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| the mysterious affair at styles - agatha christie.epub |
Agatha Christie
The Mysterious Mr Quin
To Harlequin the Invisible
Contents
Foreword
1 The Coming of Mr Quin
2 The Shadow on the Glass
3 At the ‘Bells and Motley’
4 The Sign in the Sky
5 The Soul of the Croupier
6 The Man from the Sea
7 The Voice in the Dark
8 The Face of Helen
9 The Dead Harlequin
10 The Bird with the Broken Wing
11 The World’s End
12 Harlequin’s Lane
About the Author
Other Books by Agatha Christie
Copyright
About the Publisher
Foreword
The Mr Quin stories were not written as a series. They were written one at a
time at rare intervals. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Mr Quin, I consider, is an epicure’s taste.
A set of Dresden figures on my mother’s mantelpiece fascinated me as a child
and afterwards. They represented the Italian commedia dell’arte: Harlequin,
Columbine, Pierrot, Pierette, Punchinello, and Punchinella. As a girl I wrote
a series of poems about them, and I rather think that one of the poems,
Harlequin’s Song, was my first appearance in print. It was in the Poetry
Review, and I got a guinea for it!
After I turned from poetry and ghost stories to crime, Harlequin finally
reappeared; a figure invisible except when he chose, not quite human, yet
concerned with the affairs of human beings and particularly of lovers. He is
also the advocate for the dead.
Though each story about him is quite separate, yet the collection, written
over a considerable period of years, outlines in the end of the story of
Harlequin himself.
With Mr Quin there has been created little Mr Satterthwaite, Mr Quin’s friend
in this mortal world: Mr Satterthwaite, the gossip, the looker-on at life, the
little man who without ever touching the depths of joy and sorrow himself,
recognizes drama when he sees it, and is conscious that he has a part to play.
Of the Mr Quin stories, my favourite are: World’s End, The Man from the Sea,
and Harlequin’s Lane.
! | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
image
Chapter 1
The Coming of Mr Quin
It was New Year’s Eve.
The elder members of the house party at Royston were assembled in the big
hall.
Mr Satterthwaite was glad that the young people had gone to bed. He was not
fond of young people in herds. He thought them uninteresting and crude. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
They
lacked subtlety and as life went on he had become increasingly fond of
subtleties.
Mr Satterthwaite was sixty-two–a little bent, dried-up man with a peering face
oddly elflike, and an intense and inordinate interest in other people’s lives.
All his life, so to speak, he had sat in the front row of the stalls watching
various dramas of human nature unfold before him. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
His role had always been
that of the onlooker. Only now, with old age holding him in its clutch, he
found himself increasingly critical of the drama submitted to him. He demanded
now something a little out of the common.
There was no doubt that he had a flair for these things. He knew instinctively
when the elements of drama were at hand. Like a war horse, he sniffed the
scent. Since his arrival at Royston this afternoon, that strange inner sense
of his had stirred and bid him be ready. Something interesting was happening
or going to happen.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
The house party was not a large one. There was Tom Evesham, their genial good-
humoured host, and his serious political wife who had been before her marriage
Lady Laura Keene. There was Sir Richard Conway, soldier, traveller and
sportsman, there were six or seven young people whose names Mr Satterthwaite
had not grasped and there were the Portals.
It was the Portals who interested Mr Satterthwaite.
He had never met Alex Portal before, but he knew all about him. Had known his
father and his grandfather. Alex Portal ran pretty true to type. He was a man
of close on forty, fair-haired, and blue-eyed like all the Portals, fond of
sport, good at games, devoid of imagination. Nothing unusual about Alex
Portal. The usual good sound English stock.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
But his wife was different. She was, Mr Satterthwaite knew, an Australian.
Portal had been out in Australia two years ago, had met her out there and had
married her and brought her home. She had never been to England previous to
her marriage. All the same, she wasn’t at all like any other Australian woman
Mr Satterthwaite had met.
