Т. Шелкова - Can You Speak Over the Telephone. Как вести беседу по телефону

Mr Hendricks: Who said she drowned, Mr Foote? May be she went for a walk.

Mr Foote: Stark naked at one in the morning? Have you had any reports about a woman walking around naked?

Mr Hendricks: No, Mr Foote, not yet. But once the summer season starts, you never know what to expect. Color of hair and eyes?

Mr Foote: Her hair is… oh, dirty blond, I guess. Sandy, I don’t know what color her eyes are. I’ll have to ask her date. No, he says he doesn’t know either. Let’s say hazel.

Mr Hendricks: Okay, Mr Foote. We’ll get on it. As soon as we find out anything, we’ll contact you.

There was a heavy silence in the elegant, spacious room. It was broken abruptly by the jangle of the telephone. They faced each other, neither attempting to answer. The muscles of the Duke’s face jerked spasmodically. The bell sounded again, then stopped. Through intervening doors they heard the voice of the secretary indistinctly, answering on an extension. A moment later the secretary knocked and came in diffidently. He glanced towards the Duke. “Your Grace, it’s one of the local newspapers. They say that they have had” — he hesitated at an unfamiliar term — “a flash bulletin which appears to concern you.”

With an effort the Duchess recovered her pose. “I will take the call. Hang up the extension.” She picked up the telephone near her. Only a close observer would have noticed that her hands were trembling.

Duchess: The Duchess of Croydon speaking.

Correspondent: Ma’am, we’ve a flash from Associated Press and there’s just been a follow-up… Pardon me. (There was a rustle of paper, then the voice resuming.) Sorry, ma’am. I’ll read this to you. “ London (AP) — Parliamentary sources here to-day name the Duke of Croydon, noted British government trouble shooter[145], as Britain’s next ambassador to Washington. Initial reaction is favourable. An official announcement is expected soon.” There’s more, ma’am. I won’t bother you with it. Why we called was to see if your husband has a statement, then with your permission we’d like to send a photographer to the hotel. Ma’am, are you still there?

Duchess: Yes. At the moment my husband has no statement, nor will he have unless and until the appointment is officially confirmed. The same applies to photography.

Correspondent (the voice sounded disappointed): We’ll run what we have[146], of course, in the next edition.

Duchess: That is your privilege.

Correspondent: Meanwhile, if there’s an official announcement we’d like to be in touch.

Duchess: Should that occur, I’m sure my husband will be glad to meet the press.

Correspondent: Then we may telephone again?

Duchess: Please do.

After lunch, as Poirot was settling himself in his square-backed armchair with his coffee at his elbow, the telephone rang.

Mrs Oliver: Monsieur Poirot?

Mr Poirot: C’est moi[147].

Mrs Oliver: Well, what are you doing? What have you done?

Mr Poirot: I am sitting in this chair. Thinking.

Mrs Oliver: Is that all?

Mr Poirot: It is the important thing. Whether I shall have success in it or not I do not know.

Mrs Oliver: But you must find that girl. She’s probably been kidnapped.

Mr Poirot: It would certainly seem so. And I have a letter here which came by the midday post from her father, urging me to come and see him and tell him what progress I have made.

Mrs Oliver: Well, what progress have you made?

Mr Poirot: At the moment none.

Mrs Oliver: Really, Monsieur Poirot, you really must take a grip on yourself[148].

Mr Poirot: You, too!

Mrs Oliver: What do you mean, me, too?

Mr Poirot: Urging me on.

Mrs Oliver: Why don’t you go down to that place in Chelsea where I was hit on the head?

Mr Poirot: And get myself hit on the head also?

Mrs Oliver: I simply don’t understand you. I gave you a clue by finding the girl in the cafe. You said so.

Mr Poirot: I know, I know.

Mrs Oliver: And then you go and lose her!

Mr Poirot: I know, I know.

Mrs Oliver: What about that woman who threw herself out of a window? Haven’t you got anything out of that?

Mr Poirot: I have made inquiries, yes.

Mrs Oliver: Well?

Mr Poirot: Nothing. The woman is one of many. They are attractive when young, they have affairs, they are passionate, they have still more affairs, they get less attractive, they are unhappy and drink too much, they think they have cancer or some fatal disease and so at last in despair and loneliness they throw themselves out of a window!

Mrs Oliver: You said her death was important — that it meant something.

Mr Poirot: It ought to have done.

Mrs Oliver: Really! (At a loss for further comment, Mrs Oliver rang off.)

Mr Clark: Mrs Henderson?

Mrs Henderson: Yes.

Mr Clark: Ma’am, my name is Ray Clark. I’m a friend of Mutt’s and Jiggs Casey’s. Jiggs gave me your phone number and told me to call when I got to town. I just missed Mutt in Washington.

Mrs Henderson: Oh, that’s too bad. Mutt got in late Monday, but he had to go right out to the base. I’m afraid he’ll be there through the weekend, too.

Mr Clark: Any way I can reach him?

Mrs Henderson (laughing): If you find out, please tell me. I don’t even know where it is.

Mr Clark: You mean you’ve never seen it?

Mrs Henderson: Well, he did show me the general direction once when we were driving over to White Sands, so at least I know my husband’s not in Alaska.

Mr Clark: Service wives have it rough[149].

Mrs Henderson: You’re not in the service? (Mrs Henderson’s voice became guarded.)

Mr Clark: Oh, sure. (Clark lied.) That’s how I know how it is. Or, rather, my wife does. They keep me travelling all the time.

