Sparkling Cyanide by Agatha Christie Read Free Book Online

time was to be had by all, no more, no less.
    Well, he'd enjoyed it. And Rosemary had enjoyed it too. She danced like an angel and wherever he took her men turned round to stare at her. It gave a fellow a pleasant feeling. So long as you didn't expect her to talk. He thanked his stars he wasn't married to her. Once you got used to all that perfection of face and form where would you be? She couldn't even listen intelligently. The sort of girl who would expect you to tell her every morning at the breakfast table that you loved her passionately!
    Oh, all very well to think those things now. He'd fallen for her all right, hadn't he?
    Danced attendance on her. Rung her up, taken her out, danced with her, kissed her in the taxi. Been in a fair way to making rather a fool of himself over her until that startling, that incredible day.
    He could remember just how she had looked, the piece of chestnut hair that had fallen loose over one ear, the lowered lashes and the gleam of her dark blue eyes through them. The pout of the soft red lips.
    “Anthony Browne. It's a nice name!”
    He said lightly: “Eminently well established and respectable. There was a chamberlain to Henry the Eighth called Anthony Browne.”
    “An ancestor, I suppose?”
    “I wouldn't swear to that.”
    “You'd better not!”
    He raised his eyebrows. “I'm the Colonial branch.”
    “Not the Italian one?”
    “Oh,” he laughed. “My olive complexion? I had a Spanish mother.”
    “That explains it.”
    “Explains what?”
    “A great deal, Mr Anthony Browne.”
    “You're very fond of my name.”
    “I said so. It's a nice name.”
    And then quickly like a bolt from the blue: “Nicer than Tony Morelli.”
    For a moment he could hardly believe his ears! It was incredible! Impossible! He caught her by the arm. In the harshness of his grip she winced away.
    “Oh, you're hurting me!”
    “Where did you get hold of that name?” His voice was harsh, menacing.
    She laughed, delighted with the effect she had produced. The incredible little fool!
    “Who told you?”
    “Someone who recognised you.”
    “Who was it? This is serious, Rosemary. I've got to know.”
    She shot a sideways glance at him.
    “A disreputable cousin of mine, Victor Drake.”
    “I've never met anyone of that name.”
    “I imagine he wasn't using that name at the time you knew him. Saving the family feelings.”
    Anthony said slowly, “I see. It was - in prison?”
    “Yes. I was reading Victor the riot act - telling him he was a disgrace to us all. He didn't care, of course. Then he grinned and said, 'You aren't always so particular yourself, sweetheart. I saw you the other night dancing with an ex-gaol-bird - one of your best boy friends, in fact. Calls himself Anthony Browne, I hear, but in stir he was Tony Morelli'.”
    Anthony said in a light voice: “I must renew my acquaintance with this friend of my youth. We old prison ties must stick together.”
    Rosemary shook her head. “Too late. He's been shipped off to South America. He sailed yesterday.”
    “I see.” Anthony drew a deep breath. “So you're the only person who knows my guilty secret?”
    She nodded. “I won't tell on you.”
    “You'd better not.” His voice grew stern. “Look here, Rosemary, this is dangerous. You don't want your lovely face carved up, do you? There are people who don't stick at a little thing like ruining a girl's beauty. And there's such a thing as being bumped off. It doesn't only happen in books and films. It happens in real life, too.”
    “Are you threatening me, Tony?”
    “Warning you.”
    Would she take the warning? Did she realise that he was in deadly earnest? Silly little fool. No sense in that lovely empty head. You couldn't rely on her to keep her mouth shut. All the same he'd have to try and ram his meaning home.
    “Forget you've ever heard the name of Tony Morelli? Do you understand?”
    “But I don't mind a bit, Tony. I'm broadminded. It's quite a thrill for me to meet a