The Murder Of Roger Ackroyd hp-4

by Agatha Christie

  'H'm,' said the inspector. 'I must see Miss Ackroyd at once.

  For the moment we'll leave this room exactly as it is. I can return here after I've heard what Miss Ackroyd has to tell me. I shall just take the precaution of shutting and bolting the window.' This precaution accomplished, he led the way into the hall and we followed him. He paused a moment, as he glanced up at the little staircase, then spoke over his shoulder to the constable.

  'Jones, you'd better stay here. Don't let anyone go into that room.' Parker interposed deferentially.

  'If you'll excuse me, sir. If you were to lock the door into the main hall, nobody could gain access to this part. That staircase leads only to Mr Ackroyd's bedroom and bathroom. There is no communication with the other part of the house. There once was a door through, but Mr Ackroyd had it blocked up. He liked to feel that his suite was entirely private.' To make things clear and explain the position, I have appended a rough sketch of the right-hand wing of the house.

  The small staircase leads, as Parker explained, to a big bedroom made by two being knocked into one, and an adjoining bathroom and lavatory.

  The inspector took in the position at a glance. We went through into the large hall and he locked the door behind him, slipping the key into his pocket. Then he gave the constable some low-voiced instructions, and the latter prepared to depart.

  'We must get busy on those shoe tracks,' explained the inspector. 'But first of all, I must have a word with Miss Ackroyd. She was the last person to see her uncle alive.

  Does she know yet?' Raymond shook his head.

  'Well, no need to tell her for another five minutes. She can answer my questions better without being upset by knowing the truth about her uncle. Tell her there's been a burglary, and ask her if she would mind dressing and coming down to answer a few questions.' It was Raymond who went upstairs on this errand.

  'Miss Ackroyd will be down in a minute,' he said, when he returned. 'I told her just what you suggested.' In less than five minutes Flora descended the staircase.

  She was wrapped in a pale pink silk kimono. She looked anxious and excited.

  The inspector stepped forward.

  'Good evening. Miss Ackroyd,' he said civilly. 'We're afraid there's been an attempt at robbery, and we want you to help us. What's this room - the billiard room? Come in here and sit down.' Flora sat down composedly on the wide divan which ran the length of the wall, and looked up at the inspector.

  'I don't quite understand. What has been stolen? What do you want me to tell you?' 'It's just this. Miss Ackroyd. Parker here says you came out of your uncle's study at about a quarter to ten. Is that right?' 'Quite right. I had been to say goodnight to him.' 'And the time is correct?' 'Well, it must have been about then. I can't say exactly. It might have been later.' 'Was your uncle alone, or was there anyone with him?' 'He was alone. Dr Sheppard had gone.' 'Did you happen to notice whether the window was open or shut?' Flora shook her head.

  'I can't say. The curtains were drawn.' 'Exactly. And your uncle seemed quite as usual?' 'I think so.' 'Do you mind telling us exactly what passed between you?' Flora paused a minute, as though to collect her recollections.

  'I went in and said, "Goodnight, Uncle, I'm going to bed now. I'm tired tonight." He gave a sort of grunt, and - I went over and kissed him, and he said something about my looking nice in the frock I had on, and then he told me to run away as he was busy. So I went.' 'Did he ask specially not to be disturbed?' 'Oh! yes, I forgot. He said: "Tell Parker I don't want anything more tonight, and that he's not to disturb me." I met Parker just outside the door and gave him Uncle's message.' 'Just so,' said the inspector.

  'Won't you tell me what it is that has been stolen?' 'We're not quite - certain,' said the inspector hesitatingly.

  A wide look of alarm came into the girl's eyes. She started up.

  'What is it? You're hiding something from me?' Moving in his usual unobtrusive manner. Hector Blunt came between her and the inspector. She half stretched out her hand, and he took it in both of his, patting it as though she were a very small child, and she turned to him as though something in his stolid, rocklike demeanour promised comfort and safety.

  'It's bad news, Flora,' he said quietly. 'Bad news for all of us. Your Uncle Roger ' 'Yes?' 'It will be a shock to you. Bound to be. Poor Roger's dead.' Flora drew away from him, her eyes dilating with horror.

