[Mummy] Yellow sand fills the sky

All barriers that might have existed between the passengers are now broken.All are bound together by a common misfortune.Among them, Mrs. Hubbard was the saddest.

The complaints between them almost merged into a river, and the place where the Montsoleforts were sitting was undoubtedly a piece of pure land. As soon as she saw him coming in, Mrs. Montsolefort waved to him.In order to quiet his ears for a moment and sit down to have a comfortable breakfast, Poirot walked through the crowd with some difficulty and finally sat with them.

"Mr. Poirot, I used to like to sit at the place closest to the waiter serving food. This time, I just hope to spend this morning quietly." She glanced at the people who were discussing enthusiastically at this time, " They don't pay attention to the weather and make a fuss."

By this time, their breakfast was served and they enjoyed a moment of peace.After a delicious breakfast, everyone had the opportunity to talk, "I have expected that if we take this route, we may be stuck halfway. If it weren't for some small conflicts between you and me, maybe we are now On the warm island of Cyprus, it's all your fault." Mrs. Montsolefort said with some preoccupation.

But Mr. Monsolefort was obviously very accommodating to her, "You don't need to change your itinerary, don't you often travel alone?"

This sentence made Mrs. Montsolefort extremely dissatisfied. She looked at her husband who had been drinking tea with reproachful eyes: "You said this sentence so easily, I will go alone. We have decided Double suite, I'm the only one there, do you want me to be criticized by random people?"

They talked for a while longer, and the Montsoleforts returned to their box.Poirot continued to stay here to spend time with the other passengers. At such a time, being with everyone always gives people a special sense of security.He had heard a great deal about Mrs. Hubbard's daughter, and about the lifelong habits of the late Mr. Hubbard, from the time he got up in the morning and began to eat his breakfast cereal until he finally put on Mrs. Hubbard at night. The sleeping habit of knitting sleeping socks for him.

While Poirot was listening to the swedish lady's missionary nonsense, a conductor entered the dining car and stopped beside him.

It was Mr. Bowker who sent him to look for Mr. Poirot. Poirot got up quickly and followed him.When he walked into a second-class box, the seriousness on his friend's face made him clearly feel that something unusual had happened.It was true that there had been a murder in the carriage, and the deceased was Mr. Ratchett, who had sought help from Poirot yesterday and felt that he was in extreme danger.

According to Dr. Constantine's judgment, the death occurred between midnight and two o'clock in the morning.He is said to have been alive at about twenty minutes to one when he spoke to the conductor.Mr. Ratchett's servant knocked on the door several times this morning.None agreed.Then, half an hour ago, the dining-car waiter came.He wanted to know if sir wanted lunch.It was eleven o'clock, and the door of his room was opened, and he was found dead.

The windows of Mr. Ratchett's private room were found wide open, which easily aroused the suspicion that by that route the murderer had escaped.However, opening the windows is an illusion.Anyone who turned off that road would have left a distinct footprint in the snow, but there were none.He was stabbed twelve times—fifteen times, one or two of which were very forceful, piercing through the hard ligaments on the bones and muscles, but so many stabs seemed to be randomly and randomly .A few knives just passed by with little damage.As if someone closed their eyes and poked and poked blindly in a frenzy.

This is a very unusual situation.

At the repeated request of his friend Mr. Bowker, Poirot readily accepted the case and planned to go to the scene of the crime to check it himself.

Dr. Constantine and M. Bouc were the only passengers in this carriage.In the carriage from Bucharest there was only an old gentleman with broken feet.He is well known to the conductor.Behind that were ordinary coaches, but those carriages had nothing to do with them, because they were all locked after dinner was served last night.In front of the Istanbul-Calais train, there is only the dining car.The only good thing was that at 12:30pm the train crashed into a snowdrift.After that, it was impossible for anyone to leave the train.So the murderer was still on the carriage, and in the Istanbul-Calais carriage.

But before going to the scene of the crime, Poirot felt that it was absolutely necessary to talk to McQueen about Mr. Ratchett's occult skills.But there wasn't much to gain, except for two threatening letters from him.The original text of the first letter reads: "You think you've gotten away with deceiving us, don't you? No way. We're determined to kill you, Ratchett, we've got to kill you!" No signature.

