Free Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie Page A

Monsieur—I remember—I told you. It was the American lady. She had rung several times.”
    â€œI recollect,” said Poirot. “And after that?”
    â€œAfter that, Monsieur? I answered your bell and brought you some mineral water. Then, about half an hour later, I made up thebed in one of the other compartments—that of the young American gentleman, M. Ratchett’s secretary.”
    â€œWas M. MacQueen alone in his compartment when you went to make up his bed?”
    â€œThe English Colonel from No. 15 was with him. They had been sitting talking.”
    â€œWhat did the Colonel do when he left M. MacQueen?”
    â€œHe went back to his own compartment.”
    â€œNo. 15—that is quite close to your seat, is it not?”
    â€œYes, Monsieur, it is the second compartment from that end of the corridor.”
    â€œHis bed was already made up?”
    â€œYes, Monsieur. I had made it up while he was at dinner.”
    â€œWhat time was all this?”
    â€œI could not say exactly, Monsieur. Not later than two o’clock, certainly.”
    â€œAnd after that?”
    â€œAfter that, Monsieur, I sat in my seat till morning.”
    â€œYou did not go again into the Athens coach?”
    â€œNo, Monsieur.”
    â€œPerhaps you slept?”
    â€œI do not think so, Monsieur. The train being at a standstill prevented me from dozing off as I usually do.”
    â€œDid you see any of the passengers moving up or down the corridor?”
    The man reflected.
    â€œOne of the ladies went to the toilet at the far end, I think.”
    â€œWhich lady?”
    â€œI do not know, Monsieur. It was far down the corridor, and she had her back to me. She had on a kimono of scarlet with dragons on it.”
    Poirot nodded.
    â€œAnd after that?”
    â€œNothing, Monsieur, until the morning.”
    â€œYou are sure?”
    â€œAh, pardon, you yourself, Monsieur, opened your door and looked out for a second.”
    â€œGood, my friend,” said Poirot. “I wondered whether you would remember that. By the way, I was awakened by what sounded like something heavy falling against my door. Have you any idea what that could have been?”
    The man stared at him.
    â€œThere was nothing, Monsieur. Nothing, I am positive of it.”
    â€œThen I must have had the cauchemar, ” said Poirot philosophically.
    â€œUnless,” said M. Bouc, “it was something in the compartment next door that you heard.”
    Poirot took no notice of the suggestion. Perhaps he did not wish to before the Wagon Lit conductor.
    â€œLet us pass to another point,” he said. “Supposing that last night an assassin joined the train. It is quite certain that he could not have left it after committing the crime?”
    Pierre Michael shook his head.
    â€œNor that he can be concealed on it somewhere?”
    â€œIt has been well searched,” said M. Bouc. “Abandon that idea, my friend.”
    â€œBesides,” said Michel, “no one could get on to the sleeping car without my seeing them.”
    â€œWhen was the last stop?”
    â€œVincovci.”
    â€œWhat time was that?”
    â€œWe should have left there at 11:58. But owing to the weather we were twenty minutes late.”
    â€œSomeone might have come along from the ordinary part of the train?”
    â€œNo, Monsieur. After the service of dinner the door between the ordinary carriages and the sleeping cars is locked.”
    â€œDid you yourself descend from the train at Vincovci?”
    â€œYes, Monsieur. I got down on to the platform as usual and stood by the step up into the train. The other conductors did the same.”
    â€œWhat about the forward door? The one near the restaurant car?”
    â€œIt is always fastened on the inside.”
    â€œIt is not so fastened now.”
    The man looked surprised, then his face cleared.
    â€œDoubtless one of the passengers has opened it to