have said.Of course Poirot did not tell me to keep the matter of the gold ring a secret.He never mentioned the ring at Fernley, and as far as I knew I was the only one besides Poirot who knew of its discovery.Now the story spread like a prairie fire in King Abbot village.I felt a sense of guilt in my heart, waiting for Poirot's severe reprimand at any time. The funeral of Mrs Ferrars and Mr Roger Ackroyd was to be at eleven o'clock, and it was a sad service.Everyone in the Fernd compound was present.

Poirot was also present at the funeral.As soon as the funeral was over he took my arm and invited me to accompany him back to Larshe.He looked very serious, and I was afraid that what I accidentally said last night would reach his ears.But I soon discovered that he had something else on his mind. "Well," he said, "we must act at once. I want to consider the witness, and I hope you will assist me. We will question him, scare him if necessary, and the matter will be cleared up." "Which one do you mean?" Witness?" I asked in surprise. "It's Parker!" said Poirot. "I asked him to come to my house at twelve noon. He must be waiting for me now." "What do you think of him?" I asked boldly, squinting at him. .

"One thing is clear to me—I'm not satisfied." "You think he blackmailed Mrs. Ferrars?" "Either blackmailed or—" "Just what?" I wanted to wait for him to finish. "My friend, what I want to tell you is—I hope it's him." His manner was very serious, with an indescribable expression on his face.Seeing him like this, I dare not ask any more questions. As soon as we got to Larshe it was reported that Parker was waiting for us.When we entered the house, the butler rose to greet us respectfully. "Good morning, Parker," said Poirot cheerfully, "just a moment, please." He took off his trench coat and gloves.

"Let me take it off for you, sir," Parker said, stepping forward to help him take off his trench coat.He put the trench coat neatly on a chair near the door, and Poirot looked at him approvingly. "Thank you, good Parker," he said, "please sit down, I have a long speech." Parker bowed his thanks, and sat down respectfully. "Do you know why I called you here today?" Parker coughed dryly. "Monsieur, I understand that you wish to ask something about my late master—about his private affairs." "That's right," said Poirot with a smile on his face. "Have you ever been blackmailed?" Sir!" The butler jumped up from his chair.

"Don't get too excited," said Poirot calmly, "don't pretend to be honest, as if I wronged you. You're very good at blackmail, aren't you?" "Monsieur, I—I've never—never —" "No such insult," Poirot continued, "then why, after you heard the word blackmail that night, were you so anxious to overhear the conversation in Ackroyd's study?" "I was not— I—" "Who was your previous master?" asked Poirot suddenly. "My last master?" "Yes, the one before you came to Mr. Ackroyd's." "It was Major Ellerby, sir—" Poirot continued.

"That's him, Major Ellerby. Major Ellerby is addicted to drugs, isn't he? You travel with him. He's had a little trouble in Bermuda—a man was killed and Major Ellerby was mostly responsible. This matter has been covered up, but you are an insider, how much did Major Ellerby pay you to shut you up?" Parker stared at him dumbfounded, with a bewildered look on his face. His muscles trembled slightly. "You understand that I have made a great deal of research," said Poirot cheerfully. "As I said, you have blackmailed a large sum of money which Major Ellerby paid you until his death. Now I want to hear about your latest blackmail." Parker still stared at him intently.

"It's futile to deny. Hercule Poirot knows everything. Was I right in what I just said about Major Ellerby?" Although Parker did not want to admit it, he nodded, which was obviously a mistake. Had no choice.His face was as pale as dust. "But Mr. Ackroyd, I never touched a hair," he groaned. "I never touched him, by God. Head. I can tell you I didn't—didn't kill him." He was speaking more and more, almost hysterically. "I can trust you, my friend," said Poirot, "you have no guts—no courage. But you will tell the truth." "I will tell you all, sir, all you want to know. I thought that night Overhearing, it is true. I overheard a sentence or two which piqued my curiosity. Mr. Ackroyd shut himself up in his study with the doctor, and did not wish to be disturbed. What I said to the policeman was Honestly, for God's sake. I heard the word blackmail, sir, and—" He stopped.

