38 He took in the situation like lightning.—Он оценил ситуацию с быстротой молнии.

10

If he were found in Elsie's room it could only cause embarrassment and misunderstanding. Both for her sake and his own there must be no scandal.

As noiselessly as possible he returned to his room. Just as he reached it, he heard the sound of an opening door.

He sat in his room for nearly half an hour, waiting. There was a light knock at his door. Harold jumped up to open it.

It was not Elsie who came in but her mother. She looked suddenly years older. She was deadly pale. Harold said quickly:

"You look ill, Mrs. Rice. Can I get you something?" She shook her head.

"No. I'm all right, really. It's only the shock. Mr. Waring, a terrible thing has happened."

Harold asked: "Is Clayton seriously injured?"

She caught her breath.

"Worse than that. He's dead..."

IV

For a moment or two Harold was unable to speak. At last he repeated slowly: "Dead?"

Mrs. Rice nodded.

"The corner of that marble presse-papiers hit him right on the temple. He is certainly dead. I have seen death often enough to know."

"It was an accident. I can confirm Elsie's story."

Mrs. Rice said bitterly:

"Yes, and she can confirm yours. That — that is just it!"³⁹ Harold's brain, naturally a keen one, saw her point.⁴⁰ He and Elsie had spent a good deal of their time together. Then there was the fact that they had been seen together in the pinewoods by one of the Polish women under rather compromising circumstances. She may have said something to Clayton, that had aroused his jealousy. And now — his death. When Clayton had died, he, Harold, had been in Elsie Clayton's room.

A cold fear gripped him. He did not imagine that either he or Elsie was in danger of being condemned to death for a murder they had not committed. But this case would

39 That is just it! — в этом все и дело!

40 Saw her point — понял, что она имела в виду

10

be reported in all the papers. "An English man and woman accused of murder—jealous husband — rising politi­cian." Yes, it would mean the end of his political career. It would never survive a scandal like that. He said on an impulse:

"What can we do? My God, what can we do?"

Mrs. Rice shook her head despairingly. She said hoarsely:

"Elsie — my little girl. I'll do anything..." And she added: "You too, your career—everything. I wonder now if something could be done —"

"Yes?" Harold looked at her eagerly.

Mrs. Rice said abruptly:

"How much money have you got?"

"Not much with me. But I could wire for money, of course."

Mrs. Rice said grimly:

"We may need a good deal. But I think it's worth trying."

Harold felt a faint hope. He said: "What is your idea?" Mrs. Rice said decisively:

"We haven't a chance of concealing the death ourselves, but I do think there's just a chance of hushing it up officially."

"You really think so?"

"Yes, it's my opinion, that in these little Balkan countries you can bribe anyone and everyone — and the police are probably more corrupt than anyone else."

Harold said slowly:

"I believe you're right."

Mrs. Rice went on:

"I believe, Harold, it will be possible to hush the whole thing up — and get Phillip's death certified as due to natural causes! It's just a question of bribing high enough — and finding the right man — probably the Chief of Police! After all, we can try."

V

On the following morning various police officials arrived and were shown up to Mrs. Rice's bedroom. Harold had wired for money but he had taken no part in the police proceedings — indeed he was unable to do so since none of these policemen spoke English.

At 12 o'clock Mrs. Rice came to his room. She said simply:

3-1424

33

"It's worked!"

Harold said dryly: "How much?" "The tariffs rather high." She read out a list of figures.

"The Chief of Police, the Commissaire, the Agent, the Doctor, the Hotel Manager, the Night Porter." Mrs. Rice explained:

"The official story will be that Phillip had a heart attack. It is wonderful what the police can do when they try!"

"Well," said Harold. "Thank God our police aren't like that."

And in a British and superior mood⁴¹ he went down to lunch.

***

After lunch Harold usually joined Mrs. Rice and her daughter for coffee. This¹ was the first time he had seen Elsie since the night before. She was very pale but tried to behave as usual.

They commented on a new guest who had just arrived, trying to guess his nationality. Harold thought a moustache like that must be French, Elsie said German, and Mrs. Rice thought he might be Spanish.

From the far end of the terrace the two bird-like women rose. With little bows they sat down by Mrs. Rice. One of them began to speak. The other one kept her eyes on Elsie and Harold. There was a little smile on her lips. It was not, Harold thought, a nice smile.

He looked over at Mrs. Rice. She was listening to the Polish woman and though he couldn't understand a word, the expression on Mrs. Rice's face was clear enough. All the old fear and despair came back.

At last the two women rose, and with little bows went into the hotel. Harold asked hoarsely:

"What is it?"

Mrs. Rice answered him in the quiet hopeless tone of despair:

"Those women are going to blackmail us. They heard everything last night. And it makes the whole thing a thousand times worse..."