Brian Kavanagh Capable of Murder (pdf)

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obviously been taken.
As the last book slid onto the shelf some obstruction
prevented it from finding its position and she withdrew
it. Protruding slightly from the bottom of the book was a
number of yellowish pieces of paper.
He ll probably be looking for these in the future and
wonder what he s done with them, thought Belinda, as
she opened the book, unfolded the papers and glanced
at them.
She almost dropped the book with shock and her
heart leapt at the discovery.
Taking the worn papers she half fell down the steps,
sat unbelieving at the desk and switched on the desk
lamp so that she could inspect the letters, for that s
what they appeared to be.
Written in fading ink and in the language and idiom
of a past age, the first letter appeared to be a request.
Her eyes wide with excitement, Belinda began to read,
Sir, if you have time - when you visit Combe Down
I would take it as a mighty kindness if you would do
yourself the bother to stop at my dwelling in Milford. I
am in considerable concern and disquiet, which one
swift glance of yours into a sizeable measure of land of
mine would swiftly ease me from. I hope I am not in
error to desire a diminutive canvas from a &
Here the letter finished abruptly as the page was
torn at a sharp angle. Belinda realised that she had
hardly taken a breath since starting the letter. She
placed the first page aside and picked up the second.
As she did the telephone at her elbow emitted a shrill
ring and she jumped with fright. She took the receiver
in her hand.
Hello, this is Mark Sallinger s residence.
There was a menacing silence at the other end of
the phone. Belinda heard someone breathing as the
line was disconnected.
The unknown caller had hung up. Belinda shifted
her attention to the second letter, written in a different
hand but which appeared to be an answer to the first.
& and at your request, I have scratched a design
as best I could from the survey as well as the report
you gave me.
The top of the page was missing but the faint writing
was in a definite and strong hand.
To bring about these ideas there needs to be a
pleasing design, decent execution, a faultless
awareness of the country and the substances in it
and constant tenderness in the planting thereof
building on the magnitude of the trees and the tint of
their leaves to yield the reward of light and shadow so
necessary to the completion of a delightful design.
As to the matter of &
Again the page was torn and gave no hint as to the
identity of the writer. Belinda however had no
hesitation in identifying the author. Capability Brown!
As the full meaning of her discovery dawned on
Belinda, a fear that grew stronger by the minute
overtook her and without bothering to collect her
cleaning utensils she gathered her coat and took the
ancient letters in her hands. Looking at the first, she
examined the bottom of the torn page.
I hope I am not in error to desire a diminutive
canvas from a &
Belinda knew where the missing fragment of paper
was and what writing it contained.
The torn portion she had taken from Rosemary s
dead hand and hidden behind the watercolour in the
long room at the cottage. It bore the missing name
Michelangelo.
Hardly had Belinda s car turned out of one end of the
street when Mark s car appeared at the other. It sped to
a halt outside his house and Mark flung open the door
and ran up the short path to the front entrance.
He clattered into the empty hall and stood at the
door of the study. An open book on the desk
illuminated by the desk lamp told him all he needed to
know. His arms dropped in a thwarted gesture to his
side.
Belinda had discovered the letters.
Fourteen
The two pieces of paper fitted together like a well-
constructed jigsaw puzzle.
I hope I am not in error to desire a diminutive
canvas from a &
Belinda slid the triangular fragment of paper
against the torn edge.
a diminutive canvas from a & Michelangelo.
Belinda s hands shook as she dropped the
incriminating letters onto the table.
It was Mark.
A chill of horror engulfed her as the reality of Mark s
involvement in Rosemary s murder sank into her
consciousness. Mark had stabbed Rosemary with the
ice pick and wrenched the letter from her fingers. The
triangular particle had torn along the crease and
remained in Rosemary s hand.
Belinda dropped onto the sofa, icy perspiration
coating her brow. She felt ill with the thought that she
had dined with Mark and had actually cleaned his
house. She shivered in the damp night air. Restlessly
she rose and paced back and forth across the narrow
room like a caged and frightened animal.
I ve got to tell the police. Belinda ran towards the
door. I ve got to tell Jacob.
The door handle was cold and clammy in her hand
as she wrenched the huge door open. The ferocious
rain engulfed her.
Out of the liquid shroud a hand grasped her tightly. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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