Chapter 27 Chapter 27 Jack Reynor's Narrative

"Congratulations, Jack Raynor," said Poirot, clasping the young man's hand warmly. Once released, young Renault came to see us before he could go to Melanville to see Marta and his mother.Stoner came with him.The secretary's robust physique contrasted sharply with the youth's haggard features. Apparently, his nerves were on the verge of collapse.He smiled sadly at Poirot and said in a low voice: "I went through all this to protect her, but there's nothing I can do now." "You don't expect the girl to make you pay with your life," Stoner said coldly. "When she sees you rushing towards the guillotine, she will definitely come forward and surrender."

"Eh ma foi①, you are really rushing to the guillotine." Poirot made ①French: To tell the truth. ——Annotation. After a sentence, he blinked slightly. "If you go on like this, you will piss Mr. Grossier to death, and your conscience will be guilty for a lifetime." "He's a fool, well-intentioned, I suppose," said Jack, "but he's worried about me. You see, I can't tell him what's on my mind. But, God! what about Bella?" ?” "If I were in your position," said Poirot frankly, "I wouldn't bother anyone. The French courts are always lenient with young, pretty girls, with the crime Passionel. A clever lawyer will try to do it." It's not going to be a pleasant thing for you. . . ”

"I don't care. You see, M. Poirot, I do feel, in a certain sense, guilty of my father's murder. If it hadn't been for me, for my quarrel with this girl, he'd be alive and well today." Yes. Besides, damn me, I'd be so careless to take the wrong coat. I always felt responsible for his death. I'll never forget it as long as I live:" "Don't do that." I said reassuringly. "Of course, the thought of Bella killing my father gives me chills." Jack went on, "But I've been so mean to her. When I meet Marta and realize I've done a wrong thing, I should write her honestly and tell her the truth. But I'm afraid There was a quarrel, and it got to Marta's ears, and she thought it was more than that, and it turned out... well, what a coward I was, and kept hoping things would work themselves out. I just let it go. It was me Driven the poor child unknowingly. If she stabbed me to death, as she intended, I deserved it. Now ①French: A crime driven by lust.

It must have had a lot of courage for her to surrender herself.You know, I'm willing to live with the consequences... until the end. " He was silent for a minute or two, then suddenly switched to another subject: "What puzzles me is why Dad was running around in his underwear and my overcoat that night. I figured he slipped away when the two gringos weren't looking, and my mother must have made a mistake. Say it was two o'clock when these two fellas came. Isn't that totally false? I mean, my mother wouldn't think...couldn't think...it was me?" Poirot hastened to assure him:

"No, no, Mr. Jack. You needn't worry about that. As for the rest, I'll explain to you another day. The situation is a bit strange. But what happened on that unfortunate night, you will tell us again." Tell me?" "There is nothing more to say. As I told you, I came from Cherbourg in order to see Marta before I set off for the ends of the earth. The train was delayed, so I decided to take a short cut across the golf course. From There I will soon be able to walk to the grounds of Villa Margaret. When I almost get there..." He paused and swallowed. "how?"

"I heard a terrible cry. It wasn't too loud... It was like a whimper, a gasp, but it made my heart jump. I stood still, as if nailed to the ground. Then I went around A corner of the bush. There was moonlight that night, and I saw the grave, a human figure, lying face down, with its chin thrust into its back. Just then... I looked up and saw her. She looked It seemed to me as if I saw a ghost—she must have thought I was a ghost at first—and her face froze with terror, and there was no expression. Then she uttered a cry, and turned and ran away." He stopped, trying to control his emotions.

"And then?" asked Poirot softly. "I really don't know. I was there for a while, in a dazed state. Then I thought I'd better get away as soon as possible. It never occurred to me that they would suspect me, but my uncle wanted me to go to court to prove her Guilty. As I told you, I walked to Saint-Beauvais, and there hired a car to return to Cherbourg." There was a knock at the door, and a servant boy came in with a telegram and handed it to Stoner.He tore open the telegram and got up from his seat. "Madame Renaud has regained consciousness," he said.

