Agatha Christie – Hickory Dickory Death

“Did Celia Austin have coffee?” “Well, I suppose so. I mean, I didn’t actually notice her having coffee, but she must have had it.” “You did not personally hand her her coffee, for instance?” “How horribly suggestive all this isl When you said that and looked at me in that searching way, d’you know I felt quite certain that I had handed Celia her coffee and had filled it up with strychnine, or whatever it was. Hypnotic suggestion, I suppose, but actually, Mr. Sharpe, I didn’t go near her-and to be frank, I didn’t even notice her drinking coffee, and I can assure you, whether you believe me or not, that I have never had any passion for Celia myself and that the announcement of her engagement to Colin Mcationabb aroused no feelings of murderous revenge in me.” “I’m not really suggesting anything of the kind, Mr.

Chapman,” said Sharpe mildly. “Unless I’m very much mistaken, there’s no particular love angle to this, but somebody wanted Celia Austin out of the way. Why?” “I simply can’t imagine why, Inspector. It’s really most intriguing because Celia was really a most harmless kind of girl, if you know what I mean. Slow on the uptake, a bit of a bore; thoroughly nice; and absolutely, I should say, not the kind of girl to get herself murdered.” “Were you surprised When you found that it was Celia Austin who had been responsible for the various disappearances, thefts, et cetera, in this place?” “My dear man, you could have knocked me over with a feather! Most uncharacteristic, that’s what I thought.” “You didn’t, perhaps, put her up to doing these things?” Nigel’s stare of surprise seemed quite genuine.

“I? Put her up to it? Why should I?” “Well, that would be rather the question, wouldn’t it? Some people have a funny sense of humour.” “Wegg’J, really, I may be dense, but I can’t see anything amusing about all this silly pilfering that’s been going on.” “Not your idea of a joke?” “It never occurred to me it was meant to be funny.

Surely, Inspector, the thefts were purely psychological?” “You definitely consider that Celia Austin was a kleptomaniac?” “But surely there can’t be any other explanation, Inspector?” “Perhaps you don’t know as much about kleptomaniacs as I do, Mr. Chapman.” “Well, I really can’t think of any other explanation.” “You don’t think it’s possible that someone might have put Miss Austin up to all this as a means ofsay-arousing Mr. Mcationibb’s interest in her?” Nieaeael’s eyes glistened with appreciative malice.

“Now that really is a most diverting explanation, Inspector,” he said. “You know, when I think of it, it’s perfectly possible and of course old Colin would swallow it, line, hook and sinker.” Nigel savoured this with much glee for a second or two. Then he shook his head sadly.

. “But Celia wouldn’t have played,” he said.

“She was a serious girl. She’d never have made fun of Colin. She was soppy about him.” “You’ve no theory of your own, Mr. Chapman, about the things that have been going on in this house?

About, for instance, the spilling of ink over Miss Johnston’s papers?” “If you’re thinking I did it, Inspector Sharpe, that’s quite untrue. Of course, it looks like me because of the green ink, but if you ask me, that was just spite.” “What was spite?” “XJ-SING my ink. Somebody deliberately used my ink to make it look like me. There’s a lot of spite about here, Inspector.” The Inspector looked at him sharply.

“Now what exactly do you mean by a lot of spite about?” But Nigel immediately drew back into his shell and became noncommittal.

“I didn’t mean anything really-just that when a lot of people are cooped up together, they get rather petty.” The next person on Inspector Sharpe’s list was Leonard Bateson. Len Bateson was even less at ease than Niel, though it showed in a different way. He was suspicious and truculent.

“All right!” he burst out, after the first routine enquiries were concluded. “I poured out Celia’s coffee and gave it to her. So what?” “You gave her her after-dinner coffee-is that what you’re saying, Mr. Bateson?” “Yes. At least, I filled the cup up from the urn and put it down beside her and you can believe it or not, but there was no morphia in it.” “You saw her drink it?” “No, I didn’t actually see her drink it.

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