"All right, Charles."
The car went upwards on the Sittaford road.
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Sittaford
E M I L Y was rather fascinated by her first view of Sit-taford.
Turning off the main road about two miles from
Exhampton, they went upwards over a rough moorland
road until they reached a village that was situated right
on the edge of the moor. It consisted of a smithy, and a
combined post office and sweet shop. From there they
followed a lane and came to a row of newly built small
granite bungalows. At the second of these the car stopped
and the driver volunteered the information that this was
Mrs. Curtis's.
Mrs. Curtis was a small, thin, gray haired woman,
energetic and shrewish in disposition. She was all agog
with the news of the murder which had only penetrated
to Sittaford that morning.
"Yes, of course I can take you in, Miss, and your cousin
too, if he can just wait until I shift a few duds. You won't
mind having your meals along of us, I don't suppose?
Well, who would have believed it! Captain Trevelyan
murdered and an inquest and all! Cut off from the world
we've been since Friday morning, and this morning when
the news came you could have knocked me down with
a feather. 'The Captain's dead,' I said to Curtis, 'that
hows you the wickedness there is in the world nowa-days.'
But I'm keeping you talking here, Miss. Come
away in and the gentleman too. I have got the kettle on
and you shall have a cup of tea immediately, for you must
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,gatha Christie
be perished by the lrive up, though of course, it's warmer
today after what it' been. Eight and ten feet the snow
has been hereabout."
Drowned in this sea of talk, Emily and Charles En-derby
were shown their new quarters. Emily had a small
square room, scrupulously clean, looking out and up to
the slope of Sittaforl Beacon. Charles's room was a small
slit facing the front if the house and the lane, containing
a bed and a micros%pic chest of drawers and washstand.
"The great thing is," he observed after the driver of
the car had disposel his suitcase upon the bed, and had
been duly paid an thanked, "that we are here. If we
don't know all there is to be known about everyone living
in Sittaford within the next quarter of an hour, I'll eat
my hat."
Ten minutes later, they were sitting downstairs in the
comfortable kitche being introduced to Curtis, a rather
gruff looking gray haired old man, and being regaled
with strong tea, bread and butter, Devonshire cream
and hard boiled egs. While they ate and drank they
listened. Within half an hour they knew everything there
was to be known about the inhabitants of the small community.
First there was lIiss Percehouse, who lived in No. 4
The Cottages, a spinster of uncertain years and temper
who had come dowh here to die, according to Mrs. Curtis,
six years ago.
"But believe it or not, Miss, the air of Sittaford is that
healthy that she picked up from the day she came. Wonderfully
pure air for lungs it is.
"Miss Percehouse has a nephew who occasionally comes
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Murder at Hazelmoor
down to see her," she went on, "and indeed he's staying
with her at the present time. Seeing to it that the money
doesn't go out of the amily, that's what he's doing. Very
dull for a young gentleman at this time of year. But there,
there's more ways than one of amusing yourself, and his
coming has been a providence for the young lady at
Sittaford House. Poor young thing, the idea of bringing
her to that great barrack of a house in the winter time.
Selfish is what some mothers are. A very pretty young
lady, too. Mr. Ronald Garfield is up there as often as he
can be without neglecting Miss Percehouse."
Charles Enderby and Emily exchanged glances. Charles
remembered that Ronald Garfield had been mentioned
as one of the party present at the table turning.
"The cottage this side of mine, No. 6," continued Mrs.
Curtis, "has only just been took. Gentleman of the name
of Duke. That is if you would call him a gentleman. Of
course, he may be and he may not. There's no saying,
folks aren't so particular nowadays as they used to be.
He's been made free of the place in the heartiest manner.
A bashful sort of gentleman he is--might be a military
gentleman from the look of him, but somehow he hasn't
got the manner. Not like Major Burnaby, that you would
know as a military gentleman the first time you clapped
eyes on him.
"No. 3, that's Mr. Rycroft's, little elderly gentleman.
They do say that he used to go after birds to outlandish
parts for the British Museum. What they call a naturalist
he is. Always out and roaning over the moor when the
weather permits. And he has a very fine library of books.
His cottage is nearly all bookcases.
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Agatha Christie
"ho, z, is an invalid gentleman's, a Captain Wyatt
with ta Indian servant. And poor fellow he does feel the
cold, he does. The servant I mean, not the Captain.
Conig from warm outlandish parts, it's no wonder. The
heat they keev up inside the house would frighten you.
