Читаем The Fourth Side of the Triangle полностью

“I can’t stand it any more, I’m tired. I couldn’t stay away from her. Judy? I’m sorry. Judy, Judy... Now you know what was wrong with me. It was driving me mad, what I had done to Sheila. It was bad enough that first time, when I almost strangled her. But when I lost my head again, later that awful night... I couldn’t stay away, I came back. I told you I came back after walking and walking around outside. What I didn’t tell you was that on my way back to the building I saw Ramon sneaking in — sneaking, unmistakably. Ramon — pussyfooting it up to Sheila’s apartment through the service elevator... It came back to me then, those peculiar phone calls, her evasive remarks when I was around. Suppose those calls hadn’t been from my father, as I’d thought? Suppose... suppose she was having an affair with Ramon? With my father’s chauffeur, for God’s sake! I went up after him, he didn’t see me, because I used the front way. I was so quiet they didn’t hear me. Ramon was talking in the workroom, with a mumble from Sheila now and then — I couldn’t hear — I couldn’t hear what they were saying — but it seemed to me he had an intimate note in his voice, and he laughed once or twice in a way... the way... I was sure they were lovers. Why else would he be there? It never occurred to me that he was blackmailing her. All I could think was, how vile, how cheap of her... He wasn’t there long, but I heard him say he’d be back, and I took it to mean he was coming back to spend the night with her and I was so crazy blind furious with jealousy and humiliation I was shaking all over. And the fury got me. And I made my hands stop shaking — I didn’t give a damn about Ramon, he didn’t count, he was a bug, it was Sheila, Sheila... So I got the gun out of the drawer, my hands weren’t shaking any more, and I went to the doorway of the workroom and she was sitting at her desk talking into the phone and I fired straight at her lying, cheating heart, and she fell over, and the phone fell out of her hand and I went over and picked it up and put it back on the cradle... And there was one other thing. I knew how she named her collections because she had told me, she had shown me the one she’d finished for this year with my name on it in the anagram form of ‘Edna.’ The spell had passed and I was thinking cold sober and I knew that name mustn’t be found because if it was, someone might figure out that ‘Edna’ meant me and that I was her current lover or had been, and so I looked over the sketches on her work desk and found the finished one with ‘Edna’ on it. I didn’t dare destroy it, because there was probably a record of such a finished drawing at her salon that a lot of people knew about, so instead I went to work on it with ink eradicator and I applied it to the ‘Lady Edna’ so the name disappeared. Then I got an idea. It might well happen that I’d be suspected. Suppose I put a name down on the sketch, an anagram, that would lead the police astray. If they didn’t see it, I could always call it to their attention... I had seen in a flash that an anagram could be made from Ramon’s name. I never doubted he was her lover, never, not once — and, well, Ramon had been in the apartment only a few minutes before, and I was furious with him... I framed him with the anagram ‘Lady Norma,’ handprinting it over the erasure — I had no time to try to forge Sheila’s handwriting. The whole thing didn’t take me three minutes... Dad, Mother, Judy, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, there’s something wrong inside me, there always has been, since I was a kid. Everything went wrong. First, Dad, you were accused. I’d never thought that would happen. Then you, Mother — that was terrible. Oh, you have to believe that I wouldn’t ever have allowed either of you to be convicted. If everything else had failed, if Queen hadn’t come up with something, if the bartender hadn’t been found or the TV thing hadn’t come out, I would have come forward and given myself up. I would have. You have to believe that. I would have confessed...

“Sheila, Sheila!”

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