The Unexpected Guest. Agatha Christie

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ him, perplexed. ‘But suppose the police succeed in finding this man,’ she asked. ‘What happens then?’

      Starkwedder beamed at her. ‘If he still lives in Canada, it’ll take a bit of doing,’ he announced with an air of smugness. ‘And by the time they do find him, he’ll no doubt have an alibi for tonight. Being a few thousand miles away ought to be satisfactory enough. And by then it will be a bit late for them to check up on things here. Anyway, it’s the best we can do. It’ll give us breathing space at all events.’

      Laura looked worried. ‘I don’t like it,’ she complained.

      Starkwedder gave her a somewhat exasperated look. ‘My dear girl,’ he admonished her, ‘you can’t afford to be choosy. But you must try to remember that man’s name.’

      ‘I can’t, I tell you, I can’t,’ Laura insisted.

      ‘Was it MacDougall, perhaps? Or Mackintosh?’ he suggested helpfully.

      Laura took a few steps away from him, putting her hands to her ears. ‘Do stop,’ she cried. ‘You’re only making it worse. I’m not sure now that it was Mac anything.’

      ‘Well, if you can’t remember, you can’t,’ Starkwedder conceded. ‘We shall have to manage without. You don’t remember the date, by any chance, or anything useful like that?’

      ‘Oh, I can tell you the date, all right,’ said Laura. ‘It was May the fifteenth.’

      Surprised, Starkwedder asked, ‘Now, how on earth can you remember that?’

      There was bitterness in Laura’s voice as she replied, ‘Because it happened on my birthday.’

      ‘Ah, I see–yes–well, that solves one little problem,’ observed Starkwedder. ‘And we’ve also got one little piece of luck. This paper is dated the fifteenth.’ He cut the date out carefully from the newspaper.

      Joining him at the desk and looking over his shoulder, Laura pointed out that the date on the newspaper was November the fifteenth, not May. ‘Yes,’ he admitted, ‘but it’s the numbers that are the more awkward. Now, May. May’s a short word–ah, yes, here’s an M. Now an A, and a Y.’

      ‘What in heaven’s name are you doing?’ Laura asked.

      Starkwedder’s only response, as he seated himself in the desk chair, was, ‘Got any paste?’

      Laura was about to take a pot of paste from a pigeon-hole, but he stopped her. ‘No, don’t touch,’ he instructed. ‘We don’t want your fingerprints on it.’ He took the pot of paste in his gloved hands, and removed the lid. ‘How to be a criminal in one easy lesson,’ he continued. ‘And, yes, here’s a plain block of writing paper–the kind sold all over the British Isles.’ Taking a notepad from the pigeon-hole, he proceeded to paste words and letters onto a sheet of notepaper. ‘Now, watch this, one–two–three–a bit tricky with gloves. But there we are. “May fifteen. Paid in full.” Oh, the “in” has come off.’ He pasted it back on again. ‘There, now. How do you like that?’

      He tore the sheet off the pad and showed it to her, then went across to Richard Warwick’s body in its wheelchair. ‘We’ll tuck it neatly into his jacket pocket, like that.’ As he did so, he dislodged a pocket lighter, which fell to the floor. ‘Hello, what’s this?’

      Laura gave a sharp exclamation and tried to snatch the lighter up, but Starkwedder had already done so, and was examining it. ‘Give it to me,’ cried Laura breathlessly. ‘Give it to me!’

      Looking faintly surprised, Starkwedder handed it to her. ‘It’s–it’s my lighter,’ she explained, unnecessarily.

      ‘All right, so it’s your lighter,’ he agreed. ‘That’s nothing to get upset about.’ He looked at her curiously. ‘You’re not losing your nerve, are you?’

      She walked away from him to the sofa. As she did so, she rubbed the lighter on her skirt as though to remove possible fingerprints, taking care to ensure that Starkwedder did not observe her doing so. ‘No, of course I’m not losing my nerve,’ she assured him.

      Having made certain that the pasted-up message from the newspaper in Richard Warwick’s breast pocket was tucked securely under the lapel, Starkwedder went over to the desk, replaced the lid of the paste-pot, removed his gloves, took out a handkerchief, and looked at Laura. ‘There we are!’ he announced. ‘All ready for the next step. Where’s that glass you were drinking out of just now?’

      Laura retrieved the glass from the table where she had deposited it. Leaving her lighter on the table, she returned with the glass to Starkwedder. He took it from her, and was about to wipe off her fingerprints, but then stopped. ‘No,’ he murmured. ‘No, that would be stupid.’

      ‘Why?’ asked Laura.

      ‘Well, there ought to be fingerprints,’ he explained, ‘both on the glass and on the decanter. This valet fellow’s, for one, and probably your husband’s as well. No fingerprints at all would look very fishy to the police.’ He took a sip from the glass he was holding. ‘Now I must think of a way to explain mine,’ he added. ‘Crime isn’t easy, is it?’

      With sudden passion, Laura exclaimed, ‘Oh, don’t! Don’t get mixed up in this. They might suspect you.’

      Amused, Starkwedder replied, ‘Oh, I’m a very respectable chap–quite above suspicion. But, in a sense I am mixed up in it already. After all, my car’s out there, stuck fast in the ditch. But don’t worry, just a spot of perjury and a little tinkering with the time element–that’s the worst they’d be able to bring against me. And they won’t, if you play your part properly.’

      Frightened, Laura sat on the footstool, with her back to him. He came round to face her. ‘Now then,’ he said, ‘are you ready?’

      ‘Ready–for what?’ asked Laura.

      ‘Come on, you must pull yourself together,’ he urged her.

      Sounding dazed, she murmured, ‘I feel–stupid–I–I can’t think.’

      ‘You don’t have to think,’ Starkwedder told her. ‘You’ve just got to obey orders. Now then, here’s the blueprint. First, have you got a furnace of any kind in the house?’

      ‘A furnace?’ Laura thought, and then replied, ‘Well, there’s the water boiler.’

      ‘Good.’ He went to the desk, took the newspaper, and rolled up the scraps of paper in it. Returning to Laura, he handed her the bundle. ‘Now then,’ he instructed her, ‘the first thing you do is to go into the kitchen and put this in the boiler. Then you go upstairs, get out of your clothes and into a dressing-gown–or negligée, or what-have-you.’ He paused. ‘Have you got any aspirin?’

      Puzzled, Laura replied, ‘Yes.’

      As though thinking and planning as he spoke, Starkwedder continued, ‘Well–empty the bottle down the loo. Then go along to someone–your mother-in-law, or Miss–what is it–Bennett?–and say you’ve got a headache and want some aspirin. Then, while you’re with whoever it is–leave the door open, by the way–you’ll hear the shot.’

      ‘What shot?’ asked Laura, staring at him.

      Without СКАЧАТЬ