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- Убийство в Восточном экспрессе
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"
The
keys
?
"
he
said
.
"
It
is
not
locked
,
Monsieur
.
"
Poirot
undid
the
hasps
and
lifted
the
lid
.
"
Aha
!
"
he
said
,
and
turning
to
M.
Bouc
,
"
You
remember
what
I
said
?
Look
here
a
little
moment
!
"
On
the
top
of
the
suitcase
was
a
hastily
rolled
up
brown
Wagon
Lit
uniform
.
The
stolidity
of
the
German
woman
underwent
a
sudden
change
.
"
Ach
!
"
she
cried
.
"
That
is
not
mine
.
I
did
not
put
it
there
.
I
have
never
looked
in
that
case
since
we
left
Stamboul
.
Indeed
,
indeed
,
it
is
true
.
"
She
looked
from
one
to
another
pleadingly
.
Poirot
took
her
gently
by
the
arm
and
soothed
her
.
"
No
,
no
all
is
well
.
We
believe
you
.
Do
not
be
agitated
.
I
am
as
sure
you
did
not
hide
the
uniform
there
as
I
am
sure
that
you
are
a
good
cook
.
See
.
You
are
a
good
cook
,
are
you
not
?
"
