Villa « White horse»
To John and Helen Mildmay White with deep gratitude for giving me the opportunity to see justice done
Foreword by Mark Easterbrook
I think there are two approaches to unusual story Villa "White Horse" Even the saying of the chess king will not do here. After all, you can’t say to yourself: “Start from the beginning, reach the end and then stop.” And where does it really start?
This is always the main difficulty for the historian. How to determine the starting point historical period? In this case, Father Gorman's visit to a dying parishioner can serve as a starting point. Or one evening in Chelsea.
Since it fell to me to write most narration, I, perhaps, from that evening will begin.
MARK EASTERBROOKE SAYS
The espresso machine hissed behind me like an angry snake. There was something ominous in this hiss, some kind of devilry. Perhaps, I thought, any noise now almost always inspires anxiety, frightens. Terrible, frightening roar of jets in the sky overhead; the alarming rumble of subway cars as the train crawls out of the tunnel; the rumble of an endless flow of city traffic, shaking your house... Even the familiar sounds of household use, in fact harmless, are alarming. Dishwashers, refrigerators, pressure cookers, howling vacuum cleaners all warn: “Beware! I am the genie that you keep in check, but loosen the reins a little ... "
Dangerous world, truly dangerous.
I stirred flavored coffee in a steaming cup in front of me.
- Will you order anything else? Ham and banana sandwich?
The combination seemed unusual to me. Bananas are a childhood memory for me, or they are served on a platter sprinkled with powdered sugar and drenched in flaming rum. Ham in my mind is associated only with scrambled eggs. But since it's customary to eat banana-ham sandwiches in Chelsea, I didn't refuse.
Although I lived in Chelsea, that is, rented a furnished apartment for the last three months, I was a stranger here. I was working on a book on some aspects of Mughal architecture in India and might as well have settled in Hempstead, Bloomsbury, Streatham as I had in Chelsea. I lived apart, occupied only with work, not paying attention to what was happening around, I was not interested in my neighbors, and they, in turn, did not show the slightest interest in my person.
That evening, however, I was attacked by a disgust for my own righteous works, familiar to all writers.
Mughal architecture, Mughal emperors, Mughal customs - the most fascinating problems suddenly seemed to me as decay, ashes. Who needs it? Why would I want to do this?
I flipped through the pages, rereading some of what had been written. Everything is bad - the style is disgusting, boring mortal. Whoever said: "History is nonsense" (Henry Ford, I think?), He was absolutely right.
Putting the manuscript aside in my heart, I got up and looked at the clock. It was about eleven. I tried to remember if I had lunch today, and from an inner feeling I realized - no. I ate in the afternoon at the Ateneum, and since then there have been no crumbs in my mouth.
I looked in the fridge, I saw some unappetizing slices boiled tongue and decided - I need to go somewhere to eat. That's how it happened that I ended up on King's Road and wandered into a coffee bar. I was attracted by the glowing red neon inscription on the window: “Luigi”. And now, sitting at the counter, I was looking at a ham and banana sandwich and thinking about how ominous any noise has become these days, and about its effect on the environment.
For some reason these thoughts evoked childhood impressions in my memory. Pantomime performance for kids. A miserable stage, manhole covers in the floor, Davy Jones jumps out of the box in a puff of smoke; infernal monsters appear in the windows, the forces of evil, challenging the Good Fairy named Diamond (or something like that). She, in turn, waves a short wand, shouts out in a choked voice hackneyed truths about unfading hope and the triumph of good, anticipating the highlight of the program - the final song. It is sung in chorus by all the performers, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the plot of the pantomime.
