Скрюченный домишко / Crooked House

CROOKED HOUSE
Комментарии и словарь  
П. Ларионовой

УДК 372.8
ББК 
81.2 Англ 
К82
Agatha Christie 
CROOKED HOUSE
В оформлении обложки использован 
фрагмент орнамента Уильяма Морриса
Кристи, Агата.
К82		
Скрюченный домишко : книга для чтения на английском языке / А. Кристи.  — Санкт-Петербург : 
КАРО, 2024. — 288 с. — (Detective story).
ISBN 978-5-9925-1721-7.
«Скрюченный домишко»  — роман, в котором Агата Кристи 
вновь предлагает читателю окунуться в мир загадок и тайн. В 
большом семействе совершено преступление, убит престарелый 
основатель большого бизнеса, миллионер Аристид Леонидис. Он 
обеспечил состоянием каждого члена семьи. Кому же была выгодна 
его смерть?
Раскрыть запутанное дело поможет внимательное чтение, 
подробные комментарии и небольшой словарик, данный в конце 
книги.
УДК 372.8 
ББК 81.2 Англ
Crooked House © 1949 
Agatha Christie Limited.  
All rights reserved.
AGATHA CHRISTIE© 
аnd the Agatha Christie Signature
аre registered trade marks of
Agatha Christie Limited in the UK
and elsewhere. All rights reserved.
© КАРО, 2024 
Все права защищены
ISBN 978-5-9925-1721-7

Author’s Foreword
This book is one of my own special favourites. 
I saved it up for years, thinking about it, working it 
out, saying to myself: ‘One day, when I’ve plenty of 
time, and want to really enjoy myself—I’ll begin it!’ 
I should say that of one’s output, five books are work 
to one that is real pleasure. was pure pleasure. I often 
wonder whether people who read a book can know 
if it has been hard work or a pleasure to write? Again 
and again someone says to me: ‘How you must have 
enjoyed writing so and so!’ This about a book that 
obstinately refused to come out the way you wished, 
whose characters are sticky, the plot needlessly involved, and the dialogue stilted—or so you think 
yourself. But perhaps the author isn’t the best judge 
of his or her own work. However, practically everybody has liked , so I am justified in my own belief that 
it is one of my best.
I don’t know what put the Leonides family into my 
head—they just came. Then, like Topsy ‘they growed’.
I feel that I myself was only their scribe.
®

CHAPTER 1
I first came to know Sophia Leonides in Egypt towards the end of the war. She held a fairly high administrative post in one of the Foreign Office departments 
out there. I knew her first in an official capacity1, and 
I soon appreciated the efficiency that had brought her 
to the position she held, in spite of her youth (she was 
at that time just twenty-two).
Besides being extremely easy to look at, she had 
a clear mind and a dry sense of humour2 that I found 
very delightful. We became friends. She was a person 
whom it was extraordinarily easy to talk to and we enjoyed our dinners and occasional dances very much.
All this I knew; it was not until I was ordered East 
at the close of the European war that I knew something else—that I loved Sophia and that I wanted to 
marry her.
1	 in an official capacity — в занимаемой должности
2	 dry sense of humour — сдержанное чувство юмора
4

We were dining at Shepheard’s when I made 
this discovery. It did not come to me with any shock 
of surprise, but more as the recognition of a fact with 
which I had been long familiar. I looked at her with new 
eyes—but I saw what I had already known for a long 
time. I liked everything I saw. The dark crisp hair that 
sprang up proudly from her forehead, the vivid blue 
eyes, the small square fighting chin, and the straight 
nose. I liked the well-cut light-grey tailor-made, and the 
crisp white shirt. She looked refreshingly English and 
that appealed to me strongly after three years without seeing my native land. Nobody, I thought, could 
be more English—and even as I was thinking exactly 
that, I suddenly wondered if, in fact, she was, or indeed 
could be, as English as she looked. Does the real thing 
ever have the perfection of a stage performance?
I realized that much and freely as we had talked 
together, discussing ideas, our likes and dislikes, the 
future, our immediate friends and acquaintances—
Sophia had never mentioned her home or her family. 
She knew all about me (she was, as I have indicated, a 
good listener) but about her I knew nothing. She had, 
I supposed, the usual background, but she had never 
talked about it. And until this moment I had never 
realized the fact.
Sophia asked me what I was thinking about.
I replied truthfully: ‘You.’
‘I see,’ she said. And she sounded as though she 
did see.
5

