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Woody Allen

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Ebook "A Caribbean Mystery"
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Sách Đọc Nhiều
Tác giả: Agatha Christie
Thể loại: Trinh Thám
Biên tập: Yen
Language: English
Số chương: 37
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Cập nhật: 2015-01-24 12:31:11 +0700
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Evelyn Hillingdon spoke mechanically, without interest. She did not look at her husband.
“Evelyn, would you mind if we chucked all this and went home to England?”
She had been combing her short dark hair. Now her hands came down from her head sharply. She turned towards him.
“You mean- But we've only just come. We've not been out here in the islands for more than three weeks.”
“I know. But-would you mind?”
Her eyes searched him incredulously. “You really want to go back to England. Back home?”
He winced.
“You've known all the time, I suppose, that-that it was still going on?”
“Pretty well. Yes.”
“You've never said anything.”
“Why should I? We had the whole thing out years ago. Neither of us wanted to make a break. So we agreed to go our separate ways-but keep up the show in public.”
Then she added before he could speak, “But why are you so set on going back to England now?”
“Because I'm at breaking point. I can't stick it any longer, Evelyn. I can't.” The quiet Edward Hillingdon was transformed. His hands shook, he swallowed, his calm unemotional face seemed distorted by pain.
“For God's sake, Edward, what's the matter?”
“Nothing's the matter except that I want to get out of here-”
“You fell wildly in love with Lucky. And now you've got over it. Is that what you're telling me?”
“Yes. I don't suppose you'll ever feel the same.”
“Oh let's not go into that now! I want to understand what's upsetting you so much, Edward.”
“I'm not particularly upset.”
“But you are. Why?”
“Isn't it obvious?”
“No, it isn't,” said Evelyn. “Let's put it in plain concrete terms. You've had an affair with a woman. That happens often enough. And now it's over. Or isn't it over? Perhaps it isn't over on her side. Is that it? Does Greg know about it? I've often wondered.”
“I don't know,” said Edward. “He's never said anything. He always seems friendly enough.”
“Men can be extraordinarily obtuse,” said Evelyn thoughtfully. “Or else- Perhaps Greg has got an outside interest of his own!”
“He's made passes at you, hasn't he?” said Edward. “Answer me-I know he has-”
“Oh yes,” said Evelyn, carelessly, “but he makes passes at everybody. That's just Greg. It doesn't ever really mean much. I imagine. It's just part of the Greg he-man act.”
“Do you care for him, Evelyn? I'd rather know the truth.”
“Greg? I'm quite fond of him-he amuses me. He's a good friend.”
“And that's all? I wish I could believe you.”
“I can't really see how it can possibly matter to you,” said Evelyn dryly.
“I suppose I deserve that.”
Evelyn walked to the window, looked out across the veranda and came back again. “I wish you would tell me what's really upsetting you, Edward.”
“I've told you.”
“I wonder.”
“You can't understand, I suppose, how extraordinary a temporary madness of this kind can seem to you after you've got over it.”
“I can try, I suppose. But what's worrying me now is that Lucky seems to have got some kind of stranglehold upon you. She's not just a discarded mistress. She's a tigress with claws. You must tell me the truth, Edward. It's the only way if you want me to stand by you.”
Edward said in a low voice: “If I don't get away from her soon-I shall kill her.”
“Kill Lucky? Why?”
“Because of what she made me do...”
“What did she make you do?”
“I helped her to commit a murder-”
The words were out. There was silence. Evelyn stared at him. “Do you know what you are saying?”
“Yes. I didn't know I was doing it. There were things she asked me to get for her-at the chemist's. I didn't know-I hadn't the least idea what she wanted them for. She got me to copy out a prescription she had...”
“When was this?”
“Four years ago. When we were in Martinique. When-when Greg's wife-”
“You mean Greg's first wife-Gail? You mean Lucky poisoned her?”
“Yes-and I helped her. When I realised-”
Evelyn interrupted him. “When you realised what had happened, Lucky pointed out to you that you had written out the prescription, that you had got the drugs, that you and she were in it together? Is that right?”
“Yes. She said she had done it out of pity-that Gail was suffering-that she had begged Lucky to get something that would end it all.”
“A mercy killing! I see. And you believed that?”
Edward Hillingdon was silent a moment, then he said: “No-I didn't really-not deep down. I accepted it because I wanted to believe it-because I was infatuated with Lucky.”
“And afterwards-when she married Greg-did you still believe it?”
“I'd made myself believe it by then.”
“And Greg-how much did he know about it all?”
“Nothing at all.”
“That I find hard to believe!”
Edward Hillingdon broke out: “Evelyn, I've got to get free of it all! That woman taunts me still with what I did. She knows I don't care for her any longer. Care for her? I've come to hate her! But she makes me feel I'm tied to her by the thing we did together.” Evelyn walked up and down the room then she stopped and faced him.
“The entire trouble with you, Edward, is that you are ridiculously sensitive-and also incredibly suggestible. That devil of a woman has got you just where she wants you by playing on your sense of guilt. And I'll tell you this in plain Bible terms, the guilt that weighs on you is the guilt of adultery-not murder. You were guilt-stricken about your affair with Lucky-and then she made a cat's-paw of you for her murder scheme, and managed to make you feel you shared her guilt. You don't.”
“Evelyn...” He stepped towards her.
She stepped back a minute and looked at him searchingly.
“Is this all true, Edward? Is it? Or are you making it up?”
“Evelyn! Why on earth should I do such a thing?”
“I don't know,” said Evelyn Hillingdon slowly. “It's just perhaps-because I find it hard to trust anybody. And because- Oh! I don't know. I've got, I suppose, so that I don't know the truth when I hear it.”
“Let's chuck all this. Go back home to England.”
“Yes. We will. But not now.”
“Why not?”
“We must carry on as usual-just for the present. It's important. Do you understand, Edward? Don't let Lucky have an inkling of what we're up to-”
A Caribbean Mystery A Caribbean Mystery - Agatha Christie A Caribbean Mystery