"Ah!" Poirot jumped up. "We will go to Melanville together at once!" So we set off in a hurry.At Jack's request, Stoner agrees to stay and rescue Bella Duveen as much as possible.Poirot, Jack Reynolds and I set off in the Reynolds' car. The car drove for more than forty minutes.Jack Raynor cast a questioning glance at Poirot as we approached the gates of Villa Margaret. "How about you go first... tell my mother that I'm released..." "In the meantime, you will tell Mademoiselle Marta the news yourself, won't you?" Poirot finished the sentence for him with a wink, "well, that's it, I myself was going to suggest such an arrangement. "

Jack Raynor didn't wait any longer. He stopped the car, jumped out, and walked down the lane to the front door.We continue to drive to Villa Geneviève. "Poirot," I said, "do you remember the first day we arrived? And what happened when we heard about M. Reynaud's murder?" "Oh, I do, I do. It wasn't long ago. But how much has happened since then—especially you, Monami." "Indeed, yes." I sighed. "You're looking at it from a sentimental point of view, Hastings. I don't mean that. We hope Miss Bella will be lenient, and after all, Jack Reynolds can't marry two girls at once: I From a professional point of view. This case is not as well-arranged as ordinary detectives appreciate. George Connor's miseenscene ② is indeed the most ingenious, but the d6nouement ③... ah, that's not the case matter.

A man killed by accident on the whim of a girl—oh, really, what method, arrangement is there?" I couldn't help laughing at Poirot's outlandish remarks when François opened the door. Poirot explained that he wanted to see Madame Renault immediately, and the old maid led him upstairs.After some time, Poirot reappeared, his expression unusually serious. "Vous voila, Hastings. Sacre tonnerre! There's a storm ahead!" "What do you mean?" I yelled. "I would hardly have believed it," said Poirot thoughtfully, "but women are often the unexpected."

