After The Funeral by Agatha Christie

Author:Agatha Christie [Christie, Agatha]
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, Detective, Fiction - Mystery, Crime & mystery, Crime & Thriller, Traditional British, Mystery & Detective - Traditional British
ISBN: 9780006162759
Publisher: London ; HarperCollins, 1993.
Published: 2010-01-14T15:00:00+00:00

"But who could have possibly wanted to kill her ?"

His eyes met hers, a curious speculative look in them that

made Susan feel uncomfortable.

"You don't know ? "he asked.

"No--of course I don't."

"It seems then as though we shall have to find out," said Inspector Morton.

CHAPTER XII

Two LDERLY=m sat together in a room whose furnishings

were of the most modern kind. There were no curves in the

room. Everything was square. Almost the only exception

was Hercule Poirot himself who was full of curves. His

stomach was pleasantly rounded, his head resembled an egg

in shape, and his moustaches curved upwards in a flamboyant

flourish.

He was sipping a glass of sirop and looking thoughtfully at

Mr. Goby.

Mr. Goby was small and spare and shrunken. He had always

been refreshingly nondescript in appearance and he was now

so nondescript as practically not to be there at all. He was

not looking at Poirot because Mr. Goby never looked at

anybody.

Such remarks as he was now making seemed to be addressed

to the left-hand corner of the chrominm-plated fireplace curb.

Mr. Goby was famous for the acquiring of information.

Very few people knew about him and very few employed his

services--but those few were usually extremely rich. They

had to be, for Mr. Goby was very expensive. His speciality

was the acquiring of information quickly. At the flick of

Mr. Goby's double jointed thumb, hundreds of patient questioning

plodding men and women, old and young, of all

apparent stations in life, were despatched to question, and

probe, and achieve results.

Mr. Goby had now practically retired from business. But

he occasionally "obliged" a few old patrons. Hercule Poirot was one of these.

we got what I could for you, Mr. Gob told the fire curb

in a soft confidential whisper. "I sent the boys out. They do what they can--good ladsgood lads all of them, but not what

they used to be in the old days. They don't come that way

nowadays. Not willing to learn, that's what it is. Think they

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