Poirot made no comment except to raise his eyebrows, and picked up the second letter. "We're going to kidnap and kill you in a car, Ratchett. It won't be long. We're going to kill you! Kill you! Be careful!"

Poirot put down the letter. "The style is monotonous!" he said. "Variety of handwriting. It requires a special eye for that. The letter was not written by one person, but by two or more people--one letter of a word at a time. Again, you can Write it in print. That makes authenticating the handwriting much more difficult."

Finally, Poirot asked McQueen to leave his full name and address and let him go out without telling the news.

Accompanied by Dr. Constantine, Poirot walked to the next carriage to the private room where the victim lived.The conductor came and opened the door for them with his key.Nothing moved.The doctor was very careful. During the autopsy, the body did not move.

His first feeling was that it was very cold.The windows had been pushed open and remained open, and the curtains had been drawn.

He examined the window frame carefully.He took out a small box from his pocket and blew a little dust on the window frame. "There are no fingerprints at all," he said. "It means the window frame has been rubbed. Yes, even if there are fingerprints, they will tell us very little. It may be that Mr. Ratchett, his servant, Or the conductor's. Criminals today don't make mistakes like that."

"In that case," he went on cheerfully, "we'd better close the window. It's like a cold store here!" He closed the window, and for the first time turned his attention to the motionless body lying on the bunk .

Poirot leaned over the corpse for a long time.Finally, with a slightly pained expression, he straightened his body. "This is really not an easy job." The more he looked at him, the more confused he became. The wounds on the corpse were too strange.

Things became more and more absurd later, and things began to become clear!The murderer is a strong man, she is weak, this is a woman, this is a right-handed person, and this is a left-handed person—hey!This is totally a joke!

More clues appeared, a match that did not belong to this room, a small square of muslin, very delicate.Embroidered in the corner is an initial—h, a woman's handkerchief.A pipe cleaner that supposedly belonged to the murderer.What else can there be? This clue is a little too much.

Poirot held a small piece of paper and muttered to himself. Suddenly, he said to the waiter next to him: "Find me two old-fashioned lady's hat boxes, the Swedish lady's and the maid's. I only want these two. Only."

The waiter went out, and at this moment, Kaia walked through the corridor next to her, she looked inside inadvertently, and found Poirot, "Oh, Mr. Poirot, you are here, I am still looking for you everywhere , I need you to do me a small favor, which requires your keen observation and amazing insight."

She walked in while talking, and the corpse naturally came into her sight. Poirot stepped forward to stop her, but it was too late.She covered her mouth and let out a short, dull exclamation, trying to hold something with her right hand to stabilize her body.Poirot hurriedly stepped forward to support her, "Mrs. Montsolefort, are you alright?" The doctor stood aside and did not move. His hands were still covered with the victim's things. He knew that this lady was You definitely don't want to get in close contact with them.

But in just a few seconds, she took a deep breath, and she had completely calmed down.Forced a smile, "Mr. Poirot, I have nothing to do now. Facts are never as frightening as they seem."

Poirot hesitated for a moment, but he helped her to the chair next to her, but she refused: "I'd better stand, this is the scene of the crime, isn't it, I shouldn't leave any traces of mine here. Standing is the best option, it's the same for us."

"Besides, there is nothing. I hope you can..." Madam Poirot said hesitantly. He knew that in the eyes of the Montsoleforts, his inappropriate words were a very serious matter.

Madame Montsolefort was always so considerate, she understood Poirot's problem almost immediately: "I will keep this secret, leaving messages on this train can spread faster than pneumonia. And we It must be due to Mr. Bowker's hard work that he didn't get this news. Please rest assured that we will never reveal a word without your permission. However, I can't keep my husband informed of this matter.

"Of course, Mr. Monsolefort is reliable. The corpse is not a serious challenge in the eyes of our detectives, but it is a great crisis for my friend Mr. Bowker." Poirot showed a look of embarrassment. .

Kaiya deliberately changed the subject, she looked at the corpse lying there, "This is Mr. Ratchett, he came to you for help at noon that day, sure enough, when I saw him at that time, I thought he might not live long He probably paid for his sins with blood. It was already doomed that he couldn't escape."