‘We may not meet again for a couple of years,’ 
I said. ‘I don’t know when I shall get back to England. 
But as soon as I do get back, the first thing I shall do 
will be to come and see you and ask you to marry me.’
She took it without batting an eyelash1. She sat 
there, smoking, not looking at me.
For a moment or two I was nervous that she might 
not understand.
‘Listen,’ I said. ‘The one thing I’m determined not 
to do, is to ask you to marry me now. That wouldn’t 
work out anyway. First you might turn me down, and 
then I’d go off miserable and probably tie up with 
some ghastly woman just to restore my vanity. And if 
you didn’t turn me down what could we do about it? 
Get married and part at once? Get engaged and settle 
down to a long waiting period? I couldn’t stand your 
doing that. You might meet someone else and feel 
bound to be “loyal” to me. We’ve been living in a queer 
hectic get-on-with-it-quickly atmosphere. Marriages 
and love affairs making and breaking all round us. I’d 
like to feel you’d gone home, free and independent, to 
look round you and size up2 the new post-war world 
and decide what you want out of it. What is between 
you and me, Sophia, has got to be permanent. I’ve no 
use for any other kind of marriage.’
‘No more have I,’ said Sophia.
1	 without batting an eyelash — не моргнув и глазом
2	 to size up — оценить
6

‘On the other hand,’ I said, ‘I think I’m entitled to 
let you know how I—well—how I feel.’
‘But without undue lyrical expression?’ murmured Sophia. 
‘Darling—don’t you understand? I’ve tried not to 
say I love you—’
She stopped me.
‘I do understand, Charles. And I like your funny 
way of doing things. And you may come and see me 
when you come back—if you still want to—’
It was my turn to interrupt.
‘There’s no doubt about that.’
‘There’s always a doubt about everything, Charles. 
There may always be some incalculable factor that 
upsets the apple-cart. For one thing, you don’t know 
much about me, do you?’ 
I don’t even know where you live in England.’
‘I live at Swinly Dean.’
I nodded at the mention of the well-known outer 
suburb of London which boasts three excellent golf 
courses for the city financier.
She added softly in a musing voice: In a little 
crooked house. . .’
I must have looked slightly startled, for she seemed 
amused, and explained by elaborating the quotation. 
‘“And they all lived together in a little crooked house.” 
That’s us. Not really such a little house either. But definitely crooked—running to gables and half-timbering!’
7

‘Are you one of a large family? Brothers and sisters?’
One brother, one sister, a mother, a father, an uncle, an aunt by marriage, a grandfather, a great-aunt, 
and a step-grandmother.’
‘Good gracious!’ I  exclaimed, slightly overwhelmed.
She laughed.
Of course we don’t normally all live together. The 
war and blitzes have brought that about—but I don’t 
know’— she frowned reflectively—‘perhaps spiritually the family has always lived together—under my 
grandfather’s eye and protection. He’s rather a Person, my grandfather. He’s over eighty, about four-foot 
ten, and everybody else looks rather dim beside him.’
‘He sounds interesting,’ I said.
‘He is interesting. He’s a Greek from Smyrna. 
Aristide Leonides.’ She added, with a twinkle, ‘He’s 
extremely rich.’
‘Will anybody be rich after this is over?’
‘My grandfather will,’ said Sophia with assurance. 
‘No soak-the-rich1 tactics would have any effect on 
him. He’d just soak the soakers.’
‘I wonder,’ she added, ‘if you’ll like him?’
‘Do you?’ I asked.
‘Better than anyone in the world,’ said Sophia.
1	 soak-the-rich (разг.) — «выкачай из богачей» (система, 
при которой бремя основных тягот налогообложения 
несут состоятельные классы общества)

CHAPTER 2
It was over two years before I returned to England. They were not easy years. I wrote to Sophia 
and heard from her fairly frequently. Her letters, 
like mine, were not love letters. They were letters 
written to each other by close friends—they dealt 
with1 ideas and thoughts and with comments on the 
daily trend of life. Yet I know that as far as I was 
concerned2, and I believed as far as Sophia was 
concerned too, our feelings for each other grew and 
strengthened.
I returned to England on a soft grey day in September. The leaves on the trees were golden in the 
evening light. There were playful gusts of wind. From 
the airfield I sent a telegram to Sophia.
‘Just arrived back. Will you dine this evening Mario’s nine o’clock Charles.’
1	 deal with (зд.) — делится (идеями)
2	 to be concerned — быть не безразличным к к.-л.
9

A couple of hours later I was sitting reading 
the Times1; and scanning the Births, Marriages and 
Deaths column my eye was caught by the name 
 
Leonides:
On Sept. 19th, at Three Gables, Swinly Dean, 
Aristide Leonides, beloved husband of Brenda  
Leonides, in his eighty-eighth year. Deeply regretted.
There was another announcement immediately 
below:
LEONIDES—Suddenly, at his residence, Three 
Gables, Swinly Dean, Aristide Leonides. Deeply 
mourned by his loving children and grandchildren. Flowers to St Eldred’s 
Church, Swinly Dean.
I found the two announcements rather curious. 
There seemed to have been some faulty staff work 
resulting in overlapping. But my main preoccupation 
was Sophia. I hastily sent her a second telegram:
‘Just seen news of your grandfather’s death. 
Very sorry. Let me know when I can see you. 
Charles.’
A telegram from Sophia reached me at six o’clock 
at my father’s house. It said:
‘Will be at Mario’s nine o’clock. Sophia.’
1	 the Times — «Таймс», ежедневная газета в Великобритании, выходит в печать с 1785 года.
10