Agatha Christie – The Murder Of Roger Ackroyd

( 183 ‘Mademoiselle Flora went into the garden, I think,’ he murmured.

‘I’ve been every kind of a fool,’ said Blunt abruptly.

‘Rum conversation we’ve been having. Like one of those Danish plays. But you’re a sound fellow, M. Poirot. Thank you.’ He took Poirot’s hand and gave it a grip which caused the other to wince in anguish. Then he strode to the side-door and passed out into the garden.

‘Not every kind of a fool,’ murmured Poirot, tenderly nursing the injured member. ‘Only one kind – the fool in love.’

CHAPTER 20 Miss Russell

Inspector Raglan had received a bad jolt. He was not deceived by Blunt’s valiant lie any more than we had been.

Our way back to the village was punctuated by his complaints.

‘This alters everything, this does. I don’t know whether you’ve realized it. Monsieur Poirot?’ ‘I think so, yes, I think so,’ said Poirot. ‘You see, me, I have been familiar with the idea for some time.’ Inspector Raglan, who had only had the idea presented to him a short half-hour ago, looked at Poirot unhappily, and went on with his discoveries.

‘Those alibis now. Worthless! Absolutely worthless. Got to start again. Find out what everyone was doing from nine-thirty onwards. Nine-thirty – that’s the time we’ve got to hang on to. You were quite right about the man Kent we don’t release him yet awhile. Let me see now – nineforty-five at the Dog and Whistle. He might have got there in a quarter of an hour if he ran. It’s just possible that it was his voice Mr Raymond heard talking to Mr Ackroyd asking for money which Mr Ackroyd refused. But one thing’s clear – it wasn’t he who sent the telephone message.

The station is half a mile in the other direction – over a mile and a half from the Dog and Whistle, and he was at the Dog and Whistle until about ten minutes past ten. Dang that telephone call! We always come up against it.’ ‘We do indeed,’ agreed Poirot. ‘It is curious.’ ‘It’s just possible that if Captain Paton climbed into his uncle’s room and found him there murdered, he may have sent it. Got the wind up, thought he’d be accused, and cleared out. That’s possible, isn’t it?’ ‘Why should he have telephoned?’ I 185 ‘May have had doubts if the old man was really dead.

Thought he’d get the doctor up there as soon as possible, but didn’t want to give himself away. Yes, I say now, how’s that for a theory? Something in that, I should say.’ The inspector swelled his chest out importantly. He was so plainly delighted with himself that any words of ours would have been quite superfluous.

We arrived back at my house at this minute, and I hurried in to my surgery patients, who had all been waiting a considerable time, leaving Poirot to walk to the police station with the inspector.

Having dismissed the last patient, I strolled into the little room at the back of the house which I call my workshop 1 am rather proud of the home-made wireless set I turned out.

Caroline hates my workroom. I have kept my tools there, and Annie is not allowed to wreak havoc with a dustpan and brush. I was just adjusting the interior of an alarm clock which had been denounced as wholly unreliable by the household, when the door opened and Caroline put her head in.

‘Oh! there you are, James,’ she said, with deep disapproval.

‘M. Poirot wants to see you.’ ‘Well,’ I said, rather irritably, for her sudden entrance had startled me and I had let go of a piece of delicate mechanism. ‘If he wants to see me, he can come in here.’ ‘In here?’ said Caroline.

‘That’s what I said – in here.’ Caroline gave a sniff of disapproval and retired. She returned in a moment or two, ushering in Poirot, and then retired again, shutting the door with a bang.

‘Aha! my friend,’ said Poirot, coming forward and rubbing his hands. ‘You have not got rid of me so easily, you see!’ ‘Finished with the inspector?’ I asked.

‘For the moment, yes. And you, you have seen all the patients?’ ‘Yes.’ Poirot sat down and looked at me, tilting his egg-shaped head on one side, with the air of one who savours a very delicious joke.

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