Chapter 22 Chapter 22 I Found Love

For a minute or two, I just sat there, still holding the photo in one hand.Then I summoned up my courage, kept my composure, and handed back the photo.At the same time I stole a glance at Poirot.Did he notice it? I felt relieved: It seemed he was not paying attention to me, apparently he hadn't noticed any unusual behavior in me. He stood up quickly. "Time is short, and we must start quickly. Everything is going well, and the sea must be calm." In the hasty departure I had no time to think, but once on board, out of Poirot's watchful eye, I roused myself and calmly analyzed the facts one by one.How far did Poirot understand? Why was he so determined to find the girl? Did he suspect Jack? Enmity, there is no motive to put him to death.And what brought her to the scene of the murder? I reviewed the facts carefully.She must have got off the train when I parted from her that day at Calais.No wonder I didn't find her on board.

If she dined at Calais and then drove to Meranville, she would arrive at the Villa Genevieve just as François said.What did she do after she left the Qiu mansion just after ten o'clock? She probably either went to the hotel or went back to Calais.Then, the murder happened on Tuesday night.On Thursday morning she appeared again at Melanville.Did she ever leave France? I doubt it.What made her stay here—wish to see Jack Reynolds? I told her he was sailing across the ocean to Buenos Venlis, because that's what we thought then.Maybe she knew the Anchara hadn't gone to sea.But to know this, she must have seen Jack first.What was Poirot looking for? Could it be that when Jack Reynolds came back to see Marta Dobler, he happened to run into Bella Duveen, the girl he had ruthlessly abandoned, face to face?

I'm starting to see some clues.If that were the case, it would give Jack the alibi he needed.In this case, however, his silence seemed inexplicable.Why wasn't he brave enough to tell all about it? Was he afraid of Marta? Dobler heard about his past romantic entanglements? I shook my head, dissatisfied with the answer.This matter is harmless, it is just a momentary nonsense between young men and women.I wondered from the sidelines, would a penniless French girl abandon a millionaire's son if she had no more serious reasons? Besides, she loved him with all her heart. On reaching Dover Poirot reappeared, relaxed and smiling.Our journey to London was smooth.We arrived in London just after nine o'clock.I thought we'd go straight back to the apartment and wait until the next morning.

But Poirot had other plans. "The time is right, moinam! The news of Jack Raynor's arrest won't hit the English papers until the day after tomorrow, but we must hurry." I don't quite understand his reasoning.Just ask him how he intends to find the girl. "Do you remember Joseph Allen, the theater agent? No: I helped a Japanese wrestler in his little affair. A touching little thing, I'll tell you when I get the chance. He must will help us find what we want to know." It took a lot of time to find Mr. Allen.It was past midnight when we finally found him.He greeted Poirot very cordially, promising to be ready to do his best.

"When it comes to this business, I know everything," he said with a friendly smile. "Eh bien, Mr. Allen, I want to find a young girl named Bella Duveen." "Bella Duveen. I know the name, but it doesn't quite fit right away. What kind of business did she do?" "Then I can't tell, but here's a picture of her." Mr. Allen looked at the photo for a while, his face brightened. "Yeah," he patted his thigh, "for God's sake, it's the Dulcebella doll:" ①French: my friend. ——Annotation ②French: Good wow. - An annotation.

"Dulcibella doll?" "That's right, the sisters, acrobats, dancers, singers. It's not a bad show. If they're not resting, I think they're playing somewhere else. They've been playing in Paris for the last two or three weeks." Pass." "Can you find their exact addresses for me?" "That couldn't be easier. You go back first, and I will send you the information in the morning." After he agreed, we said our goodbyes to him.He kept his word and sent us a cursory note at about an hour the next day. "Sister Dulcebella at the Royal Theater in Coventry. Good luck."

We set off for Coventry at once.At the theatre, Poirot made no inquiries, but reserved only two front seats for that evening's vaudeville. The show was terribly tiresome, perhaps because I was in a bad mood. —the Japanese are dangerously playing arhats, fashionable men in green tuxedos with slicked hair, babbling nonsense incessantly, dancing in grotesque movements, chubby opera singers trying to raise their voices Shout out, a comedian imitating Mr. Georges Robbe, sadly unlearned. The show finally announced the Dulsibella sisters.My heart was beating in and out.Well, that's her, both of them, a pair, one with blond hair and one with black hair, exactly the same dress, in puffy middling English cities.Twenty-seven kilometers south of Birmingham. ——Annotation.