I suddenly thought: evil, perhaps, is always more impressive than good. Evil is bound to cloak in fancy clothes. And scary! And challenges the whole world. Unsteady, devoid of a foundation, it comes into conflict with the strong, stable, eternal - that which sounds in words Good Fairy. And in the end, I reasoned, what is solid and stable according to the logic of life invariably wins. This is the key to the success of simple children's extravaganzas. And he is not a hindrance to mediocre verses and banal monologues of the Good Fairy, her choked, raspy voice. And even the fact that in the final chant the words are not at all to the village or to the city: “The path winds through the hills, runs to my favorite places.” Such artists seem to have little talent, but for some reason they convincingly show how good wins. The performance always ends in the same way: the troupe in in full force, led by the main characters, descends the stairs to the audience. The wonderful Fairy Brilliantik - the very virtue and Christian humility - does not at all strive to be the first (or in this case the last). She is in the middle of the procession, side by side with her recent nemesis. And he is no longer the proud Demon King, but just a tired actor in red leggings.
The espresso hissed again. I ordered another cup of coffee and looked around. My sister constantly reproaches me for my lack of observation, for not noticing anything around me. “You always withdraw into yourself,” she says accusingly. And now, with the consciousness of the responsibility entrusted to me, I began to carefully examine the hall. Every day there is bound to be something in the papers about the bars of Chelsea and their patrons, and I had the opportunity to write own opinion about modern life.
The cafe was dim, and it was difficult to see anything clearly. The visitors are almost all young people. As far as I understand, one of those young people who are called beatniks. The girls looked very messy. And in my opinion, they were too warmly dressed. I already noticed this when I was having lunch with friends at a restaurant a few weeks ago. The girl who was then sitting next to me was no more than twenty. It was hot in the restaurant, and she dressed up in a yellow wool sweater, black skirt and woolen stockings. Sweat rolled down her face all through dinner. She reeked of sweat and unwashed hair. My friends found it very interesting. I did not share their opinion. All I wanted was to put her in a hot bath and give her a bar of soap. Apparently I'm out of touch with life. After all, I remember with pleasure the women of India, their strict hairstyles, graceful gait, bright saris, flowing with noble folds.
I was distracted from pleasant memories by an unexpected noise. Two young ladies at the next table started a quarrel. Their gentlemen tried to calm their friends, but in vain.
The girls started screaming. One slapped the other in the face, and she pulled her off the chair. They began to fight like bazaar women, swearing at each other. One was red and her hair stuck out in all directions, the other was blonde with long strands hanging over her face. What started the fight, I have no idea. Visitors accompanied the scene with encouraging exclamations and meows:
- Well done! So her, Lou!
The owner, a skinny boy with sideburns whom I thought was Luigi, intervened, speaking like a native of London's poor quarters.
Mark Easterbrook, a man of a scientific disposition and rather conservative views, once observes in one of the Chelsea bars a scene that struck him: two girls dressed sloppy and too warm (thick sweaters, thick woolen stockings), quarreling over a gentleman, grabbed each other's hair , so much so that one of them, a redhead, parted with whole shreds. The girls are separated. To expressions of sympathy, the red-haired Thomasina Tuckerton replies that she did not even feel pain. The owner of the bar, after Tommy leaves, tells Mark about her: a rich heiress settles in Chelsea, spends time with the same idlers like her.
A week after this chance meeting, Mark sees in The Times an announcement of the death of Thomasina Tuckerton.
A boy runs after the priest Father Gorman and calls him to the dying Mrs. Davis. Woman out of breath last strength tells Father Gorman about the terrible villainy and asks him to put an end to it. Shocked priest, not fully believing horror story(perhaps this is just a product of a feverish delirium), nevertheless he goes into a small cafe and, having ordered a cup of coffee, which he hardly touches, writes down on a slip of paper the names of people called by a woman. Remembering that the housekeeper again did not sew up the hole in his pocket, Father Gorman hides the note in his shoe, as he has done more than once. Then he heads home. He is deafened by a heavy blow to the head. Father Gorman staggers and falls ... The police, who discovered the corpse of a priest, are at a loss: who needed to kill him? Unless it's a note hidden in a shoe. There are several surnames: Ormerod, Sandford, Parkinson, Hesketh-Dubois, Shaw, Harmondsworth, Tuckerton, Corrigan, Delafontaine ... On trial, Police Inspector Lejeune and an intrigued Dr. Corrigan, a forensic surgeon, call Lady Hesketh-Dubois, looking for her number in the handbook. It turns out that she died five months ago.
