at once."
"Who told you that, sir?"
Enderby's real informant had been the housemaid at
the Three Crowns whose sister was the legal spouse of
Constable Graves, but he replied:
"Had a tip from headquarters. Yes, the burglary idea
was all a put up job."
"Who do they think did it then?" demanded Mrs.
Evans coming forward. Her eyes looked frightened and
eager.
"Now, Rebecca, don't you take on so," said her hus-band.
"Cruel stupid the police are," said Mrs. Evans. "Don't
mind who they take up as long as they get hold of some-one."
She cast a quick glance at Enderby.
"Are you connected with the police, sir?"
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Murder at Hazelmoor
"Me? Oh! no. I am from a newspaper, the Daily Wire. I came down to see Major Burnaby. He has just won our
Free Football Competition for £5,ooo."
"What?" cried Evans. "Damn it all, then these things
are square after all."
"Didn't you think they were?" asked Enderby.
"Well, it's a wicked world, sir." Evans was a little
confused, feeling that his exclamation had been wanting
in tact. "I have heard there's a lot of trickery concerned.
The late Capting used to say that a prize never
went to a good address. That's why he used mine time
and again."
With a certain na'ivet he described the Captain's winning
of three new novels.
Enderby encouraged him to talk. He saw a very good
story being made out of Evans. The faithful servant--old
sea dog touch. He wondered just a little why Mrs.
Evans seemed so nervous, he put it down to the suspicious
ignorance of her class.
"You find the skunk what done it," said Evans. "Newspapers
can do a lot, they say, in hunting down criminals."
"It was a burglar," said Mrs. Evans. "That's what it
was."
"Of course, it was a burglar," said Evans. "Why, there's
no one in Exhampton would want to harm the Capting."
Enderby rose.
"Well," he said. "I must be going. I will run in now
and then and have a little chat if I may. If the Captain
won three new novels in a Daily Wire Competition, the Daily Wire ought to make it a personal matter to hunt
down his murderer."
67
Agatha Christie
"You can't say fairer than that, sir. No, you can't say
fairer than that."
Wishing them a cheery good day, Charles Enderby
took his leave.
"I wonder who really did the beggar in?" he murmured
to himself. "I don't think our friend Evans. Perhaps it
was a burglar! Very disappointing, if so. Doesn't seem
any women in the case, which is a pity. We've got to
have some sensational development soon or the case will
fade into insignificance. Just my luck, if so. First time I
have ever been on the spot in a matter of this kind. I
must make good. Charles, my boy, your chance in life
has come. Make the most of it. Our military friend will,
I see, soon be eating out of my hand if I remember to
be sufficiently respectful and call him 'sir,' often enough.
Wonder if he was in the Indian Mutiny. No, of course
not, not old enough for that. The South African War,
that's it. Ask him about the South African War, that will
tame him."
And pondering these good resolutions in his mind Mr.
Enderby sauntered back to the Three Crowns.
68
9. The Laurels
I T takes about half an hour from Exhampton to Exeter
by train. At five minutes to twelve Inspector Narracott
was ringing the front door bell of The Laurels.
The Laurels was a somewhat dilapidated house, badly
in need of a new coat of paint. The garden round it was
unkempt and weedy and the gate hung askew on its
hinges.
"Not too much money about here," thought Inspector
Narracott to himself. "Evidently hard up."
He was a very fair-minded man, but inquiries seemed
to indicate that there was very little possibility of the
Captain's having been done to death by an enemy. On
the other hand, four people, as far as he could make out,
stood to gain a considerable sum by the old man's death.
The movements of each of these four people had got to
be inquired into. The entry in the hotel register was
suggestive, but after all Pearson was quite a common
name. Inspector Narracott was anxious not to come to
any decision too rapidly and to keep a perfectly open
mind whilst covering the preliminary ground as rapidly
as possible.
A somewhat slatternly looking maid answered the bell.
"Good afternoon," said Inspector Narracott. "I want
to see Mrs. Gardner, please. It is in connection with the
death of her brother, Captain Trevelyan, at Exhampton."
He purposely did not hand his official card to the maid.
Agatha Christie
The mere iact of his being a police officer, as he knew
by experience, would render her awkward and tongue-tied.
