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Murder at Grey Gables
14 Sep 2001
by Nia Nye
"Close the door, if you please, Inspector Japp. I think we are all - how do you say - present and Bristol fashion, hein?"
The little Belgian paced the parquet floor and turned to face the gathered assembly. "Now, mes enfants, let us recapitulate the facts as we know them. The body of M. Crawford was found floating in the pool here at Grey Gables just after lunch on Thursday last week. The body was discovered by you, Mme. Snell. Is that correct?"
The middle aged woman coloured and shifted nervously in her seat. "Absolutement, M. Poirot," she replied in the nasal approximation to a french accent she adopted when attempting the language "Je lui ai trouve..."
"A thousand pardons, Madame," interrupted the Belgian, bowing politely. "You have the mastery of French most thorough, but it is important that everybody can understand, n'est-ce pas? In English, please, Madame Snell."
Lynda preened herself at his compliment. "Bien sur, M. Poirot," she replied. "I found the..." she paused dramatically, "... body straight after returning from lunch. It - he - was floating face down at the deep end. I called Roy, naturally, who came and brought him out..." her voice tailed off into a sob.
"Calmez-vous, Madame," intoned Poirot, soothingly. He turned to face Roy Tucker, who was sitting rigidly beside his wife, Hayley, his face impassive. "M. Tucker. Where were you when Mme Snell summoned you?"
"I was in the office going through some customer comment forms," replied Roy stiffly. "I ran to the pool and managed to reach him by leaning from the diving board. He was obviously dead. Mrs. Snell helped me get him out of the pool and I sent her to ring for an ambulance while I tried First Aid. He was..."
"Do we have to go through all this?" Brian Aldridge interrupted imperiously. "My daughter here is only 13. Does she have to listen to all the gory detail?"
Alice Aldridge swung her eyes up to the ceiling. "Dad!" she muttered, with the trademark exasperation of the young. "I'm not a child any more!"
Poirot turned to face the two of them. "Perhaps not," he assented. "Perhaps we should start to discuss who amongst you could have killed le pauvre M. Crawford. After all, you all had a motive, and any of you could have done it.
"Only I , Poirot, know which of you it was..."
Part Two>>
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