One of the witnesses interviewed in the murder of Gorman's father, the pharmacist Mr. Osborne, claims to have seen a man walking behind the priest, and gives a clear description of his appearance: sloping shoulders, a large hooked nose, a protruding Adam's apple, long hair, high growth.
Mark Easterbrook and his friend Hermia Radcliffe (an impeccable classic profile and a hat of brown hair), having watched Macbeth at the Old Vic Theater, go to dinner at a restaurant. There they meet an acquaintance, David Ardingly, a professor of history at Oxford. He introduces them to his companion, Pam. The girl is pretty, with a fashionable hairstyle, with huge blue eyes and, as Mark slandered, "incredibly stupid." The conversation turns to the play, the old good times when "you hire a killer, and he removes whoever you need." Unexpectedly, Pam enters into the conversation, noticing that even now you can deal with a person if necessary. Then she is embarrassed, confused, and in Mark's memory of all that has been said, only the name "White Horse" remains.
Soon, "White Horse", as the name of the tavern, in a much less sinister context, appears in a conversation between Mark and a familiar writer, author of detective stories, Mrs. Oliver. Mark persuades her to take part in a charity event organized by him. cousin Road.
Mark accidentally meets Jim Corrigan, with whom he once, about fifteen years ago, was friends in Oxford. It comes to a mysterious list found on Gorman's father. The late Lady Haskett-Dubois was Mark's aunt, and he is willing to vouch that she was respectable, law-abiding and had no ties to the underworld.
Mark participates in a holiday organized by Rouda. The "White Horse" turns out to be close to Rhode's house in the suburbs of London. This is not a tavern, this is a former hotel. Now three women live in this house, built in the 16th century. One of them, Tirza Grey, tall woman with short cropped hair, is engaged in the occult sciences, spiritualism and magic. The other is her friend Sybil Stamfordis, a medium. Gets dressed in oriental style, hung with necklaces and scarabs. Their cook Bella is known in the district as a witch, and her gift is hereditary - her mother was considered a witch.
Road is led by Mark, Mrs Oliver and redhead girl nicknamed Ginger (by profession she is a painting restorer) to visit her neighbor, Mr. Winables, extremely rich and interesting person. Once he was an avid traveler, but after suffering from polio a few years ago, he can only move in a wheelchair. Mr. Winables is about fifty, with a thin face with a large hooked nose and an affable disposition. He is happy to show his beautiful collections to the guests.
After that, the whole company goes to a tea party at the White Horse at the invitation of Tirza Grey. Tirza shows Mark his library, which contains books related to witchcraft and magic, among which there are rare medieval editions. Tirza claims that now science has expanded the horizons of witchcraft. In order to kill a person, it is necessary to awaken in him a subconscious desire for death, then he, succumbing to some self-suggested illness, inevitably and soon dies.
From a casual conversation with Mrs. Oliver, Mark learns of the death of her friend, Mary Delafontaine, whose last name he saw on a list found on Gorman's father.
Mark ponders what he has heard from Tirza. It becomes clear to him that help of three witches living in the White Horse Villa are successfully resorted to by people who want to get rid of their loved ones. At the same time, the sanity of a person living in the 20th century prevents him from believing in the action of witchcraft forces. He decides to solve the mystery mysterious deaths, to understand whether the three witches from the "White Horse" can really destroy a person, Mark asks for help from his friend Hermia, but she is absorbed in her scientific pursuits, Mark's "medieval sorceresses" seem to her complete nonsense. Then Mark resorts to the help of Ginger-Ginger, a girl whom he met at a festival near Rhodes.
Ginger, whose real name is Katherine Corrigan (another coincidence!), wants to help Mark. She advises him, under some pretext, to visit Thomasina Tuckerton's stepmother, now the owner of a huge inheritance. Mark does just that, easily finding an excuse: the Tuckerton house, it turns out, was created according to an unusual project. famous architect Nash. At the mention of the "White Horse", a clear fear appears on the face of the widow Tuckerton. Ginger at this time is looking for Pam, from whom Mark first heard about the "White Horse". She manages to make friends with Pam and find out from her the address of a man named Bradley, who lives in Birmingham. Those who need the help of the "White Horse" turn to this person.
