The Clocks: A Hercule Poirot Mystery by Agatha Christie

Author:Agatha Christie [Christie, Agatha]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Tags: Mystery, Adult, Classics
ISBN: 9780062073815
Amazon: 0062073818
Publisher: Harper Paperbacks
Published: 2011-06-14T05:00:00+00:00

“‘The time has come, the Walrus said,

To talk of many things.

Of shoes and ships and sealing wax,

And cabbages and kings.

And why the sea is boiling hot

And whether pigs have wings.’”

He opened his eyes again and nodded his head.

“Do you understand?” he said.

“Quotation from ‘The Walrus and the Carpenter,’ Alice Through the Looking Glass.”

“Exactly. For the moment, that is the best I can do for you, mon cher. Reflect upon it.”

Fifteen

The inquest was well attended by the general public. Thrilled by a murder in their midst, Crowdean turned out with eager hopes of sensational disclosures. The proceedings, however, were as dry as they could be. Sheila Webb need not have dreaded her ordeal, it was over in a couple of minutes.

There had been a telephone message to the Cavendish Bureau directing her to go to 19, Wilbraham Crescent. She had gone, acting as told to do, by entering the sitting room. She had found the dead man there and had screamed and rushed out of the house to summon assistance. There were no questions or elaborations. Miss Martindale, who also gave evidence, was questioned for an even shorter time. She had received a message purporting to be from Miss Pebmarsh asking her to send a shorthand typist, preferably Miss Sheila Webb, to 19, Wilbraham Crescent, and giving certain directions. She had noted down the exact time of the telephone call as 1:49. That disposed of Miss Martindale.

Miss Pebmarsh, called next, denied categorically that she had asked for any typist to be sent to her that day from the Cavendish Bureau. Detective Inspector Hardcastle made a short emotionless statement. On receipt of a telephone call, he had gone to 19, Wilbraham Crescent where he had found the body of a dead man. The coroner then asked him:

“Have you been able to identify the dead man?”

“Not as yet, sir. For that reason, I would ask for this inquest to be adjourned.”

“Quite so.”

Then came the medical evidence. Doctor Rigg, the police surgeon, having described himself and his qualifications, told of his arrival at 19, Wilbraham Crescent, and of his examination of the dead man.

“Can you give us an approximate idea of the time of death, Doctor?”

“I examined him at half past three. I should put the time of death as between half past one and half past two.”

“You cannot put it nearer than that?”

“I should prefer not to do so. At a guess, the most likely time would be two o’clock or rather earlier, but there are many factors which have to be taken into account. Age, state of health, and so on.”

“You performed an autopsy?”

“I did.”

“The cause of death?”

“The man had been stabbed with a thin, sharp knife. Something in the nature, perhaps, of a French cooking knife with a tapering blade. The point of the knife entered … ” Here the doctor became technical as he explained the exact position where the knife had entered the heart.

“Would death have been instantaneous?”

“It would have occurred within a very few minutes.”

“The man would not have cried out or struggled?”

“Not under the circumstances in which he was stabbed.

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