Agatha Christie - Hickory Dickory Dock

J'irais a la police. fe time supporterais pas une pareille…" Colin McNabb had been attempting to make himself heard for some time, but his deep superior drawl had been drowned by the higher pitched voices.

Abandoning his superior attitude he now brought down his fist with a heavy crash on the table and startled everyone into silence. The marmalade pot skidded off the table and broke.

"Will you hold your tongues, all of you, and hear me speak. I've never heard more crass ignorance and unkindness! Don't any of you have even a nodding acquaintance with psychology? The girl's not to be blamed, I tell you. She's been going through a severe emotional crisis and she needs treating with the utmost sympathy and care-or she may remain unstable for life. I'm warning you. The utmost care-that's what she needs."

"But after all," said Jean, in a clear, priggish voice, "although I quite agree about being kind-we oughtn't to condone that sort of thing, ought we? Stealing, I mean."

"Stealing," said Colin. "This wasn't stealing. Och! You make me sick-all of you."

"Interesting case, is she, Colin?" said Valerie and grinned at him. "If you're interested in the workings of the mind, yes."

"Of course, she didn't take anything of mine-" began Jean, "but I do think-"

"No, she didn't take anything of yours," said Colin, turning to scowl at her. "And if you knew in the least what that meant you'd maybe not be too pleased about it."

"Really, I don't see-"

"Oh, come on, Jean," said Len Bateson.

"Let's stop nagging and nattering. I'm going to be late and so are you."

They went out together. "Tell Celia to buck up," he said over his shoulder.

"I should like to make formal protest," said Mr. Chandra Lal. "Boracic powder very necessary for my eyes which much inflamed by study, was removed…"

"And you'll be late too, Mr. Chandra Lal," said Mrs. Hubbard firmly.

"My Professor is often unpunctual," said Mr. Chandra Lal gloomily, but moving towards the door. "Also, he is irritable and unreasonable when I ask many questions of searching nature-"

"Mais il faut qu'elle me le rende, ce compact," said Genevieve.

"You must speak English, Genevieve-you'll never learn English if you go back into French whenever you're excited. And you had Sunday dinner in this week and you haven't paid me for it."

"Ah, I have not my purse just now. Tonight-Viens, Rend, nous serons en retard."

"Please," said Mr. Akibombo, looking round him beseechingly. "I do not understand."

"Come along, Akibombo," said Sally. "I'll tell you all about it on the way to the Institute." She nodded reassuringly to Mrs. Hubbard and steered the bewildered Akibombo out of the room. "Oh dear," said Mrs. Hubbard, drawing a deep breath. "Why in the world I ever took this job on!" Valerie, who was the only person left, grinned in a friendly fashion.

"Don't worry, Ma," she said.

"It's a good thing it's all come out! Everyone was getting on the jumpy side."

"I must say I was very surprised."

"That it turned out to be Celia?"

"Yes. Weren't you?" Valerie said in a rather absent voice, "Rather obvious, really, I should have thought."

"Have you been thinking so all along?"

"Well, one or two things made me wonder.

At any rate she's got Colin where she wants him."

"Yes, I can't help feeling that it's wrong."

"You can't get a man with a gun," Valerie laughed. "But a spot of kleptomania does the trick? Don't worry, Mum. And for God's sake make Celia give Genevieve back her compact, otherwise we shall never have any peace at meals."

Mrs. Hubbard said with a sigh, "Nigel has cracked his saucer and the marmalade pot is broken."

"Hell of a morning, isn't it?" said Valerie.

She went out. Mrs. Hubbard heard her voice in the hall saying cheerfully, "Good morning, Celia. The coast's clear. All is known and all is going to be forgiven-by order of Pious Jean. As for Colin, he's been roaring like a lion on your behalf." Celia came into the dining room. Her eyes were reddened with crying.

"Oh, Mrs. Hubbard."

"You're very late, Celia. The coffee's cold and there's not much left to cat."

"I didn't want to meet the others."

"So I gather. But you've got to meet them sooner or later."

"Oh, yes, I know. But I thought-by this evening would be easier. And of course I shall't stop on here. I'll go at the end of the week." Mrs. Hubbard frowned.

"I don't think there's any need for that. You must expect a little unpleasantness-that's only fair-but they're generous minded young people on the whole. Of course you'll have to make reparation as far as possible-" Celia interrupted her eagerly.

"Oh yes. I've got my cheque book here. That's one of the things I wanted to say to you." She looked down. She was holding a cheque book and an envelope in her hand. "I'd written to you in case you weren't about when I got down, to say how sorry I was and I meant to put in a cheque, so that you could square up with people-but my pen ran out of ink."

"We'll have to make a list."

"I have-as far as possible. But I don't know whether to try and buy new things or just to give the money."

"I'll think it over. It's difficult to say offhand."

"Oh, but do let me we you a cheque now. I'd feel so much better." About to say uncompromisingly "Really? And why should you be allowed to make yourself feel better?" Mrs. Hubbard reflected that since the students were always short of ready cash, the whole affair would be more easily settled that way. It would also placate Genevieve who otherwise might make trouble with Mrs. Nicoletis. (there would be trouble enough there anyway.) "All right," she said. She ran her eye down the list of objects. "It's difficult to say how much offhand" Celia said eagerly, "Let me give you a cheque for what you think roughly and then you find out from people and I can take some back or give you more."

"Very well." Mrs. Hubbard tentatively mentioned a sum which gave, she considered, ample margin, and Celia agreed at once. She opened the cheque book.

"Oh bother my pen." She went over to the shelves where odds and ends were kept belonging to various students. "There doesn't seem to be any ink here except Nigel's awful green. Oh, I'll use that. Nigel won't mind, I must remember to get a new bottle of ink when I go out." She filled the pen and came back and wrote out the cheque.

Giving it to Mrs. Hubbard, she glanced at her watch.

"I shall be late. I'd better not stop for breakfast."

"Now you'd better have something, Celia-even if it's only a bit of bread and butter-no good going out on an emlyly stomach. Yes, what is it?" Geronimo, the Italian manservant, had come into the room and was making emphatic gestures with his hands, his wizened monkey-like face screwed up in a comical grimace.

"The Padrona, she just come in. She want to see you." He added, with a final gesture, "She plenty mad."

"I'm coming." Mrs. Hubbard left the room while Celia hurriedly began hacking a piece off the loaf.

Mrs. Nicoletis was walking up and down her room in a fairly good imitation of a tiger at the Zoo near feeding time.

"What is this I hear?" she burst out. "You send for the police? Without a word to me? Who do you think you are? My God, who does the woman think she is?"

"I did not send for the police."

"You are a liar."

"Now then, Mrs. Nicoletis, you can't talk to me like that."

"Oh no. Certainly not! It is I who am wrong, not you. Always me. Everything you do is perfect. Police in my respectable Hostel."

"It wouldn't be the first time," said Mrs. Hubbard, recalling various unpleasant incidents.

"There was that West Indian student who was wanted for living on immoral earnings and the notorious young communist agitator who came here under a false name-and-"