He observed her now, covertly. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Interesting woman–very. So still, and yet
so–alive. Alive! | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
That was just it! Not exactly beautiful–no, you wouldn’t call
her beautiful, but there was a kind of calamitous magic about her that you
couldn’t miss–that no man could miss. The masculine side of Mr Satterthwaite
spoke there, but the feminine side (for Mr Satterthwaite had a large share of
femininity) was equally interested in another question. Why did Mrs Portal dye
her hair?
No other man would probably have known that she dyed her hair, but Mr
Satterthwaite knew. He knew all those things. And it puzzled him. Many dark
women dye their hair blonde; he had never before come across a fair woman who
dyed her hair black.
Everything about her intrigued him. In a queer intuitive way, he felt certain
that she was either very happy or very unhappy–but he didn’t know which, and
it annoyed him not to know. Furthermore there was the curious effect she had
upon her husband.
‘He adores her,’ said Mr Satterthwaite to himself, ‘but sometimes he’s–yes,
afraid of her! That’s very interesting. That’s uncommonly interesting.’
Portal drank too much. That was certain. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
And he had a curious way of watching
his wife when she wasn’t looking.
‘Nerves,’ said Mr Satterthwaite. ‘The fellow’s all nerves. She knows it too,
but she won’t do anything about it.’
He felt very curious about the pair of them. Something was going on that he
couldn’t fathom.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
He was roused from his meditations on the subject by the solemn chiming of the
big clock in the corner.
‘Twelve o’clock,’ said Evesham. ‘New Year’s Day. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Happy New Year–everybody. As
a matter of fact that clock’s five minutes fast…I don’t know why the children
wouldn’t wait up and see the New Year in?’
‘I don’t suppose for a minute they’ve really gone to bed,’ said his wife
placidly. ‘They’re probably putting hairbrushes or something in our beds. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
That
sort of thing does so amuse them. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
I can’t think why. We should never have been
allowed to do such a thing in my young days.’
‘Autre temps, autres moeurs,’ said Conway, smiling.
He was a tall soldierly-looking man. Both he and Evesham were much of the same
type–honest upright kindly men with no great pretensions to brains.
‘In my young days we all joined hands in a circle and sang “Auld Lang Syne”,’
continued Lady Laura. ‘“Should auld acquaintance be forgot”–so touching, I
always think the words are.’
Evesham moved uneasily.
‘Oh! | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
drop it, Laura,’ he muttered. ‘Not here.’
He strode across the wide hall where they were sitting, and switched on an
extra light.
‘Very stupid of me,’ said Lady Laura, sotto voce. ‘Reminds him of poor Mr
Capel, of course. My dear, is the fire too hot for you?’
Eleanor Portal made a brusque movement.
‘Thank you. I’ll move my chair back a little.’
What a lovely voice she had–one of those low murmuring echoing voices that
stay in your memory, thought Mr Satterthwaite. Her face was in shadow now.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
What a pity.
From her place in the shadow she spoke again.
‘Mr–Capel?’
‘Yes. The man who originally owned this house. He shot himself you know–oh!
very well, Tom dear, I won’t speak of it unless you like. It was a great shock
for Tom, of course, because he was here when it happened. So were you, weren’t
you, Sir Richard?’
‘Yes, Lady Laura.’
An old grandfather clock in the corner groaned, wheezed, snorted
asthmatically, and then struck twelve.
‘Happy New Year, Tom,’ grunted Evesham perfunctorily.
Lady Laura wound up her knitting with some deliberation.
‘Well, we’ve seen the New Year in,’ she observed, and added, looking towards
Mrs Portal, ‘What do you think, my dear?’
Eleanor Portal rose quickly to her feet.
‘Bed, by all means,’ she said lightly.
‘She’s very pale,’ thought Mr Satterthwaite, as he too rose, and began busying
himself with candlesticks. ‘She’s not usually as pale as that.’
He lighted her candle and handed it to her with a funny little old-fashioned
bow. She took it from him with a word of acknowledgment and went slowly up the
stairs.
Suddenly a very odd impulse swept over Mr Satterthwaite. He wanted to go after
her–to reassure her–he had the strangest feeling that she was in danger of
some kind. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
The impulse died down, and he felt ashamed. He was getting nervy
too.
