Agatha Christie - Murder Of Roger Ackroyd
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'Yes,' agreed Poirot. 'A mere bagatelle - but if he had not been in the billiard room - who knows? After all, many crimes have been committed for the sake of less than five hundred pounds. It all depends on what sum is sufficient to break a man.
A question of relativity, is it not so? Have you reflected, my friend, that many people in that house stood to benefit by Mr Ackroyd's death? Mrs Ackroyd, Miss Flora, young Mr Raymond, the housekeeper. Miss Russell. Only one, in fact, does not. Major Blunt.' His tone in uttering that name was so peculiar that I looked up, puzzled.
'I don't understand you,' I said.
'Two of the people I accused have given me the truth.' 'You think Major Blunt has something to conceal also?' 'As for that,' remarked Poirot nonchalantly, 'there is a saying, is there not, that Englishmen conceal only one thing their love? And Major Blunt, I should say, is not good at concealments.' 'Sometimes,' I said, 'I wonder if we haven't rather jumped to conclusions on one point.' 'What is that?' 'We've assumed that the blackmailer of Mrs Ferrars is necessarily the murderer of Mr Ackroyd. Mightn't we be mistaken?' Poirot nodded energetically.
'Very good. Very good indeed. I wondered if that idea would come to you. Of course it is possible. But we must remember one point. The letter disappeared. Still, that, as you say, may not necessarily mean that the murderer took it. When you first found the body, Parker may have abstracted the letter unnoticed by you.' 'Parker?' 'Yes, Parker. I always come back to Parker - not as the murderer - no, he did not commit the murder; but who is more suitable than he as the mysterious scoundrel who terrorized Mrs Ferrars? He may have got his information about Mr Ferrars's death from one of the King's Paddock servants. At any rate, he is more likely to have come upon it than a casual guest such as Blunt, for instance.' 'Parker might have taken the letter,' I admitted. 'It wasn't till later that I noticed it was gone.' 'How much later? After Blunt and Raymond were in the room, or before?' 'I can't remember,' I said slowly. 'I think it was before no, afterwards. Yes, I'm almost sure it was afterwards.' 'That widens the field to three,' said Poirot thoughtfully.
'But Parker is the most likely. It is in my mind to try a little experiment with Parker. How say you, my friend, will you accompany me to Fernly?' I acquiesced, and we set out at once. Poirot asked to see Miss Ackroyd, and presently Flora came to us.
'Mademoiselle Flora,' said Poirot, 'I have to confide in you a little secret. I am not yet satisfied of the innocence of Parker. I propose to make a little experiment with your assistance. I want to reconstruct some of his actions on that night. But we must think of something to tell him - ah! I have it. I wish to satisfy myself as to whether voices in the little lobby could have been heard outside on the terrace.
Now, ring for Parker, if you will be so good.' I did so, and presently the butler appeared, suave as ever.
'You rang, sir?' 'Yes, my good Parker. I have in mind a little experiment.
I have placed Major Blunt on the terrace outside the study window. I want to see if anyone there could have heard the voices of Miss Ackroyd and yourself in the lobby that night.
I want to enact that little scene over again. Perhaps you would fetch the tray or whatever it was you were carrying?' Parker vanished, and we repaired to the lobby outside the study door. Presently we heard a chink in the outer hall, and Parker appeared in the doorway carrying a tray with a siphon, a decanter of whisky, and two glasses on it.
'One moment,' cried Poirot, raising his hand and seemingly very excited. 'We must have everything in order.
Just as it occurred. It is a little method of mine.' 'A foreign custom, sir,' said Parker. 'Reconstruction of the crime they call it, do they not?' He was quite imperturbable as he stood there politely waiting on Poirot's orders.
'Ah! he knows something, the good Parker,' cried Poirot.
'He has read of these things. Now, I beg you, let us have everything of the most exact. You came from the outer hall - so. Mademoiselle was - where?' 'Here,' said Flora, taking up her stand just outside the study door.
'Quite right, sir,' said Parker.
'I had just closed the door,' continued Flora.