Mark visits Bradley and it becomes clear to him how the assassination is ordered. For example, a client contacting Bradley claims that his wealthy aunt or jealous wife will be alive and well at Christmas (or Easter), and Mr. Bradley makes a bet with him that they won't. The winner (and it always turns out to be Mr. Bradley) receives the amount for which the bet was made. Upon learning of this, Ginger decides to portray Mark's wife (his real wife died fifteen years ago in Italy when she was driving in a car with her lover - this is Mark's old wound), which allegedly does not give him a divorce, and he cannot marry Hermia Radcliffe.
Having made an appropriate bet with Bradley, Mark Easterbrook, with a heavy heart, worried that he is endangering Ginger's life, goes to the White Horse Villa. He brings - as ordered - an item belonging to his "wife", a suede glove, and is present at the magic session.
Sybil is in a trance, Tirza puts a glove into some apparatus and adjusts it according to the compass, Bella sacrifices a white cockerel, whose blood is smeared on the glove.
According to the terms of the agreement, Mark had to leave London, and now he calls Ginger daily. On the first day, everything is in order, nothing suspicious, only an electrician came in to take the meter reading, some woman asked what cosmetics and medicines Ginger prefers, another one for donations for the blind.
But the next day, Ginger has a fever, a sore throat, and aching bones. Terrified, Mark returns to London. Ginger is admitted to a private clinic. Doctors find she has pneumonia, but the treatment is slow and not very successful. Mark invites Pam to dinner. In a conversation with her, a new name pops up - Eileen Brandon, who once worked in a consumer accounting office, somehow connected with the White Horse.
Mrs. Oliver calls Mark and tells how his aunt was dying (she learned about this from her new maid, who previously worked for Lady Hasket-Dubois). Her hair was falling out in clumps. And Mrs. Oliver, with her writing memory and detective inclinations, remembered that she had recently dead friend Mary Delafontaine's hair was falling out too. Here? Before Mark's eyes there is a fight in a bar, Thomasin Tuckerton, and he suddenly understands what's going on. Once he happened to read an article about thallium poisoning. People who worked at the factory died from a variety of diseases, but one symptom was common - everyone lost their hair. Thanks to the timely intervention of Mark, Ginger begins to be treated for thallium poisoning.
Mark and Inspector Lejeune meet with Eileen Brandon. She talks about her job at a consumer accounting firm. She went around people on the list and asked a series of questions regarding their consumer interests. But she was embarrassed that the questions were asked haphazardly, as if to divert her eyes. At one time she consulted with another employee, Mrs. Davis. But she did not dispel her suspicions, rather, on the contrary. “This whole office is just a sign for a gang of bandits,” such was the opinion of Mrs. Davis. She told Eileen that she once saw a man leaving a house "where he had absolutely nothing to do," carrying a bag of tools. It becomes clear that Mrs. Davis also fell victim to the "gang of bandits", and the revelations that she shared with Father Gorman cost him his life.
Three weeks later, Inspector Lejeune with a sergeant, Mark Easterbrook and the pharmacist Mr. Osborne (who believes Winables is the murderer of Gorman's father) arrive at Mr. Winables' villa. The inspector talks to the owner of the house and, apparently, suspects him of leading the organization of the murders. In addition, a bag of thallium was found in Winables' garden shed. Lejeune makes lengthy accusations against Mr. Winables, going back to the evening Father Gorman was killed. Osborne breaks down and begins to agree, screaming excitedly, as he saw Mr. Winables. However, Lejeune refutes his allegations and accuses Osborne himself of killing the priest, adding to this: “If you sat quietly in your pharmacy, maybe you would get away with everything.” Lejeune had long since begun to suspect Osborne, and the whole visit to Mr. Winables had been a deliberate trap. The package with thallium was thrown into the shed by the same Osborne.
