4.50 из Паддингтона

УДК 372.8
ББК 81.2 Англ93
 
К 82

ISBN 97859925-0120-9
 © КАРО, 2008

Кристи А.
К 82 
4.50 из Паддингтона: Книга для чтения на 
английком языке — СПб.: КАРО, 2008. — 384 с.

ISBN 97859925-0120-9

По дороге в гости к мисс Марпл ее подруга из окна 
поезда увидела, как совершилось убийство. Полиция трупа 
не нашла, но мисс Марпл, изучив карту местности, поняла, 
куда примерно делось тело женщины — его выкинули из 
поезда, а затем спрятали.
В ближайшем к путям прохождения поезда поместье 
под описание преступника (виденного, правда, только со 
спины) подходят несколько человек. Кто из них? Почему? 
Кто жертва и где, собственно говоря, тело?
Как обычно, Скотленд-Ярд собирает факты и улики и 
приходит к неверным выводам, а мисс Марпл безошибочно указывает на злодея, правда, ей в этом помогает одна 
из ее приятельниц, устроившаяся в поместье «прислугой за 
все». Метод расследования милой пожилой леди прост: она 
убеждена в том, что в ее деревушке Сент-Мери-Мид можно 
встретить все типы характеров, а человечество не выдумало 
никаких новых мотивов преступлений, они все те же — зависть, жадность, деньги.
Приведенные в дополнение к неадаптированному тексту словарик и комментарии помогут любителям детектива 
разобраться в хитро сплетениях сюжета и получить удовольствие от новой встречи с героями Агаты Кристи.

УДК 372.8
ББК 81.2 Англ93

4.50 FROM PADDINGTON

Chapter 1

Mrs. McGillicuddy panted along the platform 

in the wake1 of the porter carrying her suitcase. 

Mrs. McGillicuddy was short and stout, the porter was 

tall and free-striding. In addition, Mrs. McGillicuddy 

was burdened with a large quantity of parcels; the result 

of a day’s Christmas shopping. The race was, therefore, 

an uneven one, and the porter turned the corner at the 

end of the platform whilst Mrs. McGillicuddy was still 

coming up the straight.

No. 1 Platform was not at the moment unduly 

crowded, since a train had just gone out, but in the no
man’s-land beyond, a milling crowd was rushing in sev
eral directions at once, to and from undergrounds, left
luggage offices, tea-rooms, inquiry offices, indicator 

boards, and the two outlets, Arrival and Departure, to 

the outside world.

1 in the wake — (разг.) следуя по пятам

AGATHA CHRISTIE 

Mrs. McGillicuddy and her parcels were buffeted to 
and fro1, but she arrived eventually at the entrance to 
No. 3 Platform, and deposited one parcel at her feet whilst 
she searched her bag for the ticket that would enable her 
to pass the stern uniformed guardian at the gate.
At that moment, a Voice, raucous yet refined, burst 
into speech over her head.
‘The train standing at Platform 3,’ the Voice told her, 
‘is the 4.502 for Brackhampton, Milchester, Waverton, 
Carvil Junction, Roxeter and stations to Chadmouth. 
Passengers for Brackhampton and Milchester travel at 
the rear of the train. Passengers for Vanequay change 
at Roxeter.’ The Voice shut itself off with a click, and 
then reopened conversation by announcing the arrival at Platform 9 of the 4.35 from Birmingham and 
Wolverhampton.
Mrs. McGillicuddy found her ticket and presented 
it. The man clipped it, murmured: ‘On the right — rear 
portion.’
Mrs. McGillicuddy padded up the platform and 
found her porter, looking bored and staring into space, 
outside the door of a third-class carriage.

1  to and fro — (разг.) туда и сюда
2 4.50 — автор опускает p. m. (лат. past meri qium — 
после полудня), т. к. по смыслу ясно, что речь идет о дневных поездах

4.50 FROM PADDINGTON

‘Here you are, lady.’
‘I’m travelling first-class,’ said Mrs. McGillicuddy.
‘You didn’t say so,’ grumbled the porter. His eye 
swept her masculine-looking pepper-and-salt tweed 
coat disparagingly.
Mrs. McGillicuddy, who had said so, did not argue 
the point. She was sadly out of breath.
The porter retrieved the suitcase and marched with 
it to the adjoining coach where Mrs. McGillicuddy was 
installed in solitary splendour. The 4.50 was not much 
patronized, the first-class clientele preferring either 
the faster morning express, or the 6.40 with diningcar. Mrs. McGillicuddy handed the porter his tip which 
he received with disappointment, clearly considering 
it more applicable to third-class than to first-class 
travel. Mrs. McGillicuddy, though prepared to spend 
money on comfortable travel after a night journey from 
the North and a day’s feverish shopping, was at no time 
an extravagant tipper.
She settled herself back on the plush cushions 
with a sigh and opened her magazine. Five minutes 
later, whistles blew, and the train started. The magazine slipped from Mrs. McGillicuddy’s hand, her head 
dropped sideways, three minutes later she was asleep. 
She slept for thirty-five minutes and awoke refreshed. 