"You think it might concern you, don't you?" said Poirot very calmly. "Well—yes, that's what I thought, sir. I thought if Mr. Ackroyd was being blackmailed, why couldn't I share a little of it?" A curious look flickered across Poirot's face, He leaned forward. "Did it ever occur to you before that that Mr. Ackroyd was being blackmailed?" "No, sir. It shocked me very much. He was a very respectable gentleman." "How much did you overhear?" Talk?" "Not much, sir. I think it's a mean thing to do. Of course I have to go back to the pantry to do my errands. I'll just have to go to the study some time and listen. How much does that sound like?" The first time, Dr. Shepard was almost seen by him when he came out; Miss Flora stopped him." Poirot kept gazing into his face, as if examining his honesty.Parker also stared at him sincerely.

"I hope you will believe me, sir. I have always feared that the police would bring up the blackmail of Major Ellerby and suspect me." "Well," said Poirot at last, "I can take your word for it." Those words, but I have one request—show me your passbook. I suppose you have one." "Yes, sir, I actually have the passbook with me now." Without hesitation he went from Take out the passbook from your pocket.Poirot took the slim green-covered booklet and examined each deposit carefully. "Ah! You bought £500 National Savings Certificates this year?" "Yes, sir, I've saved over a thousand pounds--given to me by the late Master Ellerby. Good luck, and another good fortune. I tell you, sir, an unknown contestant won the Jubilee. I was lucky enough to buy his ticket--twenty quid. ’ Poirot returned the note to him.

"I hope you have a good morning. I am sure you are telling the truth. If you are lying, you will be worse off, my friend." After Parker left, Poirot took another Picked up the windbreaker. "Going out again?" I asked. "Yes, let's go and pay a visit to good Mr. Hammond." "You believe Parker's words?" "You can see from the expression on his face that his words are trustworthy. Obviously—unless he is A fine actor—he thought it was Ackroyd who was blackmailed. If so, he doesn't know anything about Mrs. Ferrars." "Who else?" "Good question! Who is that? We shall answer that question when we visit Mr. Hammond, either to prove that Parker is innocent, or—" "How to prove that?" To finish," said Poirot very apologetically, "forgive me." "By the way," I said awkwardly, "I must confess to you that I have neglected to mention the ring. " "What ring?" "The ring you found in the goldfish pond." "Ah! yes." Poirot laughed.

