Agatha Christie - And Then There Were None

Vera said:

"Surely some one can read Morse. And then they'll come to take us off. Long before this evening."

Lombard said:

"The weather's cleared all right, but the sea hasn't gone down yet. Terrific swell on! They won't be able to get a boat near the island before tomorrow."

Vera cried:

"Another night in this place!"

Lombard shrugged his shoulders.

"May as well face it! Twenty-four hours will do it, I think. If we can last out that, we'll be all right."

Blore cleared his throat. He said:

"We'd better come to a clear understanding. What's happened to Armstrong?"

Lombard said:

"Well, we've got one piece of evidence. Only three little Indian boys left on the dinner-table. It looks as though Armstrong had got his quietus."

Vera said:

"Then why haven't you found his dead body?"

Blore said:

"Exactly."

Lombard shook his head. He said:

"It's damned odd - no getting over it."

Blore said doubtfully:

"It might have been thrown into the sea."

Lombard said sharply:

"By whom? You? Me? You saw him go out of the front door. You come along and find me in my room. We go out and search together. When the devil had I time to kill him and carry his body round the island?"

Blore said:

"I don't know. But I do know one thing."

Lombard said:

"What's that?"

Blore said:

"The revolver. It was your revolver. It's in your possession now. There's nothing to show that it hasn't been in your possession all along."

"Come now, Blore, we were all searched."

"Yes, you'd hidden it away before that happened. Afterwards you just took it back again."

"My good blockhead, I swear to you that it was put back in my drawer. Greatest surprise I ever had in my life when I found it there."

Blore said:

"You ask us to believe a thing like that! Why the devil should Armstrong, or any one else for that matter, put it back?"

Lombard raised his shoulders hopelessly.

"I haven't the least idea. It's just crazy. The last thing one would expect. There seems no point in it."

Blore agreed.

"No, there isn't. You might have thought of a better story."

"Rather proof that I'm telling the truth, isn't it?"

"I don't look at it that way."

Philip said:

"You wouldn't."

Blore said:

"Look here, Mr. Lombard, if you're an honest man, as you pretend -"

Philip murmured:

"When did I lay claims to being an honest man? No, indeed, I never said that."

Blore went on stolidly:

"If you're speaking the truth - there's only one thing to be done. As long as you have that revolver, Miss Claythorne and I are at your mercy. The only fair thing is to put that revolver with the other things that are locked up - and you and I will hold the two keys still."

Philip Lombard lit a cigarette.

As he puffed smoke, he said:

"Don't be an ass."

"You won't agree to that?"

"No, I won't. That revolver's mine. I need it to defend myself - and I'm going to keep it."

Blore said:

"In that case we're bound to come to one conclusion."

"That I'm U.N. Owen? Think what you damned well please. But I'll ask you, if that's so, why I didn't pot you with the revolver last night? I could have, about twenty times over."

Blore shook his head.

He said:

"I don't know - and that's a fact. You must have had some reason."

Vera had taken no part in the discussion. She stirred now and said:

"I think you're both behaving like a pair of idiots."

Lombard looked at her.

"What's this?"

Vera said:

"You've forgotten the nursery rhyme. Don't you see there's a clue there?"

She recited in a meaning voice:

"Four little Indian boys going out to sea;

A red herring swallowed one and then there were three."

She went on:

"A red herring - that's the vital clue. Armstrong's not dead... He took away the china Indian to make you think he was. You may say what you like - Armstrong's on the island still. His disappearance is just a red herring across the track..."

Lombard sat down again.

He said:

"You know, you may be right."

Blore said:

"Yes, but if so, where is he? We've searched the place. Outside and inside."

Vera said scornfully:

"We all searched for the revolver, didn't we, and couldn't find it? But it was somewhere all the time!"

Lombard murmured:

"There's a slight difference in size, my dear, between a man and a revolver."

Vera said:

"I don't care - I'm sure I'm right."

Blore murmured:

"Rather giving himself away, wasn't it? Actually mentioning a red herring in the verse. He could have written it up a bit different."

Vera cried:

"But don't you see, he's mad? It's all mad! The whole thing of going by the rhyme is mad! Dressing up the judge, killing Rogers when he was chopping sticks - drugging Mrs. Rogers so that she overslept herself - arranging for a bumblebee when Miss Brent died! It's like some horrible child playing a game. It's all got to fit in."

Blore said:

"Yes, you're right." He thought a minute. "At any rate there's no Zoo on the island. He'll have a bit of trouble getting over that."

Vera cried:

"Don't you see? We're the Zoo... Last night, we were hardly human any more. We're the Zoo..."

They spent the morning on the cliffs, taking it in turns to flash a mirror at the mainland.

There were no signs that any one saw them. No answering signals. The day was fine, with a slight haze. Below, the sea weaved in a gigantic swell. There were no boats out.

They had made another abortive search of the island. There was no trace of the missing physician.

Vera looked up at the house from where they were standing.

She said, her breath coming with a slight catch in it:

"One feels safer here, out in the open... Don't let's go back into the house again."

Lombard said:

"Not a bad idea. We're pretty safe here, no one can get at us without our seeing him a long time beforehand."

Vera said:

"We'll stay here."

Blore said:

"Have to pass the night somewhere. We'll have to go back to the house then."

Vera shuddered,

"I can't bear it. I can't go through another night!"

Philip said:

"You'll be safe enough - locked in your room."

Vera murmured: "I suppose so."

She stretched out her hands, murmuring:

"It's lovely - to feel the sun again..."

She thought:

"How odd... I'm almost happy. And yet I suppose I'm actually in danger... Somehow - now - nothing seems to matter... not in daylight... I feel full of power - I feel that I can't die..."

Blore was looking at his wrist-watch. He said:

"It's two o'clock. What about lunch?"

Vera said obstinately:

"I'm not going back to the house. I'm going to stay here - in the open."

"Oh, come now, Miss Claythorne. Got to keep your strength up, you know."

Vera said:

"If I even see a tinned tongue, I shall be sick! I don't want any food. People go days on end with nothing sometimes when they're on a diet."

Blore said:

"Well, I need my meals regular. What about you, Mr. Lombard?"

Philip said:

"You know, I don't relish the idea of tinned tongue particularly. I'll stay here with Miss Claythorne."

Blore hesitated. Vera said:

"I shall be quite all right. I don't think he'll shoot me as soon as your back is turned if that's what you're afraid of."

Blore said:

"It's all right if you say so. But we agreed we ought not to separate."

Philip said:

"You're the one who wants to go into the lion's den. I'll come with you if you like?"

"No, you won't," said Blore. "You'll stay here."

Philip laughed.

"So you're still afraid of me? Why, I could shoot you both this very minute if I liked."