Mrs Henderson: Oh. (She sounded relieved.) Well, tell me where you are stopping, and if he does get home, I’ll have him call you.

Mr Clark: Sorry. (He lied again.) I’ve got to fly to L. A. this afternoon. Just tell him Ray called. And thanks anyway, Mrs Henderson.

Gretchen[150]: Rudy?

Rudolph: Yes.

Gretchen: I called Jean at your house and she told me where you are. I hope I’m not disturbing you.

Rudolph: No, no. I’m just dawdling idly[151] in that well-known holiday spot, Dallas les Bains. Where are you anyway?

Gretchen: Los Angeles. I wouldn’t have called you, but I’m out of my mind.

Rudolph: What is it?

Gretchen: It’s Billy. Did you know he dropped out of school a month ago?

Rudolph: No. He hardly ever whispered his secrets to me, you know.

Gretchen: He’s being drafted, now that he’s not a student any more.

Rudolph: Well, it might do him some good. A couple of years in the Army might make a man of him.

Gretchen: You have a baby daughter. You can talk like that. I have one son, I don’t think a bullet through his head is going to make a man of my son.

Rudolph: Now, Gretchen, don’t make it so automatic. Induct[152] the boy and two months later send the corpse home to mother. There are an awful lot of boys who serve their time and come home without a scratch.

Gretchen: That’s why I’m calling you. I want you to make sure that he comes home without a scratch.

Rudolph: What can I do?

Gretchen: You know a lot of people in Washington.

Rudolph: Nobody can keep a kid out of the draft if he’s goofed school[153] and he’s in good health, Gretchen.

Gretchen: I’m not so sure about that, either, from some of the things I’ve heard and read. But I’m not asking you to try to keep Billy out of the Army.

Rudolph: Then what are you trying to get me to do?

Gretchen: Use your connections to make sure that once Billy is in he doesn’t ever get sent to Viet Nam.

Rudolph: Gretchen, I wish you could figure out some other way…

Gretchen: The only other person I know who might be able to do something is Colin Burke’s brother. He’s a general in the Air Force. He’s in Viet Nam right now. I bet he’d just fall all over himself with eagerness[154] to keep Billy from hearing a shot fired.

Rudolph: Not so loud, Gretchen. I hear you perfectly well.

Gretchen: I’m going to tell you something: If you don’t help me, I’m coming to New York and I’m taking Billy with me to Canada or Sweden. And I’m going to make one hell of a loud noise about why I’m doing it.

Rudolph: Christ, Gretchen. What’s wrong with you? (He heard the phone slam at the other end. Some minutes later he went over to the phone and asked for the Gretchen’s number in California. When she answered, he said:) All right, Gretchen. I’ll stop over in Washington on the way north and see what I can do. I think you can stop worrying.

Gretchen: Thank you, Rudy. I knew you’d come through.

Mallinson: Mallinson.

Caron: Mr Anthony Mallinson?

Mallinson: Speaking.

Caron: My name is Inspector Lucien Caron, of the French Sûrété Nationale[155]. I am ringing on behalf of Commissaire Claude Lebel. (The voice, speaking good but strongly accented English, was coming over clearly. Obviously line trafic at that hour was light.)

Mallinson: Yes.

Caron: I believe you know Commissaire Lebel, perhaps, Mr Mallinson.

Mallinson: Yes, I know Commissaire Lebel. What’s it about?

Caron: There is a matter of very considerable emergency, which also requires a great degree of discretion, that has cropped up. I am assisting Commissaire Lebel on the case. It is a most unusual case. The Commissaire would like to place a person-to-person call to you this morning at nine o’clock. Could you please be present to take the call?

Mallinson: Is that a routine inquiry between co-operating police forces?

Caron: No, Mr Mallinson, it is not. It is a question of personal request by the Commissaire to you for a little discreet assistance. It may be there is nothing that affects Scotland Yard in the matter that has come up. Most probably, so. If that is the case, it would be better if there were no formal request placed.

(Mallinson thought it over. He was by nature a cautious man and had no wish to be involved in clandestine inquiries from a foreign police force. If a crime had been committed, or a criminal had fled to Britain, that was another matter. In that case why the secrecy? Then he remembered a case years ago where he had been sent out to find and bring back the daughter of a Cabinet Minister who had gone astray with a handsome young devil. The girl had been a minor so charges of removal the child from parental authority could have been brought. A bit marginal[156]. But the Minister wanted the whole thing done without a murmur reaching the Press. The Italian Police had been very helpful when the couple was found at Verona playing Romeo and Juliet. All right, so Lebel wanted a bit of help.)

Mallinson: All right, I’ll take the call. Nine o’clock.

Caron: Thank you so much, Mr Mallinson.

Mallinson: Good night.

Inspector Sims: Is that Mr Poirot? Inspector Sims here. Things are beginning to sit up and look pretty[157] in that little matter you and I know of.

Detective Poirot: Tell me, I pray of you.

Sims: Well, here’s item No. 1 — and a pretty big item. Miss B. left a small legacy to her niece and everything else to Katrina. In consideration of her great kindness and attention — that’s the way it was put. That alters the complexion of things. Item No. 2 — nobody but Katrina handled that cachet[158].

Poirot: You can be sure of that?

Sims: The girl herself doesn’t deny it. What do you think of that?

Poirot: Extremely interesting.

Sims: We only want one thing more — evidence of how the poison came into her possession. That oughtn’t to be difficult.