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

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‘These are the lodge gates here,’ I said.

‘Thank you, mister.’ He paused, and then added, quite unnecessarily, ‘I’m a stranger in these parts, you see.’

He went on, passing through the gates as I turned to look after him. The odd thing was that his voice reminded me of someone’s voice that I knew, but whose it was I could not think.

Ten minutes later I was at home once more. Caroline was full of curiosity to know why I had returned so early. I had to make up a slightly fictitious account of the evening in order to satisfy her, and I had an uneasy feeling that she saw through the transparent device.

At ten o’clock I rose, yawned, and suggested bed. Caroline acquiesced.

It was friday night, and on friday night I wind the clocks. I did it as usual, whilst Caroline satisfied herself that the servants had locked up the kitchen properly.

It was a quarter past ten as we went up the stairs. I had just reached the top when the telephone rang in the hall below.

‘Mrs Bates,’ said Caroline immediately.