①French: my friend. — Annotation. ② French: scene. ——Annotation. ③French: the end. ——Annotation. ④ French: You are here. — Annotation. ⑤ French: Damn. ——Annotation. "Jack and Marta Doble are here." I looked out the window and called. Poirot ran out of the drawing-room and met the young couple on the outside steps. "Don't come in. Better not come in. Your mother's in a bad mood." "I know, I know," said Jack Raynor, "I've got to go upstairs and see her right away." "But, I say, don't do it. Better not go." "But Marta and I..." "Anyway, don't take the lady with you. If you must go upstairs, go upstairs, but you'd better obey me." A voice from upstairs behind us startled us all. "Thank you for your mediation, M. Poirot, but I must make my own wishes clear." We stared in amazement.Madame Renaud was coming down the stairs, leaning on Leonie's arm, her head still bandaged.The French girl wept and urged the mistress to go to bed. "Madame is going to kill herself. The doctor ordered no such thing!" But Madame Reynolds continued downstairs. "Mother," Jack called, rushing forward. But she made a gesture and held him back. "I am not your mother: you are not my son: from this day, from this hour, I disown you." "Mother!" the young man shouted, in a daze. For a moment, the pained emotion in his voice seemed to make her hesitate.Poirot made a gesture of conciliation, but she regained her composure at once. "You have your father's blood on your head. You are morally guilty of his death. You disobeyed your father for this girl.You were so cruel to another girl that you killed your father.Get me out of the house.Tomorrow I will take action, so that you will not touch a piece of your old man.Let this girl, the daughter of your father's worst enemy, help you to live in comfort!" Then she went upstairs slowly and painfully. This scene was something we hadn't expected at all, and everyone couldn't help being surprised.Jack, who had been exhausted through all this, was staggering and nearly falling.Poirot and I hurried to help him. "He can't stand it," murmured Poirot to Marta. "Where are we taking him?" "Go home! To Margaret's: Mother and I will nurse him. My poor Jack!" We took Jack to the villa, where he had slumped limply on a chair, half unconscious.Poirot stroked his forehead and hands. "He's feverish. A long period of extreme tension has begun. Add this unexpected shock. Put him to bed, and Hastings and I will fetch the doctor." After a while, the doctor came.He examined the patient and said that, in his opinion, it was only nervousness.Rest well, keep quiet, and tomorrow will be almost fine; but if it is stimulated again, it may become encephalitis.It would be best if someone kept watch over him all night. Afterwards, having settled him as best we could, in the care of Marta and her mother, we set off for the town of Melanwe.It was past the usual meal time, and both of them were panicking with hunger.We came to the first restaurant, where the omelette ① was delicious and relieved our hunger a little, followed by an entrecote ②, which was not bad. "Now return to the lodgings for the night," said Poirot, as we had finished our last course of black coffee. "Would you like to try the old local Bay's Hotel?" We walked towards the hotel without saying much. "Well, the gentlemen can be accommodated in two comfortable rooms facing the sea." Then Poirot asked a question which surprised me: "There is an English lady, is Miss Robinson here?" "There, sir. She's in the little parlour." "what!" "Poirot," he asked, as I caught up with him, passing along the passage, "who is this Miss Robinson?" Poirot said to me kindly and beamingly: "Hastings, there is a marriage arranged for you." "But I said..." "Pooh!" said Poirot, putting me over the threshold affectionately. "Do you want me to blow Duveen's name into the sky at Melanville?" It was Cinderella who got up to meet us.I took her hands, and my eyes did the rest. Poirot cleared his throat. ①French: oyster. ——Annotation. ②French: Beef. ——Annotation. "Mes enfants 1," he said, "we don't have time for emotions just yet, we have work to do. Miss, have you done everything I asked you to do?" In answer Cinderella took from her handbag something wrapped in paper and handed it to Poirot without a word.Poirot removed the wrapping paper, and I was taken aback.This is the dagger made of the metal sheet of the plane. According to my original understanding, this knife has been thrown into the sea by her.It's incredible how women just don't want to destroy the most damaging objects and documents! "Tres bien, mon enfant," said Poirot, "I am very pleased with you, go and rest now. Hastings and I have business to do. You will see him to-morrow." "Where are you going?" Cinderella asked with wide eyes. "I'll tell you tomorrow." "Wherever you go, I will go too." "But, miss..." "I told you, I'll go too." Knowing that it was useless to argue with her, Poirot gave in. "Come on, miss. It's not fun. Maybe it might be all right." The girl didn't answer. Twenty minutes later, we were off.It was dark and muggy.Leading the way, Poirot left the town of Meranville and walked towards Villa Geneviève.But he stopped when he reached Villa Magreux. ①French: My children (plural). ——Annotation. ②French: Great, my child (singular). ——Annotation. "I wanted to see if Jack Reynolds was all right so I could reassure myself. Come with me, Hastings.Miss, just stay outside for a while.Mrs. Dobler might say something to make her uncomfortable. " We opened the door day and took the trail.As we rounded the side of the house, I called Poirot's attention to a