A Pocket Full of Rye. Агата Кристи

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Neele said, ‘Right. Put him through,’ which rather scandalized the owner of the voice, who had allowed a certain amount of reverence to seep into the official accents.

      There were then various clicks, buzzes, and far-off ghostly murmurs. Inspector Neele sat patiently waiting.

      Then without warning a deep bass roar caused him to shift the receiver an inch or two away from his ear.

      ‘Hallo, Neele, you old vulture. At it again with your corpses?’

      Inspector Neele and Professor Bernsdorff of St Jude’s had been brought together over a case of poisoning just over a year ago and had remained on friendly terms.

      ‘Our man’s dead, I hear, doc.’

      ‘Yes. We couldn’t do anything by the time he got here.’

      ‘And the cause of death?’

      ‘There will have to be an autopsy, naturally. Very interesting case. Very interesting indeed. Glad I was able to be in on it.’

      The professional gusto in Bernsdorff’s rich tones told Inspector Neele one thing at least.

      ‘I gather you don’t think it was natural death,’ he said dryly.

      ‘Not a dog’s chance of it,’ said Dr Bernsdorff robustly. ‘I’m speaking unofficially, of course,’ he added with belated caution.

      ‘Of course. Of course. That’s understood. He was poisoned?’

      ‘Definitely. And what’s more—this is quite unofficial, you understand—just between you and me—I’d be prepared to make a bet on what the poison was.’

      ‘In-deed?’

      ‘Taxine, my boy. Taxine.’

      ‘Taxine? Never heard of it.’

      ‘I know. Most unusual. Really delightfully unusual! I don’t say I’d have spotted it myself if I hadn’t had a case only three or four weeks ago. Couple of kids playing dolls’ tea-parties—pulled berries off a yew tree and used them for tea.’

      ‘Is that what it is? Yew berries?’

      ‘Berries or leaves. Highly poisonous. Taxine, of course, is the alkaloid. Don’t think I’ve heard of a case where it was used deliberately. Really most interesting and unusual … You’ve no idea, Neele, how tired one gets of the inevitable weed-killer. Taxine is a real treat. Of course, I may be wrong—don’t quote me, for Heaven’s sake—but I don’t think so. Interesting for you, too, I should think. Varies the routine!’

      ‘A good time is to be had by all, is that the idea? With the exception of the victim.’

      ‘Yes, yes, poor fellow.’ Dr Bernsdorff’s tone was perfunctory. ‘Very bad luck on him.’

      ‘Did he say anything before he died?’

      ‘Well, one of your fellows was sitting by him with a notebook. He’ll have the exact details. He muttered something once about tea—that he’d been given something in his tea at the office—but that’s nonsense, of course.’

      ‘Why is it nonsense?’ Inspector Neele, who had been reviewing speculatively the picture of the glamorous Miss Grosvenor adding yew berries to a brew of tea, and finding it incongruous, spoke sharply.

      ‘Because the stuff couldn’t possibly have worked so soon. I understand the symptoms came on immediately he had drunk the tea?’

      ‘That’s what they say.’

      ‘Well, there are very few poisons that act as quickly as that, apart from the cyanides, of course—and possibly pure nicotine—’

      ‘And it definitely wasn’t cyanide or nicotine?’

      ‘My dear fellow. He’d have been dead before the ambulance arrived. Oh no, there’s no question of anything of that kind. I did suspect strychnine, but the convulsions were not at all typical. Still unofficial, of course, but I’ll stake my reputation it’s taxine.’

      ‘How long would that take to work?’

      ‘Depends. An hour. Two hours, three hours. Deceased looked like a hearty eater. If he had had a big breakfast, that would slow things up.’

      ‘Breakfast,’ said Inspector Neele thoughtfully. ‘Yes, it looks like breakfast.’

      ‘Breakfast with the Borgias.’ Dr Bernsdorff laughed cheerfully. ‘Well, good hunting, my lad.’

      ‘Thanks, doctor. I’d like to speak to my sergeant before you ring off.’

      Again there were clicks and buzzes and far-off ghostly voices. And then the sound of heavy breathing came through, an inevitable prelude to Sergeant Hay’s conversation.

      ‘Sir,’ he said urgently. ‘Sir.’

      ‘Neele here. Did the deceased say anything I ought to know?’

      ‘Said it was the tea. The tea he had at the office. But the M.O. says not …’

      ‘Yes, I know about that. Nothing else?’

      ‘No, sir. But there’s one thing that’s odd. The suit he was wearing—I checked the contents of the pockets. The usual stuff—handkerchief, keys, change, wallet—but there was one thing that’s downright peculiar. The right-hand pocket of his jacket. It had cereal in it.’

      ‘Cereal?’

      ‘Yes, sir.’

      ‘What do you mean by cereal? Do you mean a breakfast food? Farmer’s Glory or Wheatifax? Or do you mean corn or barley—’

      ‘That’s right, sir. Grain it was. Looked like rye to me. Quite a lot of it.’

      ‘I see … Odd … But it might have been a sample—something to do with a business deal.’

      ‘Quite so, sir—but I thought I’d better mention it.’

      ‘Quite right, Hay.’

      Inspector Neele sat staring ahead of him for a few moments after he had replaced the telephone receiver. His orderly mind was moving from Phase I to Phase II of the inquiry—from suspicion of poisoning to certainty of poisoning. Professor Bernsdorff’s words may have been unofficial, but Professor Bernsdorff was not a man to be mistaken in his beliefs. Rex Fortescue had been poisoned and the poison had probably been administered one to three hours before the onset of the first symptoms. It seemed probable, therefore, that the office staff could be given a clean bill of health.

      Neele got up and went into the outer office. A little desultory work was being done but the typewriters were not going at full speed.

      ‘Miss Griffith? Can I have another word with you?’

      ‘Certainly, Mr Neele. Could some of the girls go out to lunch? It’s long past their regular time. Or would СКАЧАТЬ