Detectives and Young Adventurers: The Complete Short Stories. Agatha Christie

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СКАЧАТЬ beautiful woman in England. It was also rumoured that she was the stupidest.

      ‘Old friends of mine, Miss Glen,’ said Estcourt, with a tinge of apology in his voice for having presumed, even for a moment, to forget such a radiant creature. ‘Tommy and Mrs Tommy, let me introduce you to Miss Gilda Glen.’

      The ring of pride in his voice was unmistakable. By merely being seen in his company, Miss Glen had conferred great glory upon him.

      The actress was staring with frank interest at Tommy.

      ‘Are you really a priest?’ she asked. ‘A Roman Catholic priest, I mean? Because I thought they didn’t have wives.’

      Estcourt went off in a boom of laughter again.

      ‘That’s good,’ he exploded. ‘You sly dog, Tommy. Glad he hasn’t renounced you, Mrs Tommy, with all the rest of the pomps and vanities.’

      Gilda Glen took not the faintest notice of him. She continued to stare at Tommy with puzzled eyes.

      ‘Are you a priest?’ she demanded.

      ‘Very few of us are what we seem to be,’ said Tommy gently. ‘My profession is not unlike that of a priest. I don’t give absolution – but I listen to confessions – I –’

      ‘Don’t you listen to him,’ interrupted Estcourt. ‘He’s pulling your leg.’

      ‘If you’re not a clergyman, I don’t see why you’re dressed up like one,’ she puzzled. ‘That is, unless –’

      ‘Not a criminal flying from justice,’ said Tommy. ‘The other thing.’

      ‘Oh!’ she frowned, and looked at him with beautiful bewildered eyes.

      ‘I wonder if she’ll ever get that,’ thought Tommy to himself. ‘Not unless I put it in words of one syllable for her, I should say.’

      Aloud he said:

      ‘Know anything about the trains back to town, Bulger? We’ve got to be pushing for home. How far is it to the station?’

      ‘Ten minutes’ walk. But no hurry. Next train up is the 6.35 and it’s only about twenty to six now. You’ve just missed one.’

      ‘Which way is it to the station from here?’

      ‘Sharp to the left when you turn out of the hotel. Then – let me see – down Morgan’s Avenue would be the best way, wouldn’t it?’

      ‘Morgan’s Avenue?’ Miss Glen started violently, and stared at him with startled eyes.

      ‘I know what you’re thinking of,’ said Estcourt, laughing. ‘The Ghost. Morgan’s Avenue is bounded by the cemetery on one side, and tradition has it that a policeman who met his death by violence gets up and walks on his old beat, up and down Morgan’s Avenue. A spook policeman! Can you beat it? But lots of people swear to having seen him.’

      ‘A policeman?’ said Miss Glen. She shivered a little. ‘But there aren’t really any ghosts, are there? I mean – there aren’t such things?’

      She got up, folding her wrap tighter round her.

      ‘Goodbye,’ she said vaguely.

      She had ignored Tuppence completely throughout, and now she did not even glance in her direction. But, over her shoulder, she threw one puzzled questioning glance at Tommy.

      Just as she got to the door, she encountered a tall man with grey hair and a puffy face, who uttered an exclamation of surprise. His hand on her arm, he led her through the doorway, talking in an animated fashion.

      ‘Beautiful creature, isn’t she?’ said Estcourt. ‘Brains of a rabbit. Rumour has it that she’s going to marry Lord Leconbury. That was Leconbury in the doorway.’

      ‘He doesn’t look a very nice sort of man to marry,’ remarked Tuppence.

      Estcourt shrugged his shoulders.

      ‘A title has a kind of glamour still, I suppose,’ he said. ‘And Leconbury is not an impoverished peer by any means. She’ll be in clover. Nobody knows where she sprang from. Pretty near the gutter, I dare say. There’s something deuced mysterious about her being down here anyway. She’s not staying at the hotel. And when I tried to find out where she was staying, she snubbed me – snubbed me quite crudely, in the only way she knows. Blessed if I know what it’s all about.’

      He glanced at his watch and uttered an exclamation.

      ‘I must be off. Jolly glad to have seen you two again. We must have a bust in town together some night. So long.’

      He hurried away, and as he did so, a page approached with a note on a salver. The note was unaddressed.

      ‘But it’s for you, sir,’ he said to Tommy. ‘From Miss Gilda Glen.’

      Tommy tore it open and read it with some curiosity. Inside were a few lines written in a straggling untidy hand.

       I’m not sure, but I think you might be able to help me. And you’ll be going that way to the station. Could you be at The White House, Morgan’s Avenue, at ten minutes past six?

       Yours sincerely,

       Gilda Glen.

      Tommy nodded to the page, who departed, and then handed the note to Tuppence.

      ‘Extraordinary!’ said Tuppence. ‘Is it because she still thinks you’re a priest?’

      ‘No,’ said Tommy thoughtfully. ‘I should say it’s because she’s at last taken in that I’m not one. Hullo! what’s this?’

      ‘This,’ was a young man with flaming red hair, a pugnacious jaw, and appallingly shabby clothes. He had walked into the room and was now striding up and down muttering to himself.

      ‘Hell!’ said the red-haired man, loudly and forcibly. ‘That’s what I say – Hell!’

      He dropped into a chair near the young couple and stared at them moodily.

      ‘Damn all women, that’s what I say,’ said the young man, eyeing Tuppence ferociously. ‘Oh! all right, kick up a row if you like. Have me turned out of the hotel. It won’t be for the first time. Why shouldn’t we say what we think? Why should we go about bottling up our feelings, and smirking, and saying things exactly like everyone else. I don’t feel pleasant and polite. I feel like getting hold of someone round the throat and gradually choking them to death.’

      He paused.

      ‘Any particular person?’ asked Tuppence. ‘Or just anybody?’

      ‘One particular person,’ said the young man grimly.

      ‘This is very interesting,’ said Tuppence. ‘Won’t you tell us some more?’

      ‘My name’s Reilly,’ said the red-haired man. ‘James Reilly. You may have heard it. I wrote a little СКАЧАТЬ