Mark finds Ginger at the White Horse Villa, which has lost its sinister inhabitants. Ginger is still pale and thin, and her hair has not grown back properly, but the old enthusiasm shines in her eyes. Mark hints at Ginger's love, but she demands a formal proposal - and gets it. Ginger asks if Mark really doesn't want to marry "his Hermia"? Remembering, Mark pulls out of his pocket a letter received the other day from Hermia, in which she invites him to go to the Old Vic Theater for Love's Labour's Lost. Ginger resolutely tears up the letter.
“If you want to go to the Old Vic, you will only go with me now,” she says in a tone that does not allow for objections.
Mark Easterbrook says
The espresso machine hissed behind me like an angry snake. I stirred in the cup. It smelled like coffee from her.
- Will you order anything else? Ham and banana sandwich?
This combination seemed unusual to me. Bananas are associated with my childhood. Ham, in my opinion, is only paired with scrambled eggs. However, to live with wolves is to howl like a wolf: in Chelsea it is customary to eat such sandwiches, and I did not refuse.
The espresso hissed again. I ordered more coffee and looked around.
My sister constantly reproaches me for my lack of observation, for not noticing anything around me. “You always withdraw into yourself,” she says accusingly. And now I began to carefully monitor everything around. Every day there is bound to be something in the papers about the bars of Chelsea and their patrons, and now I have the opportunity to form my own opinion of modern life. The cafe was dim, I could hardly see anything. The visitors, mostly young people, were the type of young people who are called beatniks. The girls looked very sloppy and were too warmly dressed. I already noticed this when I was having lunch with friends at a restaurant a few weeks ago. The girl who was then sitting next to me was twenty years old. Everyone in the restaurant was languishing in the heat, and she dressed up in a yellow wool sweater, a black skirt and black wool stockings. My friends found it very interesting. I did not share their opinion. This probably shows how lagged behind life I am. After all, I remember with pleasure the women of India, their strict hairstyles, bright saris, flowing with noble folds, graceful gait ...
I was distracted from these pleasant memories by an unexpected noise.
Two young women at the next table started a quarrel. Their gentlemen tried to calm their girlfriends, but in vain.
The girls turned to screaming. One gave the other a slap in the face, and she pulled her off the chair. One was red, and her hair stuck out in all directions, the other was blonde with long strands falling over her face.
Because of what the quarrel began, I did not understand. Visitors accompanied her with encouraging exclamations and meowing.
- Well done! So her, Lou!
The owner ran out from behind the bar and tried to appease the opponents.
- Well, that's enough! Not enough police yet.
But the blonde grabbed the redhead's hair, shouting at the same time:
"Shit, you're taking my friend away from me!"
The girls were separated. The blonde had red strands in her hands. She gleefully shook them in the air and threw them on the floor.
The front door opened. A representative of the government in blue uniform appeared on the threshold of the cafe. He majestically said:
- What's going on here?
All cafes met the enemy with a united front.
“Just having fun,” one of the young people said.
He discreetly kicked tufts of hair under the next table with his foot. The opponents smiled at each other with feigned tenderness. The policeman looked around the cafe incredulously.
"We're just leaving," the blonde said in a sweet voice. Let's go, Doug.
Coincidentally, several more people were about to leave.
The guard looked at them darkly. His gaze clearly indicated that this time they would get away with it, but he would take note of them. Then he left with dignity.
The red-haired girl's cavalier paid the bill.
— How are you, nothing? the owner asked the redhead, who was tying her head with a scarf. Lou has torn out a lot of hair.
“But I didn’t feel any pain,” the girl replied carelessly.
Radio play based on a detective story
Agatha Christie "White Horse Villa"
Recorded in 1991.
Actors and performers:
Mark Insterbrook - Anatoly Adoskin.
Lejeune - Evgeny Vesnik.
Ginger - Larisa Grebenshchikova.
Bradley - Vsevolod Larionov.
Osborn - Viktor Sergachev.
Road - Lyubov Strizhenova.
Tirza - Ludmila Shaposhnikova.
Sibiil - Tatyana Pankova.
Winables - Roman Filippov.
Mrs. Tuckerton - Vera Vasilyeva.
