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

‘We’ll say so in court if you like—if you think that’s the best lie to tell! Actually I’m quite sure that nothing like that happened! It’s a pretty idea that somebody framed me—but I don’t think it’s true.’

Poirot frowned. Then he got up, attached the brooch carefully to his coat lapel and approached a mirror on a table at the other end of the room. He stood in front of it and then moved slowly backward, getting an effect of distance.

Then he uttered a grunt.

‘Imbecile that I am! Of course!’

He came back and handed the brooch to Theresa with a bow.

‘You are quite right, mademoiselle. The brooch did not leave your possession! I have been regrettably dense.’

‘I do like modesty,’ said Theresa, pinning the brooch on carelessly.

She looked up at him.

‘Anything more? I ought to be going.’

‘Nothing that cannot be discussed later.’

Theresa moved towards the door. Poirot went on in a quiet voice:

‘There is a question of exhumation, it is true—’

Theresa stopped dead [552] to stop dead – резко остановиться . The brooch fell to the ground.

‘What’s that?’

Poirot said clearly:

‘It is possible that the body of Miss Emily Arundell may be exhumed.’

Theresa stood still, her hands clenched. She said in a low, angry voice:

‘Is this your doing? It can’t be done without an application from the family!’

‘You are wrong, mademoiselle. It can be done on an order from the Home Office.’

‘My God!’ said Theresa.

She turned and walked swiftly up and down [553] to walk up and down – ходить взад-вперед .

Donaldson said quietly:

‘I really don’t see that there is any need to be upset, Tessa. I dare say that to an outsider the idea is not very pleasant, but—’

She interrupted him.

‘Don’t be a fool, Rex!’

Poirot asked:

‘The idea disturbs you, mademoiselle?’

‘Of course it does! It isn’t decent. Poor old Aunt Emily. Why the devil should she be exhumed?’

‘I presume,’ said Donaldson, ‘that there is some doubt as to the cause of death?’ He looked inquiringly at Poirot. He went on. ‘I confess that I am surprised. I think that there is no doubt that Miss Arundell died a natural death from a disease of long standing.’

‘You told me something about a rabbit and liver trouble once,’ said Theresa. ‘I’ve forgotten it now, but you infect a rabbit with blood from a person with yellow atrophy of the liver, and then you inject that rabbit’s blood into another rabbit, and then that second rabbit’s blood into a person and the person gets a diseased liver. Something like that.’

‘That was merely an illustration of serum therapeutics,’ said Donaldson patiently.

‘Pity there are so many rabbits in the story!’ said Theresa with a reckless laugh. ‘None of us keep rabbits.’ She turned on Poirot and her voice altered.

‘M. Poirot, is this true ?’ she asked.

‘It is true enough, but—there are ways of avoiding such a contingency, mademoiselle.’

‘Then avoid it!’ her voice sank almost to a whisper. It was urgent, compelling. ‘Avoid it at all costs !’

Poirot rose to his feet.

‘Those are your instructions?’ His voice was formal.

‘Those are my instructions.’

‘But Tessa—’ Donaldson interrupted.

She whirled round on her fiance.

‘Be quiet! She was my aunt, wasn’t she? Why should my aunt be dug up? Don’t you know there will be paragraphs in the papers and gossip and general unpleasantness?’ She swung round again on Poirot.

‘You must stop it! I give you carte blanche. Do anything you like, but stop it !’

Poirot bowed formally.

‘I will do what I can. Au revoir , mademoiselle , au revoir , doctor.’

‘Oh, go away!’ cried Theresa. ‘And take St Leonards with you. I wish I’d never set eyes on either of you.’

We left the room. Poirot did not this time deliberately place his ear to the crack but he dallied—yes, he dallied.

And not in vain. Theresa’s voice rose clear and defiant:

‘Don’t look at me like that, Rex.’

And then suddenly, with a break in her voice—‘Darling.’

Dr Donaldson’s precise voice answered her.

He said very clearly:

‘That man means mischief.’

Poirot grinned suddenly. He drew me through the front door.

‘Come, St Leonards,’ he said. ‘ C’est drôle, ça! [554] C’est drôle, ça! – (фр.) Это смешно! ’

Personally I thought the joke a particularly stupid one.

No, I thought, as I hurried after Poirot, there was no doubt about it now. Miss Arundell had been murdered and Theresa knew it. But was she herself the criminal or was there another explanation?

She was afraid—yes. But was she afraid for herself or for someone else? Could that someone be the quiet, precise young doctor with the calm, aloof manner?

Had the old lady died of genuine disease artificially induced [555] artificially induced – искусственно вызванный ?

Up to a point [556] Up to a point – В определенной степени it all fitted in—Donaldson’s ambitions, his belief that Theresa would inherit money at her aunt’s death. Even the fact that he had been at dinner there on the evening of the accident. How easy to leave a convenient window open and return in the dead of night [557] in the dead of night – глубокой ночью to tie the murderous thread across the staircase. But then, what about the placing of the nail in position?

No, Theresa must have done that. Theresa, his fiancee and accomplice. With the two of them working in together, the whole thing seemed clear enough. In that case it was probably Theresa who had actually placed the thread in position. The first crime, the crime that failed, had been her work. The second crime, the crime that had succeeded, was Donaldson’s more scientific masterpiece.

Yes—it all fitted in.

Yet even now there were loose strands. Why had Theresa blurted out those facts about inducing liver disease in human beings? It was almost as though she did not realize the truth… But in that case—and I felt my mind growing bewildered, and I interrupted my speculations to ask:

‘Where are we going, Poirot?’

‘Back to my flat. It is possible that we may find Mrs Tanios there.’

My thoughts switched off on a different track.

Mrs Tanios! That was another mystery! If Donaldson and Theresa were guilty, where did Mrs Tanios and her smiling husband come in? What did the woman want to tell Poirot and what was Tanios’ anxiety to prevent her doing so?

‘Poirot,’ I said humbly. ‘I’m getting rather muddled [558] to get muddled – запутаться . They’re not all in it, are they?’

‘Murder by a syndicate? A family syndicate? No, not this time. There is the mark of one brain and one brain only in this. The psychology is very clear.’

‘You mean that either Theresa or Donaldson did it—but not both of them? Did he get her to hammer that nail in on some entirely innocent pretext, then?’

‘My dear friend, from the moment I heard Miss Lawson’s story I realized that there were three possibilities. (1) That Miss Lawson was telling the exact truth. (2) That Miss Lawson had invented the story for reasons of her own. (3) That Miss Lawson actually believed her own story, but that her identification rested upon the brooch—and as I have already pointed out to you—a brooch is easily detachable from its owner.’