Murder on the Orient Express

Agatha Christie 
™
 MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS 
69
“The idea is absurd,” said Arbuthnot. “The man was a perfect stranger—she had never seen 
him before.” 
“Did she tell you so?” 
“She did. She commented at once upon his somewhat unpleasant appearance. If a woman is 
concerned, as you seem to think (to my mind without any evidence but on a mere assumption), I 
can assure you that Miss Debenham could not possibly be implicated.” 
“You feel warmly in the matter,” said Poirot with a smile. 
Colonel Arbuthnot gave him a cold stare. “I really don’t know what you mean,” he said. 
The stare seemed to abash Poirot. He dropped his eyes and began fiddling with the papers in 
front of him. 
“All this is by the way,” he said. “Let us be practical and come to facts. This crime, we have 
reason to believe, took place at a quarter past one last night. It is part of the necessary routine to 
ask everyone on the train what he or she was doing at that time.” 
“Quite so. At a quarter past one, to the best of my belief, I was talking to the young American 
fellow—secretary to the dead man.” 
“Ah! were you in his compartment, or was he in yours?” 
“I was in his.” 
“That is the young man of the name of MacQueen?” 
“Yes.” 
“He was a friend or acquaintance of yours?” 
“No, I never saw him before this journey. We fell into casual conversation yesterday and both 
became interested. I don’t as a rule like Americans—haven’t any use for ’em—” 
Poirot smiled, remembering MacQueen’s strictures on “Britishers.” 
“—but I liked this young fellow. He’d got hold of some tomfool idiotic ideas about the 
situation in India. That’s the worst of Americans—they’re so sentimental and idealistic. Well, he 
was interested in what I had to tell him. I’ve had nearly thirty years’ experience of the country. 
And I was interested in what he had to tell me about the working of Prohibition in America. 
Then we got down to world politics in general. I was quite surprised to look at my watch and 
find it was a quarter to two.” 
“That is the time you broke up this conversation?” 
“Yes.” 
“What did you do then?” 
“Walked along to my own compartment and turned in.” 
“Your bed was made up ready?” 
“Yes.” 
“That is the compartment—let me see—No. 15—the one next but one to the end away from 
the dining-car?” 
“Yes.” 
“Where was the conductor when you went to your compartment?” 
“Sitting at the end at a little table. As a matter of fact MacQueen called him just as I went in 
to my own compartment.” 
“Why did he call him?” 
“To make up his bed, I suppose. The compartment hadn’t been made up for the night.” 
“Now, Colonel Arbuthnot, I want you to think carefully. During the time you were talking to 
Mr. MacQueen, did anyone pass along the corridor outside the door?” 
“A good many people, I should think. I wasn’t paying attention.” 

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