She hadn’t looked at her husband as she went up the stairs, but now she turned
her head over her shoulder and gave him a long searching glance which had a
queer intensity in it. It affected Mr Satterthwaite very oddly.
He found himself saying goodnight to his hostess in quite a flustered manner.
‘I’m sure I hope it will be a happy New Year,’ Lady Laura was saying. ‘But the
political situation seems to me to be fraught with grave uncertainty.’
‘I’m sure it is,’ said Mr Satterthwaite earnestly. ‘I’m sure it is.’
‘I only hope,’ continued Lady Laura, without the least change of manner, ‘that
it will be a dark man who first crosses the threshold. You know that
superstition, I suppose, Mr Satterthwaite? No? | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
You surprise me. To bring luck
to the house it must be a dark man who first steps over the door step on New
Year’s Day. Dear me, I hope I shan’t find anything very unpleasant in my bed.
I never trust the children. They have such very high spirits.’
Shaking her head in sad foreboding, Lady Laura moved majestically up the
staircase.
With the departure of the women, chairs were pulled in closer round the
blazing logs on the big open hearth.
‘Say when,’ said Evesham, hospitably, as he held up the whisky decanter.
When everybody had said when, the talk reverted to the subject which had been
tabooed before.
‘You knew Derek Capel, didn’t you, Satterthwaite?’ asked Conway.
‘Slightly–yes.’
‘And you, Portal?’
‘No, I never met him.’
So fiercely and defensively did he say it, that Mr Satterthwaite looked up in
surprise.
‘I always hate it when Laura brings up the subject,’ said Evesham slowly.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
‘After the tragedy, you know, this place was sold to a big manufacturer
fellow. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
He cleared out after a year–didn’t suit him or something. A lot of
tommy rot was talked about the place being haunted of course, and it gave the
house a bad name. Then, when Laura got me to stand for West Kidleby, of course
it meant living up in these parts, and it wasn’t so easy to find a suitable
house. Royston was going cheap, and–well, in the end I bought it. Ghosts are
all tommy rot, but all the same one doesn’t exactly care to be reminded that
you’re living in a house where one of your own friends shot himself. Poor old
Derek–we shall never know why he did it.’
‘He won’t be the first or the last fellow who’s shot himself without being
able to give a reason,’ said Alex Portal heavily.
He rose and poured himself out another drink, splashing the whisky in with a
liberal hand.
‘There’s something very wrong with him,’ said Mr Satterthwaite, to himself.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
‘Very wrong indeed. I wish I knew what it was all about.’
‘Gad!’ said Conway. ‘Listen to the wind. It’s a wild night.’
‘A good night for ghosts to walk,’ said Portal with a reckless laugh. ‘All the
devils in Hell are abroad tonight.’
‘According to Lady Laura, even the blackest of them would bring us luck,’
observed Conway, with a laugh. ‘Hark to that!’
The wind rose in another terrific wail, and as it died away there came three
loud knocks on the big nailed doorway.
Everyone started.
‘Who on earth can that be at this time of night?’ cried Evesham.
They stared at each other.
‘I will open it,’ said Evesham. ‘The servants have gone to bed.’
He strode across to the door, fumbled a little over the heavy bars, and
finally flung it open. An icy blast of wind came sweeping into the hall.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Framed in the doorway stood a man’s figure, tall and slender. To Mr
Satterthwaite, watching, he appeared by some curious effect of the stained
glass above the door, to be dressed in every colour of the rainbow. Then, as
he stepped forward, he showed himself to be a thin dark man dressed in
motoring clothes.
‘I must really apologize for this intrusion,’ said the stranger, in a pleasant
level voice. ‘But my car broke down. Nothing much, my chauffeur is putting it
to rights, but it will take half an hour or so, and it is so confoundedly cold
outside–’
He broke off, and Evesham took up the thread quickly.
‘I should think it was. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Come in and have a drink. We can’t give you any
assistance about the car, can we?’
‘No, thanks. My man knows what to do. By the way, my name is Quin–Harley
Quin.’
‘Sit down, Mr Quin,’ said Evesham. ‘Sir Richard Conway, Mr Satterthwaite. My
name is Evesham.’
