Spider’s Web. Агата Кристи
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Clarissa went up to Costello and faced him squarely. ‘Now listen,’ she ordered him. ‘I don’t know about Henry, but I do know about myself. You try to get Pippa away from here, and I’ll fight you tooth and nail.’ She paused, then added, ‘And I don’t care what weapons I use.’
Apparently unmoved by her outburst, Costello chuckled, but Clarissa continued, ‘It shouldn’t be difficult to get medical evidence proving Miranda’s a drug addict. I’d even go to Scotland Yard and talk to the Narcotic Squad, and I’d suggest that they kept an eye on you as well.’
Costello gave a start at this. ‘The upright Henry will hardly care for your methods,’ he warned Clarissa.
‘Then Henry will have to lump them,’ she retorted fiercely. ‘It’s the child that matters. I’m not going to have Pippa bullied or frightened.’
At this point, Pippa came into the room. Seeing Costello, she stopped short, looking terrified.
‘Why, hello, Pippa,’ Costello greeted her. ‘How you’ve grown.’
Pippa backed away as he moved towards her. ‘I’ve just come to make some arrangements about you,’ he told her. ‘Your mother is looking forward to having you with her again. She and I are married now, and—’
‘I won’t come,’ Pippa cried hysterically, running to Clarissa for protection. ‘I won’t come. Clarissa, they can’t make me, can they? They wouldn’t—’
‘Don’t worry, Pippa darling,’ Clarissa said soothingly, putting her arm around the child. ‘Your home is here with your father and with me, and you’re not leaving it.’
‘But I assure you—’ Costello began, only to be interrupted angrily by Clarissa. ‘Get out of here at once,’ she ordered him.
Mockingly pretending to be afraid of her, Costello put his hands above his head, and backed away.
‘At once!’ Clarissa repeated. She advanced upon him. ‘I won’t have you in my house, do you hear?’
Miss Peake appeared at the French windows, carrying a large garden-fork. ‘Oh, Mrs Hailsham-Brown,’ she began, ‘I—’
‘Miss Peake,’ Clarissa interrupted her. ‘Will you show Mr Costello the way through the garden to the back gate?’
Costello looked at Miss Peake, who lifted her garden-fork as she returned his gaze.
‘Miss—Peake?’ he queried.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ she replied, robustly. ‘I’m the gardener here.’
‘Indeed, yes,’ said Costello. ‘I came here once before, you may remember, to look at some antique furniture.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Miss Peake replied. ‘In Mr Sellon’s time. But you can’t see him today, you know. He’s dead.’
‘No, I didn’t come to see him,’ Costello declared. ‘I came to see—Mrs Brown.’ He gave the name a certain emphasis.
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