Pearson?"
"James Pearson? James Pearson, who's he? Do you
mean one of Trevelyan's nephews?"
"I presume it would be a nephew. He had one called
James, hadn't he?"
"Not the least idea. Trevelyan had nephews--I know
that. But what their names were, I haven't the vaguest
idea."
"The young man in question was at the Three Crowns
last night. You probably recognized him there."
"I didn't recognize anybody," growled the Major.
"Shouldn't anyway--never saw any of Trevelyan's neph-ews
in my life."
"But you knew that Captain Trevelyan was expecting
a nephew to call upon him yesterday afternoon?"
"I did not," roared the Major.
Several people in the street turned round to stare at
him.
"Damn it, won't you take plain truth! I knew nothing
about any appointment. Trevelyan's nephews may have
been in Timbuctoo for all I knew about them."
Inspector Narracott was a little taken aback. The Ma-jor's
vehement denial bore the mark of truth too plainly
for him to be deceived.
"Then why this twenty-five past five business?"
"Oh! well--I suppose I had better tell you," the Major
coughed in an embarrassed fashion. "But mind you--the
whole thing is damned foolishness! Tommy rot, sir.
How any thinking man can believe such nonsense!"
Inspector Narracott looked more and more surprised.
58
Murder' at Hazelmoor
Major Burnaby was looking more uncomfortable and
ashamed of himself every minute.
"You know what it is, Inspector. You have to join in
these things to please a lady. Of course, I never thought
there was anything in it."
"In what, Major Burnaby?"
"Table turning." "Table turning?"
Whatever Narracott had expected he had not expected
this. The Major proceeded to explain himself. Haltingly,
and with many disclaimers to his own belief in the thing,
he described the events of the previous afternoon and
the message that had purported to come through for
himself.
"You mean, Major Burnaby, that the table spelt out
the name of Trevelyan and informed you that he was
dead--murdered?"
Major Burnaby wiped his forehead.
"Yes, that's what happened. I didn't believe in it--naturally,
I didn't believe in it." He looked ashamed.
"Well--it was Friday and I thought after all I would
make sure and go along and see if everything was all
right."
The Inspector reflected on the difficulties of that six
mile walk, with the piled up snowdrifts and the prospect
of a heavy snow fall, and he realized that deny it as he
would Major Burnaby must have been deeply impressed
by the spirit message. Narraeott turned it over in his
mind. A queer thing to happen--a very queer thing to
happen. The sort of thing you couldn't explain satistaetorily. There. might be something in this spirit business
59
Agatha Christie
after all. It was the first well authenticated case he had
come across.
A very queer business altogether but, as far as he could
see, though it explained Major Burnaby's attitude, it had
no practical bearing on the case as far as he himself Was
concerned. He had to deal with the physical world and
not the psychic.
It was his job to track down the murderer.
And to do that he required no guidance from the spirit
world.
60
8. Mr. Charles Enderby
G L A N C I N G at his watch, the Inspector realized he
could just catch the train for Exeter if he hurried off. He
was anxious to interview the late Captain Trevelyan's
sister as soon as possible and obtain from her the ad-dresses
of the other members of the family. So, with a
hurried word of farewell to Major Burnaby, he raced off
to the station. The Major retraced his steps to the Three
Crowns. He had hardly put a foot across the doorstep
when he was accosted by a bright young man with a very
shiny head and a round, boyish face.
"Major Burnaby?" said the young man.
"Yes."
"Of No. x Sittaford Cottages?"
"Yes," said Major Burnaby.
"I represent the Daily Wire," said the young man,
"and I--"
He got no further. In true military fashion of the old
school, the Major exploded.
"Not another word," he roared. "I know you and your
kind. No decency. No reticence. Clustering round a mur-der
like vultures round a carcass, but I can tell you,
young man, you will get no information from me. Not a
word. No story for your damned paper. If you want to
know anything, go and ask the police, and have the de.
cency to leave the friends of the dead man alone."
61
Agatha Christie
The young man seemed not a whit taken aback. He
smiled more encouragingly than ever.
"I say, sir, you know you have got hold of the wrong
end of the stick. I know nothing about this murder busi-ness."