② Famous British comedian. ——Annotation. Short skirts and huge Buster Brown bow ties.They are very like a pair of naughty children.The two sisters began to sing, the singing was crisp and the tune was correct, but it was not full-bodied, and it had the taste of juggling, but it was still quite moving. It's a wonderful little show.The dance moves are neat, some juggling skills are not bad, and the lyrics are crisp and catchy.At the curtain call, the applause was very warm.Apparently the performance of the Dulsibella sisters was a success. Suddenly, I felt that I couldn't stay any longer, I had to go outside.

I told Poirot that I was going away. "Go ahead, monami. I can have fun myself, and I want to finish the show. I'll see you later." It takes only a few steps from the theater to the hotel.I went upstairs into the living room, ordered a whiskey-and-soda, and sat down to drink it, looking thoughtfully straight into the empty fireplace.When I heard the door open, I turned round, thinking it was Poirot.I jumped up immediately, and it was Cinderella standing at the door.She spoke in fits and starts. Out of breath. "I saw you sitting up front, you and your friends. I waited outside when you got up to go, and then followed you. What are you doing here—Coventry?

What are you doing here tonight? The man with you is the . . . detective?" She stood there with the cloak draped over her stage costume slipping off her shoulders.She was rouged, but seeing her pale cheeks and fear in her voice, I understood at that moment, why Poirot sought her; what she was afraid of, and at last my own heart. ... ① Boy's name.Its logo is bangs hairstyle.The neck is tied with a huge bow tie. —Annotation ②French: My friend. ——Annotation. "Yes." I said softly. "Is he looking for... me?" she said barely aloud. I didn't answer right away.She collapsed beside a large chair and burst into tears.