Mr Quin acknowledged the introductions, and dropped into the chair that
Evesham had hospitably pulled forward. As he sat, some effect of the firelight
threw a bar of shadow across his face which gave almost the impression of a
mask.
Evesham threw a couple more logs on the fire.
‘A drink?’
‘Thanks.’
Evesham brought it to him and asked as he did so:
‘So you know this part of the world well, Mr Quin?’
‘I passed through it some years ago.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. This house belonged then to a man called Capel.’
‘Ah! yes,’ said Evesham. ‘Poor Derek Capel. You knew him?’
‘Yes, I knew him.’
Evesham’s manner underwent a faint change, almost imperceptible to one who had
not studied the English character. Before, it had contained a subtle reserve,
now this was laid aside. Mr Quin had known Derek Capel. He was the friend of a
friend, and, as such, was vouched for and fully accredited.
‘Astounding affair, that,’ he said confidentially. ‘We were just talking about
it. I can tell you, it went against the grain, buying this place. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
If there had
been anything else suitable, but there wasn’t you see. I was in the house the
night he shot himself–so was Conway, and upon my word, I’ve always expected
his ghost to walk.’
‘A very inexplicable business,’ said Mr Quin, slowly and deliberately, and he
paused with the air of an actor who has just spoken an important cue.
‘You may well say inexplicable,’ burst in Conway. ‘The thing’s a black
mystery–always will be.’
‘I wonder,’ said Mr Quin, non-committally. ‘Yes, Sir Richard, you were
saying?’
‘Astounding–that’s what it was. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Here’s a man in the prime of life, gay, light-
hearted, without a care in the world. Five or six old pals staying with him.
Top of his spirits at dinner, full of plans for the future. And from the
dinner table he goes straight upstairs to his room, takes a revolver from a
drawer and shoots himself. Why? | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Nobody ever knew. Nobody ever will know.’
‘Isn’t that rather a sweeping statement, Sir Richard?’ asked Mr Quin, smiling.
Conway stared at him.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
‘What d’you mean? I don’t understand.’
‘A problem is not necessarily unsolvable because it has remained unsolved.’
‘Oh! Come, man, if nothing came out at the time, it’s not likely to come out
now–ten years afterwards?’
Mr Quin shook his head gently.
‘I disagree with you. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
The evidence of history is against you. The contemporary
historian never writes such a true history as the historian of a later
generation. It is a question of getting the true perspective, of seeing things
in proportion. If you like to call it so, it is, like everything else, a
question of relativity.’
Alex Portal leant forward, his face twitching painfully.
‘You are right, Mr Quin,’ he cried, ‘you are right. Time does not dispose of a
question–it only presents it anew in a different guise.’
Evesham was smiling tolerantly.
‘Then you mean to say, Mr Quin, that if we were to hold, let us say, a Court
of Inquiry tonight, into the circumstances of Derek Capel’s death, we are as
likely to arrive at the truth as we should have been at the time?’
‘More likely, Mr Evesham. The personal equation has largely dropped out, and
you will remember facts as facts without seeking to put your own
interpretation upon them.’
Evesham frowned doubtfully.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
‘One must have a starting point, of course,’ said Mr Quin in his quiet level
voice. ‘A starting point is usually a theory. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
One of you must have a theory, I
am sure. How about you, Sir Richard?’
Conway frowned thoughtfully.
‘Well, of course,’ he said apologetically, ‘we thought–naturally we all
thought–that there must be a woman in it somewhere. It’s usually either that
or money, isn’t it? | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
And it certainly wasn’t money. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
No trouble of that
description. So–what else could it have been?’
Mr Satterthwaite started. He had leant forward to contribute a small remark of
his own and in the act of doing so, he had caught sight of a woman’s figure
crouched against the balustrade of the gallery above. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
She was huddled down
against it, invisible from everywhere but where he himself sat, and she was
evidently listening with strained attention to what was going on below. So
immovable was she that he hardly believed the evidence of his own eyes.
But he recognized the pattern of the dress easily enough–an old-world brocade.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
It was Eleanor Portal.