  'When?' she whispered. 'When?' 'Very soon after you left him, I'm afraid,' said Blunt gravely.

  Flora raised her hand to her throat, gave a little cry, and I hurried to catch her as she fell. She had fainted, and Blunt and I carried her upstairs and laid her on her bed. Then I got him to wake Mrs Ackroyd and tell her the news. Flora soon revived, and I brought her mother to her, telling her what to do for the girl. Then I hurried downstairs again.

  Chapter 5. The Tunisian Dagger

  I met the inspector just coming from the door which led into the kitchen quarters.

  'How's the young lady, doctor?' 'Coming round nicely. Her mother's with her.' 'That's good. I've been questioning the servants. They all declare that no one has been to the back door tonight. Your description of that stranger was rather vague. Can't you give us something more definite to go upon?' 'I'm afraid not,' I said regretfully. 'It was a dark night, you. see, and the fellow had his coat collar well pulled up and his hat squashed down over his eyes.' 'H'm,' said the inspector. 'Looked as though he wanted to conceal his face. Sure it was no one you know?' I replied in the negative, but not as decidedly as I might have done. I remembered my impression that the stranger's voice was not unfamiliar to me. I explained this rather haltingly to the inspector.

  'It was a rough, uneducated voice, you say?' I agreed, but it occurred to me that the roughness had been of an almost exaggerated quality. If, as the inspector thought, the man had wished to hide his face, he might equally well have tried to disguise his voice.

  'Do you mind coming into the study with me again, doctor? There are one or two things I want to ask you.' I acquiesced. Inspector Davis unlocked the door of the lobby, we passed through, and he locked the door again behind him.

  'We don't want to be disturbed,' he said grimly. 'And we don't want any eavesdropping either. What's all this about blackmail?' 'Blackmail!' I exclaimed, very much startled.

  'Is it an effort of Parker's imagination? Or is there something in it?' 'If Parker heard anything about blackmail,' I said slowly, 'he must have been listening outside this door with his ear glued against the keyhole.' Davis nodded.

  'Nothing more likely. You see, I've been instituting a few inquiries as to what Parker has been doing with himself this evening. To tell the truth, I didn't like his manner. The man knows something. When I began to question him, he got the wind up, and plumped out some garbled story of blackmail.' I took an instant decision.

  'I'm rather glad you've brought the matter up,' I said. 'I've been trying to decide whether to make a clean breast of things or not. I'd already practically decided to tell you everything, but I was going to wait for a favourable opportunity. You might as well have it now.' And then and there I narrated the whole events of the evening as I have set them down here. The inspector listened keenly, occasionally interjecting a question.

  'Most extraordinary story I ever heard,' he said, when I had finished. 'And you say that letter has completely disappeared?

  It looks bad - it looks very bad indeed. It gives us what we've been looking for - a motive for the murder.' I nodded.

  'I realize that.' 'You say that Mr Ackroyd hinted at a suspicion he had that some member of his household was involved? Household's rather an elastic term.' 'You don't think that Parker himself might be the man we're after?' I suggested.

  'It looks very like it. He was obviously listening at the door when you came out. Then Miss Ackroyd came across him later bent on entering the study. Say he tried again when she was safely out of the way. He stabbed Ackroyd, locked the door on the inside, opened the window, and got out that way, and went round to a
side door which he had previously left open. How's that?' 'I want to see if Mr Raymond can tell us anything about this dagger,' he explained.

  Locking the outer door behind us again, we made our way to the billiard room, where we found Geoffrey Raymond. The inspector held up his exhibit.

  'Ever seen this before, Mr Raymond?' 'Why - I believe - I'm almost sure that is a curio given to Mr Ackroyd by Major Blunt. It comes from Morocco - no, Tunis. So the crime was committed with that? What an extraordinary thing. It seems almost impossible, and yet there could hardly be two daggers the same. May I fetch Major Blunt?' Without waiting for an answer, he hurried off.

  'Nice young fellow that,' said the inspector. 'Something honest and ingenuous about him.' I agreed. In the two years that Geoffrey Raymond has been secretary to Ackroyd, I have never seen him ruffled or out of temper. And he has been, I know, a most efficient secretary.