Peng - artist Tatyana Kuryanova.
In the episodes - artists of Moscow theaters.
White horse "(eng. The Pale Horse) - a detective story English writer Agatha Christie, written in 1961. The book contains one of famous heroes Christy is detective writer Ariadne Oliver.
annotation
A series of mysterious accidents - or ancient sorcery? Rituals of black magic - or crimes, brilliantly conceived and carefully planned? Murder is murder. Where it is committed, there is bound to be a clue or evidence. At least one thread to pull...
Agatha Christie (Agata Christie) - pseudonym; real name - Mary Clarissa Agatha Miller 09/15/1890-01/12/1976, Great Britain.
Agatha Christie. Classic detective genre, "queen of the detective".
Future Agatha Christie youngest daughter in a family of immigrants from the United States, received non-systematic home education, studied music a little in France, acquired the profession of a nurse in the mid-10s of the 20th century and worked in a hospital during the First World War.
different in childhood developed imagination combined with intense shyness. “The people I imagined,” Christie wrote, “were more real to me than those around me actually.” It is believed that the reason Christie turned to the detective was a dispute with her older sister Madge (who had already proved herself as a writer). The result was the novel The Mysterious Affair at Styles. Agatha Christie's first fee was £25. Art. So, in 1920, the little Belgian Hercule Poirot appeared in literature, followed by a couple of amateur detectives Tuppence and Beresford, a year later - Colonel Race, followed by Police Inspector Battle, and ten years after the appearance of Poirot, the observant old lady Miss Marple. From the pen of Agatha Christie came out about 70 novels, many stories, plays, published with a total circulation of about half a billion copies worldwide. Since 1958 she has been the permanent president of the English Detective Club. Queen Elizabeth granted her a title of nobility.
Mark Easterbrook, a man of a scientific disposition and rather conservative views, once observes in one of the Chelsea bars a scene that struck him: two girls dressed sloppy and too warm (thick sweaters, thick woolen stockings), quarreling over a gentleman, grabbed each other's hair , so much so that one of them, a redhead, parted with whole shreds. The girls are separated. To expressions of sympathy, the red-haired Thomasina Tuckerton replies that she did not even feel pain. The owner of the bar, after Tommy leaves, tells Mark about her: a rich heiress settles in Chelsea, spends time with the same idlers like her.
A week after this chance meeting, Mark sees in The Times an announcement of the death of Thomasina Tuckerton.
A boy runs after the priest Father Gorman and calls him to the dying Mrs. Davis. The woman, gasping for breath, tells her father Gorman about the terrible atrocity and asks him to put an end to it. The shocked priest, not completely believing the terrible story (perhaps this is just a product of feverish delirium), nevertheless goes into a small cafe and, having ordered a cup of coffee, which he hardly touches, writes down on a piece of paper that has turned up the names of people named by a woman. Remembering that the housekeeper again did not sew up the hole in his pocket, Father Gorman hides the note in his shoe, as he has done more than once. Then he heads home. He is deafened by a heavy blow to the head. Father Gorman staggers and falls ... The police, who discovered the corpse of a priest, are at a loss: who needed to kill him? Unless it's a note hidden in a shoe. There are several names there: Ormerod, Sandford, Parkinson, Hesketh-Dubois, Shaw, Harmondsworth, Tuckerton, Corrigan, Delafontaine ... As a test, Police Inspector Lejeune and an intrigued Dr. Corrigan, a forensic surgeon, call Lady Hesketh-Dubois by phone, looking for her number in the directory . It turns out that she died five months ago.
One of the witnesses interviewed in the case of the murder of Gorman's father, the pharmacist Mr. Osborne, claims to have seen a man walking behind the priest, and gives a clear description of his appearance: sloping shoulders, large hooked nose, protruding Adam's apple, long hair, tall stature.