'Yes, miss,' agreed Parker. 'Your hand was still on the handle as it is now.' 'Then allez,' said Poirot. 'Play me the little comedy.' Flora stood with her hand on the door handle, and Parker came stepping through the door from the hall, bearing the tray.
He stopped just inside the door. Flora spoke.
'Oh! Parker. Mr Ackroyd doesn't want to be disturbed again tonight.' 'Is that right?' she added in an undertone.
'To the best of my recollection, Miss Flora,' said Parker, 'but I fancy you used the word evening instead of night.' Then, raising his voice in a somewhat theatrical fashion: 'Very good, miss. Shall I lock up as usual?' 'Yes, please.' Parker retired through the door. Flora followed him, and started to ascend the main staircase.
'Is that enough?' she asked over her shoulder.
'Admirable,' declared the little man, rubbing his hands.
'By the way, Parker, are you sure there were two glasses on the tray that evening? Who was the second one for?' 'I always bring two glasses, sir,' said Parker. 'Is there anything further?' 'Nothing. I thank you.' Parker withdrew, dignified to the last.
Poirot stood in the middle of the hall frowning. Flora came down and joined us.
'Has your experiment been successful?' she asked. 'I don't quite understand, you know -' Poirot smiled admiringly at her.
'It is not necessary that you should,' he said. 'But tell me, were there indeed two glasses on Parker's tray that night?' Flora wrinkled her brows a minute.
'I really can't remember,' she said. 'I think there were. Is - is that the object of your experiment?' Poirot took her hand and patted it.
'Put it this way,' he said. 'I am always interested to see if people will speak the truth.' 'And did Parker speak the truth?' 'I rather think he did,' said Poirot thoughtfully.
A few minutes later saw us retracing our steps to the village.
'What was the point of that question about the glasses?' I asked curiously.
Poirot shrugged his shoulders.
'One must say something,' he remarked. 'That particular question did as well as any other.' I stared at him.
'At any rate, my friend,' he said seriously, 'I know now something I wanted to know. Let us leave it at that.'
CHAPTER 15 An Evening at Mah Jong
That night we had a little Mah Jong party. This kind of simple entertainment is very popular in King's Abbot. The guests arrive in goloshes and waterproofs after dinner. They partake of coffee and later of cake, sandwiches and tea.
On this particular night our guests were Miss Gannett and Colonel Carter, who lives near the church. A good deal of gossip is handed round at these evenings, sometimes seriously interfering with the game in progress. We used to play bridge - chatty bridge of the worst description. We find Mah Jong much more peaceful. The irritated demand as to why on earth your partner did not lead a certain card is entirely done away with, and though we still express criticisms frankly, there is not the same acrimonious spirit.
'Very cold evening, eh, Sheppard?' said Colonel Carter, standing with his back to the fire. Caroline had taken Miss Gannett to her own room, and was there assisting her to disentangle herself from her many wraps. 'Reminds me of the Afghan passes.' 'Indeed?' I said politely.
'Very mysterious business this about poor Ackroyd,' continued the colonel, accepting a cup of coffee. 'A deuce of a lot behind it - that's what I say. Between you and me, Sheppard, I've heard the word blackmail mentioned!' The colonel gave me the look which might be tabulated 'one man of the world to another.' 'A woman in it, no doubt,' he said. 'Depend upon it, a woman in it.' Caroline and Miss Gannett joined us at this minute. Miss Gannett drank coffee whilst Caroline got out the Mah Jong box and poured out the tiles upon the table.
'Washing the tiles,' said the colonel facetiously. 'That's right - washing the tiles, as we used to say in the Shanghai Club.' It is the private opinion of both Caroline
and myself that Colonel Carter has never been in the Shanghai Club in his life. More, that he has never been farther east than India, where he juggled with tins of bully beef and plum and apple jam during the Great War. But the colonel is determinedly military, and in King's Abbot we permit people to indulge their little idiosyncrasies freely.
'Shall we begin?' said Caroline.
We sat round the table. For some five minutes there was complete silence, owing to the fact that there is tremendous secret competition amongst us as to who can build their wall quickest.
