Crooked House / Скрюченный домишко. Книга для чтения на английском языке

Two of the sons were killed in the last war. One daughter married and went to Australia and died there. An unmarried daughter was killed in a motor accident. Another died a year or two ago. There are two still living—the eldest son, Roger, who is married but has no children, and Philip, who married a well-known actress and has three children. Your Sophia, Eustace, and Josephine.’

�And they are all living at—what is it?—Three Gables?’

�Yes. The Roger Leonides were bombed out early in the war. Philip and his family have lived there since 1937.

And there’s an elderly aunt, Miss de Haviland, sister of the first Mrs Leonides. She always loathed her brother-in-law apparently, but when her sister died she considered it her duty to accept her brother-in-law’s invitation to live with him and bring up the children.’

�She’s very hot on duty,’ said Inspector Taverner. �But she’s not the kind that changes her mind about people. She always disapproved of Leonides and his methods—’

�Well,’ I said, �it seems a pretty good houseful.

Who do you think killed him?’

Taverner shook his head.

�Early days,’ he said, �early days to say that.’

�Come on, Taverner,’ I said. �I bet you think you know who did it. We’re not in court, man.’

�No,’ said Taverner gloomily. �And we never may be.’

�You mean he may not have been murdered?’

�Oh, he was murdered all right. Poisoned. But you know what these poisoning cases are like.

It’s very tricky getting the evidence. Very tricky. All the possibilities may point one way—’

�That’s what I’m trying to get at. You’ve got it all taped out in your mind, haven’t you?’

�It’s a case of very strong probability. It’s one of those obvious things. The perfect set-up. But I don’t know, I’m sure. It’s tricky.’

I looked appealingly at the Old Man.

He said slowly: �In murder cases, as you know, Charles, the obvious is usually the right solution.

Old Leonides married again, ten years ago.’

�When he was seventy-seven?’

�Yes, he married a young woman of twenty-four.’

I whistled.

�What sort of a young woman?’

�A young woman out of a tea-shop. A perfectly respectable young woman—good-looking in an anemic, apathetic sort of way.’

�And she’s the strong probability?’

�I ask you, sir,’ said Taverner. �She’s only thirty-four now—and that’s a dangerous age.