Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1927-02-10
The Murder of Roger Ackroyd
Copyright by Dodd. Mead 4 Co.
By AGATHA CHRISTIE.

He unfolded the thick sheets of pa
per and read aloud in a low voice:
My Dear, My Very Dear Roger: A
life calls for a life. j see that saw
it in your face this afternoon. So l
am taking the only road open to me.
/ leave to you the punishment of the
person who has made my life a hell
upon earth for the last year. | would
not tell you the name this afternoon,
but / propose to write it to you now.
have no children or near relations
to be spared, SO do not fear publicity.
If you can, Roger, my very dear
Roger, forgive me the wrong meant
to do you since when the time came
could not do it after all.
Ackroyd, his finger on the sheet to
turn it over, paused.
sheppard forgive me. but / must
read this alone" he said unsteadily.
1T was meant for my eyes and my
eyes only"
He put the letter in the envelope
and laid it on the table.
Later, when ] am alone.
MOI / cried impulsively. Read
it now
Ackroyd stared at me in some sur
prise.
II beg your pardon" said, redden-
ing. IL do not mean read 1t aloud to
me. But read it through while ! am
still here"
Ackroyd shook his head.
''No I'd rather wait"
But for some reason, obscure to my
self, / continued to urge him.
"At least. read the name OF the
man." I said.
Now, Askroyd Is essentially pig
headed The more you urge him to do
a thing, the more determined ne Is not
to do 1t. All my arguments were in
vain.
The letter had been brought in at
90 minutes to 8. 1t was just on IO
minutes to when / left him, the
letter still unread. / hesitated with
my hand on the door handle, looking
back and wondering If there was any,
thing had left undone. couiu
think of nothing. With a shake OIL
the head I passed out and closed the
door behind me.
was startled by seeing the figure
of Parker close at hand. He looked
embarrassed and II occurred to me
that he might have been listening at
the door.
What a fat, SNUG, oily face the man
had, and surely there was something
decidedly shifty in his eye.
"Mr. Ackroyd particularly does not
want to be disturbed" I said coldly.
He told me to tell you So"
Quite so, sir. IL fancied | heard
the bell ring"
This was such palpable untruth
that 1 did not trouble to reply. Pre-.
ceding me to the hall, Parker helped
me on with my overcoat, and stepped
out into the night. The moon was
overcast and everything seemed very
dark and still. The village church
clock chimed 9 o'clock as / passed
through the lodge gates. l turned TO
the left toward the village and almost
cannoned into a man coming In the
opposite direction.
This the way to Fernly Park, mis-
ter?" asked the stranger in a hoarse
voice.
a. hat pulled down over his eyes and
his coat collar turned up. I could see
little or nothing of his face, but he
seemed a young fellow. The voice
was rough and uneducated.
These are the lodge gates here"
I said.
s'Thank you, mister" He paused
and then added quite unnecessarily,
I'm stranger in these parts, you
see."
He went on, passing through the
gates as / turned to look after him.
The odd thing was that his voice
reminded me of some ones voice that
] knew, but whose it was / could not
think.
Ten minutes later ! was at home
once more. Caroline was fun OF
curiosity to know why l had returned
so early. l had to make up a slightly
fictitious account of the evening In
order to satisfy her, and l had an
uneasy feeling that she saw through
| the transparent device.
At 10 o'clock rose, yawned, and
suggested bed. Caroline acquiesced.
1t was Friday night, and on Friday
night / wind the clocks. did 1t as
usual. whilst Caroline satisfied her.
self that the servants had locked UP
| the kitchen properly.
1t was a quarter past 10 as we went
| up the stairs. / had just reached the
| top when the telephone rang in the
hall below.
MRS. Bates" said Caroline inme
! diately.