"I hope you will not be angry. I slipped it out by accident." "No, my friend, I will not. I gave you no orders, and you may say what you want to say. Your sister must be very interested, right?" "Yes, she is indeed very interested. As soon as I said it, everyone talked about it, and everyone put forward their own opinions." "Ah! But this kind of It's not complicated, the real explanation lies in the eyes, don't you think?" "Really?" I said blankly. Poirot laughed. "A smart man never takes a stand," he said. "Aren't you right? Oh, the Hammonds' are here." The lawyer was in his office, and we were ushered in without a minute's delay.He got up and greeted us with a deadpan expression of politeness. Poirot said straight to the point: "Sir, I would like to ask you about the situation, and let me know if you like. I know you were Mrs Ferrars' solicitor, Kim Paddock, were you not?" The solicitor's eyes There was a moment of panic in there, and I noticed it right away.But as he was in that particular profession, he immediately recovered his composure and assumed seriousness again. "Of course, we take care of all her affairs." "Very well. Well, before I ask you questions, let Mr. Retell the conversation between you and Mr. Ackroyd at night, you will not object to this request, will you?" "It is absolutely possible." Then I began to recite the strange things that happened that night. Hammond listened very intently. "That's all." I finished repeating. "Extortion," said the lawyer thoughtfully. "You are surprised?" asked Poirot. The lawyer took off his spectacles and wiped them with a handkerchief. "No," he replied, "I am not surprised. I have been suspecting the matter all this time." "In that case, I would like to ask you something," said Poirot. "Only you can ask us." Give the amount of money extorted." "I have no need to hide this fact from you," said Hammond after a pause, "Mrs. Ferrars has sold certain bonds during the past year, The money from the sale of the bonds went into her expense account and was not reinvested. Her income was considerable, and she had lived a quiet life after her husband died. It seems that the money was used to pay certain I mentioned it to her once, and she said she had to support her husband's poor relatives. Of course, I can't ask this again. I still think that these money must be paid to someone Mr. Ashley Ferrars has a woman involved. But I never imagined that Mrs. Ferrars herself was involved." "How much?" asked Poirot. "Add up all the sums to at least twenty thousand pounds." "Twenty thousand pounds!" I exclaimed, "just one year!" "Mrs. Ferrars is a very rich woman," said Poirot Said bluntly, "The cost of murder is high enough." "What more do you want?" asked Mr. Hammond. "Thank you, no," said Poirot, standing up. "Excuse me for the interruption." "Never mind, never mind." When we went outside, I said, "Just now you said derange when you said excuse me." ) is a word, which is usually used only to denote insanity." "Ah!" exclaimed Poirot, "my English will never be idiomatic, and English is a strange language. Then I should have Say disarranged, nest-ce pas (French: yes)?" "Disturbed (English: disturb) is the word you should use." "Thanks, my friend, I see that you are particular about the use of words. Well, Now what do you think of our friend Parker. With twenty thousand pounds in his pocket, do you think he will continue to be a butler? Je ne pense pas (French: I don't think so). Of course he might Banked money in someone else's name, but I still believe he's telling the truth. If he's a villain, he's a very mean villain. He has no ambitions. The remaining possibilities are Raymond or —Major Brent." "Certainly it can't be Raymond," I objected, "and we all know he's running around like hell for five hundred pounds." "Yes, that's what he said." " As for Hector Blunt—" "As for the good Major Blunt, I can reveal something to you," interrupted Poirot. "Investigations are my business, and I have been conducting them. He What do you think of the inheritance mentioned, which I found to be nearly twenty thousand pounds?" I was almost speechless with horror. "It's impossible," I said at last, "that a man as famous as Hector Blunt would have done it." Poirot shrugged his shoulders. "Who can tell? At least he's a man of great ambition. I admit it's hard for me to see that he's a blackmailer, but there's another possibility you haven't considered." "What possibility?" "Fire, It is possible, my friend, that Ackroyd himself destroyed the letter--the blue envelope and the letter inside--after you were gone." "I think that is unlikely," I said very slowly, "but-- —Of course, it is possible. He may have changed his mind." We had reached my door insensibly, when, on a sudden impulse, I invited Poirot to a light meal. I thought Caroline would be pleased with what I did, but it is not easy to please a woman.We had ribs for lunch this day - along with tripe and onions.It is indeed a bit embarrassing to have two ribs in front of three people. But Caroline never let this embarrassment last long.She concocted a jaw-dropping lie, explaining to Poirot that she was a vegetarian despite James' frequent teasing of her.She danced about the deliciousness of nut chowder (I'm sure she had never tasted it), ate toast with cheese with relish, and said in her mouth: "Eating meat is harmful." Yes." After dinner, as we sat smoking in front of the fire, Caroline made a pointless attack on Poirot. "Have you found Ralph Paton yet?" she asked. "Where am I going to find her, miss?" "I thought you found him at Cranchester." From the tone of Caroline's voice, it was clear that there was something in her words. Poirot was bewildered. "In Cranchester? Why did you find him in Cranchester?" I gave him a hint, but in a slightly sarcastic tone. "One of our large team of private detectives happened to see you in your car yesterday on the Cranchester road," I explained. It dawned on Poirot, and he burst out laughing. "Ah, that's it! I just went