Агата Кристи - Hercule Poirot's Christmas / Рождество Эркюля Пуаро. Книга для чтения на английском языке

There, Mrs Alfred was getting up now. She swept round the table. Very nice that design on the taffeta; that cape suited her. A very graceful lady.

He went out to the pantry, closing the dining-room door on the gentlemen with their port.

He took the coffee tray into the drawing-room. The four ladies were sitting there rather uncomfortably, he thought. They were not talking. He handed round the coffee in silence.

He went out again. As he went into his pantry he heard the dining-room door open. David Lee came out and went along the hall to the drawing-room.

Tressilian went back into his pantry. He read the riot act [122] read the riot act – ( разг. ) устроил нагоняй to Walter. Walter was nearly, if not quite, impertinent! Tressilian, alone in his pantry, sat down rather wearily. He had a feeling of depression. Christmas Eve, and all this strain and tension… He didn’t like it!

With an effort he roused himself. He went to the drawing-room and collected the coffee-cups. The room was empty except for Lydia, who was standing half-concealed by the window curtain at the far end of the room. She was standing there looking out into the night.

From next door the piano sounded. Mr David was playing. But why, Tressilian asked himself, did Mr David play the Dead March ? For that’s what it was. Oh, indeed things were very wrong [123] indeed things were very wrong – ( зд. ) что-то было очень неправильно .

He went slowly along the hall and back into his pantry. It was then he first heard the noise from overhead: a crashing of china, the overthrowing of furniture, a series of cracks and bumps.

‘Good gracious!’ thought Tressilian. ‘Whatever is the master doing? What’s happening up there?’

And then, clear and high, came a scream – a horrible high wailing scream that died away in a choke or gurgle.

Tressilian stood there a moment paralysed, then he ran out into the hall and up the broad staircase. Others were with him. That scream had been heard all over the house.

They raced up the stairs and round the bend, past a recess with statues gleaming white and eerie, and along the straight passage to Simeon Lee’s door. Mr Farr was there already and Mrs David. She was leaning back against the wall and he was twisting at the door handle.

‘The door’s locked,’ he was saying. ‘The door’s locked!’

Harry Lee pushed past and wrested it from him. He, too, turned and twisted at the handle. ‘Father,’ he shouted. ‘Father, let us in.’

He held up his hand and in the silence they all listened. There was no answer. No sound from inside the room.

The front door bell rang, but no one paid any attention to it.

Stephen Farr said: ‘We’ve got to break the door down. It’s the only way.’

Harry said: ‘That’s going to be a tough job. These doors are good solid stuff. Come on, Alfred.’

They heaved and strained. Finally they went and got an oak bench and used it as a battering-ram. The door gave at last. Its hinges splintered and the door sank shuddering from its frame.

For a minute they stood there huddled together looking in. What they saw was a sight that no one of them ever forgot…

There had clearly been a terrific struggle. Heavy furniture was overturned. China vases lay splintered on the floor. In the middle of the hearthrug in front of the blazing fire lay Simeon Lee in a great pool of blood… Blood was splashed all round. The place was like a shambles.

There was a long shuddering sigh, and then two voices spoke in turn. Strangely enough, the words they uttered were both quotations.

David Lee said: ‘The mills of God grind slowly [124] The mills of God grind slowly – цитата из Секста Эмпирика (к. II – н. III в., древнегреческого философа), перешедшая в поговорку: Мельницы богов движутся медленно, но смалывают в пыль; перен . возмездие неизбежно …’

Lydia’s voice came like a fluttering whisper: ‘Who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? [125] Who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? – цит. из «Макбета» В. Шекспира (акт 5, сц. 1) …’

Superintendent Sugden had rung the bell three times. Finally, in desperation, he pounded on the knocker.

A scared Walter at length opened the door. ‘Oo-er,’ he said. A look of relief came over his face. ‘I was just ringing up the police.’

‘What for?’ said Superintendent Sugden sharply. ‘What’s going on here?’

Walter whispered: ‘It’s old Mr Lee. He’s been done in [126] He’s been done in – ( разг. ) Его укокошили … ’

The superintendent pushed past him and ran up the stairs. He came into the room without anyone being aware of his entrance [127] without anyone being aware of his entrance – ( разг. ) никто не обратил на него внимания . As he entered he saw Pilar bend forward and pick up something from the floor. He saw David Lee standing with his hands over his eyes.

He saw the others huddled into a little group. Alfred Lee alone had stepped near his father’s body. He stood now quite close, looking down. His face was blank [128] was blank – ( разг. ) ничего не выражало .

George Lee was saying importantly:

‘Nothing must be touched – remember that – nothing – till the police arrive. That is most important!’

‘Excuse me,’ said Sugden. He pushed his way forward, gently thrusting the ladies aside. Alfred Lee recognized him.

‘Ah,’ he said. ‘It’s you, Superintendent Sugden. You’ve got here very quickly.’

‘Yes, Mr Lee.’ Superintendent Sugden did not waste time on explanations. ‘What’s all this?’

‘My father,’ said Alfred Lee, ‘has been killed – murdered…’ His voice broke.

Magdalene began suddenly to sob hysterically.

Superintendent Sugden held up a large official hand. He said authoritatively: ‘Will everybody kindly leave the room except Mr Lee and – er – Mr George Lee?…’

They moved slowly towards the door, reluctantly, like sheep. Superintendent Sugden intercepted Pilar suddenly.

‘Excuse me, miss,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Nothing must be touched or disturbed.’

She stared at him. Stephen Farr said impatiently: ‘Of course not. She understands that.’

Superintendent Sugden said, still in the same pleasant manner: ‘You picked up something from the floor just now?’

Pilar’s eyes opened. She stared and said incredulously: ‘I did?’

Superintendent Sugden was still pleasant. His voice was just a little firmer. ‘Yes, I saw you…’

‘Oh!’

‘So please give it to me. It’s in your hand now.’

Slowly Pilar unclosed her hand. There lay in it a wisp of rubber and a small object made of wood. Superintendent Sugden took them, enclosed them in an envelope and put them away in his breast pocket. He said: ‘Thank you.’

He turned away. Just for a minute Stephen Farr’s eyes showed a startled respect. It was as though he had underestimated the large handsome superintendent.

They went slowly out of the room. Behind them they heard the superintendent’s voice saying officially: ‘And now, if you please…’

‘Nothing like [129] Nothing like – ( разг. ) Нет ничего лучше a wood fire,’ said Colonel Johnson as he threw on an additional log and then drew his chair nearer to the blaze. ‘Help yourself,’ he added, hospitably calling attention to the tantalus and siphon that stood near his guest’s elbow.