"After that," said Emily. "I've finished. I'll have done
all I can for Jim."
Agatha Christie
"Then suppose we say--what next?" said Miss Perce-house.
"You mean?"
"What next? Or if you want it put clearer: Which of
them?"
"Oh!" said Emily.
"Exactly. That's what I want to know. Which of them
is to be the unfortunate man?"
Emily laughed. Bending over she kissed the old lady.
"Don't pretend to be an idiot," she said. "You know
perfectly well which it is."
Miss Percehouse chuckled.
Emily ran lightly out of the house and down to the
gate just as Charles came racing up the lane.
He caught her by both hands.
"Emily darling!"
"Charles! Isn't everything marvelous?"
"I shall kiss you," said Mr. Enderby and did.
"I'm a made man, Emily," he said. "Now, look here,
darling, what about it?"
"What about what?"
"Well--I mean--well, of course, it wouldn't have been
playing the game with poor old Pearson in prison and
all the rest of it. But he's cleared now and--well, he has
got to take his medicine just like anybody else."
"What are you talking about?" said Emily.
"You know well enough I am crazy about you," said
Mr. Enderby, "and you like me. Pearson was just a
mistake. What I mean is--well--you and I, we are made
for each other. All this time, we have known it, both of
Murder at Hazelmoor
us, haven't we? Do you like a Registry Office or a Church,
or what?"
"If you are referring to marriage," said Emily, "there's
nothing doing."
"What--but I say--"
"No," said Emily.
"But--Emily--"
"If you will have it," said Emily. "I love Jim. Passion-ately!"
Charles stared at her in speechless bewilderment.
"You can't!"
"I can! And I do! And I always have! And I always
shall!"
"You--you made me think--"
"I said," said Emily demurely, "that it was wonderful
to have someone one could rely on."
"Yes, but I thought--"
"I can't help what you thought."
"You are an unscrupulous devil, Emily."
"I know, Charles darling. I know. I'm everything you
like to call me. But never mind. Think how great you
are going to be. You've got your scoop! Exclusive news
for the Daily Wire. You're a made man. What's a woman
anyway? Less than the dust. No really strong man needs
a woman. She only hampers him by clinging to him like
the ivy. Every great man is one who is independent of
women. A career--there's nothing so fine, so absolutely
satisfying to a man, as a great career. You are a strong
man, Charles, one who can stand alone--"
"Will you stop talking, Emily? It's like a talk to Young
73
Agatha Christie
Men on the Wireless! You've broken my heart. You
don't know how lovely you looked as you came into that
room with Narracott. Just like something triumphant and
avenging off an arch."
A footstep crunched on the lane, and Mr. Duke ap-peared.
"Oh! there you are, Mr. Duke," said Emily. "Charles,
I want to tell you. This is Ex-Chief Inspector Duke of
Scotland Yard."
"What?" cried Charles recognizing the famous name.
"Not the Inspector Duke?"
"Yes," said Emily. "When he retired, he came here
to live, and being nice and modest he didn't want his
renown to get about. I see now why Inspector Narracott
twinkled so when I wanted him to tell me what kind of
crimes Mr. Duke had committed."
Mr. Duke laughed.
Charles wavered. There was a short tussle between
the lover and the journalist. The journalist won.
"I'm delighted to meet you, Inspector," he said. "Now,
I wonder if we could persuade you to do us a short article,
say eight hundred words, on the Trevelyan Case."
Emily stepped quickly up the lane and into Mrs. Cur-tis's
cottage. She ran up to her bedroom and pulled out
her suitcase. Mrs. Curtis had followed her up.
"You're not going, Miss?"
"I am. I've got a lot to do--London, and my young
man." '.
Mrs. Curtis drew nearer.
"Just tell me, Miss, which of 'em is it?"
Emily was throwing clothes haphazard into the suitcase.
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Murder at Hazelmoor
"The one in prison, of course. There's never been any
other."
"Ah! You don't think, Miss, that maybe you're making
a mistake. You're sure the other young gentleman is
worth as much as this one?"
"Oh! no," said Emily. "He isn't. This one will get on."
She glanced out of the window where Charles was still
holding Ex-Chief Inspector Duke in earnest parley. "He's
the kind of young man who's simply born to get on--but
I don't know what would happen to the other one if
I weren't there to look after him. Look where he would
be now if it weren't for me!"
"And you can't say more than that, Miss," said Mrs.
Curtis.
She retreated downstairs to where her lawful spouse
was sitting and staring into vacancy.
"The living image of my Great Aunt Sarah's Belinda
she is," said Mrs. Curtis. "Threw herself away she did
on that miserable George Plunket down at the Three
Cows. Mortaged and all it was. And in two years she
had the mortgage paid offand the place a going concern."
"Ah!" said Mr. Curtis and shifted his pipe slightly.
"He was a handsome fellow, George Plunket," said
Mrs. Curtis reminiscently.
"Ah!" said Mr. Curtis.
"But after he married Belinda he never so much as
looked at another woman."
"Ah!" said Mr. Curtis.
"She never gave him the chance," said Mrs. Curtis.
"Ah!" said Mr. Curtis.
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