Убийства по алфавиту

Комментарии и словарь 

А. О. Лободы

УДК 372.8
ББК  81.2 Англ 

К82

ISBN 978-5-9925-1648-7

Кристи, Агата.

К82  
Убийства по алфавиту : книга для чтения на ан
глийском языке / А. Кристи — Санкт-Петербург : 
КАРО, 2023. — 352 с. — (Detective story).

ISBN 978-5-9925-1648-7.

Королева классического детектива Агата Кристи предлагает 

читателям сложную, но интересную загадку — убийства по железнодорожному справочнику, которые берется расследовать блестящий 
сыщик Эркюль Пуаро.

Следить за развитием событий читателю помогут подробные 

комментарии и словарь, данный в конце книги.

УДК 372.8 

ББК 81.2 Англ

AGATHA CHRISTIE 
THE A B C MURDERS

The A B C Murders © 1936 
Agatha Christie Limited.  
All rights reserved.
AGATHA CHRISTIE© POIROT 
аnd the Agatha Christie Signature
аre registered trade marks of
Agatha Christie Limited in the UK
and elsewhere. All rights reserved.
© КАРО, 2023 
Все права защищены

To James Watts

One of my most sympathetic readers

®

FOREWORD

BY

Captain Arthur Hastings, О. В. E.1

In this narrative of mine I have departed from my 

usual practice of relating only those incidents and 
scenes at which I myself was present2. Certain 
chapters, therefore, were written in the third person.

Wish to assure my readers that I can vouch for the 

occurrences related in these chapters. If I have taken a 
certain poetic licence in describing the thoughts and 
feelings of various persons, it is because I believe I 
have set them down with a reasonable amount of 
accuracy. I may add that they have been “vetted” by 
my friend Hercule Poirot himself.

1  O.B.E. = Officer of the Order of the British Empire — 
офицер ордена Британской империи (рыцарский орден, 
созданный Георгом V в 1917г.; самый младший в британской наградной системе)
2  I myself was present — я лично присутствовал

In conclusion, I will say that if I have described at 

too great length some of the secondary personal 
relationships which arose as a consequence of this 
strange series of crimes, it is because the human and 
personal element can never be ignored. Hercule 
Poirot once taught me in a very dramatic manner 
that romance can be a by-product of crime.

As to the solving of the ABC mystery, I can only 

say that in my opinion Poirot showed real genius 
in the way he tackled a problem entirely unlike any 
which had previously come his way.

CHAPTER 1

The Letter

It was in June of 1935 that I came home from 

my ranch1 in South America for a stay of about six 
months. It had been a difficult time for us out there. 
Like everyone else, we had suffered from world depression2. I had various affairs to see to in England 
that I felt could only be successful if a personal touch 
was introduced. My wife remained to manage the 
ranch.

I need hardly say that one of my first actions on 

reaching England was to look up my old friend, Hercule Poirot.

I found him installed in one of the newest type of 

service flats3 in London. I accused him (and he admitted the fact) of having chosen this particular building 

1  ranch (амер.) — ранчо (скотоводческое хозяйство)
2  world depression = the Great Depression — Великая 
депрессия (мировой экономический кризис 1929–1939 гг.) 
3  service flat — квартира с гостиничным обслуживанием  

entirely on account of its strictly geometrical appearance and proportions.

‘But yes, my friend, it is of a most pleasing sym
metry, do you not find it so?’

I said that I thought there could be too much 

squareness and, alluding to an old joke, I asked if in 
this super-modern hostelry they managed to induce 
hens to lay square eggs.

Poirot laughed heartily.
‘Ah, you remember that? Alas! no—science has 

not yet induced the hens to conform to modern tastes, 
they still lay eggs of different sizes and colours!’

I examined my old friend with an affectionate eye. 

He was looking wonderfully well—hardly a day older 
than when I had last seen him.

‘You’re looking in fine fettle1, Poirot,’ I said. ‘You’ve 

hardly aged at all. In fact, if it were possible, I should 
say that you had fewer grey hairs than when I saw 
you last.’

