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- Агата Кристи
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- Стр. 211/214
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Eagerly
Poirot
plunged
in
his
hand
.
Suddenly
his
face
fell
from
complacent
elation
to
consternation
.
All
he
held
was
a
charred
fragment
of
stiff
paper
.
But
for
it
,
the
cavity
was
empty
.
“
Sacré
!
”
cried
Poirot
angrily
.
“
Some
one
has
been
before
us
.
”
We
examined
the
scrap
of
paper
anxiously
.
Clearly
it
was
a
fragment
of
what
we
sought
.
A
portion
of
Baker
’
s
signature
remained
,
but
no
indication
of
what
the
terms
of
the
will
had
been
.
Poirot
sat
back
on
his
heels
.
His
expression
would
have
been
comical
if
we
had
not
been
so
overcome
.
“
I
understand
it
not
,
”
he
growled
.
“
Who
destroyed
this
?
And
what
was
their
object
?
”
“
The
Bakers
?
”
I
suggested
.
“
Pourquoi
?
Neither
will
makes
any
provision
for
them
,
and
they
are
more
likely
to
be
kept
on
with
Miss
Marsh
than
if
the
place
became
the
property
of
a
hospital
.
How
could
it
be
to
anyone
’
s
advantage
to
destroy
the
will
?
The
hospitals
benefit
—
yes
;
but
one
cannot
suspect
institutions
.
”
“
Perhaps
the
old
man
changed
his
mind
and
destroyed
it
himself
,
”
I
suggested
.
Poirot
rose
to
his
feet
,
dusting
his
knees
with
his
usual
care
.