Mark Easterbrook and his friend Hermia Radcliffe (an impeccable classic profile and a hat of brown hair), having watched Macbeth at the Old Vic Theater, go to dinner at a restaurant. There they meet an acquaintance, David Ardingly, a professor of history at Oxford. He introduces them to his companion, Pam. The girl is very pretty, with a fashionable hairstyle, with huge blue eyes and, as Mark slanders, "impenetrably stupid." The conversation turns to the play, the good old days, when you hire a killer and he takes out whoever you need. Unexpectedly, Pam enters into the conversation, noticing that even now you can deal with a person if necessary. Then she is embarrassed, confused, and in Mark's memory of all that has been said, only the name "White Horse" remains.
Soon, "White Horse", as the name of the tavern, in a much less sinister context, appears in a conversation between Mark and a familiar writer, author of detective stories, Mrs. Oliver. Mark persuades her to take part in a charity event organized by his cousin Rhoda.
Mark accidentally meets Jim Corrigan, with whom he once, about fifteen years ago, was friends in Oxford. It comes to a mysterious list found on Gorman's father. The late Lady Haskett-Dubois was Mark's aunt, and he is willing to vouch that she was respectable, law-abiding, and unconnected with the underworld.
Mark participates in a holiday organized by Rouda. The "White Horse" turns out to be close to Rhode's house in the suburbs of London. This is not a tavern, this is a former hotel. Now three women live in this house, built in the 16th century. One of them, Tirza Grey, is a tall woman with short hair, who practices the occult, spiritualism and magic. The other is her friend Sybil Stamfordis, a medium. Dressed in oriental style, hung with necklaces and scarabs. Their cook Bella is reputed to be a witch in the district, and her gift is hereditary - her mother was considered a witch.
Road takes Mark, Mrs. Oliver, and a red-haired girl called Ginger (she is an art restorer by profession) to visit her neighbor, Mr. Winables, an extremely rich and interesting man. He was once an avid traveler, but after suffering from polio a few years ago, he can only move around in a wheelchair. Mr. Winables is about fifty, with a thin face with a large hooked nose and an affable disposition. He is happy to show his beautiful collections to the guests.
After that, the whole company goes to a tea party at the White Horse at the invitation of Tirza Grey. Tirza shows Mark his library, which contains books related to witchcraft and magic, among which there are rare medieval editions. Tirza claims that now science has expanded the horizons of witchcraft. In order to kill a person, it is necessary to awaken in him a subconscious desire for death, then he, succumbing to some self-suggested illness, inevitably and soon dies.
From a casual conversation with Mrs. Oliver, Mark learns of the death of her friend, Mary Delafontaine, whose last name he saw on a list found on Gorman's father.
Mark ponders what he has heard from Tirza. It becomes clear to him that people who want to get rid of their loved ones successfully resort to the help of the three witches living in the White Horse Villa. At the same time, the sanity of a person living in the 20th century prevents him from believing in the action of witchcraft forces. He decides to find out the mystery of mysterious deaths, to understand whether the three witches from the "White Horse" can really kill a person, Mark asks for help from his friend Hermia, but she is absorbed in her scientific pursuits, Mark's "medieval witches" seem to her complete nonsense. Then Mark resorts to the help of Ginger-Ginger, a girl whom he met at a festival near Rhodes.
Ginger, whose real name is Katherine Corrigan (another coincidence!), wants to help Mark. She advises him, under some pretext, to visit Thomasina Tuckerton's stepmother, now the owner of a huge inheritance. Mark does just that, easily finding an excuse: the Tuckerton house, it turns out, was created according to an unusual design by the famous architect Nash. At the mention of the "White Horse", a clear fear appears on the face of the widow Tuckerton. Ginger at this time is looking for Pam, from whom Mark first heard about the "White Horse". She manages to make friends with Pam and find out from her the address of a man named Bradley, who lives in Birmingham. Those who need the help of the "White Horse" turn to this person.
Mark visits Bradley and it becomes clear to him how the assassination is ordered. For example, a client who contacts Bradley claims that his wealthy aunt or jealous wife will be alive and well at Christmas (or Easter), while Mr. Bradley bets him that they won't. The winner (and it always turns out to be Mr. Bradley) receives the amount for which the bet was made. Upon learning of this, Ginger decides to portray Mark's wife (his real wife died fifteen years ago in Italy when she was driving in a car with her lover - this is Mark's old wound), which allegedly does not give him a divorce, and he cannot marry Hermia Radcliffe.
