Christie,Agatha - Murder At Hazelmore.doc
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I got the wind up and left the place by the first available
train. Oh, I dare say I was a fool to do anything of the
sort. But you know what it is when you are rattled. And
anyone might have been rattled under these circumstances.''
"And that's all you have to say, sir?"
"Yes--yes, of course."
"Then, perhaps you'll have no objection, sir, to coming
round with me and having this statement taken down in
writing, after which you will have it read over to you,
and you will sign it."
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Murder at Hazelmoor
"Is--is that all?"
"I think it possible, Mr. Pearson, that it may be necessary
to detain you until after the inquest."
"Oh! my God," said Jim Pearson. "Can nobody help me?"
At that moment the door opened and a young woman
walked into the room.
She was, as the observant Inspector Narraeott noted
at once, a very exceptional kind of young woman. She
was not strikingly beautiful, but she had a face which
was arresting and unusual, a face that having once seen
you could not forget. There was about her an atmosphere
of common sense, savoirfaire, invincible determination
and a most tantalizing fascination.
"Oh! Jim," she exclaimed, "What's happened?"
"It's all over, Emily," said the young man. "They think
I murdered my uncle."
"Who thinks so?" demanded Emily.
The young man indicated his visitor by a gesture.
"This is Inspector Narracott," he said, and he added
with a dismal attempt at introduction, "Miss Emily Trefusis."
"Oh!" said Emily Trefusis.
She studied Inspector Narracott with keen hazel eyes.
"Jim," she said, "is a frightful idiot. But he doesn't
murder people."
The Inspector said nothing.
"I expect," said Emily, turning to Jim, "that you've
been saying the most frightfully imprudent things. If you
read the papers a little better than you do, Jim, you
would know that you must never talk to policemen unless
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Agatha Christie
you have a strong solicitor sitting beside you making
objections to every word. What's happened? Are you
arresting him, Inspector Narracott?"
Inspector Narracott explained technically and clearly
exactly what he was doing.
"Emily," cried the young man, "you won't believe I
did it? You never will believe it, will you?"
"No, darling," said Emily kindly. "Of course not." And
she added in a gentle meditative tone, "You haven't got
the guts."
"I don't feel as if I had a friend in the world," groaned
Jim.
"Yes, you have," said Emily. "You've got me. Cheer
up, Jim, look at the winking diamonds on the third finger
of my left hand. Here stands the faithful fiancee. Go with
the Inspector and leave everything to me."
Jim Pearson rose, still with a dazed expression on his
face. His overcoat was lying over a chair and he put it
on. Inspector Narracott handed him a hat which was lying
on a bureau near by. They moved towards the door and
the Inspector said politely:
"Good evening, Miss Trefusis."
"Au revoir, Inspector," said Emily sweetly.
And if he had known Miss Emily Trefusis better he
would have known that in these three words lay a chal-lenge.
88
Emily Sets to
elyan was held
T H E inquest on the body of Captain Tr 'vfew of sensation
on Monday morning. From the point of'ijmediately adit
was a tame affair, for it was almost iT[ge numbers of
journed for a week, thus disappointing lar[xhampton had
people. Between Saturday and Monday Elae/l dead man's
sprung into fame. The knowledge that ti with the mur-nephew
had been detained in connection ..lere paragraph
der made the whole affair spring from a n<, ntic headlines.
in the back pages of the newspapers to gigad Exhampton in
On the Monday, reporters had arrived at d reason once
large numbers. Mr. Charles Enderby ha,ior position he
more to congratulate himself on the super; chance of the
had obtained from the purely fortuitooS
football competition prize, to Major Bur-It
was the journalist's intention to stick if photograph-naby
like a leech. And under the pretext Cfc information
ing the latter's cottage, to obtain exclusi*itions with the
of the inhabitants of Sittaford and their reli
dead man. that at lunch
It did not escape Mr. Enderby's noticc/.ied by a very
time a small table near the door was occuJff, hat she was
attractive girl. Mr. Enderby wondered,... in a demure
doing in Exhampton. She was well dresSe') be a relation
and provocative style, and did not appear tjeledt as one of
of the deceased, and still less could be lab
the idle curious.
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Agatha Christie
you have a strong solicitor sitting beside you making
objections to every word. What's happened? Are you
arresting him, Inspector Narracott?"
Inspector Narracott explained technically and clearly
exactly what he was doing.
