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- Агата Кристи
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I
recognized
in
our
new
visitor
Dr
.
Hawker
’
s
housekeeper
,
Miss
Rider
.
The
doctor
was
a
bachelor
,
and
lived
in
a
gloomy
old
house
a
few
streets
away
.
The
usually
placid
Miss
Rider
was
now
in
a
state
bordering
on
incoherence
.
“
What
terrible
voice
?
Who
is
it
,
and
what
’
s
the
trouble
?
”
“
It
was
the
telephone
,
doctor
.
I
answered
it
—
and
a
voice
spoke
.
‘
Help
,
’
it
said
.
‘
Doctor
—
help
.
They
’
ve
killed
me
!
’
Then
it
sort
of
tailed
away
.
‘
Who
’
s
speaking
?
’
I
said
.
‘
Who
’
s
speaking
?
’
Then
I
got
a
reply
,
just
a
whisper
,
it
seemed
,
‘
Foscatine
’
—
something
like
that
—
‘
Regent
’
s
Court
.
’
”
The
doctor
uttered
an
exclamation
.
“
Count
Foscatini
.
He
has
a
flat
in
Regent
’
s
Court
.
I
must
go
at
once
.
What
can
have
happened
?
”
“
A
patient
of
yours
?
”
asked
Poirot
.
“
I
attended
him
for
some
slight
ailment
a
few
weeks
ago
.
An
Italian
,
but
he
speaks
English
perfectly
.
Well
,
I
must
wish
you
good
night
,
Monsieur
Poirot
,
unless
—
—
”
He
hesitated
.
“
I
perceive
the
thought
in
your
mind
,
”
said
Poirot
,
smiling
.
“
I
shall
be
delighted
to
accompany
you
.
Hastings
,
run
down
and
get
hold
of
a
taxi
.
”
Taxis
always
make
themselves
sought
for
when
one
is
particularly
pressed
for
time
,
but
I
captured
one
at
last
,
and
we
were
soon
bowling
along
in
the
direction
of
Regent
’
s
Park
.
Regent
’
s
Court
was
a
new
block
of
flats
,
situated
just
off
St
.
John
’
s
Wood
Road
.
They
had
only
recently
been
built
,
and
contained
the
latest
service
devices
.