And suddenly all the events of the night seemed to fall into pattern–Mr Quin’s
arrival, no fortuitous chance, but the appearance of an actor when his cue was
given. There was a drama being played in the big hall at Royston tonight–a
drama none the less real in that one of the actors was dead. Oh! yes, Derek
Capel had a part in the play. Mr Satterthwaite was sure of that.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
And, again suddenly, a new illumination came to him. This was Mr Quin’s doing.
It was he who was staging the play–was giving the actors their cues. He was at
the heart of the mystery pulling the strings, making the puppets work. He knew
everything, even to the presence of the woman crouched against the woodwork
upstairs. Yes, he knew.
Sitting well back in his chair, secure in his role of audience, Mr
Satterthwaite watched the drama unfold before his eyes. Quietly and naturally,
Mr Quin was pulling the strings, setting his puppets in motion.
‘A woman–yes,’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘There was no mention of any woman at
dinner?’
‘Why, of course,’ cried Evesham. ‘He announced his engagement. That’s just
what made it seem so absolutely mad. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Very bucked about it he was. Said it
wasn’t to be announced just yet–but gave us the hint that he was in the
running for the Benedick stakes.’
‘Of course we all guessed who the lady was,’ said Conway. ‘Marjorie Dilke.
Nice girl.’
It seemed to be Mr Quin’s turn to speak, but he did not do so, and something
about his silence seemed oddly provocative. It was as though he challenged the
last statement. It had the effect of putting Conway in a defensive position.
‘Who else could it have been? | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Eh, Evesham?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Tom Evesham slowly. ‘What did he say exactly now?
Something about being in the running for the Benedick stakes–that he couldn’t
tell us the lady’s name till he had her permission–it wasn’t to be announced
yet. He said, I remember, that he was a damned lucky fellow. That he wanted
his two old friends to know that by that time next year he’d be a happy
married man. Of course, we assumed it was Marjorie. They were great friends
and he’d been about with her a lot.’
‘The only thing–’ began Conway and stopped.
‘What were you going to say, Dick?’
‘Well, I mean, it was odd in a way, if it were Marjorie, that the engagement
shouldn’t be announced at once. I mean, why the secrecy? Sounds more as though
it were a married woman–you know, someone whose husband had just died, or who
was divorcing him.’
‘That’s true,’ said Evesham. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
‘If that were the case, of course, the engagement
couldn’t be announced at once. And you know, thinking back about it, I don’t
believe he had been seeing much of Marjorie. All that was the year before. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
I
remember thinking things seemed to have cooled off between them.’
‘Curious,’ said Mr Quin.
‘Yes–looked almost as though someone had come between them.’
‘Another woman,’ said Conway thoughtfully.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
‘By jove,’ said Evesham. ‘You know, there was something almost indecently
hilarious about old Derek that night. He looked almost drunk with happiness.
And yet–I can’t quite explain what I mean–but he looked oddly defiant too.’
‘Like a man defying Fate,’ said Alex Portal heavily.
Was it of Derek Capel he was speaking–or was it of himself? Mr Satterthwaite,
looking at him, inclined to the latter view. Yes, that was what Alex Portal
represented–a man defying Fate.
His imagination, muddled by drink, responded suddenly to that note in the
story which recalled his own secret preoccupation.
Mr Satterthwaite looked up. She was still there. Watching, listening–still
motionless, frozen–like a dead woman.
‘Perfectly true,’ said Conway. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
‘Capel was excited–curiously so. I’d describe
him as a man who had staked heavily and won against well nigh overwhelming
odds.’
‘Getting up courage, perhaps, for what he’s made up his mind to do?’ suggested
Portal.
And as though moved by an association of ideas, he got up and helped himself
to another drink.
‘Not a bit of it,’ said Evesham sharply. ‘I’d almost swear nothing of that
kind was in his mind. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Conway’s right. A successful gambler who has brought off
a long shot and can hardly believe in his own good fortune. That was the
attitude.’
Conway gave a gesture of discouragement.
‘And yet,’ he said. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
‘Ten minutes later–’
They sat in silence. Evesham brought his hand down with a bang on the table.
