Contents ( 79)
- Contents
- Foreword
- Chapter 1
- The Letter
- Chapter 2
- Not from Captain Hastings’ Personal Narrative
- Chapter 3
- Andover
- Chapter 4
- Mrs Ascher
- Chapter 5
- Mary Drower
- Chapter 6
- The Scene of the Crime
- Chapter 7
- Mr Partridge and Mr Riddell
- Chapter 8
- The Second Letter
- Chapter 9
- The Bexhill-on-Sea Murder
- Chapter 10
- The Barnards
- Chapter 11
- Megan Barnard
- Chapter 12
- Donald Fraser
- Chapter 13
- A Conference
- Chapter 14
- The Third Letter
- Chapter 15
- Sir Carmichael Clarke
- Chapter 16
- Not from Captain Hastings’ Personal Narrative
- Chapter 17
- Marking Time
- Chapter 18
- Poirot Makes a Speech
- Chapter 19
- By Way of Sweden
- Chapter 20
- Lady Clarke
- Chapter 21
- Description of a Murderer
- Chapter 22
- Not from Captain Hastings’ Personal Narrative
- Chapter 23
- September 11th. Doncaster
- Chapter 24
- Not from Captain Hastings’ Personal Narrative
- Chapter 25
- Not from Captain Hastings’ Personal Narrative
- Chapter 26
- Not from Captain Hastings’ Personal Narrative
- Chapter 27
- The Doncaster Murder
- Chapter 28
- Not from Captain Hastings’ Personal Narrative
- Chapter 29
- At Scotland Yard
- Chapter 30
- Not from Captain Hastings’ Personal Narrative
- Chapter 31
- Hercule Poirot Asks Questions
- Chapter 32
- And Catch a Fox
- Chapter 33
- Alexander Bonaparte Cust
- Chapter 34
- Poirot Explains
- Chapter 35
- Finale
- E-Book Extras
- The Poirots
- Charles Osborne on The ABC Murders
- About Agatha Christie
- The Agatha Christie Collection
- www.agathachristie.com
‘Yes, Colonel Anderson. Up to now, the murderer has not made a mistake. He is bound to make one soon.’
‘If that’s all you’ve got to go on,’ began the Chief Constable with a snort, but he was interrupted.
‘Mr Ball of the Black Swan is here with a young woman, sir. He reckons he’s got summat to say might help you.’
‘Bring them along. Bring them along. We can do with anything helpful.’
Mr Ball of the Black Swan was a large, slow-thinking, heavily moving man. He exhaled a strong odour of beer. With him was a plump young woman with round eyes clearly in a state of high excitement.
‘Hope I’m not intruding or wasting valuable time,’ said Mr Ball in a slow, thick voice. ‘But this wench, Mary here, reckons she’s got something to tell as you ought to know.’
Mary giggled in a half-hearted way.
‘Well, my girl, what is it?’ said Anderson. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Mary, sir, Mary Stroud.’
‘Well, Mary, out with it.’
Mary turned her round eyes on her master.
‘It’s her business to take up hot water to the gents’ bedrooms,’ said Mr Ball, coming to the rescue. ‘About half a dozen gentlemen we’d got staying. Some for the races and some just commercials.’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Anderson impatiently.
‘Get on, lass,’ said Mr Ball. ‘Tell your tale. Nowt to be afraid of.’
Mary gasped, groaned and plunged in a breathless voice into her narrative.
‘I knocked on door and there wasn’t no answer, otherwise I wouldn’t have gone in least ways not unless the gentleman had said “Come in,” and as he didn’t say nothing I went in and he was there washing his hands.’
She paused and breathed deeply.
‘Go on, my girl,’ said Anderson.
Mary looked sideways at her master and as though receiving inspiration from his slow nod, plunged on again.
‘“It’s your hot water, sir,” I said, “and I did knock,” but “Oh,” he says, “I’ve washed in cold,” he said, and so, naturally, I looks in basin, and oh! God help me, sir, it were all red!’
‘Red?’ said Anderson sharply.
Ball struck in.
‘The lass told me that he had his coat off and that he was holding the sleeve of it, and it was all wet—that’s right, eh, lass?’
‘Yes, sir, that’s right, sir.’
She plunged on:
‘And his face, sir, it looked queer, mortal queer it looked. Gave me quite a turn.’
‘When was this?’ asked Anderson sharply.
‘About a quarter after five, so near as I can reckon.’
‘Over three hours ago,’ snapped Anderson. ‘Why didn’t you come at once?’
‘Didn’t hear about it at once,’ said Ball. ‘Not till news came along as there’d been another murder done. And then the lass she screams out as it might have been blood in the basin, and I asks her what she means, and she tells me. Well, it doesn’t sound right to me and I went upstairs myself. Nobody in the room. I asks a few questions and one of the lads in courtyard says he saw a fellow sneaking out that way and by his description it was the right one. So I says to the missus as Mary here had best go to police. She doesn’t like the idea, Mary doesn’t, and I says I’ll come along with her.’