This was not, strictly speaking, the truth. No one in
Exhampton could pretend ignorance of the event that
had shaken the quiet moorland town to its core.
"I am empowered on behalf of the Daily Wire," went
on the young man, "to hand you this check for 5, pounds oo
and congratulate you on sending in the only correct so-lution
of our football competition."
Major Burnaby was completely taken aback.
"I have no doubt," continued the young man, "that
you have already received our letter yesterday morning
informing you of the good news."
"Letter?" said Major Burnaby. "Do you realize, young
man, that Sittaford is about ten feet deep in snow? What
chance do you think we have had in the last few days of
a regular delivery of letters?"
"But doubtless you saw your name announced as win-ner
in the Daily Wire, this morning?"
"No," said Major Burnaby. "I haven't glanced at the
paper this morning."
"Ah! of course not," said the young man. "This sad
business. The murdered man was a friend of yours, I
understand."
"My best friend," said the Major.
"Hard lines," said the young man tactfully averting his
eyes. Then he drew from his pocket a small folded piece
Murder
at ,:l ze l moo r
of mauve paper and handedil'.,/llt: to Major lUrnaby with ti th
a bow.
"With the compliments 0fei/!li5e Daily Wive,', he said. .I.
Major Burnaby took it andvlthe 9tlbid the only
under the circumstances,
thing possible
[,le
"Have a drink, Mr.--er!'
"Enderby, Charles Endert,',m?n:'! my name is. I got here
last night," he explained. "l'iqp.e inquiries about ..
e
getting g
to Sittaford. We make it apo:t0a0.t to hand Ch%ks to win- --
ners
personally. Always pulihati*flgdzh a little i
nteiew' Interests
our readers. Well, e,:e 9?yone told e it was out
of the questionthe snoafflllls falling and it simply y
couldn't be done, and the':h'e the greatest good luck k
I find you are actuly here, sgat tng at the ree Cros." '"
He smiled. "No dicultyab::tideobt identification. Everybody
seems to know eveb% 1 else in this Part of the e
world."
"What will you have?" said6etlal/e Major.
"Beer for me," said Ende5. ..
The Major ordered two b .s.
"The whole place seems 0{he head with this murder,'' ""
remarked Enderby. "Rathersten:(ysterious bsiaess y all [[11
accounts."
The Major grunted. He irs'0an something0fa q un-
dary. His sentiments towarja,urnalists reained n-changed,
but a man who h'hdlst handed You a cc-k
for gS,OOO is in a privilege?:'i010[.sition. You eannot ry
well tell him to go to the de',
"No enemies, had he?" asthe 9fll the young
"No," said the Major.
Agatha Christie
The young man seemed not a whit taken aback. He
smiled more encouragingly than ever.
"I say, sir, you know you have got hold of the wrong
end of the stick. I know nothing about this murder busi-ness."
This was not, strictly speaking, the truth. No one in
Exhampton could pretend ignorance of the event that
had shaken the quiet moorland town to its core.
"I am empowered on behalf of the Daily Wire," went
on the young man, "to hand you this check for 5, pounds oo
and congratulate you on sending in the only correct so-lution
of our football competition."
Major Burnaby was completely taken aback.
"I have no doubt," continued the young man, "that
you have already received our letter yesterday morning
informing you of the good news."
"Letter?" said Major Burnaby. "Do you realize, young
man, that Sittaford is about ten feet deep in snow? What
chance do you think we have had in the last few days of
a regular delivery of letters?"
"But doubtless you saw your name announced as win-ner
in the Daily Wire, this morning?"
"No," said Major Burnaby. "I haven't glanced at the
paper this morning."
"Ah! of course not," said the young man. "This sad
business. The murdered man was a friend of yours, I
understand."
"My best friend," said the Major.
"Hard lines," said the young man tactfully averting his
eyes. Then he drew from his pocket a small folded piece
Murder at Hazelmoor
of mauve paper and handed it to Major Burnaby with
a bow.
"With the compliments of the Daily Wire," he said.
Major Burnaby took it and said the only thing possible
under the circumstances.
"Have a drink, Mr.--er--?"