‘Something must have happened in that ten minutes,’ he cried. ‘It must! | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
But
what? | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Let’s go over it carefully. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
We were all talking. In the middle of it
Capel got up suddenly and left the room–’
‘Why?’ said Mr Quin.
The interruption seemed to disconcert Evesham.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I only said: Why?’ said Mr Quin.
Evesham frowned in an effort of memory.
‘It didn’t seem vital–at the time–Oh! | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
of course–the Post. Don’t you remember
that jangling bell, and how excited we were. We’d been snowed up for three
days, remember. Biggest snowstorm for years and years. All the roads were
impassable. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
No newspapers, no letters. Capel went out to see if something had
come through at last, and got a great pile of things. Newspapers and letters.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
He opened the paper to see if there was any news, and then went upstairs with
his letters. Three minutes afterwards, we heard a shot…Inexplicable–absolutely
inexplicable.’
‘That’s not inexplicable,’ said Portal. ‘Of course the fellow got some
unexpected news in a letter. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Obvious, I should have said.’
‘Oh! Don’t think we missed anything so obvious as that. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
It was one of the
Coroner’s first questions. But Capel never opened one of his letters. The
whole pile lay unopened on his dressing-table.’
Portal looked crestfallen.
‘You’re sure he didn’t open just one of them? He might have destroyed it after
reading it?’
‘No, I’m quite positive. Of course, that would have been the natural solution.
No, every one of the letters was unopened. Nothing burnt–nothing torn up–There
was no fire in the room.’
Portal shook his head.
‘Extraordinary.’
‘It was a ghastly business altogether,’ said Evesham in a low voice. ‘Conway
and I went up when we heard the shot, and found him–It gave me a shock, I can
tell you.’
‘Nothing to be done but telephone for the police, I suppose?’ said Mr Quin.
‘Royston wasn’t on the telephone then. I had it put in when I bought the
place. No, luckily enough, the local constable happened to be in the kitchen
at the time. One of the dogs–you remember poor old Rover, Conway?–had strayed
the day before. A passing carter had found it half buried in a snowdrift and
had taken it to the police station. They recognized it as Capel’s, and a dog
he was particularly fond of, and the constable came up with it. He’d just
arrived a minute before the shot was fired. It saved us some trouble.’
‘Gad, that was a snowstorm,’ said Conway reminiscently. ‘About this time of
year, wasn’t it? | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Early January.’
‘February, I think. Let me see, we went abroad soon afterwards.’
‘I’m pretty sure it was January. My hunter Ned–you remember Ned?–lamed himself
the end of January. That was just after this business.’
‘It must have been quite the end of January then. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Funny how difficult it is to
recall dates after a lapse of years.’
‘One of the most difficult things in the world,’ said Mr Quin,
conversationally. ‘Unless you can find a landmark in some big public event–an
assassination of a crowned head, or a big murder trial.’
‘Why, of course,’ cried Conway, ‘it was just before the Appleton case.’
‘Just after, wasn’t it?’
‘No, no, don’t you remember–Capel knew the Appletons–he’d stayed with the old
man the previous Spring–just a week before he died. He was talking of him one
night–what an old curmudgeon he was, and how awful it must have been for a
young and beautiful woman like Mrs Appleton to be tied to him. There was no
suspicion then that she had done away with him.’
‘By jove, you’re right. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
I remember reading the paragraph in the paper saying
an exhumation order had been granted. It would have been that same day–I
remember only seeing it with half my mind, you know, the other half wondering
about poor old Derek lying dead upstairs.’
‘A common, but very curious phenomenon, that,’ observed Mr Quin. ‘In moments
of great stress, the mind focuses itself upon some quite unimportant matter
which is remembered long afterwards with the utmost fidelity, driven in, as it
were, by the mental stress of the moment. It may be some quite irrelevant
detail, like the pattern of a wallpaper, but it will never be forgotten.’