'Go on, James,' said Caroline at last. 'You're East Wind.' I discarded a tile. A round or two proceeded, broken by the monotonous remarks of 'Three Bamboos,' 'Two Circles,' 'Pung,' and frequently from Miss Gannett 'Unpung,' owing to that lady's habit of too hastily claiming tiles to which she had no right.
'I saw Flora Ackroyd this morning,' said Miss Gannett.
'Pung - no - Unpung. I made a mistake.' 'Four Circles,' said Caroline. 'Where did you see her?' 'She didn't see me,' said Miss Gannett, with that tremendous significance only to be met with in small villages.
'Ah!' said Caroline interestedly. 'Chow.' 'I believe,' said Miss Gannett, temporarily diverted, 'that it's the right thing nowadays to say "Chee" not "Chow."' 'Nonsense,' said Caroline. 'I have always said "Chow."' 'In the Shanghai Club,' said Colonel Carter, 'they say "Chow;" Miss Gannett retired, crushed.
'What were you saying about Flora Ackroyd?' asked Caroline, after a moment or two devoted to the game. 'Was she with anyone?' 'Very much so,' said Miss Gannett.
The eyes of the two ladies met, and seemed to exchange ^formation.
'Really,' said Caroline interestedly. 'Is that it? Well, it doesn't surprise me in the least.' 'We're waiting for you to discard. Miss Caroline,' said the colonel. He sometimes affects the pose of the bluff male, intent on the game and indifferent to gossip. But nobody is deceived.
'If you ask me,' said Miss Gannett. ('Was that a Bamboo you discarded, dear? Oh! no, I see now - it was a Circle.) As I was saying, if you ask me. Flora's been exceedingly lucky.
Exceedingly lucky she's been.' 'How's that. Miss Gannett?' asked the colonel. 'I'll Pung that Green Dragon. How do you make out that Miss Flora's been lucky? Very charming girl and all that, I know.' 'I mayn't know very much about crime,' said Miss Gannett, with the air of one who knows everything there is to know, 'but I can tell you one thing. The first question that's always asked is "Who last saw the deceased alive?" And the person who did is regarded with suspicion. Now, Flora Ackroyd last saw her uncle alive. It might have looked very nasty for her - very nasty indeed. It's my opinion - and I give it for what it's worth, that Ralph Paton is staying away on her account, to draw suspicion away from her.' 'Come, now,' I protested mildly, 'you surely can't suggest that a young girl like Flora Ackroyd is capable of stabbing her uncle in cold blood?' 'Well, I don't know,' said Miss Gannett. 'I've just been reading a book from the library about the underworld of Paris, and it says that some of the worst women criminals are young girls with the faces of angels.' 'That's in France,' said Caroline instantly.
'Just so,' said the colonel. 'Now, I'll tell you a very curious thing - a story that was going round the Bazaars in India...' The colonel's story was one of interminable length, and of curiously little interest. A thing that happened in India many years ago cannot compare for a moment with an event that took place in King's Abbot the day before yesterday.
It was Caroline who brought the colonel's story to a close by fortunately going Mah Jong. After the slight unoleasantness always caused by my corrections of Caroline's somewhat faulty arithmetic, we started a new hand.
'East Wind passes,' said Caroline. 'I've got an idea of my own about Ralph Paton. Three Characters. But I'm keeping it to myself for the present.' 'Are you, dear?' said Miss Gannett. 'Chow - I mean Pung.' 'Yes,' said Caroline firmly.
'Was it all right about the boots?' asked Miss Gannett.
'Their being black, I mean?' 'Quite all right,' said Caroline.
'What was the point, do you think?' asked Miss Gannett.
Caroline pursed up her lips, and shook her head with an air of knowing all about it.
'Pung,' said Miss Gannett. 'No - Unpung. I suppose that now the doctor's in with M. Poirot he knows all the secrets?' 'Far from it,' I said.
'James is so modest,' said Caroline. 'Ah! A concealed Kong.' The colonel gave vent to a whistle. For the moment gossip was forgotten.