there to see the dentist, C'est tout (French: that's it). My tooth hurts, I went there for a run, and the tooth is much better. I want to be right back , but the dentist said no. He asked me to pull the tooth out, which I disagreed with, but he insisted, and he was so stubborn! That tooth would never hurt again.” Caroline was like It was a deflated balloon that suddenly collapsed. Then we talked about Ralph Paton. "He is a fragile man of character," I insisted, "but by no means an evil man." "Ah!" said Poirot, "how fragile is he then?" Same--totally fragile, and this kind of person can't do without care." "Dear Caroline," I said angrily, "please don't make personal attacks when you speak." "You are indeed fragile, James," said Carol. Lin said without flinching, "I'm eight years older than you—oh! I don't care that M. Poirot knows my age." "I've never guessed your age correctly, miss." bowed to her. "Eight years older than you, so I always regard it as my bounden duty to take care of you. If you hadn't been well-educated since childhood, God knows what you will become now." "I could have talked to a beautiful female explorer Married." I whispered, eyes on the ceiling, smoke rings out of my mouth. "Female explorer!" Caroline snorted. "If you want to talk about female explorer—" She stopped in the middle of speaking. "Let's go on." I said curiously. "No more. But usually I can think of people within a hundred miles." She turned suddenly to Poirot. "James insists that you believe that someone in the family committed the crime. I can say with certainty that you are mistaken." "I don't like to be mistaken, because this is my netier (French: occupation)." "According to I have seen the matter quite clearly from what I have heard from James and others." Caroline did not pay attention to what Poirot was saying, and she just kept going, "Just Of all the people in the family that I know of, only two have had the chance to kill, Ralph Paton and Flora Aykroyd." "Dear Caroline—" "Hey, James, please don't hit me. Cut me off. I know exactly what I'm talking about. Parker met her outside the door, didn't he? He didn't hear her uncle say good night to her, and she probably killed her before she came out." Rowling!" "I didn't say she did it, James, I just said she might. But the fact is that Flora, like all girls these days, has no respect for their superiors and always thinks she Knows everything in the world, and I bet she wouldn't kill a chicken. But here's the thing. Mr. Raymond and Major Brent have alibi. Mrs. Ackroyd has witnesses, even Russell. Well, the woman seems to have a witness too—fortunate for her. So who's left? Only Ralph and Flora! Whatever you say, I don't believe Ralph Paton is A murderer. We have watched him grow up, and I know him well." Poirot said nothing, watching the smoke ring rising from his own mouth.At last he spoke, speaking in a mild, but somewhat absent-minded way, which gave a strange impression.This is completely different from his usual attitude. "Let's take a man—an ordinary man who would not think of murdering. There is something evil about him—deep in his heart, which has not yet shown itself, and probably never will in his lifetime. Come out—if that was the case, he would have lived his life with dignity, revered by all. But let’s say something happened and he got stuck—or something. He stumbled across some secret —this secret is a matter of life and death for someone. His first instinct is to tell it—due to the duty of an honest citizen. Then his evil intentions start to show, and it is a good opportunity to make a fortune— —a lot of money. He needed money—he longed for it—money at his fingertips. He had nothing to do but keep silent. It was only the beginning, and then the desire for money grew stronger. He Must get more money—more and more money! Drunken by the gold mines he had developed beneath his feet, he grew more and more greedy, overwhelmed by greed. You can blackmail a man all you want— But for a woman, you can't push too hard, because women have a strong desire to tell the truth in their hearts. How many husbands have deceived their wives all their lives, and finally passed away safely with secrets! How many wives who deceived their husbands in the Ruining their lives by telling the truth in an argument with their husbands! They are pushed too hard, and in critical moments, (Bien entendu (French: of course). They regret it later), they disregard Anker and end up in a Desperate situation, revealing the facts for the sake of great temporary satisfaction. The example I gave is similar to this case—being forced too hard. We can use an idiom to describe it: the dog jumps over the wall. The matter is not over yet, what we said The man is in danger of the truth being revealed. He is not who he used to be—say, a year ago. His morality is gone. He is struggling in despair, fighting a doomed battle. A losing battle. He is ready to use any means at any time, because the truth will mean the destruction of a life. That's it - all stabbed out!" He paused for a moment.These words seemed to cast a spell on the room, and there was a moment of silence.I cannot describe the impression these words made.This relentless analysis, this hard truth, made the hairs of both of us shudder. "Afterwards," he said gently, "the sword was drawn, and he was himself again—normal, kind. But he would kill again if necessary." Caroline suddenly came to herself. "You're talking about Ralph Paton," he said. "Whether you're right or wrong, you have no right to speak ill of someone behind their back." The phone rang, and I went into the hall and picked up the receiver. "Hello," I said, "yes, this is Dr. Shepard." I listened for a minute or two, and then answered briefly.After the phone call, I went back to the living room. "Poirot," I said, "they have detained a man in Liverpool called Charles Kent, whom they believe to be the stranger who went to Fernley Court that night, and they told me to go to Liverpool at once to identify him."