AGATHA CHRISTIE 

Resettling her hat which had slipped askew she sat up 
and looked out of the window at what she could see of 
the flying countryside. It was quite dark now, a dreary misty December day — Christmas was only five days 
ahead. London had been dark and dreary; the country 
was no less so, though occasionally rendered cheerful 
with its constant clusters of lights as the train flashed 
through towns and stations.
‘Serving last tea now,’ said an attendant, whisking 
open the corridor door like a jinn. Mrs. McGillicuddy 
had already partaken of tea at a large department store. 
She was for the moment amply nourished. The attendant went on down the corridor uttering his monotonous cry. Mrs. McGillicuddy looked up at the rack where 
her various parcels reposed, with a pleased expression. 
The face towels had been excellent value and just what 
Margaret wanted, the space gun for Robby and the rabbit for Jean were highly satisfactory, and that evening 
coatee was just the thing she herself needed, warm but 
dressy. The pullover for Hector, too… her mind dwelt 
with approval on the soundness of her purchases.
Her satisfied gaze returned to the window, a train travelling in the opposite direction rushed by with a screech, 
making the windows rattle and causing her to start. The 

train clattered over points and passed through a station.

4.50 FROM PADDINGTON

Then it began suddenly to slow down, presumably 
in obedience to a signal. For some minutes it crawled 
along, then stopped, presently it began to move forward 
again. Another up-train passed them, though with less 
vehemence than the first one. The train gathered speed 
again. At that moment another train, also on a downline, swerved inwards towards them, for a moment 
with almost alarming effect. For a time the two trains 
ran parallel, now one gaining a little, now the other. 
Mrs. McGillicuddy looked from her window through 
the windows of the parallel carriages. Most of the blinds 
were down, but occasionally the occupants of the carriages were visible. The other train was not very full and 
there were many empty carriages.
At the moment when the two trains gave the illusion of being stationary, a blind in one of the carriages  
flew up with a snap. Mrs. McGillicuddy looked into 
the lighted first-class carriage that was only a few feet 
away.
Then she drew her breath in with a gasp and halfrose to her feet.
Standing with his back to the window and to her was 
a man. His hands were round the throat of a woman 
who faced him, and he was slowly, remorselessly, strangling her. Her eyes were starting from their sockets, her 

AGATHA CHRISTIE 

face was purple and congested. As Mrs. McGillicuddy 
watched fascinated, the end came; the body went limp 
and crumpled in the man’s hands.
At the same moment, Mrs. McGillicuddy’s train 
slowed down again and the other began to gain speed. 
It passed forward and a moment or two later it had vanished from sight.
Almost automatically Mrs. McGillicuddy’s hand went 
up to the communication cord, then paused, irresolute. 
After all, what use would it be ringing the cord of the 
train in which she was travelling? The horror of what she 
had seen at such close quarters, and the unusual circumstances, made her feel paralysed. Some immediate action 
was necessary — but what?
The door of her compartment was drawn back and a 
ticket collector said, ‘Ticket, please.’
Mrs. McGillicuddy turned to him with vehemence. 
‘A woman has been strangled,’ she said. ‘In a train that 
has just passed. I saw it.’
The ticket collector looked at her doubtfully. ‘I beg 
your pardon, madam?’
‘A man strangled a woman! In a train. I saw it — 
through there.’ She pointed to the window.
The ticket collector looked extremely doubtful. 
‘Strangled?’ he said disbelievingly.

4.50 FROM PADDINGTON

‘Yes, strangled. I saw it, I tell you. You must do something at once!’
The ticket collector coughed apologetically.
‘You don’t think, madam, that you may have had a 
little nap and — er —’ he broke off tactfully.
‘I have had a nap, but if you think this was a dream, 
you’re quite wrong. I saw it, I tell you.’
The ticket collector’s eyes dropped to the open magazine lying on the seat. On the exposed page was a girl 
being strangled whilst a man with a revolver threatened 
the pair from an open doorway.
He said persuasively: ‘Now don’t you think, madam, 
that you’d been reading an exciting story, and that you 
just dropped off, and awaking a little confused —’
Mrs. McGillicuddy interrupted him.
‘I saw it,’ she said. ‘I was as wide awake as you are. And 
I looked out of the window into the window of the train 
alongside, and a man was strangling a woman. And what 
I want to know is, what are you going to do about it?’
‘Well — madam —’
‘You’re going to do something, I suppose?’ 
The ticket collector sighed reluctantly and glanced 
at his watch.
‘We shall be in Brackhampton in exactly seven minutes. I’ll report what you’ve told me. In what direction 

was the train you mention going?’

AGATHA CHRISTIE 

‘This direction, of course. You don’t suppose I’d 

have been able to see this if a train had flashed past go
ing in the other direction?’

The ticket collector looked as though he thought 

Mrs. McGillicuddy was quite capable of seeing any
thing anywhere as the fancy took her. But he remained 

polite. ‘You can rely on me, madam,’ he said. ‘I will re
port your statement. Perhaps I might have your name 

and address — just in case…1’

Mrs. McGillicuddy gave him the address where she 

would be staying for the next few days and her per
manent address in Scotland, and he wrote them down. 

Then he withdrew with the air of a man who has done 

his duty and dealt successfully with a tiresome member 

of the travelling public.

Mrs. McGillicuddy remained frowning and vaguely 

unsatisfied. Would the ticket collector report her state
ment? Or had he just been soothing her down? There 

were, she supposed vaguely, a lot of elderly women trav
elling around, fully convinced that they had unmasked 

communist plots, were in danger of being murdered, 

saw flying saucers and secret space ships, and reported  

1 just in case — (разг.) на всякий случай