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По направлению к нулю. Агата Кристи
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Год выпуска 1944
isbn
Автор произведения Агата Кристи
Серия Суперинтендант Баттл
Издательство Эксмо
‘Uh…okay.’ This had all come as a bit of a jolt to her. Instead of the peace and quiet she’d been expecting, the chance to relax and get herself back together again after the trauma of the last few months, it was beginning to look as though her days would be filled with stuff she’d never done before.
She went into the covered run, leaving Matt to shut the door and prevent any attempted escapes. An immediate silence fell as the birds took in her presence.
‘Here you go,’ she said, scattering the corn around her, and within seconds she found herself surrounded by hens. Some even clambered over her feet to get to the grain. Gingerly, she took a step forward, but they ignored her and simply went on eating. She shot Matt a quick look of consternation and he grinned.
‘Problem?’ he asked, and she pulled a face.
‘What do I do now?’
He walked towards her and grasped her hand. ‘You just have to force your way through. Remember, you’re the one in charge here, not the hens.’
‘Hmm, if you say so.’
He was smiling as he pulled her out of the run and shut the door behind them. ‘They need to be back into the coop by nightfall. As long as their routine isn’t disturbed, things should go smoothly enough. They’re laying very well at the moment, so you’ll have a good supply of eggs.’
‘Oh, well, that’s a plus, I suppose.’
He sent her an amused glance. ‘That’s good. At least you’re beginning to look on the positive side.’
She gritted her teeth but stayed silent. Now he was patronising her. Her head was starting to ache, a throbbing beat pounding at her temples.
‘And the beehives?’ she asked. ‘What’s to be done with them?’
‘Not much, at this time of year. You just keep an eye on them to make sure everything’s all right and let them get on with making honey. Harvesting is done round about the end of August, beginning of September.’
‘You make it sound so easy. I guess I’ll have to find myself a book on beekeeping.’
‘I think Annie had several of those around the place.’
They made their way back to the house, and Saffi said quietly, ‘I should thank you for everything you’ve done here since my aunt died. I’d no idea the caretaking was so involved. You’ve managed to keep this place going, and I’m very grateful to you for that.’
‘Well, I suppose I had a vested interest.’ She frowned. ‘You did?’
He nodded. ‘Your aunt made me a beneficiary of her will. Didn’t your solicitor tell you about it?’
She stared at him. ‘No. At least, I don’t think so.’ She searched her mind for details of her conversations with the solicitor. There had been several over the last few weeks, and maybe he’d mentioned something about another beneficiary. She’d assumed he meant there was a small bequest to a friend or neighbour.
The throbbing in her temple was clouding her thinking. ‘He said he didn’t want to bother me with all the details because of my problems since the accident.’
He looked at her quizzically and she added briefly, ‘Headaches and so on. I had a short attention span for a while, and I can be a bit forgetful at times…but I’m much better now. I feel as though I’m on the mend.’
‘I’m sure you are. You seem fairly clear-headed to me.’
‘I’m glad you think so.’ She studied him. ‘So, what exactly did you inherit…a sum of money, a share in the proceeds from the livestock…the tools in the garden store?’ She said it in a light-hearted manner, but it puzzled her as to what her aunt could have left him.
‘Uh…it was a bit more than that, actually.’ He looked a trifle uneasy, and perhaps that was because he’d assumed she’d known all about it in advance. But then he seemed to throw off any doubts he might have had and said briskly, ‘Come on, I’ll show you.’
He went to the end extension of the property and unlocked a separate front door, standing back and waving her inside.
Saffi stared about her in a daze. ‘But this is…I didn’t notice this before…’ She was completely taken aback by this new discovery. She was standing in a beautifully furnished living room, and through an archway she glimpsed what looked like a kitchen-diner, fitted out with golden oak units.
‘Originally, the house was one large, complete family home, but your aunt had some alterations made,’ he said. ‘There’s a connecting door to your part of the house and another upstairs. They’re locked, so we’ll be completely separate—you’ll have a key amongst those I gave you.’
She looked at the connecting door, set unobtrusively into an alcove in the living room.
‘I’ll show you the rest of the house,’ he said, indicating an open staircase in the corner of the room.
She followed him up the stairs, her mind reeling under this new, stunning revelation. No wonder she’d thought there was something missing from the upper floor when he’d taken her to look around. The missing portion was right here, in the form of a good-sized bedroom and bathroom.
‘You’re very quiet,’ he murmured.
‘I’m trying to work out how this came about,’ she said in a soft voice. ‘You’re telling me that my aunt left this part of the house to you?’
‘She did. I’d no idea that she had written it into her will or that she planned to do it. She didn’t mention it to me. Does it bother you?’
‘I think it does, yes.’
It wasn’t that she wanted it for herself. Heaven forbid, she hadn’t even remembered this house existed until her solicitor had brought it to her attention. But her aunt couldn’t have known this man very long—by his own account he’d only been in the area for a few months. And yet she’d left him a sizeable property. How had that come about?
All at once she needed to be on her own so that she could think things through. ‘I should go,’ she said. ‘I think I need time to take this in. But…thanks for showing me around.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He went with her down the stairs. ‘Any time you need me, Saffi, I’ll be here.’
She nodded. That was certainly true. His presence gave a new meaning to the words ‘next-door neighbour’.
She’d come here expecting to find herself in a rural hideout, well away from anyone and anything, so that she might finally recuperate from the devastating head injury that had left her without any knowledge of family or friends. And none of it was turning out as she’d hoped.
Matt had seemed such a charming, likeable man, but wasn’t that the way of all confidence tricksters? How could she know what to think?
Her instincts had been all over the place since the accident, and perhaps she was letting that trauma sour her judgement. Ever since she’d woken up in hospital she’d had the niggling suspicion that all was not as it seemed as far as her fall was concerned.
She’d done what she could to put that behind her, but now the question was, could she put her trust in Matt, who seemed so obliging? What could have convinced her aunt to leave him such a substantial inheritance?
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