It's like valkig into an oven.
"IN. , is Major Burnaby's cottage. Lives by himself
he does, and I go in to do for him early mornings. He
is a Vry neat gentleman, he is, and very particular. He
and kaptain Trevelyan were as thick as thieves. Friends
of a lifetime they were. And they both have the same
kind if outlandish heads stuck up on the walls. ':
"Afor Mrs. Willett and Miss Willett, that's what no
one etn make out. Plenty of money there. Amos Parker
at Exliampton they deal with, and he tells me their weekly
book comes to well over eight pounds or nine pounds.
You ouldn't believe the eggs that goes into that house!
B.r,°nht their maid servants from Exeter with them, they
did, ut they don't like it and want to leave, and I'm
sure I don't blame them. Mrs. Willet, she sends them
into lxeter twice a week in her car, and what with that
and the living being so good, they agreed to stop on, but
if yoh ask me it's a queer business, burying yourself in
the %untry like this, a smart lady like that. Well, well,
I sUDbose I had better be clearing away these tea things."
Sh drew a deep breath and so did Charles and Emily.
The low of information loosened with so little difficulty
had tlmost overwhelmed them.
Charles ventured to put a question.
"Oas Major Burnaby got back yet?" he asked.
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Murder at Hazdnoor
Mrs. Curtis paused at once, tra)'i n hand. "Yes, indeed,
sir, came tramping in just the sre as ever about half
an hour before you arrived. 'Wlqy, sir,' I cried to him.
'You've never walked all the way frm Vxhamp
ton?' And
he says in his stern way, 'Why n0t If a man has got two
legs he doesn't need four wheels. I do it once a week
anyway as you know, Mrs. Curtis.'Oh, yes, sir,' I says,
'but this is different. What with the shock and the murder
and the inquest it's wonderful you've got the strength to
do it.' But he only grunted like ac walked on. He looks
bad though. It's a miracle he ever of through on Friday
night. Brave I call it at his age. ramping off like that
and three miles of it in a snowst0ra. You may say what
you like, but nowadays the youag gentlemen aren't a
patch on the old ones. That Mr. Ronald Garfield he
would never have done it, and it' my opinion, and it's
the opinion of Mrs. Hibbert at the post office, and it's
the opinion of Mr. Pound, the blacksmith, that Mr. Garfield
ought never to have let him go off alone the way
he did. He should have gone with him. If Major Burnaby
had been lost in a snowdrift, everybody would have blamed
Mr. Garfield. And that's a tact."
She disappeared triumphantly ii, to the scullery amid
a clatter of tea things.
Mr. Curtis thoughtfully removed an aged pipe from
the right side of his mouth to the left side.
"Women," he said, "talk a lot."
He paused and then murmured.
"And half the time they don't khow the truth of what
they are talking about."
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Agatha Christie
Emily and Charles received this announcement in silence.
Seeing that no more was coming, however, Charles murmured approvingly.
"That's very true--yes, very true."
"Ah!" said Mr. Curtis, and relapsed into a pleasant
and contemplative silence.
Charles rose. "I think I'll go round and see old Bur-naby,'
he said, "tell him the camera parade will be tomorrow
morning."
"I'll come with you," said Emily. "I want to know what
he really thinks about Jim and what ideas he has about
the crime in general."
"Have you got any rubber boots or anything? It's awfully
slushy."
"I bought some Wellingtons in Exhampton," said
Emily.
"What a practical girl you are. You think of everything."
"Unfortunate]y," said Emily, "that's not much help to you in finding out who's done a murder. It might help
one to do a murder," she added reflectively.
"Well, don't murder me," said Mr. Enderby.
They went out together. Mrs. Curtis immediately returned.
"They be gone round to the Major's," said Mr. Curtis.
"Ah!" said Mrs. Curtis. "Now, what do you think? Are
they sweethearting, or are they not? A lot of harm comes
of cousins marrying so they say. Deaf and dumbs and
half wits and a lot of other evils. He's sweet on her, that
you can see easily enough. As for her, she's a deep one
like my Great Aunt Sarah's Belinda, she is. Got a way
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Murder at Hazelmoor
with her and with the men. I wonder what she's after
now? Do you know what I think, Curtis?"
Mr. Curtis grunted.
"This young gentleman that the police are holding on
account of the murder, it's my belief that-he's the one
she's set on. And she's come up here to nose about and
see what she can find out. And mark my words," said
Mrs. Curtis, rattling china, "if there's anything to find
out she will find it!"
