Читать книгу The Murder of Roger Ackroyd / Убийство Роджера Экройда онлайн

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‘You’re sure you shut the window?’ he said.

‘Quite sure,’ I said, surprised. ‘Why?’

‘All this evening I’ve had a queer feeling of being watched, spied upon. What’s that – ’

He turned sharply. So did I. We both had the impression of hearing the latch of the door give ever so slightly. I went across to it and opened it. There was no one there.

‘Nerves,’ murmured Ackroyd to himself. He unfolded the thick sheets of paper, and read aloud in a low voice.

‘My dear, my very dear Roger, – A life calls for a life. I see that – I saw it in your face this afternoon. So I am taking the only road open to me. I leave to you the punishment of the person who has made my life a hell upon earth for the last year. I would not tell you the name, this afternoon, but I propose to write it to you now. I have no children or near relations to be spared, so do not fear publicity. If you can, Roger, my very dear Roger, forgive me the wrong I meant to do you, since when the time came, I could not do it after all…’