Сборник рассказов на английском языке. Мистика и детективы. Intermediate. Домашнее чтение с заданиями и ответами

“Sorry, but this picture isn’t for sale,” the manager replied coldly.

“What do you mean, not for sale? Then why is it on the display?”

“You are not the first person in our antique shop who would like to see this work of art in a collection. This picture is not for sale. Let me explain: The picture is our charm. It has been here since we started this business. As long as we have it, we believe our family business will only thrive. So, no,” the manager said in a cool tone.

“Who started your business? I want to see him and have a talk,” Berg almost screamed, as a man not accustomed to the word “no”.

“To see her,” the manager corrected, and pointed to the lady in the picture. “Baroness von N is the founder of our antique trading house.”

“Now I see,” Berg said.

“This is the only image of her. The artist is unknown.” With that, the manager moved on.

Berg left the shop in deep thought. For the rest of the night, the picture haunted his mind. The next morning he came back to the shop, still trying to persuade the manager, this time in his office.

“Look, if I can’t buy this painting, can it be rented for a certain period of time? For the period it’s leased, the picture will be insured. I guarantee one hundred percent prepayment. You are a businessman, and I offer the most preferential terms. I believe nothing will happen to your family business if this ‘charm’ is out of your respected shop. Give me a week, or a month. Unlike what you think, the painting’s absence will bring you only a good profit. What do you say to my proposal?”

“H’m, I find this deal rather strange. You are the first person to offer to rent a picture from our antique shop. I’d understand it if you were a museum, but you, it seems, are not going to set it to any display, I hope? The manager looked at Berg rather queerly.

“I assure you, I’m not. I need it only to satisfy my own aesthetic needs.” Berg smiled. After a short but agonizing silence, the manager said, “Well, the transaction will be forwarded to our legal department. But” – he pointed out expressly – “the lease term is one week. One hundred percent down payment, insurance at your expense. And, yet, I find your proposal extremely eccentric.”

“Maybe you’re right. But I love art,” a contented Berg replied.

The transaction was executed properly, and a week later the painting was hung in the living room of Berg’s country mansion. For the past five days, the admirer of fine arts spent all of his free time with the painting. He fell in love with the image of the lady, and sometimes he even talked to her. It came to a point where a similar chair and a table with a chessboard were brought to the same living room. All of Berg’s thoughts were devoted to the beautiful lady in the picture.

On the sixth day, Berg returned late to his country house after a hectic day, and sent away all the staff and security guards for the weekend. After dinner, he went to the living room to wish “Good night” to his beloved, as he’d done in the five previous days. He felt a deep melancholy. He did not want to part with her, but kept in mind that according to the contract, the picture should be returned to the owner the following day. The clock struck midnight. He went closer to the picture, and started to examine the very familiar features of the baroness’ beautiful face. All of a sudden, a thud on the windowpane brought him back to reality with a fright. What on earth? Alarmed, he went to the window. Drawing open the blind, Berg saw in the moonlight only dark trunks of trees in the grounds, and a cloudless sky lit with bright stars. Not a soul. Perhaps it was a bird, he assured himself. What a beautiful full moon. There he was standing, admiring the moon and contemplating the night quietness for about five minutes, when suddenly he heard a low, velvet voice from behind his back:

“Would you like a game of chess?”

It was a feminine voice. Inhuman panic and fear gripped Berg. He was too scared to turn around.

“Would you like a game of chess?” the voice insisted.

Berg slowly turned around, and saw the replica chair was occupied by Baroness von N in the same dress from the picture. Smiling, she invited him by pointing to the table with the chessboard. The chess pieces had been placed. Automatically, he glanced at the picture – the chair was empty there. “You have little time. Either you play, or I’m leaving,” the baroness said. Berg was horrified. His heart was beating faster, and his face was sweating. He wiped his face fiercely, and slowly walked over to the couch opposite the chair, sat on the edge of it, and stared at the guest. His trembling hand made the first moves of white pawn from the king one square forward.

Under the terms of the lease agreement, Berg returned the painting to the antique shop on the seventh day. He was also … different