'Your own wind, too,' he-said. 'And you've got two Pungs of Dragons. We must be careful. Miss Caroline's out for a big hand.' We played for some minutes with no irrelevant conversation.
'This M. Poirot now,' said Colonel Carter, 'is he really such a great detective?' 'The greatest the world has ever known,' said Caroline solemnly. 'He has to come here incognito to avoid publicity.' 'Chow,' said Miss Gannett. 'Quite wonderful for our little village, I'm sure. By the way, Clara - my maid, you know is great friends with Elsie, the housemaid at Fernly, and what do you think Elsie told her? That there's been a lot of money stolen, and it's her opinion - Elsie's - I mean, that the parlourmaid had something to do with it. She's leaving at the month, and she's crying a good deal at night. If you ask me, the girl is very likely in league with a gang. She's always been a queer girl - she's not friends with any of the girls round here. She goes off by herself on her days out very unnatural, I call it, and most suspicious. I asked her once to come to our Friendly Girls' Evenings, but she refused, and then I asked her a few questions about her home and her family - all that sort of thing, and I'm bound to say I considered her manner most impertinent. Outwardly very respectful - but she shut me up in the most barefaced way.' Miss Gannett stopped for breath, and the colonel, who was totally uninterested in the servant question, remarked that in the Shanghai Club brisk play was the invariable rule.
We had a round of brisk play.
'That Miss Russell,' said Caroline. 'She came here pretending to consult James on Friday morning. It's my opinion she wanted to see where the poisons were kept. Five Characters.' 'Chow,' said Miss Gannett. 'What an extraordinary idea!
I wonder if you can be right.' 'Talking of poisons,' said the colonel. 'Eh - what?
Haven't I discarded? Oh! Eight Bamboos.' 'Mah Jong!' said Miss Gannett.
Caroline was very much annoyed.
'One Red Dragon,' she said regretfully, 'and I should have had a hand of three doubles.' 'I've had two Red Dragons all the time,' 1 mentioned.
'So exactly like you, James,' said Caroline reproachfully.
'You've no conception of the spirit of the game.' I myself thought I had played rather cleverly. I should have had to pay Caroline an enormous amount if she had gone Mah Jong. Miss Gannett's Mah Jong was of the poorest variety possible, as Caroline did not fail to point out to her.
East Wind passed, and we started a new hand in silence.
'What I was going to tell you just now was this,' said Caroline.
'Yes?' said Miss Gannett encouragingly.
'My idea about Ralph Paton, I mean.' 'Yes, dear,' said Miss Gannett, still more encouragingly. 'Chow!' 'It's a sign of weakness to Chow so early,' said Caroline severely. 'You should go for a big hand.' 'I know,' said Miss Gannett. 'You were saying - about Ralph Paton, you know?' 'Yes. Well, I've a pretty shrewd idea where he is.' We all stopped to stare at her.
'This is very interesting. Miss Caroline,' said Colonel Carter. 'All your own idea, eh?' 'Well, not exactly. I'll tell you about it. You know that big map of the county we have in the hall?' We all said Yes.
'As M. Poirot was going out the other day, he stopped and looked at it, and he made some remark - I can't remember exactly what it was. Something about Cranchester being the only big town anywhere near us which is true, of course. But after he had gone - it came to me suddenly.' 'What came to you?' 'His meaning. Of course Ralph is in Cranchester.' It was at that moment that I knocked down the rack that held my pieces. My sister immediately reproved me for clumsiness, but half-heartedly. She was intent on her theory.
'And you think M. Poirot has the same idea,' said Miss Gannett thoughtfully. 'It's a curious coincidence, but I was out for a walk this afternoon on the Cranchester road, and he passed me in a car coming from that direction.' We all looked at each other.
'Why, dear me,' said Miss Gannett suddenly, 'I'm Mah Jong all the time, and I never noticed it.' Caroline's attention was distracted from her own inventive exercises. She pointed out to Miss Gannett that a hand consisting of mixed suits and too many Chows was hardly worth going Mah Jong on. Miss Gannett listened imperturbably and collected her counters.