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nydus/The Murder of Roger AckroydPublic

A legendary Belgian detective comes out of retirement to investigate a friend’s murder.

Page 133 of 306
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“I suppose the housemaid would turn down the bed.”

“Who is she? What do you know about her?”

“She’s not been here very long,” said Mrs. Ackroyd. “But she’s a nice ordinary country girl.”

“I think we ought to clear this matter up,” said the inspector. “If Mr. Ackroyd paid that money away himself, it may have a bearing on the mystery of the crime. The other servants all right, as far as you know?”

“Oh, I think so.”

“Not missed anything before?”

“No.”

“None of them leaving, or anything like that?”

“The parlour maid is leaving.”

“When?”

“She gave notice yesterday, I believe.”

“To you?”

“Oh, no. I have nothing to do with the servants. Miss Russell attends to the household matters.”

The inspector remained lost in thought for a minute or two. Then he nodded his head and remarked, “I think I’d better have a word with Miss Russell, and I’ll see the girl Dale as well.”

Poirot and I accompanied him to the housekeeper’s room. Miss Russell received us with her usual sangfroid.

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