111
14. The Willetts
A T the same moment that Charles and Emily started
out to visit Major Burnaby, Inspector Narracott was seated
in the drawing-room of Sittaford House, trying to for-mulate
an impression of Mrs. Willett.
He had not been able to interview her sooner as the
roads had been impassable until this morning. He had
hardly known what he had expected to find, but certainly
not what he had found. It was Mrs. Willett who had
taken charge of the situation, not he.
She had come rushing into the room, thoroughly busi-nesslike
and efficient. He saw a tall woman, thin faced
and keen eyed. She was wearing rather an elaborate
knitted silk jumper suit that was just over the border
line of unsuitability for country wear. Her stockings were
of very expensive gossamer silk, her shoes high heeled
patent leather. She wore several valuable rings and rather
a large quantity of very good and expensive imitation
pearls.
"Inspector Narracott?" said Mrs. Willett. "Naturally,
you want to come over the house. What a shocking trag-edy!
I could hardly believe it. We only heard about it
this morning, you know. We were terribly shocked. Sit
down, won't you, Inspector? This is my daughter, Vi-olet."
He had hardly noticed the girl who had followed her
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Murder at Hazelmoor
in, and yet, she was a very pretty girl, tall and fair with
big blue eyes.
Mrs. Willett herself took a seat.
"Is there any way in which I can help you, Inspector?
I knew very little of poor Captain Trevelyan, but if there
is anything you can think of"
The Inspector said slowly:
"Thank you, madam. Of course, one never knows what
may be useful or what may not."
"I quite understand. There may possibly be something
in the house that may throw light upon this sad business,
but I rather doubt it. Captain Trevelyan removed all his
personal belongings. He even feared I should tamper
with his fishing rods, poor, dear man."
She laughed a little.
"You were not acquainted with him?"
"Before I took the house, you mean? Oh! no. I've asked
him here several times since, but he never came. Ter-ribly
shy, poor dear. That was what was the matter with
him. I've known dozens of men like it. They are called
women haters and all sorts of silly things, and really all
the time it's only shyness. If I could have got at him,"
said Mrs. Willett with determination, "I'd soon have got
over all that nonsense. That sort of man only wants bring-ing
out."
Inspector Narracott began to understand Captain
Trevelyan's strongly defensive attitude towards his ten-ants.
"We both asked him," continued Mrs. Willett. "Didn't
we, Violet?"
Agatha Christie
"Oh! yes, mother."
"A real simple sailor at heart," said Mrs. Willett. "Every
woman loves a sailor, Inspector Narracott."
It occurred to Inspector Narracott at this juncture that
the interview so far had been run entirely by Mrs. Willett.
He was convinced that she was an exceedingly clever
woman. She might be as innocent as she appeared. On
the other hand she might not.
"The point I am anxious to get information about is
this," he said and paused.
"Yes, Inspector?"
"Major Burnaby, as you doubtless know, discovered
the body. He was led to do so by an accident that occurred
in this house."
"You mean?"
"I mean, the table turning. I beg your pardon--"
He turned sharply.
A faint sound had come from the girl.
"Poor Violet," said her mother. "She was terribly
upset--indeed we all were! Most unaccountable. I'm not
superstitious, but really it was the most unaccountable
thing."
"It did occur then?"
Mrs. Willett opened her eyes very wide.
"Occur? Of course it occurred. At the time I thought
it was a jokema most unfeeling joke and one in very bad
taste. I suspected young Ronald Garfield--"
"Oh! no, mother. I'm sure he didn't. He absolutely
swore he didn't."
"I'm saying what I thought at the time, Violet. What
could one think it but a joke?"
Murder at Hazelmoor
"It was curious," said the Inspector slowly. "You were
very upset, Mrs. Willett?"
"We all were. Up to then it had been, oh, just light
hearted fooling. You know the sort of thing. Good fun
on a winter's evening. And then suddenly--this! I was
very angry."
"Angry?"
"Well, naturally. I thought someone was doing it
deliberately--for a joke, as I say."
"And now?"
"Now?"
"Yes, what do you think now?"
Mrs. Willett spread her hands out expressively.
"I don't know what to think. It--it's uncanny."
"And you, Miss Willett?"
"I?"
The girl started.
"I--I don't know. I shall never forget it. I dream of it. I shall never dare to do table turning again."
"Mr. Rycroft would say it was genuine, I suppose,"
said her mother. "He believes in all that sort of thing.
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