Having made an appropriate bet with Bradley, Mark Easterbrook, with a heavy heart, worried that he is endangering Ginger's life, goes to the White Horse Villa. He brings - as ordered - an item belonging to his "wife", a suede glove, and is present at the magic session.
Sybil is in a trance, Tirza puts a glove into some apparatus and adjusts it according to the compass, Bella sacrifices a white cockerel, whose blood is smeared on the glove.
According to the terms of the agreement, Mark had to leave London, and now he calls Ginger daily. On the first day, everything was in order, nothing suspicious, only an electrician came in to take meter readings, some woman asked what cosmetics and medicines Ginger preferred, another one for donations for the blind.
But the next day, Ginger has a fever, a sore throat, and aching bones. Terrified, Mark returns to London. Ginger is admitted to a private clinic. Doctors find she has pneumonia, but treatment is slow and not very successful. Mark invites Pam to dinner. In a conversation with her, a new name pops up - Eileen Brandon, who once worked in a consumer accounting office, somehow connected with the White Horse.
Mrs. Oliver calls Mark and tells how his aunt was dying (she learned about this from her new maid, who previously worked for Lady Hasket-Dubois). Her hair was falling out in clumps. And Mrs. Oliver, with her writing memory and detective tendencies, remembered that her recently deceased friend Mary Delafontaine had her hair falling out too. Here? Before Mark's eyes there is a fight in a bar, Thomasina Tuckerton, and he suddenly understands what is happening. Once he happened to read an article about thallium poisoning. People who worked at the factory died from a variety of diseases, but one symptom was common - everyone lost their hair. Thanks to the timely intervention of Mark, Ginger begins to be treated for thallium poisoning.
Mark and Inspector Lejeune meet with Eileen Brandon. She talks about her job at a consumer accounting firm. She went around people on the list and asked a series of questions regarding their consumer interests. But she was embarrassed that the questions were asked haphazardly, as if to divert her eyes. At one time she consulted with another employee, Mrs. Davis. But she did not dispel her suspicions, rather, on the contrary. “This whole office is just a sign for a gang of bandits,” such was the opinion of Mrs. Davis. She told Eileen that she once saw a man leaving a house "where he had absolutely nothing to do," carrying a bag of tools. It becomes clear that Mrs. Davis also fell victim to the "gang of bandits", and the revelations that she shared with Father Gorman cost him his life.
Three weeks later, Inspector Lejeune with a sergeant, Mark Easterbrook and the pharmacist Mr. Osborne (who believes Winables is the murderer of Gorman's father) arrive at Mr. Winables' villa. The inspector talks to the owner of the house and, apparently, suspects him of leading the organization of the murders. In addition, a bag of thallium was found in Winables' garden shed. Lejeune makes lengthy accusations against Mr. Winables, going back to the evening Father Gorman was killed. Osborne can't stand it and begins to agree, screaming excitedly, as he saw Mr. Winables. However, Lejeune refutes his allegations and accuses Osborne himself of killing the priest, adding to this: “If you sat quietly in your pharmacy, maybe you would get away with everything.” Lejeune had long since begun to suspect Osborne, and the whole visit to Mr. Winables had been a deliberate trap. The package with thallium was thrown into the shed by the same Osborne.
Mark finds Ginger at the White Horse Villa, which has lost its sinister inhabitants. Ginger is still pale and thin, and her hair has not grown back properly, but her eyes glow with the same enthusiasm. Mark hints at Ginger's love, but she demands a formal proposal - and gets it. Ginger asks if Mark really doesn't want to marry "his Hermia"? Remembering, Mark pulls out of his pocket a letter received the other day from Hermia, in which she invites him to go to the Old Vic Theater for Love's Labour's Lost. Ginger resolutely tears up the letter.
“If you want to go to the Old Vic, you will only go with me now,” she says in a tone that does not allow for objections.
