"Bruce, Leo - Cold Blood" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bruce Leo)

Dunton pulled on some clothes and hurried out. In a few minutes he saw a man walking from the direction of the house. He concealed himself, intending to surprise and catch the visitor, but when he approached Dunton saw that it was Rudolf Ducrow. He hailed him and Rudolf appeared "very startled and upset" and hurried into his home.

At eight o'clock next morning Dunton found the body of Cosmo Ducrow lying beside a stone near the croquet lawn. The back of his head was crushed, and beside him lay the croquet mallet which had, according to expert opinion, been used to give him three or four terrible blows. Rudolf's finger prints were on this weapon.

When Beef had read the newspaper account which embodied most of these facts he thoughtfully sucked his moustache.

"Now, if this was one of the cases that you fellows write about," he said, "it would turn out not to be the nephew at all. But real life's different. How often do you get a string of suspects in real life?"

"I don't know, because by the time we come to read about a case all the suspects not in the running have been eliminated and only the man whom the police believe guilty is being tried."

"Quite right," admitted Beef. "In real life it's usually one of three things. The police haven't a notion and cannot connect anyone special with the crime. Or the murderer is pretty obvious from the first. Or there is not enough evidence. But there aren't many cases when it might be one of a dozen people and the investigator has to decide which is guilty."

"Which of your three do you think the Ducrow case is?"

"Looks pretty obvious, doesn't it? Unless there are things we know nothing about."

It did look pretty obvious, and for the next few days I, in common with most newspaper readers in England, expected to hear of the arrest of Rudolf Ducrow on a charge of murdering his uncle. But the case soon dropped from the front page and no arrest was recorded. I myself began to lose interest and to look elsewhere for a new opening for Beef and me.

It was time Beef tackled another case, and one, I hoped, which would gain for him the sort of recognition which was given to his more aristocratic competitors. How many times in the past had I wished that I had devoted my talents as an investigator's chronicler to someone less crude and homely in appearance, someone with more savoir faire, someone of the haute monde. I recognized now that it was too late to look for this and that; for good or ill my old friend would continue to be the subject of these memoirs. But as I have explained elsewhere, I myself am of the professional classes - 1 make no higher claim - a public schoolboy, educated as a matter of fact at St. Lawrence College, Ramsgate, and there are times when it seems that Beef will never rise above the level of a public bar. I therefore hoped that the next case to engage us would at least take us to a higher milieu.

The Ducrow case would have done that, I reflected. Rudolf's wife was a daughter of Lord Dunborrow, and Hokestones was quite a famous country house. But if this was not to be, at least I hoped that we should not be engaged on some sordid case which took us to slums and tenements. One morning Beef rang me up. "This looks like it," he said cryptically.

"What looks like what?" I asked, restraining my curiosity.

"A case for me."

"For us," I corrected.

"For me, but I daresay you can write it up if this new publisher of yours will take it."

I swallowed.

"If you imagine ..." I began angrily.

"Never mind. Listen to this. It's important. I'm being called in on the Ducrow case. Theo Gray is coming to see me today."

"Where?"

"What do you mean 'where'? At my home, of course."

A picture rose in my mind of Beef's little house in Lilac Crescent, one of a dingy row of cottages chosen because they were not far from Baker Street. I remembered the ridiculous brass plate he had set up: "W. Beef, Investigations". I wondered what a man like Theo Gray would make of that.

"Couldn't you have arranged to meet at my flat?" I asked.

"Certainly not. He's coming at four o'clock, so if you're interested you'd better be round before then."

I agreed and hung up. At least, I thought, Beef would have a case.

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