Read Online The Curious Incident at Claridge's by R.T. Raichev - Free Book Online Page B

him. Him—and, well, bloody not -him. If such a thing were possible. She’s bewitched me, he thought in a sudden panic. I am under Penelope’s spell. I am her slave for life. He made a desperate effort to pull himself together.
    â€˜Such a warm day,’ Penelope Tradescant said. ‘Much warmer than yesterday, wouldn’t you say?’
    â€˜Yes. You are absolutely right.’
    â€˜Have you come a long way, Captain Jesty?’
    â€˜Albany.’
    â€˜That’s not too far.’
    â€˜Not too far, no.’
    â€˜Albany or the Albany?’
    â€˜Both are permissible. I prefer Albany. The Albany sounds too much like a public house.’
    â€˜It does. How funny. You’ll never believe this, but I have taken quite a fancy to the waiters. Look at them! Sombre, attentive and perfectly charming.’ She smiled. ‘Like—like those Florentines Dante meets in Purgatory.’
    Her expression, he imagined, was ironic but not unfriendly. Once more he glanced down at her hand. He wanted to reach out and take hold of it in his but didn’t dare. She was looking at him in a quizzical manner now.
    He had the idea she was assessing him—appraising him. He was put in mind of those princesses in fairy tales who set their suitor some impossible task. I’d do anything for her, he thought. Anything.
    â€˜Have you been to Italy, Captain Jesty?’
    â€˜I have. To Rome and to Venice. Also to Tuscany. A bloody marvellous place, Tuscany.’
    â€˜We have a villa in the South of France but I try to go to Italy whenever I can.’
    â€˜Do you? Italy is jolly amazing.’
    â€˜I agree.’ She nodded.
    â€˜All those cathedrals. All those wines. And of course the weather. All bloody marvellous.’
    Small talk, he thought incredulously. We are making small talk. Albany, the Albany, cathedrals, the weather—
    It was all wrong. He’d allowed her to get the upper hand. He’d forgotten that it was he who held the trump card. He needed to take decisive action, dammit. He had always prided himself on being a man of action. Would be madness to waste any more time. He was a soldier, dammit.
    He cleared his throat.

9
    The Turn of the Screw
    â€˜You …’
    â€˜Yes, Captain Jesty?’
    â€˜You mustn’t be afraid of me,’ he said in a low voice.
    That was not what he intended to say, but the idea that she might be afraid of him was unbearable. He was anxious to reassure her.
    â€˜I am not afraid of you. Whatever gave you the idea?’
    â€˜You know perfectly well what.’
    â€˜I believe there has been a misunderstanding—’
    â€˜I want you to know that your secret is safe with me.’
    â€˜What secret?’
    â€˜The capsule, dammit. The little box. At Claridge’s. You poisoned your husband,’ he blurted out.
    There was a pause. Her expression did not change.
    â€˜You believe I poisoned my husband.’ Her voice was oddly uninflected. She had leant slightly forward and at the same time put her hands on her lap. Out of my reach, he thought with a pang, also out of my sight. This saddened him—it saddened him so much, he felt the sudden urge to blub. Then he felt annoyed, with himself, as well as with her. He felt blood rushing into his face. He pursed his lips.
    â€˜I am convinced of it,’ he said.
    â€˜Well, you are very much mistaken. I am afraid you’ve got the wrong end of the stick altogether,’ she said briskly. ‘My husband is alive. He is fine. You could go and check, if you like. I could give you the address.’
    â€˜You mean he didn’t take the capsule?’ Damn, he thought.
    â€˜As a matter of fact he did take the capsule. Last night, after dinner. I specifically asked him about it.’ She gave a little smile. ‘Seymour can be a bit absent-minded, it’s his age, I suppose, but it was important that he complete the course. That was what the doctor