Agatha Christie - Spider's Web

WHEN THE three men arrived at the golf club, Hugo was busily complaining about Clarissa's behaviour in making them test the port. "Really, she ought to stop playing these games, you know," Hugo said as they made their way to the bar. "Do you remember, Roly, the time I received that telegram from Whitehall telling me that I was going to be offered a knighthood in the next Honours List? It was only when I mentioned it in confidence to Henry one evening when I was dining with them both, and Henry was perplexed but Clarissa started giggling – it was only then that I discovered she'd sent the bloody thing. She can be so childish sometimes." Sir Rowland chuckled. "Yes, she can indeed. And she loves play-acting. You know, she was actually a damned good actress in her school's drama club. At one time I thought she'd take it up seriously and go on the stage professionally. She's so convincing, even when she's telling the most dreadful lies. And that's what actors are, surely. Convincing liars." He was lost in reminiscence for a moment, and then continued, "Clarissa's best friend at school was a girl called Jeanette Collins, whose father had been a famous footballer. And Jeanette herself was a mad football fan. Well, one day Clarissa rang Jeanette in an assumed voice, claiming to be the public relations officer for some football team or other, and told her that she'd been chosen to be the team's new mascot, but that it all depended on her dressing in a funny costume as a rabbit and standing outside the Chelsea Stadium that afternoon as the customers were queuing up to get in. Somehow Jeanette managed to hire a costume in time, and got to the stadium dressed as a bunny rabbit, where she was laughed at by hundreds of people and photographed by Clarissa, who was waiting there for her. Jeanette was furious. I don't think the friendship survived."

"Oh, well," Hugo growled resignedly, as he picked up a menu and began to devote his attention to the serious business of choosing what they would eat later.

Meanwhile, back in the Hailsham-Browns' drawing-room, only some minutes after Henry had gone off to have a quick shower and change his clothes before setting out for the aerodrome, Oliver Costello entered the empty room stealthily through the French windows, leaving the curtains open so that moonlight streamed in. He shone a torch carefully around the room, then went to the desk and switched on the lamp that was on it. After lifting the flap of the secret drawer, he suddenly switched off the lamp and stood motionless for a moment as though he had heard something. Apparently reassured, he switched the desk lamp on again, and opened the secret drawer.

Behind Costello, the panel in the bookshelf slowly and quietly opened. He shut the secret drawer in the desk, switched the lamp off again, and then turned sharply as he was struck a fierce blow on the head by someone behind the panel. Costello collapsed immediately, falling behind the sofa, and the panel closed again, this time more quickly.

The room remained in darkness for a moment, until Henry Hailsham-Brown entered from the hall, switched on the wall-brackets, and shouted, "Clarissa!" Putting his spectacles on, he filled his cigarette-case from the box on a table near the sofa as Clarissa came in, calling, "Here I am, darling. Do you want a sandwich before you go?"

"No, I think I'd better start," Henry replied, patting his jacket nervously."But you'll be hours too early," Clarissa told him. "It can't take you more than twenty minutes to drive there." Henry shook his head. "One never knows," he declared. "I might have a puncture, or something might go wrong with the car."

"Don't fuss, darling," Clarissa admonished him, straightening his tie as she spoke. "It's all going to go very smoothly."

"Now, what about Pippa?" Henry asked anxiously. "You're sure she won't come down or barge in while Sir John and Kalen – I mean, Mr. Jones – are talking privately?"

"No, there's no danger of that," Clarissa assured him. "I'll go up to her room and we'll have a feast together. We'll toast tomorrow's breakfast sausages and share the chocolate mousse between us." Henry smiled affectionately at his wife. "You're very good to Pippa, my dear," he told her. "It's one of the things I'm most grateful to you for." He paused, looked embarrassed, and then continued speaking. "I can never express myself very well... I... you know... so much misery... and now, everything's so different. You..." Taking Clarissa in his arms, he kissed her.

For some moments they remained locked in a loving embrace. Then Clarissa gently broke away, but continued to hold hands with him. "You've made me very happy, Henry," she told him. "And Pippa is going to be fine. She's a lovely child." Henry gazed at her fondly. "Now, you go and meet your Mr. Jones," she ordered him, pushing him towards the hall door. "Mr. Jones," she repeated. "I still think that's a ridiculous name to have chosen." Henry was about to leave the room when Clarissa asked him,"Are you going to come in by the front door? Shall I leave it unlatched?"He paused in the doorway to consider. Then, "No," he said. "I think we'll come in through the French windows."

"You'd better put on your overcoat, Henry. It's quite chilly," Clarissa advised, pushing him into the hall as she spoke. "And perhaps your muffler as well." He took his coat obediently from a rack in the hall, and she followed him to the front door with a final word of advice. "Drive carefully, darling, won't you?"

"Yes, yes," Henry called back. "You know I always do." Clarissa shut the door behind him and went off to the kitchen to finish making the sandwiches that she had begun to prepare earlier. As she put the sandwiches on a plate, wrapping a damp napkin around the plate to keep them fresh, she could not help thinking of her recent unnerving encounter with Oliver Costello. She was frowning as she carried the sandwiches back to the drawing-room, where she put them on the small table.

Suddenly fearful of incurring Miss Peake's wrath for having marked the table, she snatched the plate up again, rubbed unsuccessfully at the mark it had made, and compromised by covering it with a nearby vase of flowers. She transferred the plate of sandwiches to the stool, then carefully shook the cushions on the sofa. Singing quietly to herself, she picked up Pippa's book and took it across to replace it on the bookshelves. "Can a body meet a body, coming through the – " She suddenly stopped singing and uttered a scream as she stumbled and nearly fell over Oliver Costello's body.

Bending over the body, Clarissa recognised who it was. "Oliver!" she gasped. She stared at him in horror for what seemed an age. Then, convinced that he was dead, she straightened up quickly and ran towards the door to call Henry, but immediately realised that he had gone. She turned back to the body, and then ran to the telephone and lifted the receiver. She began to dial, but then stopped and replaced the receiver again. She stood thinking for a moment, and looked at the panel in the wall. Making up her mind quickly, she glanced at the panel again, and then reluctantly bent down and began to drag the body across to it.

While she was engaged in doing this, the panel slowly opened and Pippa emerged from the recess, wearing a dressing-gown over her pyjamas. "Clarissa!" she wailed, rushing to her stepmother.

Trying to stand between her and the body of Costello, Clarissa gave Pippa a little shove, in an attempt to turn her away. "Pippa," she advised, "don't look, darling. Don't look." In a strangled voice, Pippa cried, "I didn't mean to. Oh, really, I didn't mean to do it." Horrified, Clarissa seized the child by her arms. "Pippa! Was it – you?" she gasped."He's dead, isn't he? He's quite dead?" Pippa asked.

Sobbing hysterically, she cried, "I didn't – mean to kill him. I didn't mean to."