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

‘He found me last night.’

‘Oh! I wish I’d been there.’

‘I wish you had, mademoiselle,’ said Poirot gallantly.

Miss Peabody laughed and prepared to waddle away. She addressed me over her shoulder.

‘Goodbye, young man. Don’t you go buying those chairs. They’re a fake.’

She moved off, chuckling.

‘That,’ said Poirot, ‘is a very clever old woman.’

‘Even although she did not admire your moustaches?’

‘Taste is one thing,’ said Poirot coldly. ‘Brains are another.’

We passed into the shop and spent a pleasant twenty minutes looking round. We emerged unscathed in pocket and proceeded in the direction of Littlegreen House.

Ellen, rather redder in the face than usual, admitted us and showed us into the drawing-room. Presently footsteps were heard descending the stairs and Miss Lawson came in. She seemed somewhat out of breath and flustered. Her hair was pinned up in a silk handkerchief.

‘I hope you’ll excuse my coming in like this, M. Poirot. I’ve been going through some locked-up cupboards—so many things—old people are inclined to hoard a little, I’m afraid—dear Miss Arundell was no exception—and one gets so much dust in one’s hair —astonishing, you know, the things people collect—if you can believe me, two dozen needlebooks—actually, two dozen.’

‘You mean that Miss Arundell had bought two dozen needlebooks?’

‘Yes, and put them away and forgot about them—and, of course, now the needles are all rusty—such a pity. She used to give them to the maids as Christmas presents.’

‘She was very forgetful—yes?’

‘Oh, very. Especially in the way of putting things away. Like a dog with a bone, you know. That’s what we used to call it between us. “Now don’t go and dog and bone it,” I used to say to her.’

She laughed and then producing a small handkerchief from her pocket suddenly began to sniff.

‘Oh, dear,’ she said tearfully. ‘It seems so dreadful of me to be laughing here.’

‘You have too much sensibility,’ said Poirot. ‘You feel things too much.’

‘That’s what my mother always used to say to me, M. Poirot. “You take things to heart [518] to take to heart – принимать близко к сердцу too much, Minnie,” she used to say. It’s a great drawback, M. Poirot, to be so sensitive. Especially when one has one’s living to get [519] to get living – зарабатывать на жизнь .’

‘Ah, yes, indeed, but that is all a thing of the past. You are now your own mistress. You can enjoy yourself—travel— you have absolutely no worries or anxieties.’

‘I suppose that’s true,’ said Miss Lawson, rather doubtfully.

‘Assuredly it is true. Now talking of Miss Arundell’s forgetfulness I see how it was that her letter to me never reached me for so long a time.’

He explained the circumstances of the finding of the letter. A red spot showed in Miss Lawson’s cheek. She said sharply:

‘Ellen should have told me ! To send that letter off to you without a word was great impertinence! She should have consulted me first. Great impertinence, I call it! Not one word did I hear about the whole thing. Disgraceful!’

‘Oh, my dear lady, I am sure it was done in all good faith [520] in good faith – с честными намерениями .’

‘Well, I think it was very peculiar myself! Very peculiar! Servants really do the oddest things. Ellen should have remembered that I am the mistress of the house now.’

She drew herself up, importantly.

‘Ellen was very devoted to her mistress, was she not?’ said Poirot.

‘Yes, I dare say, but that makes no difference. I should have been told !’

‘The important thing is—that I received the letter,’ said Poirot.

‘Oh, I agree that it’s no good making a fuss after things have happened, but all the same I think Ellen ought to be told that she mustn’t take it upon herself to do things without asking first!’

She stopped, a red spot on each cheekbone.

Poirot was silent for a minute, then he said:

‘You wanted to see me today? In what way can I be of service to you?’

Miss Lawson’s annoyance subsided as promptly as it had arisen. She began to be flustered and incoherent again.

‘Well, really—you see, I just wondered… Well, to tell the truth, M. Poirot, I arrived down here yesterday and, of course, Ellen told me you had been here, and I just wondered—well, as you hadn’t mentioned to me that you were coming—Well, it seemed rather odd —that I couldn’t see—’

‘You couldn’t see what I was doing down here?’ Poirot finished for her.

‘I—well—no, that’s exactly it. I couldn’t.’

She looked at him, flushed but inquiring.

‘I must make a little confession to you,’ said Poirot. ‘I have permitted you to remain under a misapprehension [521] to remain under misapprehension – пребывать в заблуждении , I am afraid. You assumed that the letter I received from Miss Arundell concerned itself with the question of a small sum of money, abstracted by—in all possibility—Mr Charles Arundell.’

Miss Lawson nodded.

‘But that, you see, was not the case… In fact, the first I heard of the stolen money was from you. Miss Arundell wrote to me on the subject of her accident.’

‘Her accident?’

‘Yes, she had a fall down the stairs, I understand.’

‘Oh, quite—quite—’ Miss Lawson looked bewildered. She stared vacantly at Poirot. She went on. ‘But—I’m sorry—I’m sure it’s very stupid of me—but why should she write to you? I understand—in fact, I think you said so—that you are a detective. You’re not a—a doctor, too? Or a faith healer [522] a faith healer – знахарь, лечащий при помощи молитв , perhaps?’

‘No, I am not a doctor—nor a faith healer. But, like the doctor, I concern myself sometimes with so-called accidental deaths.’

‘With accidental deaths?’

‘With so-called accidental deaths, I said. It is true that Miss Arundell did not die —but she might have died!’

‘Oh, dear me, yes, the doctor said so, but I don’t understand—’

Miss Lawson sounded still bewildered.

‘The cause of the accident was supposed to be the ball of the little Bob, was it not?’

‘Yes, yes, that was it. It was Bob’s ball.’

‘Oh, no, it was not Bob’s ball.’

‘But, excuse me, M. Poirot, I saw it there myself—as we all ran down.’

‘You saw it—yes, perhaps. But it was not the cause of the accident. The cause of the accident, Miss Lawson, was a dark-coloured thread stretched about a foot [523] 1 foot = 30,48 см above the top of the stairs !’

‘But—but a dog couldn’t—’

‘Exactly,’ said Poirot quickly. ‘A dog could not do that—he is not sufficiently intelligent—or, if you like, he is not sufficiently evil… A human being put that thread in position…’

Miss Lawson’s face had gone deadly white. She raised a shaking hand to her face.

‘Oh, M. Poirot—I can’t believe it—you don’t mean—but that is awful—really awful. You mean it was done on purpose [524] on purpose – намеренно ?’

‘Yes, it was done on purpose.’

‘But that’s dreadful. It’s almost like—like killing a person.’

‘If it had succeeded it would have been killing a person! In other words—it would have been murder!’