"Enderby, Charles Enderby my name is. I got here
last night," he explained. "Made inquiries about getting
to Sittaford. We make it a point to hand checks to win-ners
personally. Always publish a little interview. In-terests
our readers. Well, everyone told me it was out
of the question--the snow was falling and it simply
couldn't be done, and then with the greatest good luck
I find you are actually here, staying at the Three Crowns."
He smiled. "No difficulty about identification. Every-body
seems to know everybody else in this part of the
world."
"What will you have?" said the Major.
"Beer for me," said Enderby.
The Major ordered two beers.
"The whole place seems offits head with this murder,"
remarked Enderby. "Rather a mysterious business by all
accounts."
The Major grunted. He was in something of a quan-dary.
His sentiments towards journalists remained un-changed,
but a man who has just handed you a check
for 5, pounds oo is in a privileged position. You cannot very
well tell him to go to the devil.
"No enemies, had he?" asked the young man.
"No," said the Major.
63
Agatha Christie
"But I hear the police don't think it is robbery," went
on Enderby.
"How do you know that?" asked the Major.
Mr. Enderby, however, did not reveal the source of
his information.
"I hear it was you who actually discovered the body,
sir," said the young man.
"Yes. '
"It must have been an awful shock."
The conversation proceeded. Major Burnaby was still
determined to give no information, but he was no match
for the adroitness of Mr. Enderby. The latter made state-ments
with which the Major was forced to agree or dis-agree
thereby providing the information the young man
wanted. So pleasant was his manner, however, that the
process was really not painful at all and the Major found
himself taking quite a liking to the ingenuous young man.
Presently, Mr. Enderby rose and observed that he
must go along to the post office.
"If you will just give me a receipt for that check, sir."
The Major went across to the writing table, wrote a
receipt and handed it to him.
"Splendid," said the young man and slipped it into his
pocket.
"I suppose," said Major Burnaby, "that you are off
back to London today?"
"Oh! no," said the young man. "I want to take a few
photographs, you know, of your cottage at Sittaford, and
of you feeding the pigs, or hoeing up dandelions, or doing
anything characteristic that you fancy. You have no idea
how our readers appreciate that sort of thing. Then I
64
Murder at Hazelmoor
would like to have a few words from you on 'What I
intend to cio with the £5,ooo.' Something snappy. You
have no idea how disappointed our readers would be if
they didn't get that sort of thing."
"Yes, but look here--it's impossible to get to Sittaford
in this veather. The fall of snow was exceptionally heavy.
No vehicle has been able to take the road for three days
anyway, and it may be another three before the thaw
sets in properly."
"I kn0w," said the young man, "it is awkward. Well,
well, oe will just have to resign oneself to kicking up
one's heels in Exhampton. They do you pretty well at
the Three Crowns. So long, sir, see you later."
Ie ene'ged into the main street of Exhampton and
made his way to the post office and wired his paper that
by the greatest of good luck he would be able to supply
them with tasty and exclusive information on the Ex-harpton
Murder Case.
IIe reflected on his next course of action and decided
on interviewing the late Captain Trevelyan's servant,
Evons, whose name Major Burnaby had incautiously let
slip during their conversation.
A few inquiries brought him to 85 Fore Street. The
servant of the murdered man was a person of importance
today, lveryone was willing and anxious to point out
where he lived.
lndeby beat a smart rat-tat o
n the door. It was opened
by man so typically an ex-sailor that Enderby had no
doubt of his identity.
"lZvaS, isn't it?" said Mr. Enderby cheerfully. "I have
just come along from Major Burnaby."
65
Agatha Christie
"Oh!--" Evans hesitated a moment. "Will you come
in, sir."
Enderby accepted the invitation. A buxom young
woman with dark hair and red cheeks hovered in the
background. Enderby judged her as the newly-wed Mrs.
Evans.
"Bad thing this about your late master," said Enderby.
"It's shocking, sir, that's what it is."
"Who do you think did it?" demanded Enderby with
an ingenuous air of seeking information.
"One of these low down tramps, I suppose," said
Evans.
"Oh! no, my dear man. That theory is quite exploded."
"Eh?"
"That's all a put up job. The police saw through that
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