‘Rather extraordinary, your saying that, Mr Quin,’ said Conway. ‘Just as you
were speaking, I suddenly felt myself back in Derek Capel’s room–with Derek
lying dead on the floor–I saw as plainly as possible the big tree outside the
window, and the shadow it threw upon the snow outside. Yes, the moonlight, the
snow, and the shadow of the tree–I can see them again this minute. By Gad, I
believe I could draw them, and yet I never realized I was looking at them at
the time.’
‘His room was the big one over the porch, was it not?’ asked Mr Quin.
‘Yes, and the tree was the big beech, just at the angle of the drive.’
Mr Quin nodded, as though satisfied. Mr Satterthwaite was curiously thrilled.
He was convinced that every word, every inflection of Mr Quin’s voice, was
pregnant with purpose. He was driving at something–exactly what Mr
Satterthwaite did not know, but he was quite convinced as to whose was the
master hand.
There was a momentary pause, and then Evesham reverted to the preceding topic.
‘That Appleton case, I remember it very well now. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
What a sensation it made.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
She got off, didn’t she? Pretty woman, very fair–remarkably fair.’
Almost against his will, Mr Satterthwaite’s eyes sought the kneeling figure up
above. Was it his fancy, or did he see it shrink a little as though at a blow.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Did he see a hand slide upwards to the table cloth–and then pause.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
There was a crash of falling glass. Alex Portal, helping himself to whisky,
had let the decanter slip.
‘I say–sir, damn’ sorry. Can’t think what came over me.’
Evesham cut short his apologies.
‘Quite all right. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Quite all right, my dear fellow. Curious–That smash reminded
me. That’s what she did, didn’t she? Mrs Appleton? Smashed the port decanter?’
‘Yes. Old Appleton had his glass of port–only one–each night. The day after
his death, one of the servants saw her take the decanter out and smash it
deliberately. That set them talking, of course. They all knew she had been
perfectly wretched with him. Rumour grew and grew, and in the end, months
later, some of his relatives applied for an exhumation order. And sure enough,
the old fellow had been poisoned. Arsenic, wasn’t it?’
‘No–strychnine, I think. It doesn’t much matter. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
Well, of course, there it
was. Only one person was likely to have done it. Mrs Appleton stood her trial.
She was acquitted more through lack of evidence against her than from any
overwhelming proof of innocence. In other words, she was lucky. Yes, I don’t
suppose there’s much doubt she did it right enough. What happened to her
afterwards?’
‘Went out to Canada, I believe. Or was it Australia? | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
She had an uncle or
something of the sort out there who offered her a home. Best thing she could
do under the circumstances.’
Mr Satterthwaite was fascinated by Alex Portal’s right hand as it clasped his
glass. How tightly he was gripping it.
‘You’ll smash that in a minute or two, if you’re not careful,’ thought Mr
Satterthwaite. ‘Dear me, how interesting all this is.’
Evesham rose and helped himself to a drink.
‘Well, we’re not much nearer to knowing why poor Derek Capel shot himself,’ he
remarked. ‘The Court of Inquiry hasn’t been a great success, has it, Mr Quin?’
Mr Quin laughed…
It was a strange laugh, mocking–yet sad. It made everyone jump.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
‘I beg your pardon,’ he said. ‘You are still living in the past, Mr Evesham.
You are still hampered by your preconceived notion. But I–the man from
outside, the stranger passing by, see only–facts!’
‘Facts?’
‘Yes–facts.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Evesham.
‘I see a clear sequence of facts, outlined by yourselves but of which you have
not seen the significance. Let us go back ten years and look at what we
see–untrammelled by ideas or sentiment.’
Mr Quin had risen. He looked very tall. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
The fire leaped fitfully behind him.
He spoke in a low compelling voice.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
‘You are at dinner. Derek Capel announces his engagement. You think then it
was to Marjorie Dilke. You are not so sure now. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
He has the restlessly excited
manner of a man who has successfully defied Fate–who, in your own words, has
pulled off a big coup against overwhelming odds. Then comes the clanging of
the bell. He goes out to get the long overdue mail. He doesn’t open his
letters, but you mention yourselves that he opened the paper to glance at the
news. It is ten years ago–so we cannot know what the news was that day–a far-
off earthquake, a near at hand political crisis? The only thing we do know
about the contents of that paper is that it contained one small paragraph–a
paragraph stating that the Home Office had given permission to exhume the body
of Mr Appleton three days ago.’
