Crooked House. Agatha Christie
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Название: Crooked House

Автор: Agatha Christie

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Триллеры

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isbn: 9780007422234

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СКАЧАТЬ doubt at all,’ I said. ‘And don’t say unfortunately. You and I have survived a world war, we’ve had plenty of near escapes from sudden death—and I don’t see why the sudden death of just one old man—how old was he, by the way?’

      ‘Eighty-seven.’

      ‘Of course. It was in the Times. If you ask me, he just died of old age, and any self-respecting GP would accept the fact.’

      ‘If you’d known my grandfather,’ said Sophia, ‘you’d have been surprised at his dying of anything!’

       CHAPTER 3

      I’d always taken a certain amount of interest in my father’s police work, but nothing had prepared me for the moment when I should come to take a direct and personal interest in it.

      I had not yet seen the Old Man. He had been out when I arrived, and after a bath, a shave, and a change I had gone out to meet Sophia. When I returned to the house, however, Glover told me that he was in his study.

      He was at his desk, frowning over a lot of papers. He jumped up when I came in.

      ‘Charles! Well, well, it’s been a long time.’

      Our meeting, after five years of war, would have disappointed a Frenchman. Actually all the emotion of reunion was there all right. The Old Man and I are very fond of each other, and we understand each other pretty well.

      ‘I’ve got some whisky,’ he said. ‘Say when. Sorry I was out when you got here. I’m up to the ears in work. Hell of a case just unfolding.’

      I leaned back in my chair and lit a cigarette.

      ‘Aristide Leonides?’ I asked.

      His brows came down quickly over his eyes. He shot me a quick appraising glance. His voice was polite and steely.

      ‘Now what makes you say that, Charles?’

      ‘I’m right then?’

      ‘How did you know about this?’

      ‘Information received.’

      The Old Man waited.

      ‘My information,’ I said, ‘came from the stable itself.’

      ‘Come on, Charles, let’s have it.’

      ‘You mayn’t like it,’ I said. ‘I met Sophia Leonides out in Cairo. I fell in love with her. I’m going to marry her. I met her tonight. She dined with me.’

      ‘Dined with you? In London? I wonder just how she managed to do that! The family was asked—oh, quite politely, to stay put.’

      ‘Quite so. She shinned down a pipe from the bathroom window.’

      The Old Man’s lips twitched for a moment into a smile.

      ‘She seems,’ he said, ‘to be a young lady of some resource.’

      ‘But your police force is fully efficient,’ I said. ‘A nice Army type tracked her to Mario’s. I shall figure in the reports you get. Five foot eleven, brown hair, brown eyes, dark-blue pin-stripe suit, etc.’

      The Old Man looked at me hard.

      ‘Is this—serious?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It’s serious, Dad.’

      There was a moment’s silence.

      ‘Do you mind?’ I asked.

      ‘I shouldn’t have minded—a week ago. They’re a well-established family—the girl will have money—and I know you. You don’t lose your head easily. As it is—’

      ‘Yes, Dad?’

      ‘It may be all right, if—’

      ‘If what?’

      ‘If the right person did it.’

      It was the second time that night I had heard that phrase. I began to be interested.

      ‘Just who is the right person?’

      He threw a sharp glance at me.

      ‘How much do you know about it all?’

      ‘Nothing.’

      ‘Nothing?’ He looked surprised. ‘Didn’t the girl tell you?’

      ‘No. She said she’d rather I saw it all—from an outside point of view.’

      ‘Now I wonder why that was?’

      ‘Isn’t it rather obvious?’

      ‘No, Charles. I don’t think it is.’

      He walked up and down frowning. He had lit a cigar and the cigar had gone out. That showed me just how disturbed the old boy was.

      ‘How much do you know about the family?’ he shot at me.

      ‘Damn all! I know there was the old man and a lot of sons and grandchildren and in-laws. I haven’t got the ramifications clear.’ I paused and then said, ‘You’d better put me in the picture, Dad.’

      ‘Yes.’ He sat down. ‘Very well then—I’ll begin at the beginning—with Aristide Leonides. He arrived in England when he was twenty-four.’

      ‘A Greek from Smyrna.’

      ‘You do know that much?’

      ‘Yes, but it’s about all I do know.’

      The door opened and Glover came in to say that Chief Inspector Taverner was here.

      ‘He’s in charge of the case,’ said my father. ‘We’d better have him in. He’s been checking up on the family. Knows more about them than I do.’

      I asked if the local police had called in the Yard.

      ‘It’s in our jurisdiction. Swinly Dean is Greater London.’

      I nodded as Chief Inspector Taverner came into the room. I knew Taverner from many years back. He greeted me warmly and congratulated me on my safe return.

      ‘I’m putting Charles in the picture,’ said the Old Man. ‘Correct me if I go wrong, Taverner. Leonides came to London in 1884. He started up a little restaurant in Soho. It paid. He started up another. Soon he owned seven or eight of them. They all paid hand over fist.’

      ‘Never made any mistakes in anything he handled,’ said Chief Inspector Taverner.

      ‘He’d got a natural flair,’ said my father. ‘In the end he was behind most of the well-known restaurants in London. СКАЧАТЬ