Agatha Christie - A Murder is Announced

"And your next encounter?"

"About – yes, it must have been ten days ago, he suddenly turned up here. I was very surprised to see him. He apologised for troubling me, but said I was the only person he knew in England. He told me that he urgently needed money to return to Switzerland as his mother was dangerously ill."

"But Letty didn't give it to him," Miss Bunner put in breathlessly.

"It was a thoroughly fishy story," said Miss Blacklog, with vigour. "I made up my mind that he was definitely a wrong 'un. That story about wanting the money to return to Switzerland was nonsense. His father could easily have wired for arrangements to have been made in this country. These hotel people are all in with each other. I suspected that he'd been embezzling money or something of that kind." She paused and said dryly: "In case you think I'm hardhearted, I was secretary for many years to a big financier and one becomes wary about appeals for money. I know simply all the hard luck stories there are.

"The only thing that did surprise me," she added thoughtfully, "was that he gave in so easily. He went away at once without any more argument. It's as though he had never expected to get the money."

"Do you think now, looking back on it, that his coming was really by way of a pretext to spy out the land?"

Miss Blacklog nodded her head vigorously.

"That's exactly what I do think – now. He made certain remarks as I let him out – about the rooms. He said, 'You have a very nice dining-room' (which of course it isn't – it's a horrid dark little room) just as an excuse to look inside. And then he sprang forward and unfastened the front door, said, 'Let me.' I think now he wanted to have a look at the fastening. Actually, like most people round here, we never lock the front door until it gets dark. Anyone could walk in."

"And the side door? There is a side door to the garden, I understand?"

"Yes. I went out through it to shut up the ducks not long before the people arrived."

"Was it locked when you went out?"

Miss Blacklog frowned.

"I can't remember… I think so. I certainly locked it when I came in."

"That would be about quarter-past six?"

"Somewhere about then."

"And the front door?"

"That's not usually locked until later."

"Then Scherz could have walked in quite easily that way. Or he could have slipped in whilst you were out shutting up the ducks. He'd already spied out the lie of the land and had probably noted various places of concealment – cupboards, etc. Yes, that all seems quite clear."

"I beg your pardon, it isn't at all clear," said Miss Blacklog. "Why on earth should anyone take all that elaborate trouble to come and burgle this house and stage that silly sort of holdup?"

"Do you keep much money in the house, Miss Blacklog?"

"About five pounds in that desk there, and perhaps a pound or two in my purse."

"Jewellery?"

"A couple of rings and brooches and the cameos I'm wearing. You must agree with me, Inspector, that the whole thing's absurd."

"It wasn't burglary at all," cried Miss Bunner. "I've told you so, Letty, all along. It was revenge! Because you wouldn't give him that money! He deliberately shot at you – twice."

"Ah," said Craddock. "We'll come now to last night. What happened exactly, Miss Blacklog? Tell me in your own words as nearly as you can remember."

Miss Blacklog reflected a moment.

"The clock struck," she said. "The one on the mantelpiece. I remember saying that if anything were going to happen it would have to happen soon. And then the clock struck. We all listened to it without saying anything. It chimes, you know. It chimed the two quarters and then, quite suddenly, the lights went out."

"What lights were on?"

"The wall brackets in here and the further room. The standard lamp and the two small reading lamps weren't on."

"Was there a flash first, or a noise when the lights went out?"

"I don't think so."

"I'm sure there was a flash," said Dora Bunner. "And a crackling noise. Dangerous!"

"And then, Miss Blacklog?"

"The door opened"

"Which door? There are two in the room."

"Oh, this door in here. The one in the other room doesn't open. It's a dummy. The door opened and there he was – a masked man with a revolver. It just seemed too fantastic for words, but of course at the time I just thought it was a silly joke. He said something – I forget what"

"Hands up or I shoot!" supplied Miss Bunner, dramatically.

"Something like that," said Miss Blacklog, rather doubtfully.

"And you all put your hands up?"

"Oh, yes," said Miss Bunner. "We all did. I mean, it was part of it."

"I didn't," said Miss Blacklog, crisply. "It seemed so utterly silly. And I was annoyed by the whole thing."

"And then?"

"The flashlight was right in my eyes. It dazzled me. And then, quite incredibly, I heard a bullet whizz past me and hit the wall by my head. Somebody shrieked and then I felt a burning pain in my ear and heard the second report."

"It was terrifying," put in Miss Bunner.

"And what happened next, Miss Blacklog?"

"It's difficult to say – I was so staggered by the pain and the surprise. The – the figure turned away and seemed to stumble and then there was another shot and his torch went out and everybody began pushing and calling out. All banging into each other."

"Where were you standing, Miss Blacklog?"

"She was over by the table. She'd got that vase of violets in her hand," said Miss Bunner breathlessly.

"I was over here," Miss Blacklog went over to the small table by the archway. "Actually it was the cigarette-box I'd got in my hand."

Inspector Craddock examined the wall behind her. The two bullet holes showed plainly. The bullets themselves had been extracted and had been sent for comparison with the revolver.

He said quietly: "You had a very near escape, Miss Blacklog."

"He did shoot at her," said Miss Bunner. "Deliberately at her! I saw him. He turned the flash round on everybody until he found her and then he held it right at her and just fired at her. He meant to kill you, Letty."

"Dora dear, you've just got that into your head from mulling the whole thing over and over."

"He shot at you," repeated Dora stubbornly. "He meant to shoot you and when he'd missed, he shot himself. I'm certain that's the way it was!"

"I don't think he meant to shoot himself for a minute," said Miss Blacklog. "He wasn't the kind of man who shoots himself."

"You tell me, Miss Blacklog, that until the revolver was fired you thought the whole business was a joke?"

"Naturally. What else could I think it was?"

"Who do you think was the author of this joke?"

"You thought Patrick had done it at first," Dora Bunner reminded her.

"Patrick?" asked the Inspector sharply.

"My young cousin, Patrick Simmons," Miss Blacklog continued sharply, annoyed with her friend. "It did occur to me when I saw this advertisement that it might be some attempt at humour on his part, but he denied it absolutely."

"And then you were worried, Letty," said Miss Bunner. "You were worried, although you pretended not to be. And you were quite right to be worried. It said a murder is announced – and it was announced – your murder! And if the man hadn't missed, you would have been murdered. And then where should we all be?"

Dora Bunner was trembling as she spoke. Her face was puckered up and she looked as though she were going to cry.

Miss Blacklog patted her on the shoulder. "It's all right, Dora dear – don't get excited. It's so bad for you. Everything's quite all right. We've had a nasty experience, but it's over now." She added, "You must pull yourself together for my sake, Dora. I rely on you, you know, to keep the house going. Isn't it the day for the laundry to come?"