"Emily," cried the young man, "you won't believe I
did it? You never will believe it, will you?"
"No, darling," said Emily kindly. "Of course not." And
she added in a gentle meditative tone, "You haven't got
the guts."
"I don't feel as if I had a friend in the world," groaned
Jim.
"Yes, you have," said Emily. "You've got me. Cheer
up, Jim, look at the winking diamonds on the third finger
of my left hand. Here stands the faithful fiancee. Go with
the Inspector and leave everything to me."
Jim Pearson rose, still with a dazed expression on his
face. His overcoat was lying over a chair and he put it
on. Inspector Narracott handed him a hat which was lying
on a bureau near by. They moved towards the door and
the Inspector said politely:
"Good evening, Miss Trefusis."
"Au revoir, Inspector," said Emily sweetly.
And if he had known Miss Emily Trefusis better he
would have known that in these three words lay a chal-lenge.
88
Emily Sets to Work
T E inquest on the body of Captain Trevelyan was held
on Monday morning. From the point of view of sensation
it was a tame affair, for it was almost immediately ad-journed
for a week, thus disappointing large numbers of
people. Between Saturday and Monday Exhampton had
sprung into fame. The knowledge that the dead man's
nephew had been detained in connection with the mur-der
made the whole affair spring from a mere paragraph
in the back pages of the newspapers to gigantic headlines.
On the Monday, reporters had arrived at Exhampton in
large numbers. Mr. Charles Enderby had reason once
more to congratulate himself on the superior position he
had obtained from the purely fortuitous chance of the
football competition prize.
It was the journalist's intention to
stick to Major Bur-naby
like a leech. And under the pretext of photograph-ing
the latter's cottage, to obtain exclusive information
of the inhabitants of Sittaford and their relations with the
dead man.
It did not escape Mr. Enderby's notice that at lunch
time a small table near the door was occupied by a very
attractive girl. Mr. Enderby wondered what she was
doing in Exhampton. She was well dressed in a demure
and provocative style, and did not appear to be a relation
of the deceased, and still less could be labeled as one of
the idle curious.
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Agatha Christie
"I wonder how long she's staying?" thought Mr. En-derby.
"Rather a pity I am going up to Sittaford this
afternoon. Just my luck. Well, you can't have it both
ways, I suppose."
But shortly after lunch, Mr. Enderby received an
agreeable surprise. He was standing on the steps of the
Three Crowns observing the fast melting snow, and enjoying
the sluggish rays of wintry sunshine, when he was
aware of a voice, an extremely charming voice, addressing
him.
"I beg your pardon--but could you tell me--if there
is anything to see in Exhampton?"
Charles Enderby rose to the occasion promptly.
"There's a castle, I believe," he said. "Not much to
it--but there it is. Perhaps you would allow me to show
you the way to it."
"That would be frightfully kind of you," said the girl. "If you are sure you are not too busy--"
Charles Enderby disclaimed immediately the notion
of being busy.
They set out together.
"You are Mr. Enderby, aren't you?" said the girl.
"Yes. How did you know?"
"Mrs. Belling pointed you out to me."
"Oh, I see."
"My name is Emily Trefusis. Mr. Enderby--! want
you to help me."
"To help you?" said Enderby. "Why, certainly--but--"
"You see, I am engaged to Jim Pearson."
9°
Murder at Hazelmoor
"Oh!" said Mr. Enderby, journalistic ossibilities rising
before his mind.
"And the police are going to arrest him. I know they
are. Mr. Enderby, I know that Jim didn't do this thing.
I am down here to prove he didn't. But I must have
someone to help me. One can't do anything without a
man. Men know so much, and are able to get information
in so many ways that are simply impossible to
women."
"Well--I--yes, I suppose that is true," said Mr. Eh-derby
complacently.
"I was looking at all these journalists this morning,"
said Emily. "Such a lot of them I thought had such stupid
faces. I picked you out as the one really clever one among
them."
"Oh! I say. I don't think that's true, you know," said
Mr. Enderby still more complacently.
"What I want to propose," said Emily Trefusis, "is
a kind of partnership. There would, I think, be advantages
on both sides. There are certain things I want to
investigate--to find out about. There you in your eharaeter
of journalist can help me. I want--"
Emily paused. What she really wanted was to engage
Mr. Enderby as a kind of private sleuth of her own. To
go where she told him, to ask the questions she wanted
asked, and in general to be a kind of bond slave. But she
was aware of the necessity of couching these proposals
in terms at once flattering and agreeable. The whole
point was that she was to be the boss, but the matter
needed managing tactfully.
