The Murder of Roger Ackroyd / Убийство Роджера Экройда

Just then Ackroyd’s secretary, a pleasant young fellow by the name of Raymond, passed through the hall on his way to Ackroyd’s study, his hands full of papers.

‘Good evening, doctor. Coming to dine? Or is this a professional call?’

The last was in allusion to my black bag which I had laid down on the oak chest.

I explained that I expected a summons to a confinement case at any moment, and so had come out prepared for an emergency call. Raymond nodded, and went on his way, calling over his shoulder:

‘Go into the drawing-room.

you know the way. The ladies will be down in a minute. I must just take these papers to Mr Ackroyd, and I’ll tell him you’re here.’

On Raymond’s appearance Parker had withdrawn, so I was alone in the hall. I settled my tie, glanced in a large mirror which hung there, and crossed to the door directly facing me, which was, as I knew, the door of the drawing-room.

I noticed, just as I was turning the handle, a sound from within – the shutting down of a window, I took it to be.

I noticed it, I may say, quite mechanically, without attaching any importance to it at the time.

I opened the door and walked in. As I did so I almost collided with Miss Russell who was just coming out. We both apologized.

For the first time I found myself appraising the house-keeper and thinking what a handsome woman she must once have been – indeed, as far as that goes, still was. her dark hair was unstreaked with grey, and when she had a colour, as she had at this minute, the stern quality of her looks was not so apparent.

Quite subconsciously I wondered whether she had been out, for she was breathing hard, as though she had been running.

‘I’m afraid I’m a few minutes early,’ I said.

‘Oh! I don’t think so. It’s gone half-past seven, dr Sheppard.’ She paused a minute before saying, ‘I – didn’t know you were expected to dinner tonight. Mr Ackroyd didn’t mention it.

’

I received a vague impression that my dining there displeased her in some way, but I couldn’t imagine why.

‘How’s the knee?’ I inquired.

‘Much the same, thank you, doctor. I must be going now. Mrs Ackroyd will be down in a moment. I–I only came in here to see if the flowers were all right.’

She passed quickly out of the room. I strolled to the window, wondering at her evident desire to justify her presence in the room.