"She's heard of her brother's death?" asked the Inspector
casually as the maid drew back to let him into
the hall.
"Yes, got a telegram she did. From the lawyer, Mr.
Kirkwood."
"Just so," said Inspector Narracott.
The maid ushered him into the drawing-room--a room
which, like the outside of the house, was badly in need
of a little money spent upon it, but yet, had with all that
an air of charm which the Inspector felt without being
able to particularize the why and wherefore of it.
"Must have been a shock to your mistress," he observed.
The girl seemed a little vague about that, he noticed.
"She didn't see much of him," was her answer.
"Shut the door and come here," said Inspector Narracott.
He was anxious to try the effect of a surprise attack.
"Did the telegram say that it was murder?" he asked.
"Murder!"
The girl's eyes opened wide, a mixture of horror and
intense enjoyment in them. "Murdered was he?"
"Ah!" said Inspector Narracott, "I thought you hadn't
heard that. Mr. Kirkwood didn't want to break the news
too abruptly to your mistress, but you see, my dear--what
is your name, by the way?"
"Beatrice, sir."
7°
Murder at Hazelmoor
"Well, you see, Beatrice, it will be in the evening
papers tonight."
"Well, I never," said Beatrice. "Murdered. 'orrible,
isn't it? Did they bash his head in or shoot him or what?"
The Inspector satisfied her passion for detail, then
added casually, "I believe there was some idea of your
mistress going over to Exhampton yesterday afternoon.
But I suppose the weather was too bad for her."
"I never heard anything about it, sir," said Beatrice.
"I think you must have made a nistake. The mistress
went out in the afternoon to do some shopping and then
she went to the Pictures."
"What time did she get in?"
"About six o'clock."
/> So that let Mrs. Gardner out.
"I don't know much about the tamily,'' he went on in
a casual tone. "Is Mrs. Gardner a widow?"
"Oh, no, sir, there's master."
"What does he do?"
"He doesn't do anything," said Beatrice staring. "He
can't. He's an invalid."
"An invalid, is he? Oh, I'm sorry. I hadn't heard."
"He can't walk. He lies in bed all day. Got a nurse
always in the house we have. It isn't every girl what stays
on with an 'ospital nurse in the house the whole time.
Always wanting trays carried up and pots of tea made."
"Must be very trying," said the Inspector soothingly.
"Now, will you go and tell your mistress please, that I
am here from Mr. Kirkwood of Exhampton?"
Beatrice withdrew and a few minutes later the door
71
Agatha Christie
opened and a tall, rather commanding woman came into
the room. She had an unusual looking face, broad about
the brows, and black hair with a touch of gray at the
temples, which she wore combed straight back from her
forehead. She looked at the Inspector inquiringly.
"You have come from Mr. Kirkwood at Exhampton?"
"Not exactly, Mrs. Gardner. I put it that way to your
maid. Your brother, Captain Trevelyan, was murdered
yesterday afternoon and I am Divisional Inspector Narracott
in charge of the case."
Whatever else Mrs. Gardner might be she was certainly
a woman of iron nerve. Her eyes narrowed and
she drew in her breath sharply, then motioning the Inspector
to a chair and sitting down herself she said:
"Murdered! How extraordinary! Who in the world would
want to murder Joe?"
"That is what I'm anxious to find out, Mrs. Gardner." "Of course. I hope I shall be able to help you in some
way, but I doubt it. My brother and I have seen very
little of each other in the last ten years. I know nothing
of his friends or of any ties he has formed."
"You'll excuse me, Mrs. Gardner, but had you and
your brother quarreled?"
"No--not quarreled. I think estranged would be a
better word to describe the position between us. I don't
want to go into family details, but my brother rather
resented my marriage. Brothers, I think, seldom approve
of their sisters' choice, but usually, I fancy, they conceal
it better than my brother did. My brother, as perhaps
you know, had a large fortune left him by an aunt. Both
my sister and myself married poor men. When my hus-
7
Murder at Hazelmoor
band was invalided out of the army 'after the war with
shell shock, a little financial assistance would have been
a wonderful relief---would have enabled me to give him
an expensive course of treatment which was otherwise
denied to him. I asked my brother for a loan which he
refused. That, of course, he was perfectly entitled to do.
