Читаем The Case of the Late Pig полностью

I went into the library, which is a large, old-fashioned room hardly ever used by the Pursuivants. It was cool and the air was aromatic with the smell of paper. I sat down in a big leather armchair to think things out, and I am afraid that my lack of sleep the night before was too much for me. I woke up to find Janet standing before me. She was pale but determined.

'I thought you'd gone out,' she said breathlessly. 'It's late, you know. Look here, Albert, I've got to tell you something. I can't let Bathwick get into trouble for something he didn't do, and I know he'd rather die than tell you himself. If you laugh, I'll never speak to you again.'

I got up and shook off the remnants of sleep. She looked very charming in her white dress, her eyes defiant.

'I've never felt less like laughing in my life,' I said truthfully. 'What's all this about Bathwick?'

She took a deep breath. 'Mr Bathwick didn't fall in a dyke,' she said. 'He fell in our lily-pond.'

'Really? How do you know?'

'I pushed him,' said Janet in a small voice.

Pressed to continue, she explained:

'Last night, after you took Miss Rowlandson home, I didn't go to bed immediately. I went out on the balcony leading from my room. It was a very bright night, as you know, and I saw someone wandering about in the rose garden. I thought it was Daddy mooching about, worrying over the case, and I went out to talk to him. When I got there it was Bathwick. We walked round the garden together, and when we were quite near the lily-pool he — er — '

She paused.

'Offered you his hand and heart in a slightly too forthright manner?' I suggested.

She nodded gratefully. 'I pushed him away, and unfortunately he overbalanced and fell in the pool. As soon as I saw he was safe on land again I went back to the house. It seemed the nicest thing to do. I don't have to tell anybody else, do I?'

'No,' I murmured. 'No, I don't think so.'

She smiled at me. 'You're all right really, Albert,' she said.

And then, of course, I was called to the telephone. It was Poppy on the end of the wire. She has never grown quite used to the instrument, and I had to hold the receiver some inches away from my ear before I could get her message.

'I've made those inquiries,' she boomed. 'I don't think the V. came back; anyway, no one saw him. But who do you think was seen roaming about the top storey yesterday morning? My dear, I wouldn't have thought it of him. He seemed so genuine. Who? Oh, didn't I tell you? Why, the uncle, Hayhoe, of course. Trotting round as though the place belonged to him. The girl who saw him naturally thought I'd given him permission. You never can tell with people, can you?'

<p><strong>CHAPTER 13. SCARECROW IN JUNE</strong></p>

Janet was at my side when I hung up the receiver. 'What is it?' she said anxiously. 'That was Poppy's voice, wasn't it? Oh, Albert, I'm afraid! Something else terrible has happened.'

'Good lord, no!' I said, with an assurance I did not feel. 'There's nothing to be frightened of. At least, I don't think so.'

She stood looking up at me.

'You know it's all right about Bathwick now, don't you?'

'Of course, I assured her cheerfully. 'I'd better go, though. There's something rather important to be fixed, something that's got to be done pretty quickly.'

Lugg brought round the car and we went down to the Police Station together. Leo was still there in consultation with Pussey and I was sorry to see him so drawn and haggard. The affair was getting him down. There were deep lines in his face, and his bright eyes were darker than usual in their anxiety. I stated my case.

'Arrest Heigh-ho?' he said. 'Really? I don't think we can arrest him, don't you know. We can bring him in and question him — wanted to in the beginnin' — but we can't hold him. There's not a tittle of solid evidence against the feller.'

I didn't like to annoy him but I was desperately anxious.

'You must hold him, sir,' I said. 'That's the whole point. Pull him in for something else.'

Leo looked aghast. 'Trump up a charge?' he said. 'Monstrous!'

There was not time to explain, and I had no proof anyway.

'At least keep him here for twenty-four hours,' I pleaded.

Leo frowned at me. 'What's got on your mind, my boy?' he inquired. 'Sound apprehensive. Anythin' in the wind?'

'I don't know,' I said, trying not to appear as rattled as I felt. 'Let's go and get him anyway.'

Leaving Leo to ponder over the question of arrest, Pussey and I went down in the Lagonda to Mrs Thatcher's cottage. We picked up young Birkin leaning against a fence on the opposite side of the road. He was a pleasant, shy youth in dilapidated khaki and he made his report in a stage whisper.

'He's been in all the day,' he said. 'That's 'is room where the light is. You can see 'im if you look.'

He pointed to a blurred shadow on the faded chintz curtains and my heart sank. Birkin, I saw, was destined to confine his attentions to dog licences for some time to come. It was a coat and a bolster over the back of a chair, of course.

Перейти на страницу:

Похожие книги

Смерть дублера
Смерть дублера

Рекс Стаут, создатель знаменитого цикла детективных произведений о Ниро Вулфе, большом гурмане, страстном любителе орхидей и одном из самых великих сыщиков, описанных когда-либо в литературе, на этот раз поручает расследование запутанных преступлений частному детективу Текумсе Фоксу, округ Уэстчестер, штат Нью-Йорк.В уединенном лесном коттедже найдено тело Ридли Торпа, финансиста с незапятнанной репутацией. Энди Грант, накануне убийства посетивший поместье Торпа и первым обнаруживший труп, обвиняется в совершении преступления. Нэнси Грант, сестра Энди, обращается к Текумсе Фоксу, чтобы тот снял с ее брата обвинение в несовершённом убийстве. Фокс принимается за расследование («Смерть дублера»).Очень плохо для бизнеса, когда в банки с качественным продуктом кто-то неизвестный добавляет хинин. Частный детектив Эми Дункан берется за это дело, но вскоре ее отстраняют от расследования. Перед этим машина Эми случайно сталкивается с машиной Фокса – к счастью, без серьезных последствий, – и девушка делится с сыщиком своими подозрениями относительно того, кто виноват в порче продуктов. Виновником Эми считает хозяев фирмы, конкурирующей с компанией ее дяди, Артура Тингли. Девушка отправляется навестить дядю и находит его мертвым в собственном офисе… («Плохо для бизнеса»)Все началось со скрипки. Друг Текумсе Фокса, бывший скрипач, уговаривает частного детектива поучаствовать в благотворительной акции по покупке ценного инструмента для молодого скрипача-виртуоза Яна Тусара. Фокс не поклонник музыки, но вместе с другом он приходит в Карнеги-холл, чтобы послушать выступление Яна. Концерт проходит как назло неудачно, и, похоже, всему виной скрипка. Когда после концерта Фокс с товарищем спешат за кулисы, чтобы утешить Яна, они обнаруживают скрипача мертвым – он застрелился на глазах у свидетелей, а скрипка в суматохе пропала («Разбитая ваза»).

Рекс Тодхантер Стаут

Классический детектив
1984. Скотный двор
1984. Скотный двор

Роман «1984» об опасности тоталитаризма стал одной из самых известных антиутопий XX века, которая стоит в одном ряду с «Мы» Замятина, «О дивный новый мир» Хаксли и «451° по Фаренгейту» Брэдбери.Что будет, если в правящих кругах распространятся идеи фашизма и диктатуры? Каким станет общественный уклад, если власть потребует неуклонного подчинения? К какой катастрофе приведет подобный режим?Повесть-притча «Скотный двор» полна острого сарказма и политической сатиры. Обитатели фермы олицетворяют самые ужасные людские пороки, а сама ферма становится символом тоталитарного общества. Как будут существовать в таком обществе его обитатели – животные, которых поведут на бойню?

Джордж Оруэлл

Классический детектив / Классическая проза / Прочее / Социально-психологическая фантастика / Классическая литература