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

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I was startled by seeing the figure of Parker close at hand. he looked embarrassed, and it occurred to me that he might have been listening at the door.

What a fat, smug, oily face the man had, and surely there was something decidedly shifty in his eye.

‘Mr Ackroyd particularly does not want to be disturbed,’ I said coldly. ‘He told me to tell you so.’

‘Quite so, sir. I–I fancied I heard the bell ring.’

This was such a palpable untruth that I did not trouble to reply. Preceding me to the hall, Parker helped me on with my overcoat, and I stepped out into the night. The moon was overcast, and everything seemed very dark and still.

The village church clock chimed nine o’clock as I passed through the lodge gates. I turned to the left towards the village, and almost cannoned into a man coming in the opposite direction.

‘This the way to Fernly Park, mister?’ asked the stranger in a hoarse voice.

I looked at him. he was wearing a hat pulled down over his eyes, and his coat collar turned up. I could see little or nothing of his face, but he seemed a young fellow. The voice was rough and uneducated.