Агата Кристи - Dumb Witness / Безмолвный свидетель. Книга для чтения на английском языке

We laughed as in duty bound [479] as in duty bound – из чувства долга . Poirot prised up the lid of the tin.

‘Nearly empty,’ he murmured.

The old man had a look.

‘Aye, there’s more gone than I thought. No idea I’d used that much. I’ll be having to order some more.’

‘Yes,’ said Poirot smiling. ‘I’m afraid there’s hardly enough for you to spare me some for my wife!’

We all had another good laugh over this witticism.

‘You’re not married, I take it, mister?’

‘No.’

‘Ah! it’s always them as isn’t that can afford to joke about it. Those that isn’t don’t know what trouble is!’

‘I gather that your wife—?’ Poirot paused delicately.

‘She’s alive all right—very much so.’

Angus seemed a little depressed about it.

Complimenting him on his garden, we bade him farewell [480] to bid farewell – прощаться .

The tin of weed-killer had started a new train of thought [481] train of thought – ход мыслей in my mind. It was the first definite suspicious circumstance that I had encountered. Charles’ interest in it, the old gardener’s obvious surprise at finding the tin almost empty—it all seemed to point in the right direction.

Poirot was, as usual when I am excited, very non-committal.

‘Even if some of the weed-killer has been taken, there is as yet no evidence that Charles was the person to take it, Hastings.’

‘But he talked so much to the gardener about it!’

‘Not a very wise procedure if he was going to help himself to some.’

Then he went on:

‘What is the first and simplest poison to come into your mind if you were asked to name one quickly?’

‘Arsenic, I suppose.’

‘Yes. You understand then, that very marked pause before the word strychnine when Charles was talking to us today.’

‘You mean—?’

‘That he was about to say “arsenic in the soup,” and stopped himself.’

‘Ah!’ I said, ‘and why did he stop himself?’

‘Exactly. Why? I may say, Hastings, that it was to find the answer to that particular “why?” which made me go out into the garden in search of any likely source of weed-killer.’

‘And you found it!’

‘And I found it.’

I shook my head.

‘It begins to look rather bad for young Charles. You had a good talk with Ellen over the old lady’s illness. Did her symptoms resemble those of arsenic poisoning?’

Poirot rubbed his nose.

‘It is difficult to say. There was abdominal pain [482] abdominal pain – боль в животе —sickness.’

‘Of course—that’s it!’

‘H’m, I am not so sure.’

‘What poison did it resemble?’

‘ Eh bien, my friend, it resembled not so much poison as disease of the liver and death from that cause!’

‘Oh, Poirot,’ I cried. ‘It can’t be natural death! It’s got to be murder!’

‘Oh, là là, we seem to have changed places, you and I.’

He turned abruptly into a chemist’s shop. After a long discussion of Poirot’s particular internal troubles, he purchased a small box of indigestion lozenges. Then, when his purchase was wrapped up and he was about to leave the shop, his attention was taken by an attractively-wrapped package of Dr Loughbarrow’s Liver Capsules.

‘Yes, sir, a very good preparation.’ The chemist was a middle-aged man of a chatty disposition. ‘You’ll find them very efficacious.’

‘Miss Arundell used to take them, I remember. Miss Emily Arundell.’

‘Indeed she did, sir. Miss Arundell of Littlegreen House. A fine old lady, one of the old school. I used to serve her.’

‘Did she take many patent medicines [483] patent medicine – готовое лекарство (продающееся без рецепта врача) ?’

‘Not really, sir. Not so many as some elderly ladies I could name. Miss Lawson, now, her companion, the one that’s come into all the money—’

Poirot nodded.

‘She was a one for this, that, and the other. Pills, lozenges, dyspepsia tablets, digestive mixtures, blood mixtures. Really enjoyed herself among the bottles.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘I wish there were more like her. People nowadays don’t take to medicines as they used. Still, we sell a lot of toilet preparations to make up for it.’

‘Did Miss Arundell take these Liver Capsules regularly?’

‘Yes, she’d been taking them for three months, I think, before she died.’

‘A relative of hers, a Dr Tanios, came in to have a mixture made up one day, didn’t he?’

‘Yes, of course, the Greek gentleman that married Miss Arundell’s niece. Yes, a very interesting mixture it was. One I’ve not previously become acquainted with.’

The man spoke as of a rare botanical trophy.

‘It makes a change sir, when you get something new. Very interesting combination of drugs, I remember. Of course, the gentleman is a doctor. Very nice he was—a pleasant way with him.’

‘Did his wife do any shopping here?’

‘Did she now? I don’t recall. Oh, yes, came in for a sleeping-draught [484] a sleeping-draught – снотворное —chloral it was, I remember. A double quantity the prescription was for. It’s always a little difficult for us with hypnotic drugs. You see, most doctors don’t prescribe much at a time [485] at a time – за один раз .’

‘Whose prescription was it?’

‘Her husband’s I think. Oh, of course, it was quite all right —but, you know, we have to be careful nowadays. Perhaps you don’t know the fact, but if a doctor makes a mistake in a prescription and we make it up in all good faith and anything goes wrong it’s we who have to take the blame [486] to take the blame – принимать вину на себя —not the doctor.’

‘That seems very unfair!’

‘It’s worrying, I’ll admit. Ah, well, I can’t complain. No trouble has come my way—touching wood [487] touching wood – тьфу-тьфу-тьфу .’

He rapped the counter sharply with his knuckles.

Poirot decided to buy a package of Dr Loughbarrow’s Liver Capsules.

‘Thank you, sir. Which size? 25, 50, 100?’

‘I suppose the larger ones are better value—but still—’

‘Have the 50, sir. That’s the size Miss Arundell had. Eight and six.’

Poirot agreed, paid over eight and six and received the parcel.

Then we left the shop.

‘So Mrs Tanios bought a sleeping-draught,’ I exclaimed as we got out into the street. ‘An overdose of that would kill anyone, wouldn’t it?’

‘With the greatest of ease.’

‘Do you think old Miss Arundell—’

I was remembering Miss Lawson’s words, ‘I dare say she’d murder someone if he told her to! ’

Poirot shook his head.

‘Chloral is a narcotic, and a hypnotic. Used to alleviate pain and as a sleeping-draught. It can also become a habit.’

‘Do you think Mrs Tanios had acquired the habit?’

Poirot shook his head perplexedly.

‘No, I hardly think so. But it is curious. I can think of one explanation. But that would mean—’

He broke off and looked at his watch.

‘Come, let us see if we can find this Nurse Carruthers who was with Miss Arundell in her last illness.’

Nurse Carruthers proved to be a sensible-looking, middle-aged woman.

Poirot now appeared in yet another role and with one more fictitious relative. This time he had an aged mother for whom he was anxious to find a sympathetic hospital nurse.