window on the second floor.The silhouette of Marta Dobler was clearly reflected on the curtain. "Ah!" said Poirot. "I suppose Jack Raynor is in this room." Mrs. Dobler opened the door and let us in.She said Jack was still the same.But maybe we'd like to see it for ourselves.She led us upstairs and into the bedroom.At a lighted table, Marta Dobler sat sewing. As we entered, she pressed her finger to her lips to signal us to be silent. Although Jack Reynolds was asleep, he woke up from time to time, with his head turned sideways and his cheeks still red, which seemed abnormal. "Is the doctor still here?" asked Poirot softly. "We asked him to come. It's a good thing he fell asleep. Mother made him a bowl of soup." As we left the room, she picked up her embroidery needle and thread again.Mrs. Dobler accompanied us downstairs.Knowing her past history, I examined this woman with interest.She stood there, eyes lowered, a faint, elusive smile on the corners of her mouth.Suddenly, I felt very scared, as if I saw a beautiful poisonous snake. "I hope we are not disturbing you, Madame," said Poirot politely, as she opened the door to let us out. "Nothing, sir." "By the way," said Poirot.As if suddenly remembered after the event. "Mr. Stoner has not been to Melanville today, has he?" I could not make out the meaning of the question, which I thought was unconscious as far as Poirot was concerned. Mrs. Dobler replied very calmly: "I can't say that." "Has he not spoken to Madame Renaud?" "How should I know, sir?" "That is," said Poirot. "I thought you might have seen him come and go. Nothing. Good night, Madame." "Why..." I just said. "Don't ask why, Hastings, there will be plenty of time later." We joined Cinderella and walked quickly to Villa Geneviève.Poirot turned his head and glanced at the lighted window and at the silhouette of Marta bending her head as she made money. "At last he is guarded." He murmured. At the Villa Genevieve, Poirot stood behind the bushes on the left side of the drive, where we had a good view of what was going on without being seen.The whole villa was in total darkness, and no doubt everyone had gone to bed. We were almost standing directly under the window of Madame Renaud's bedroom, which I noticed was open.It seemed to me that Poirot's eyes were fixed on this spot. "What are we going to do?" I whispered. "Watch." "But……" "I expect nothing for an hour, maybe two, but..." His words were interrupted by a long, faint cry. "Help!" A light came on in a room on the second floor to the right of the front door.The shout is from there.While we were guarding, the shadows of two people struggling appeared on the curtain. "Mille tonnerres!" cried Poirot. "She must have changed rooms." He rushed forward, knocking frantically on the front door.Then he rushed to the tree in the flower bed and climbed up the tree as nimbly as a cat.I follow him.As soon as he was free, he jumped in through the open window.I looked back and saw Dulce had climbed onto a branch behind me. "Be careful!" I exclaimed. "Watch out for your old grandmother!" retorted the girl, "it's just a child's game to me." Poirot had rushed to the far end of the empty room, banging on the door. "It's barred and locked outside," he growled. "It's going to take time to knock the door open." The cries for help were evidently getting weaker and weaker.I saw the despair in Poirot's eyes.We both banged our shoulders on the door together. From the window came Cinderella's voice, calm and unmoved: "You're too late. I guess I'm the only one who can do something." I didn't have time to reach out to stop her, she seemed to jump from the window to ①French: Damn it. ——Annotation. air.I rushed over and looked out the window, feeling horrified.I saw her hanging from the eaves with both hands, moving her body longitudinally towards the room with lights. "Jesus: she's going to fall to her death," I yelled. "You forget, she's a professional acrobat, Hastings. It's the providence of a good God that she must come with us tonight. I hope she makes it in time." "what!" As the girl disappeared through the window, a cry of utter horror hung over the night.Then came Cinderella's clear voice: "No, you can't. I've got you—my wrist's made of steel." At that moment, François opened the door of our prison cautiously.Poirot pushed her aside in spite of politeness, and rushed to a door at the far end of the passage, where some other maids were gathered. "Sir, the door is locked from the inside." There was the sound of something falling heavily inside.After a minute or two the key was turned and the door opened slowly.Cinderella paled and beckoned us in. "Is she all right?" asked Poirot. "It's all right. I just got there. She's out of strength." Madame Reynolds leaned on the bed, half sitting and half lying down, gasping for breath. "Nearly strangled me," she whispered bitterly. The girl picked up something from the floor and handed it to Poirot.It was a ladder made of woven silk rope, very delicate but very strong. "While we were knocking desperately, she was going to slip out of the window. Where is the other...?" said Poirot. The girl moved slightly to one side and pointed with her finger.A figure lay horizontally on the ground, wrapped in black material, with a corner of the folds covering its face. "Dead?" She nodded. "Dead, I think. The head must have hit the marble fender." "But who is that?" I cried. "Renault's murderer, Hastings. Also the attempted murderer of Mrs. Reynolds." Puzzled, I bent my knees and lifted up the corner of my dress, and what I saw was Marta Dobler's beautiful, lifeless face.