The Murder of Roger Ackroyd Agatha Christie (e book free reading TXT) đ
- Author: Agatha Christie
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Caroline merely continued to look omniscient, which so annoyed me that I went on:
âPerhaps you will tell me, Caroline, if I have a medical degree or if I have not?â
âYou have the medical degree, I dare say, Jamesâ âat least, I mean I know you have. But youâve no imagination whatever.â
âHaving endowed you with a treble portion, there was none left over for me,â I said drily.
I was amused to see Carolineâs manoeuvres that afternoon when Poirot duly arrived. My sister, without asking a direct question, skirted the subject of the mysterious guest in every way imaginable. By the twinkle in Poirotâs eyes, I saw that he realized her object. He remained blandly impervious, and blocked her bowling so successfully that she herself was at a loss how to proceed.
Having, I suspect, quietly enjoyed the little game, he rose to his feet and suggested a walk.
âIt is that I need to reduce the figure a little,â he explained. âYou will come with me, doctor? And perhaps later, Miss Caroline will give us some tea.â
âDelighted,â said Caroline. âWonât yourâ âerâ âguest come in also?â
âYou are too kind,â said Poirot. âBut no, my friend reposes himself. Soon you must make his acquaintance.â
âQuite an old friend of yours, so somebody told me,â said Caroline, making one last valiant effort.
âDid they?â murmured Poirot. âWell, we must start.â
Our tramp took us in the direction of Fernly. I had guessed beforehand that it might do so. I was beginning to understand Poirotâs methods. Every little irrelevancy had a bearing upon the whole.
âI have a commission for you, my friend,â he said at last. âTonight, at my house. I desire to have a little conference. You will attend, will you not?â
âCertainly,â I said.
âGood. I need also those in the houseâ âthat is to say: Mrs. Ackroyd, Mademoiselle Flora, Major Blunt, M. Raymond. I want you to be my ambassador. This little reunion is fixed for nine oâclock. You will ask themâ âyes?â
âWith pleasure; but why not ask them yourself?â
âBecause they will then put the questions: Why? What for? They will demand what my idea is. And, as you know, my friend, I much dislike to have to explain my little ideas until the time comes.â
I smiled a little.
âMy friend Hastings, he of whom I told you, used to say of me that I was the human oyster. But he was unjust. Of facts, I keep nothing to myself. But to everyone his own interpretation of them.â
âWhen do you want me to do this?â
âNow, if you will. We are close to the house.â
âArenât you coming in?â
âNo, me, I will promenade myself in the grounds. I will rejoin you by the lodge gates in a quarter of an hourâs time.â
I nodded, and set off on my task. The only member of the family at home proved to be Mrs. Ackroyd, who was sipping an early cup of tea. She received me very graciously.
âSo grateful to you, doctor,â she murmured, âfor clearing up that little matter with M. Poirot. But life is one trouble after another. You have heard about Flora, of course?â
âWhat exactly?â I asked cautiously.
âThis new engagement. Flora and Hector Blunt. Of course not such a good match as Ralph would have been. But after all, happiness comes first. What dear Flora needs is an older manâ âsomeone steady and reliable, and then Hector is really a very distinguished man in his way. You saw the news of Ralphâs arrest in the paper this morning?â
âYes,â I said, âI did.â
âHorrible.â Mrs. Ackroyd closed her eyes and shuddered. âGeoffrey Raymond was in a terrible way. Rang up Liverpool. But they wouldnât tell him anything at the police station there. In fact, they said they hadnât arrested Ralph at all. Mr. Raymond insists that itâs all a mistakeâ âaâ âwhat do they call it?â âcanard of the newspaperâs. Iâve forbidden it to be mentioned before the servants. Such a terrible disgrace. Fancy if Flora had actually been married to him.â
Mrs. Ackroyd shut her eyes in anguish. I began to wonder how soon I should be able to deliver Poirotâs invitation. Before I had time to speak, Mrs. Ackroyd was off again.
âYou were here yesterday, werenât you, with that dreadful Inspector Raglan? Brute of a manâ âhe terrified Flora into saying she took that money from poor Rogerâs room. And the matter was so simple, really. The dear child wanted to borrow a few pounds, didnât like to disturb her uncle since heâd given strict orders against it, but knowing where he kept his notes she went there and took what she needed.â
âIs that Floraâs account of the matter?â I asked.
âMy dear doctor, you know what girls are nowadays. So easily acted on by suggestion. You, of course, know all about hypnosis and that sort of thing. The inspector shouts at her, says the word âstealâ over and over again, until the poor child gets an inhibitionâ âor is it a complex?â âI always mix up those two wordsâ âand actually thinks herself that she has stolen the money. I saw at once how it was. But I canât be too thankful for the whole misunderstanding in one wayâ âit seems to have brought those two togetherâ âHector and Flora, I mean. And I assure you that I have been very much worried about Flora in the past: why, at one time I actually thought there was going to be some kind of understanding between her and young Raymond. Just think of it!â Mrs. Ackroydâs voice rose in shrill horror. âA private secretaryâ âwith practically no means of his own.â
âIt would have been a severe blow to you,â I said. âNow, Mrs. Ackroyd, Iâve got a message for you from M. Hercule Poirot.â
âFor me?â
Mrs. Ackroyd looked quite alarmed. I hastened to reassure her, and I explained what Poirot wanted.
âCertainly,â said Mrs. Ackroyd rather doubtfully. âI suppose we must come if M. Poirot says so. But what is it all about? I like to know beforehand.â
I assured the lady truthfully that I myself did not know any more than she did.
âVery well,â said Mrs. Ackroyd at last, rather grudgingly, âI will tell the others, and we
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