Closed Casket: The New Hercule Poirot Mystery. Агата Кристи

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       CHAPTER 3

       A Particular Interest in Death

      ‘I must tell you who else is here,’ said Poirot. ‘You and I are not the only guests, mon ami. Altogether, including Lady Playford, there are eleven of us at Lillieoak. If one counts the servants as well, there are three more: Hatton the butler, a maid named Phyllis, and the cook, Brigid. The question is: ought we to count the servants?’

      ‘Count them as what? Or for what? What are you talking about, Poirot? Are you here to conduct a study of the population of County Cork—how many inhabitants per house, that sort of thing?’

      ‘I have missed your sense of humour, Catchpool, but we must be serious. As I say, we do not have long. Soon—within the half hour—someone will disturb us to prepare for the serving of drinks. Now, listen. At Lillieoak, apart from ourselves and the servants, there is our hostess, Lady Playford, the two lawyers we have talked about—Gathercole and Rolfe. There is also Lady Playford’s secretary, Joseph Scotcher, a nurse by the name of Sophie Bourlet—’

      ‘A nurse?’ I perched on the arm of a chair. ‘Is Lady Playford in poor health, then?’

      ‘No. Let me finish. Also here are Lady Playford’s two children, the wife of one and the young gentleman friend of the other. In fact, I believe Mr Randall Kimpton and Miss Claudia Playford are engaged to be married. She lives at Lillieoak. He is visiting from England. An American by birth, but also an Oxford man, I think Lady Playford said.’

      ‘So you got all of this from her?’

      ‘You will discover when you meet her that she is able to convey much in a short space of time, all with great colour and speed.’

      ‘I see. That sounds alarming. Still, it’s comforting to know that someone in this house is capable of speech—given the butler, I mean. Have you reached the end of your inventory of people?’

      ‘Yes, but I have not yet named the last two. Mademoiselle Claudia’s brother, Lady Playford’s son, is Harry, the sixth Viscount Playford of Clonakilty. He too I have already met. He lives here with his wife Dorothy, who is referred to by all as Dorro.’

      ‘All right. And why is it so important that we list these people before we all gather for drinks? Incidentally, I should like to find my room and run a flannel over my face before the evening’s activities get underway, so—’

      ‘Your face is clean enough,’ said Poirot with authority. ‘Turn around and look at what is mounted above the door.’

      I did so, and saw angry eyes, a big black nose and an open mouth full of fangs. ‘Good gracious, what the devil is that?’

      ‘The stuffed head of a leopard cub—the handiwork of Harry, Viscount Playford. He is a practitioner of taxidermy.’ Poirot frowned and added, ‘An enthusiastic one, who tries to persuade strangers that no other hobby is likely to provide the same satisfaction.’

      ‘So the deer’s head in the hall must be his too,’ I said.

      ‘I told him I do not have the necessary implements or knowledge for the stuffing of animals. He said I would need only some wire, a penknife, needle and thread, hemp and arsenic. I thought it judicious not to tell him that I would also need not to find the idea repellent.’

      I smiled. ‘A hobby involving arsenic would hardly appeal to a detective who has solved murders caused by that very poison.’

      ‘This is what I want to talk to you about, mon ami. Death. Viscount Playford’s hobby is one that is all about the dead. Animals, not people—but they are still dead.’

      ‘Assuredly. I don’t see what the relevance is, though.’

      ‘You remember the name Joseph Scotcher—I mentioned it a moment ago.’

      ‘Lady Playford’s secretary, yes?’

      ‘He is dying. From Bright’s disease of the kidneys. That is why the nurse, Sophie Bourlet, lives here—to tend to his needs as an invalid.’

      ‘I see. So the secretary and the nurse both live at Lillieoak?’

      Poirot nodded. ‘Now we have three people gathered here who, one way or another, are involved closely with death. And then there is you, Catchpool. And me. We both have encountered many cases of violent death in the course of our work. Mr Randall Kimpton, who plans to marry Claudia Playford—what work do you think he does?’

      ‘Does it involve death? Is he an undertaker? A chiseller of gravestones?’

      ‘He is a pathologist for the police in the county of Oxfordshire. He too works closely with death. Eh bien, do you wish to ask me about Mr Gathercole and Mr Rolfe?’

      ‘No need. Lawyers deal with the affairs of the dead every day.’

      ‘That is particularly true of the firm of Gathercole and Rolfe, which is well known for its specialism: the estates and testamentary dispositions of the wealthy. Catchpool, surely you see by now?’

      ‘And what of Claudia Playford and Dorro, the Viscount’s wife? What are their connections to death? Does one of them slaughter livestock while the other embalms corpses?’

      ‘You joke about this,’ said Poirot gravely. ‘You do not think it is interesting that so many people with a particular interest in death, either private or professional, are gathered here at Lillieoak at the same time? Me, I would like to know what Lady Playford has in mind. I cannot believe it is accidental.’

      ‘Well, she might have some sort of game planned for after dinner. Being a writer of mysteries, I imagine she wants to keep us all in suspense. You did not answer my question about Dorro and Claudia.’

      ‘I can think of nothing appropriate to our theme that applies to them,’ Poirot admitted after a moment.

      ‘Then I call it a coincidence! Now, if I’m to wash my face and hands before dinner—’

      ‘Why do you avoid me, mon ami?’

      I stopped inches СКАЧАТЬ