THE PARLORMAID
"But was it a trivial matter?"
"Of course," I admitted, "we don't know what those papers may have been. But Raymond certainly said———"
"Leave M. Raymond out of it for a minute. What did you think of that girl?"
"Which girl? The parlormaid?"
"Yes, the parlormaid. Ursula Bourne."
"She seemed a nice girl," I said hesitatingly.
Poirot repeated my words, but whereas I had laid a slight stress on the fourth word, he put it on the second.
"She seemed a nice girl—yes."
Then, after a minute's silence, he took something from his pocket and handed it to me.
"See, my friend, I will show you something. Look there."
The paper he had handed me was that compiled by the inspector and given by him to Poirot that morning. Following the pointing finger, I saw a small cross marked in pencil opposite the name Ursula Bourne.
"You may not have noticed it at the time, my good friend, but there was one person on this list whose alibi had no kind of confirmation. Ursula Bourne."
"You don't think———"
"Dr. Sheppard, I dare to think anything. Ursula Bourne may have killed Mr. Ackroyd, but I confess I can see no motive for her doing so. Can you?"
He looked at me very hard—so hard that I felt uncomfortable.
"Can you?" he repeated.
[133]