But since then we have met at very rare intervals, and
hardly corresponded at all."
It was a clear succinct statement.
An intriguing personality, this Mrs. Gardner's, the
Inspector thought. Somehow, he couldn't quite make
her out. She seemed unnaturally calm, unnaturally ready
with her recital of facts. He also noticed that, with all
her surprise she asked for no details of her brother's
death. That struck him as extraordinary.
"I don't know if you want to hear what exactly
occurred--at Exhampton," he began.
She frowned.
"Must I hear it? My brother was killed, painlessly--I
hope."
"Quite painlessly, I should say."
"Then please spare me any revolting details."
"Unnatural," thought the Inspector, "decidedly un-natural."
As though she had read his mind she used the very
word that he had spoken to himself.
"I suppose you think that very unnatural, Inspector,
but--I have heard a good many horrors. My husband
has told me things when he has had one of his bad
turns--" she shivered. "I think you would understand
if you knew my circumstances better."
73
Agatha Christie
"Oh! quite so, quite so, Mrs. Gardner. What I really
came ibr was to get a few family details from you."
"Yes?"
"Do you know how many relatives living your brother
has besides yourself?."
"Of near relations, only the Pearsons. My sister Mary's
children."
"And they are?"
"James, Sylvia and Brian."
"James?"
"He is the eldest. He works in an Insurance Office."
"What age is he?"
"Twenty-eight."
"Is he married?"
"No, but he is engaged--to a very nice girl, I believe.
I've not yet met her."
"And his address?"
"Zl Cromwell Street, S. W. 3."
The Inspector noted it down.
"Yes, Mrs. Gardner?"
"Then there's Sylvia. She's married to Martin Dering
--you may have read his books. He's a moderately suc-cessful
author."
"Thank you, and their address?"
"The Nook, Surrey Road, Wimbledon."
"Yes?"
"And the youngest is Brian--but he is out in Australia.
I am 'afraid I don't know his address, but either his brother
or sister would know."
"Thank you, Mrs. Gardner. Just as a natter of form,
74
Murder at Hazelmoor
do you mind my asking you how you spent yesterday
afternoon?"
She looked surprised.
"Let me see. I did some shopping--yes--then I went
to the Pictures. I came home about six and lay down on
my bed until dinner, as the Pictures had given me rather
a headache."
"Thank you, Mrs. Gardner."
"Is there anything else?"
"No, I don't think I have anything further to ask you.
I will now get into communication with your nephew
and niece. I don't know if Mr. Kirkwood has informed
you of the fact yet, but you and the three young Pearsons
are the joint inheritors of Captain Trevelyan's money."
The color came into her face in a slow, rich blush.
"That will be wonderful," she said quietly. "It has been
so difficult--so terribly difficult--always skimping and
saving and wishing."
She started up as a man's rather querulous voice came
floating down the stairs.
"Jennifer, jennifer, I want you."
"Excuse me," she said.
As she opened the door the call came again, louder
and more imperiously.
"Jennifer, where are you? I want you, Jennifer."
The Inspector had followed her to the door. He stood
in the hall looking after her as she ran up the stairs.
"I am coming, dear," she called.
A hospital nurse who was coming down the stairs stood
aside to let her pass up.
75
Agatha Christie
"Please go to Mr. Gardner, he is getting very excited.
You always manage to calm him."
Inspector Narracott stood deliberately in the nurse's
&
nbsp; way as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
"May I speak to you for a moment?" he said. "My
conversation with Mrs. Gardner was interrupted."
The nurse came with alacrity into the drawing-room.
"The news of the murder has upset my patient," she
explained, adjusting a well-starched cuff. "That foolish
girl, Beatrice, came running up and blurted it all out."
"I am sorry," said the Inspector. "I am afraid that was
my fault."
"Oh, of course, you couldn't be expected to know,"
said the nurse graciously.
"Is Mr. Gardner dangerously ill?" inquired the In-spector.
"It's a sad case," said the nurse. "Of course, in a man-ner
of speaking, there's nothing the matter with him
really. He's lost the use of his limbs entirely through
nervous shock. There's no visible disability."
"He had no extra strain or shock yesterday afternoon?"
inquired the Inspector.
Christie,Agatha - Murder At Hazelmore.doc Page 8
