"DERLETH, August - The Adventure of the Three Red Dwarves (A Solar Pons story)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Derleth August)

"Mr. Brighton, I take it?" said Pons dryly.

"Yes, yes, certainly," replied Brighton in a nervous, jerky voice. "I suppose you would like to see the body at once." Then, without giving Pons time to answer, he turned and led the way quickly into the house through the French doors which were thrown open on the terrace.

Jamison had given us an idea of the position of the body. We saw it now, with a sheet covering it, and beside it stood a constable on guard. Pons nodded silently to the constable, and bent to pull the sheet from Lane's body. The young, fair-haired man lay as Jamison had described him, partly on his side, partly on his back, his right arm flung out, his left turned in toward the body, indicating in its direction the stiletto in the body. Pons looked searchingly at the corpse, throwing an occasional glance at the French doors, through which the murderer might have entered. Then he bent to scrutinize the two bruises of which Jamison had spoken, one on the head, the other on the left wrist, but at last he rose from his crouching position and re-covered the body. He stepped carefully away from the blood-stained floor and turned upon the bespectacled author, whose sharp eyes had followed Pons' every move.

"Was Mr. Lane left-handed?" Pons asked abruptly.

"Yes--yes, anyone can tell you," replied Brighton in a breathless voice.

Pons nodded abstractedly and continued, "I understand that you were in the garden prior to your discovery of the body. You were not aware that Mr. Lane was in the house?"

Brighton shook his head. "I had no idea Gerald had returned."

"You heard and saw nothing, then?"

"No. If you care to verify, you'll see that the greater part of the garden extends to the rear of the house, out of sight of the terrace. I was at the extreme end of the garden and neither saw nor heard anything unusual."

"Nothing unusual," repeated Pons. "Did you hear anything usual? Some familiar sound or sounds that struck you, but which you were able to accept unconsciously?"

Brighton appeared to think. "Why, yes, now that you put it that way. There was a peculiar sloshy sound--as if someone were washing something with a soggy rag, slapping the rag against some surface. Sort of a dull sound, accompanied occasionally by the sound of running water. This lasted for some length of time, and ceased only when I entered the house."

"What did you think it was?"

"I assumed that one of the neighbors was washing something--their homes are not so very far away--or that Gerald had returned. It did not strike me that the sound was continual for over an hour, but it must have been, for I remember hearing it but at the same time not noticing it during my work. I heard it, too, when I entered the house."

"Quite so. And what time was it when you entered the house?"

"I think it was just about noon. I couldn't say exactly, but it was between a quarter of twelve and noon."

"Now tell us just what you did when you discovered the body," suggested Pons.

Brighton stuck his hands deep into his pockets. "Of course," he began, "I was deeply shocked, more than I can say. Gerald and I have been living together for six months, and we had become quite attached to each other."

"You found the body at noon," Pons cut in. "Exactly what did you do?"

"I called Scotland Yard at once," replied Brighton in an injured voice which Pons affected not to notice.

"Very good," interrupted Pons again. "You called the Yard, and Jamison responded. I daresay it took the Yard some time to get Jamison out here--what did you do in the meantime?"

Brighton hesitated; his face began to color slightly. "Well, Mr. Pons, it was a funny thing. The sight of Gerald dead there on the floor simply bowled me over. I was so nervous--I am very nervous, you will have noticed--and I was very much upset. After I had called the Yard, I tried to collect my thoughts, and out of everything, one thought stood out."

"And that?"

"Two days ago Gerald had expressed a wish that three dwarf figures which he had procured in Germany should be colored for him--he wanted them a cardinal red; now, this thought came to me again and again, and what I ended up in doing was to paint those figures. They're out in the kitchen now. I painted them--I was just finishing when Mr. Jamison came, as he can tell you."

"And these figures," said Pons, "where were they standing?"

Brighton indicated a mantel above a fireplace across from the open french doors. "They were on that mantel."