  In a minute or two Raymond returned, accompanied by Blunt.

  'I was right,' said Raymond excitedly. 'It is the Tunisian dagger.' 'Major Blunt hasn't looked at it yet,' objected the inspector.

  'Saw it the moment I came into the study,' said the quiet man.

  'You recognized it, then?' Blunt nodded.

  'You said nothing about it,' said the inspector suspiciously.

  'Wrong moment,' said Blunt. 'Lot of harm done by blurting out things at the wrong time.' He returned the inspector's stare placidly enough.

  The latter grunted at last and turned away. He brought the dagger over to Blunt.

  'You're quite sure about it, sir. You identify it positively?'

  'Absolutely. No doubt whatever.' 'Where was this - er - curio usually kept? Can you tell me that, sir?' It was the secretary who answered.

  'In the silver table in the drawing-room.' 'What?' I exclaimed.

  The others looked at me.

  'Yes, doctor?' said the inspector encouragingly.

  'It's nothing,' said the inspector again, still encouragingly.

  'It's so trivial,' I explained apologetically. 'Only that when I arrived last night for dinner I heard the lid of the silver table being shut down in the drawing-room.' I saw profound scepticism and a trace of suspicion on the inspector's countenance.

  'How did you know it was the silver table lid?' I was forced to explain in detail - a long, tedious explanation which I would infinitely rather not have had to make.

  The inspector heard me to the end.

  'Was the dagger in its place when you were looking over the contents?' he asked.

  'I don't know,' I said. 'I can't say I remember noticing it - but, of course, it may have been there all the time.' 'We'd better get hold of the housekeeper,' remarked the inspector, and pulled the bell.

  A few minutes later Miss Russell, summoned by Parker, entered the room.

  'I don't think I went near the silver table,' she said, when the inspector had posed his question. 'I was looking to see that all the flowers were fresh. Oh! yes, I remember now.

  The silver table was open - which it had no business to be, and I shut the lid down as I passed.' She looked at him aggressively.

  'I see,' said the inspector. 'Can you tell me if this dagger was in its place then?' Miss Russell looked at the weapon composedly.

  'I can't say I'm sure,' she replied. 'I didn't stop to look. I knew the family would be down any minute, and I wanted to get away.' 'Thank you,' said the inspector.

  There was just a trace of hesitation in his manner, as though he would have liked to question her further, but Miss Russell clearly accepted the words as a dismissal, and glided from the room.

  'Rather a Tartar, I should fancy, eh?' said the inspector, looking after her. 'Let me see. This silver table is in front of one of the windows, I think you said, doctor?' Raymond answered for me.

  'Yes, the left-hand window.' 'And the window was open?' 'They were both ajar.' 'Well, I don't think we need go into the question much further. Somebody - I'll just say somebody - could get that dagger any time he liked, and exactly when he got it doesn't matter in the least. I'll be coming up in the morning with the chief constable, Mr Raymond. Until then, I'll keep the key of that door. I want Colonel Melrose to see everything exactly as it is. I happen to know that he's dining out the other side of the county, and, I believe, staying the night…' We watched the inspector take up the jar.

  'I shall have to pack this carefully,' he observed. 'It's going to be an important piece of evidence in more ways than one.' A few minutes later as I came out of the billiard room with Raymond, the latter gave a low chuckle of amusement.

  I felt the pressure of his hand on my arm, and followed the direction of his eyes. Inspector Davis seemed to be inviting Parker's opinion of a small pocket diary.

  'A little obvious,' murmured my companion. 'So Parker is the suspect, is he? Shall we oblige Inspector Davis with a set of our fingerprints also?' He took two cards from the card tray, wiped them with his silk handkerchief, then handed one to me and took the other himself. Then, with a grin, he handed them to the police inspector.

  'Souvenirs,' he said. 'No. 1. Dr Sheppard, No. 2, my humble self. One from Major Blunt will be forthcoming in the morning.' Youth is very buoyant. Even the brutal murder of his friend and employer could not dim Geoffrey Raymond's spirits for long. Perhaps that is as it should be. I do not know. I have lost the quality of resilience long since myself.

  It was very late when I got back, and I hoped that Caroline would have gone to bed. I might have known better.

