Moving Finger by Agatha Christie

Author:Agatha Christie [Christie, Agatha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Detective and Mystery Stories
ISBN: 9789953381404
Publisher: Dār Mīyūzik
Published: 1951-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Eight

I

I slept badly that night. I think that, even then, there were pieces of the puzzle floating about in my mind. I believe that if I had given my mind to it, I could have solved the whole thing then and there. Otherwise why did those fragments tag along so persistently?

How much do we know at anytime? Much more, or so I believe, than we know we know! But we cannot break through to that subterranean knowledge. It is there, but we cannot reach it.

I lay on my bed, tossing uneasily, and only vague bits of the puzzle came to torture me.

There was a pattern, if only I could get hold of it. I ought to know who wrote those damned letters. There was a trail somewhere if only I could follow it….

As I dropped off to sleep, words danced irritatingly through my drowsy mind.

“No smoke without fire.” No fire without smoke. Smoke… Smoke? Smoke screen… No, that was the war—a war phrase. War. Scrap of paper… Only a scrap of paper. Belgium— Germany….

I fell asleep. I dreamt that I was taking Mrs. Dane Calthrop, who had turned into a greyhound, for a walk with a collar and lead.

II

It was the ringing of the telephone that roused me. A persistent ringing.

I sat up in bed, glanced at my watch. It was half past seven. I had not yet been called. The telephone was ringing in the hall downstairs.

I jumped out of bed, pulled on a dressing-gown, and raced down. I beat Partridge coming through the back door from the kitchen by a short head. I picked up the receiver.

“Hallo?”

“Oh—” It was a sob of relief. “It’s you!” Megan’s voice. Megan’s voice indescribably forlorn and frightened. “Oh, please do come—do come. Oh, please do! Will you?”

“I’m coming at once,” I said. “Do you hear? At once.”

I took the stairs two at a time and burst in on Joanna.

“Look here, Jo, I’m going off to the Symmingtons.’”

Joanna lifted a curly blonde head from the pillow and rubbed her eyes like a small child.

“Why—what’s happened?”

“I don’t know. It was the child— Megan. She sounded all in.”

“What do you think it is?”

“The girl Agnes, unless I’m very much mistaken.”

As I went out of the door, Joanna called after me:

“Wait. I’ll get up and drive you down.”

“No need. I’ll drive myself.”

“You can’t drive the car.”

“Yes, I can.”

I did, too. It hurt, but not too much. I’d washed, shaved, dressed, got the car out and driven to the Symmingtons’ in half an hour. Not bad going.

Megan must have been watching for me. She came out of the house at a run and clutched me. Her poor little face was white and twitching.

“Oh, you’ve come—you’ve come!”

“Hold up, funny face,” I said. “Yes, I’ve come. Now what is it?”

She began to shake. I put my arm round her.

“I— I found her.”

“You found Agnes? Where?”

The trembling grew.

“Under the stairs. There’s a cupboard there. It has fishing rods and golf clubs and things. You know.”

I nodded. It was the usual cupboard.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.