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Agatha Christie
"I want," said Emily, "to feel that I can depend upon
you."
She had a lovely voice, liquid and alluring. As she
uttered the last sentence a feeling rose in Mr. Enderby's
bosom that this lovely helpless girl could depend upon
him to the last ditch.
"It must be ghastly," said Mr. Enderby, and taking
her hand he squeezed it with fervor.
"But you know," he went on with a journalistic reaction,
"my time is not entirely my own. I mean, I have
got to go where I am sent, and all that."
"Yes," said Emily. "I have thought of that, and that
you see is where I come in. Surely I am what you call
a 'scoop,' aren't I? You can do an interview with me
every day, you can make me say anything that you think
your readers will like. Jim Pearson's fiancee. Girl who
believes passionately in his innocence. Reminiscences of
his childhood which she supplies. I don't really know
about his childhood you know," she added, "but that
doesn't matter."
"I think," said Mr. Enderby, "that you are marvelous.
You really are marvelous."
"And then," said Emily pursuing her advantage, "I
have access naturally to Jim's relations. I can get you in
there as a friend of mine, where quite possibly you might
have the door shut in your face any other way."
"Don't I know that only too well," said Mr. Enderby
with feeling, recalling various rebuffs of the past.
A glorious prospect opened out before him. He had
been in luck over this affair all round. First the lucky
chance of the football competition, and now this.
Murder at Hazelmoor
"It's a de," he said fervently.
"Good," sid Emily becoming brisk and businesslike.
"Now, whal' the first move?"
"I'm goingup to Sittaford this afternoon."
He expled the fortunate circumstance which had
put him in such an advantageous position with regard to
Major Burn,by. "Because, mind you, he is the kind of
old buffer that hates newspaper men like poison. But
you can't etly push a chap in the face who has just
handed youlS,ooo, can you?"
"It wouldbe awkward," said Emily. "Well, if you are
going to Sittord, I am coming with you."
"Splendid," said Mr. Enderby. "I don't know, though,
if there's an!where to stay up there. As far as I know
there's only ittaford House and a few odd cottages be-longing
to people like Burnaby."
"We shallnd something," said Emily. "I always find
something."
Mr. EndeIby could well believe that. Emily had the
kind of personality that soars triumphantly over all
stacles.
They had rrived by now at the ruined castle, but
paying no attention to it, they sat down on a piece of
wall in the so-called sunshine and Emily proceeded to
develop her ideas.
"I am loolag at this, Mr. Enderby, in an absolutely
unsentimentl and businesslike way. You've got to take
it from me t begin with that Jim didn't do the murder.
I'm not saying that simply because I am in love with
him, or believe in his beautiful character or anything like
that. It's justell--knowledge. You see I have been on
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Agatha Christie
my own pretty well since I was sixteen. I have never
come into contact with many women and I know very
little about them, but I know reall
y a lot about men. And
unless a girl can size up a man pretty accurately, and
know what's she's got to deal with, she will never get
on. I have got on. I work as a mannequin at Lucie's, and
I can tell you, Mr. Enderby, that to arrive there is a
Feat.
"Well, as I was saying, I can size up men pretty ac-curately.
Jim is rather a weak character in many ways.
I am not sure," said Emily, forgetting for a moment her
r61e of admirer of strong men, "that that's not why I like
him. The feeling that I can run him and make something
of him. There are quite a lot ofwell--even criminal
things that I can imagine him doing if pushed to it--but
not murder. He simply couldn't pick up a sandbag and
hit an old man on the back of the neck with it. He would
make a bosh shot and hit him in the wrong place if he
did. He is a--he is a gentle creature, Mr. Enderby. He
doesn't even like killing wasps. He always tries to put
them out of a window without hurting them and usually
gets stung. However, it's no good my going on like this.
You've got to take my word for it and start on the as-sumption
that Jim is innocent."
"Do you think that somebody is deliberately trying to
fasten the crime on him?" asked Charles Enderby in his
best journalistic manner.
"I don't think so. You see nobody knew about Jim
coming down to see his Uncle. Of course, one can't be
certain, but I should put that down as just a coincidence
and bad luck. What we have to find is someone else with