  She had hot cocoa waiting for me, and whilst I drank it, she extracted the whole history of the evening from me. I said nothing of the blackmailing business, but contented myself with giving her the facts of the murder.

  'The police suspect Parker,' I said, as I rose to my feet and prepared to ascend to bed. 'There seems a fairly clear case against him.' 'Parker!' said my sister. 'Fiddlesticks! That inspector must be a perfect fool. Parker indeed! Don't tell me.' With which obscure pronouncement we went up to bed.

  Chapter 6. I Learn My Neighbour's Profession

  On the following morning I hurried unforgivably over my round. My excuse can be that I had no very serious cases to attend. On my return Caroline came into the hall to greet me.

  'Flora Ackroyd is here,' she announced in an excited whisper.

  'What?' I concealed my surprise as best as I could.

  'She's very anxious to see you. She's been here half an hour.' Caroline led the way into our small sitting-room, and I followed.

  Flora was sitting on the sofa by the window. She was in black and she sat nervously twisting her hands together. I was shocked by the sight of her face. All the colour had faded away from it. But when she spoke her manner was as composed and resolute as possible.

  'Dr Sheppard, I have come to ask you to help me?' 'Of course he'll help you, my dear,' said Caroline.

  I don't think Flora really wished Caroline to be present at the interview. She would, I am sure, have infinitely preferred to speak to me privately. But she also wanted to waste no time, so she made the best of it.

  'I want you to come to The Larches with me.' 'The Larches?' I queried, surprised.

  'To see that funny little man?' exclaimed Caroline.

  'Yes. You know who he is, don't you?' 'We fancied,' I said, 'that he might be a retired hairdresser.' Flora's blue eyes opened very wide.

  'Why, he's Hercule Poirot! You know who I mean - the private detective. They say he's done the most wonderful things - just like detectives do in books. A year ago he retired and came to live down here. Uncle knew who he was, but he promised not to tell anyone, because M. Poirot wanted to live quietly without being bothered by people.' 'So that's who he is,' I said slowly.

  'You've heard of him, of course?' 'I'm rather an old fogey, as Caroline tells me,' I said,' but I have just heard of him.' 'Extraordinary!' commented Caroline.

  I don't know what she was referring to - possibly her own failure to discover the truth.

  'You want to go and see him?' I asked slowly. 'Now
why?' 'To get him to investigate this murder, of course,' said Caroline sharply. 'Don't be so stupid, James.' I was not really being stupid. Caroline does not always understand what I am driving at.

  'You haven't got confidence in Inspector Davis?' I went on.

  'Of course she hasn't,' said Caroline. 'I haven't either.' Anyone would have thought it was Caroline's uncle who had been murdered.

  'And how do you know he would take up the case?' I asked. 'Remember he has retired from active work.' 'That's just it,' said Flora simply. 'I've got to persuade him.' 'You are sure you are doing wisely?' I asked gravely.

  'Of course she is,' said Caroline. 'I'll go with her myself if she likes.' 'I'd rather the doctor came with me, if you don't mind, Miss Sheppard,' said Flora.

  She knows the value of being direct on certain occasions.

  Any hints would certainly have been wasted on Caroline.

  'You see,' she explained, following directness with tact, 'Dr Sheppard being the doctor, and having found the body, he would be able to give all the details to M. Poirot.' 'Yes,' said Caroline grudgingly, 'I see that.' I took a turn or two up and down the room.

  'Flora,' I said gravely, 'be guided by me. I advise you not to drag this detective into the case.' Flora sprang to her feet. The colour rushed into her cheeks.

  'I know why you say that,' she cried. 'But it's exactly for that reason I'm so anxious to go. You're afraid! But I'm not.

  I know Ralph better than you do.' 'Ralph!' said Caroline. 'What has Ralph got to do with it?' Neither of us heeded her.

  'Ralph may be weak,' continued Flora. 'He may have done foolish things in the past - wicked things even - but he wouldn't murder anyone.' 'No, no,' I exclaimed. 'I never thought it of him.' 'Then why did you go to the Three Boars last night?' demanded Flora, 'on your way home - after Uncle's body was found?' I was momentarily silenced. I had hoped that that visit of mine would remain unnoticed.