I knelt beside her, took her in my arms, and brushed her hair away from her face. "Don't cry, boy, for God's sake, don't cry. No one's gonna touch you here. I'll protect you. Don't cry, baby, don't cry. I understand, I understand everything .” "Well, but you don't understand!" "I think I understand." After a while, her sobs eased slightly, and I asked, "You took that dagger?" "yes." "So it's for this reason that you want me to take you around to have a look around? It was also because of this that you pretended to faint?" She nodded. "Why did you take the dagger away?" I went on. She answered simply, like a child: "I'm afraid there are fingerprints on it." "But have you forgotten that you are wearing gloves?" She shook her head as if confused, and then asked slowly: "You're going to hand me over to the... police?" "God! No." Her eyes looked long and sincerely into mine, and then she said, in a very low voice, as if she was frightened by what she heard: "why not?" It seemed a bit out of place to express your love at the time and place.God knows, no matter how crazy I was, I never imagined that love would suddenly hit me like this.But I replied simply and naturally: "Because I love you, Cinderella." She bowed her head in a very self-conscious manner, and then whispered brokenly: "You won't...you won't...if you knew..." Then, as if summoning up her courage, she looked me in the face and asked: "So, what do you understand?" "I understand. You came to see Monsieur Reynolds that night, and he gave you a check, which you tore up angrily. Then you left the mansion..." I paused. "Go on... what happened next?" "I don't know if you knew Jack Raynor was coming that night, or if you just happened to see him while you were around, but you were around. Maybe you were just sad and walking aimlessly . . . but anyway You were around there just before twelve o'clock, and then you saw a man on the golf course..." I stopped again.The moment I walked into the room, my heart suddenly lit up, and I felt that everything was understood, and the picture that appeared in front of my eyes was even more convincing.I seem to have seen the particular pattern of the overcoat covering Mr. Renault's body.I still remember how when we were having a secret conversation in the living room, Raynaud's son suddenly came in. His face was exactly like that of the dead. I was so surprised for a moment that I thought it was the resurrection of the dead. "Go on," repeated the girl firmly. "I imagined that he turned his back to you, but you recognized him, or rather you thought you recognized him. You are very familiar with his manner, the way he walks, and the style of that coat." I paused for a while. , "You threatened Jack Reynolds in a letter you wrote to him. When you saw him there, anger, jealousy drove you crazy... You did it: I didn't believe you for a minute Means to kill him, but you did kill him, Cinderella." She raised her hands to cover her face, choked up and said: "You're right...you're right...when you say it now, I seem to have seen it with my own eyes." She then turned to me fiercely: "You love me: since you understand everything, you How can you love me?" "I can't say," I said wearily, "I think that's what love is all about. It's out of control. I've tried and I've understood... since the first day I met you. The power of love is I'd say it's too strong." Then, suddenly, I didn't expect it at all, she collapsed again, threw herself on the ground and burst into tears. "Oh, I can't," she cried, "I don't know what to do. I don't know who to ask for help. Well, some one have pity on me, and tell me what to do!" I knelt beside her again, trying to comfort her as best I could. "Don't fuck me, Bella. For God's sake don't fuck me. I love you, it's true, but I don't want you to return my love. Just let me help you. Love him if you must, but let me help you, because he can't help you. " My words seemed to turn her into a wooden chicken.She lifted her head from her hands and looked directly at me. "Is that what you think?" she whispered. "You think I love Jack Raynor?" So, half-crying, half-smiling, she put her arms around my neck with enthusiasm, and her charming, wet face was pressed against mine. "Not as I love you," she said softly, "Never as I love you!" Her lips kissed my cheek, and kissed my mouth again and again with such affection and passion that I could hardly believe it was real.I will never forget this debauchery, this wonderful feeling--never in my life! There was a sound at the door, and we both looked up involuntarily.Poirot stood looking at us. Without hesitating for a second, I jumped beside him and pressed his arms firmly to his sides. "Quick," I said to the girl, "go. Get away as fast as you can. I'll catch him." She glanced at me and ran out of the room quickly past us.I seized Poirot like a pair of iron pincers. "Monami," said Poirot lukewarmly, "you do a pretty good job of that sort of thing. Hold me so hard that I'm helpless like a child. But it's not a big deal." Comfortable, but also ridiculous. Let's sit down and calm down." "Aren't you going after her?" ①French: my friend. — Annotation. "Mon Dietl! No. Am I Jiro? Let me go, my friend." I let go, still looking at Poirot suspiciously, for I knew he was cunning and I was by no means his match.He sat down in an easy chair and rubbed his arms gently. "Hastings, you're really strong when you're angry: Eh bien, don't you think that's friend enough? I'll show you the picture of the girl, and you recognize her, and you never say a word." "Since you know I recognize her, you don't need to say it." I said bitterly. So Poirot knew all this all along! I couldn't fool him for a minute. "Well, well, you don't know, I know all these things. We managed to find the girl, but you helped her escape to-night. Ehbien! That's the question, Hastings, what are you going to do with Am I cooperating or against me?" For a while I didn't know how to answer.Breaking with old friends would cause me great pain.But I must clearly stand against him. I doubt he'll ever forgive me? So far he's been uncharacteristically composed, but I know he has amazing self-control. "Poirot," I said, "I'm sorry. I admit I'm sorry for you in this matter. But sometimes it can't be helped. From now on, I'll have to do my own thing." Poirot nodded frequently. "I understand," he said.The mocking look had completely disappeared from his eyes ①French: My God. ——Annotation. ②French: Wow. ——Annotation. ③French: Wow. ——Annotation. Yes, I was amazed at the sincerity and kindness with which he spoke. "Is that so, my friend? Love, it's not as happy and sweet as you imagined, but sad and painful. Warm, warm, I warned you a long time ago. When I realized that it must be that The girl took the dagger, and I warned you. Maybe you remember. But it's too late, but tell me, how much do you know:" I looked him straight in the eye. "No matter what you say, it won't surprise me any more, Poirot. You understand that. But if you want to look for Miss Duveen again, there is one thing I have to tell you. If you think that the crime is related to She was involved, or thought she was the mysterious lady who came to see Mr. Reynolds that night, then you are wrong. I left France with her on the train that day, and I parted from her at Victoria Station that night, so it was very difficult. It is clear that it is impossible for her to be in Melanville." "Ah!" Poirot looked at me thoughtfully. "Would you like to swear in court?" "certainly." Poirot rose to his feet and saluted me. "Monami! Vivel'amour! Love works miracles. You are so clever in thinking that even Hercule Poirot would be astonished!" ① French: My friend! Long live love. ——Annotation.