The Murder of Roger Ackroyd Agatha Christie (e book free reading TXT) đ
- Author: Agatha Christie
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âSo there you are, M. Poirot,â he said. âWell, this isnât going to be much of a case. Iâm sorry, too. A nice enough young fellow gone wrong.â
Poirotâs face fell, and he spoke very mildly. âIâm afraid I shall not be able to be of much aid to you, then?â
âNext time, perhaps,â said the inspector soothingly. âThough we donât have murders every day in this quiet little corner of the world.â
Poirotâs gaze took on an admiring quality. âYou have been of a marvellous promptness,â he observed. âHow exactly did you go to work, if I may ask?â
âCertainly,â said the inspector. âTo begin withâ âmethod. Thatâs what I always sayâ âmethod!â
âAh!â cried the other. âThat, too, is my watchword. Method, order, and the little grey cells.â
âThe cells?â said the inspector, staring.
âThe little grey cells of the brain,â explained the Belgian.
âOh, of course; well, we all use them, I suppose.â
âIn a greater or lesser degree,â murmured Poirot. âAnd there are, too, differences in quality. Then there is the psychology of a crime. One must study that.â
âAh!â said the inspector, âyouâve been bitten with all this psychoanalysis stuff? Now, Iâm a plain manâ ââ
âMrs. Raglan would not agree, I am sure, to that,â said Poirot, making him a little bow.
Inspector Raglan, a little taken aback, bowed. âYou donât understand,â he said, grinning broadly. âLord, what a lot of difference language makes. Iâm telling you how I set to work. First of all, method. Mr. Ackroyd was last seen alive at a quarter to ten by his niece, Miss Flora Ackroyd. Thatâs fact number one, isnât it?â
âIf you say so.â
âWell, it is. At half-past ten, the doctor here says that Mr. Ackroyd had been dead at least half an hour. You stick to that, doctor?â
âCertainly,â I said. âHalf an hour or longer.â
âVery good. That gives us exactly a quarter of an hour in which the crime must have been committed. I make a list of everyone in the house, and work through it, setting down opposite their names where they were and what they were doing between the hour of 9:45 and 10 p.m.â
He handed a sheet of paper to Poirot. I read it over his shoulder. It ran as follows, written in a neat script:
Major Bluntâ âIn billiard room with Mr. Raymond. (Latter confirms.)
Mr. Raymondâ âBilliard room. (See above.)
Mrs. Ackroydâ â9:45 watching billiard match. Went up to bed 9:55. (Raymond and Blunt watched her up staircase.)
Miss Ackroydâ âWent straight from her uncleâs room upstairs. (Confirmed by Parker, also housemaid, Elsie Dale.)
Servants:â â
Parkerâ âWent straight to butlerâs pantry. (Confirmed by housekeeper, Miss Russell, who came down to speak to him about something at 9:47, and remained at least ten minutes.)
Miss Russellâ âAs above. Spoke to housemaid, Elsie Dale, upstairs at 9:45.
Ursula Bourne (parlour maid)â âIn her own room until 9:55. Then in Servantsâ Hall.
Mrs. Cooper (cook)â âIn Servantsâ Hall.
Gladys Jones (second housemaid)â âIn Servantsâ Hall.
Elsie Daleâ âUpstairs in bedroom. Seen there by Miss Russell and Miss Flora Ackroyd.
Mary Thripp (kitchen maid)â âServantsâ Hall.
âThe cook has been here seven years, the parlour maid eighteen months, and Parker just over a year. The others are new. Except for something fishy about Parker, they all seem quite all right.â
âA very complete list,â said Poirot, handing it back to him. âI am quite sure that Parker did not do the murder,â he added gravely.
âSo is my sister,â I struck in. âAnd sheâs usually right.â Nobody paid any attention to my interpolation.
âThat disposes pretty effectually of the household,â continued the inspector. âNow we come to a very grave point. The woman at the lodgeâ âMary Blackâ âwas pulling the curtains last night when she saw Ralph Paton turn in at the gate and go up towards the house.â
âShe is sure of that?â I asked sharply.
âQuite sure. She knows him well by sight. He went past very quickly and turned off by the path to the right, which is a shortcut to the terrace.â
âAnd what time was that?â asked Poirot, who had sat with an immovable face.
âExactly twenty-five minutes past nine,â said the inspector gravely.
There was a silence. Then the inspector spoke again. âItâs all clear enough. It fits in without a flaw. At twenty-five minutes past nine, Captain Paton is seen passing the lodge; at nine-thirty or thereabouts, Mr. Geoffrey Raymond hears someone in here asking for money and Mr. Ackroyd refusing. What happens next? Captain Paton leaves the same wayâ âthrough the window. He walks along the terrace, angry and baffled. He comes to the open drawing room window. Say itâs now a quarter to ten. Miss Flora Ackroyd is saying goodnight to her uncle. Major Blunt, Mr. Raymond, and Mrs. Ackroyd are in the billiard room. The drawing room is empty. He steals in, takes the dagger from the silver table, and returns to the study window. He slips off his shoes, climbs in, andâ âwell, I donât need to go into details. Then he slips out again and goes off. Hadnât the nerve to go back to the inn. He makes for the station, rings up from thereâ ââ
âWhy?â said Poirot softly.
I jumped at the interruption. The little man was leaning forward. His eyes shone with a queer green light.
For a moment Inspector Raglan was taken aback by the question.
âItâs difficult to say exactly why he did that,â he said at last. âBut murderers do funny things. Youâd know that if you were in the police force. The cleverest of them make stupid mistakes sometimes. But come along and Iâll show you those footprints.â
We followed him round the corner of the terrace to the study window. At a word from Raglan a police constable produced the shoes which had been obtained from the local inn.
The inspector laid them over the marks.
âTheyâre the same,â he said confidently. âThat is to say, theyâre not the same pair that actually made these prints. He went away in those. This is a pair just like them, but olderâ âsee how the studs are worn down.â
âSurely a great many people wear shoes with rubber studs in them?â asked Poirot.
âThatâs so, of course,â said the inspector.
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