Death on the Nile / Смерть на Ниле. Агата КристиЧитать онлайн книгу.
overlooking Central Park in New York, Mrs Robson exclaimed: “You really are the luckiest girl, Cornelia.”
Cornelia Robson flushed. She was a big clumsy-looking girl with brown doglike eyes.
“Oh, it will be wonderful!” she gasped.
Old Miss Van Schuyler was satisfied with this correct attitude of poor relations.
“I've always dreamed of a trip to Europe,” sighed Cornelia, “but I just didn't feel I'd ever get there.”
“Miss Bowers will come with me as usual, of course,” said Miss Van Schuyler, “but as a social companion I find her limited – very limited. There are many little things that Cornelia can do for me.”
“I'd just love to, Cousin Marie,” said Cornelia eagerly.
“Well, well, then that's settled,” said Miss Van Schuyler. “Just run and find Miss Bowers, my dear. It's time for my eggnog.”
Cornelia left. Her mother said: “My dear Marie, I'm really most grateful to you! You know I think Cornelia suffers a lot from not being a social success. If I could afford to take her to places – but you know how it's been since Ned died.”
“I'm very glad to take her,” said Miss Van Schuyler. “Cornelia has always been a nice handy girl, willing to run errands, and not so selfish as some of these young people nowadays.”
Mrs Robson rose and kissed her rich relative's wrinkled face.
“I'm just ever so grateful,” she declared.
On the stairs she met a tall capable looking woman who was carrying a glass containing a yellow foamy liquid.
“Well, Miss Bowers, so you're off to Europe?”
“Why, yes, Mrs Robson.”
“What a lovely trip!”
“Why, yes, I should think it would be very enjoyable.”
“But you've been abroad before?”
“Oh, yes, Mrs Robson. I went over to Paris with Miss Van Schuyler last fall. But I've never been to Egypt before.”
Mrs Robson hesitated.
“I do hope – there won't be any – trouble.”
She had lowered her voice. Miss Bowers, however, replied in her usual tone:
“Oh, no, Mrs Robson; I shall take good care of that. I keep a very sharp look-out always.[49]”
But there was still a faint shadow on Mrs Robson's face as she slowly continued down the stairs.
Chapter 9
In his office down town Mr Andrew Pennington was opening his personal mail. Suddenly his fist clenched itself and came down on his desk with a bang; his face crimsoned and two big veins stood out on his forehead. He pressed a buzzer on his desk and a smart looking stenographer appeared. “Tell Mr Rockford to step in here.”
“Yes, Mr Pennington.”
A few minutes later, Stemdale Rockford, Pennington's partner, entered the office.
“ What's up, Pennington?”
Pennington looked up from the letter he was re-reading.
He said, “Linnet's married.”
“What?”
“You heard what I said! Linnet Ridgeway's married!”
“How? When? Why didn't we hear about it?”
Pennington glanced at the calendar on his desk.
“She wasn't married when she wrote this letter, but she's married now. Morning of the fourth. That's today.”
Rockford dropped into a chair.
“No warning? Nothing? Who's the man?”
Pennington referred again to the letter.
“Doyle. Simon Doyle.”
“What sort of a fellow is he? Ever heard of him?”
“No. She doesn't say much…” He scanned the lines of clear, upright handwriting. “Got an idea there's something hole-and-corner about the business.[50] That doesn't matter. The whole point is, she's married.”
The eyes of the two men met. Rockford nodded.
“This needs a bit of thinking out,” he said quietly.
“What are we going to do about it?”
The two men sat silent. Then Rockford asked, “Got any plan?”
Pennington said slowly: “The Normandie[51] sails today. One of us could just make it.[52]”
“You're crazy! What's the big idea?”
Pennington began, “Those British lawyers – ” and stopped.
“What about 'em? Surely you're not going over to tackle 'em? You're mad!”
“I'm not suggesting that you – or I – should go to England.”
“What's the big idea, then?”
Pennington smoothed out the letter on the table.
“Linnet's going to Egypt for her honeymoon. Expects to be there a month or more. Yes – a chance meeting. Over on a trip. Linnet and her husband – honeymoon atmosphere. It might be done.”
Rockford said doubtfully, “She's sharp, Linnet is… but – ”
Pennington went on softly, “I think there might be ways of managing it.”
Again their eyes met. Rockford nodded.
“All right, big boy.”
Pennington looked at the clock.
“We'll have to hustle – whichever of us is going.”
“You go,” said Rockford promptly. “You always made a hit with Linnet. 'Uncle Andrew.' That's the ticket![53]”
Pennington's face had hardened. He said, “I hope I can pull it off.”
“You've got to pull it off,” his partner said. “The situation's critical.”
Chapter 10
Mrs Otterbourne, with the turban of native material draped round her head, said fretfully:
“I really don't see why we shouldn't go on to Egypt. I'm sick and tired of Jerusalem.”
As her daughter made no reply, she said, “You might at least answer when you're spoken to.”
Rosalie Otterbourne was looking at a newspaper reproduction of a face. Below it was printed:
Mrs Simon Doyle, who before her marriage was the well-known society beauty, Miss Linnet Ridgeway. Mr and Mrs Doyle are spending their holiday in Egypt.
Rosalie said, “You'd like to move on to Egypt, Mother?”
“Yes, I would,” Mrs Otterbourne snapped. “I consider they've treated us in a most peculiar fashion here.
And this morning, the manager actually had the impertinence to tell me that all the rooms had been booked in advance and that he would require ours in two days' time.”
“So we've got to go somewhere.”
“Not at all. I'm quite prepared to fight for my rights.”
Rosalie murmured: “I suppose we might as well go on to Egypt. It doesn't make any difference.”
“It's certainly not a matter of life or death,” agreed Mrs Otterbourne.
But there she was quite wrong – for a matter of life and death was exactly what it was.
Part
Я всегда начеку.
Мне кажется, в этом деле не всё гладко.
Название парохода
Один из нас может успеть на него.
То, что надо!