‘What?’
Mr Quin went on.
‘Derek Capel goes up to his room, and there he sees something out of the
window. Sir Richard Conway has told us that the curtain was not drawn across
it and further that it gave on to the drive. What did he see? | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
What could he
have seen that forced him to take his life?’
‘What do you mean? What did he see?’
‘I think,’ said Mr Quin, ‘that he saw a policeman. A policeman who had come
about a dog–But Derek Capel didn’t know that–he just saw–a policeman.’
There was a long silence–as though it took some time to drive the inference
home.
‘My God!’ whispered Evesham at last. ‘You can’t mean that? Appleton? But he
wasn’t there at the time Appleton died. The old man was alone with his wife–’
‘But he may have been there a week earlier. Strychnine is not very soluble
unless it is in the form of hydrochloride. The greater part of it, put into
the port, would be taken in the last glass, perhaps a week after he left.’
Portal sprung forward. His voice was hoarse, his eyes bloodshot.
‘Why did she break the decanter?’ he cried. ‘Why did she break the decanter?
Tell me that!’
For the first time that evening, Mr Quin addressed himself to Mr
Satterthwaite.
‘You have a wide experience of life, Mr Satterthwaite. Perhaps you can tell us
that.’
Mr Satterthwaite’s voice trembled a little. His cue had come at last. He was
to speak some of the most important lines in the play. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
He was an actor now–not
a looker-on.
‘As I see it,’ he murmured modestly, ‘she–cared for Derek Capel. She was, I
think, a good woman–and she had sent him away. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
When her husband–died, she
suspected the truth. And so, to save the man she loved, she tried to destroy
the evidence against him. Later, I think, he persuaded her that her suspicions
were unfounded, and she consented to marry him. But even then, she hung
back–women, I fancy, have a lot of instinct.’
Mr Sattherthwaite had spoken his part.
Suddenly a long trembling sigh filled the air.
‘My God!’ cried Evesham, starting, ‘what was that?’
Mr Satterthwaite could have told him that it was Eleanor Portal in the gallery
above, but he was too artistic to spoil a good effect.
Mr Quin was smiling.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
‘My car will be ready by now. Thank you for your hospitality, Mr Evesham. I
have, I hope, done something for my friend.’
They stared at him in blank amazement.
‘That aspect of the matter has not struck you? He loved this woman, you know.
Loved her enough to commit murder for her sake. When retribution overtook him,
as he mistakenly thought, he took his own life. But unwittingly, he left her
to face the music.’
‘She was acquitted,’ muttered Evesham.
‘Because the case against her could not be proved. I fancy–it may be only a
fancy–that she is still–facing the music.’
Portal had sunk into a chair, his face buried in his hands.
Quin turned to Satterthwaite.
‘Goodbye, Mr Satterthwaite. You are interested in the drama, are you not?’
Mr Satterthwaite nodded–surprised.
‘I must recommend the Harlequinade to your attention. | the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
It is dying out
nowadays–but it repays attention, I assure you. Its symbolism is a little
difficult to follow–but the immortals are always immortal, you know. I wish
you all goodnight.’
They saw him stride out into the dark. As before, the coloured glass gave the
effect of motley…
Mr Satterthwaite went upstairs. He went to draw down his window, for the air
was cold. The figure of Mr Quin moved down the drive, and from a side door
came a woman’s figure, running. For a moment they spoke together, then she
retraced her steps to the house. She passed just below the window, and Mr
Satterthwaite was struck anew by the vitality of her face. She moved now like
a woman in a happy dream.
‘Eleanor!’
Alex Portal had joined her.
‘Eleanor, forgive me–forgive me–You told me the truth, but God forgive me–I
did not quite believe…’
Mr Satterthwaite was intensely interested in other people’s affairs, but he
was also a gentleman. It was borne in upon him that he must shut the window.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |
He did so.
| the mysterious mr quin - agatha christie.epub |