Poirot beamed on me.
‘And why is that not possible? It is quite true.’
‘Do you mean your hair is turning from grey to 

black instead of from black to grey?’

‘Precisely.’
‘But surely that’s a scientific impossibility!’
‘Not at all.’

1  You’re looking in fine fettle — Вы прекрасно выглядите  

‘But that’s very extraordinary. It seems against 

nature.’

‘As usual, Hastings, you have the beautiful and un
suspicious mind. Years do not change that in you! You 
perceive a fact and mention the solution of it in the 
same breath without noticing that you are doing so!’

I stared at him, puzzled.
Without a word he walked into his bedroom and re
turned with a bottle in his hand which he handed to me.

I took it, for the moment uncomprehending.
It bore the words:

Revivit.—To bring back the natural tone of the 

hair. Revivit is not a dye. In five shades, Ash, Chestnut, 
Titian, Brown, Black.

‘Poirot,’ I cried. ‘You have dyed your hair!’
‘Ah, the comprehension comes to you!’
‘So that’s why your hair looks so much blacker 

than it did last time I was back.’

‘Exactly.’
‘Dear me1,’ I said, recovering from the shock. 

‘I suppose next time I come home I shall find you 
wearing false moustaches—or are you doing so now?’

Poirot winced. His moustaches had always been 

his sensitive point. He was inordinately proud of 
them. My words touched him on the raw2.

1  Dear me — Боже мой 
2  to touch smb. on the raw — задеть за живое 

‘No, no, indeed, mon ami1. That day, I pray the 

good God, is still far off. The false moustache! Quelle 
horreur!2‘  

He tugged at them vigorously to assure me of 

their genuine character.

‘Well, they are very luxuriant still,’ I said.
‘N’est ce pas?3 Never, in the whole of London, have 

I seen a pair of moustaches to equal mine.’

A good job too, I thought privately. But I would not 

for the world have hurt Poirot’s feelings by saying so.

Instead I asked if he still practised his profession 

on occasion.

‘I know,’ I said, ‘that you actually retired years 

ago—’

‘C’est vrai.4 To grow the vegetable marrows5! 

And immediately a murder occurs—and I send the 
vegetable marrows to promenade themselves to the 
devil. And since then—I know very well what you will 
say—I am like the prima donna who makes positively 
the farewell performance! That farewell performance, 
it repeats itself an indefinite number of times!’

I laughed.

1  mon ami (фр.) — мой друг 
2  Quelle horreur! (фр.) — Какой ужас!
3  N’est ce pas? (фр.) — Не правда ли? 
4  C’est vrai. (фр.) — Это правда. 
5  vegetable marrow — кабачок; тыква 

‘In truth, it has been very like that. Each time I 

say: this is the end. But no, something else arises! And 
I will admit it, my friend, the retirement I care for it 
not at all. If the little grey cells are not exercised, they 
grow the rust.’

‘I see,’ I said. ‘You exercise them in moderation.’ 

‘Precisely. I pick and choose. For Hercule Poirot nowadays only the cream of crime.’

‘Has there been much cream about?’
‘Pas mal1. Not long ago I had a narrow escape2.’
‘Of failure?’
‘No, no.’ Poirot looked shocked. ‘But I—I, Hercule 

Poirot, was nearly exterminated.’

I whistled.
‘An enterprising murderer!’
‘Not so much enterprising as careless,’ said Poirot. 

‘Precisely that—careless. But let us not talk of it. You 
know, Hastings, in many ways I regard you as my mascot.’ 

‘Indeed?’ I said. ‘In what ways?’
Poirot did not answer my question directly. He 

went on:

‘As soon as I heard you were coming over I said 

to myself: something will arise. As in former days we 
will hunt together, we two. But if so it must be no common affair. It must be something’—he waved his hands 

1  Pas mal (фр.) — Порядочно
2  to have a narrow escape — чудом избежать чего-то