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Peril at End House - Agatha Christie [44]

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kill his cousin rather than let her become the wife of another man?’

‘It sounds very melodramatic,’ I said, doubtfully.

‘It sounds, you would say, un-English. I agree. But even the English have emotions. And a type such as Charles Vyse, is the most likely to have them. He is a repressed young man. One who does not show his feelings easily. Such often have the most violent feelings. I would never suspect the Commander Challenger of murder for emotional reasons. No, no, he is not the type. But with Charles Vyse—yes, it is possible. But it does not entirely satisfy me.

‘Another motive for crime—Jealousy. I separate it from the last, because jealousy may not, necessarily, be a sexual emotion. There is envy—envy of possession—of supremacy. Such a jealousy as drove the Iago of your great Shakespeare to one of the cleverest crimes (speaking from the professional point of view) that has ever been committed.’

‘Why was it so clever?’ I asked, momentarily diverted.

‘Parbleu—because he got others to execute it. Imagine a criminal nowadays on whom one was unable to put the handcuffs because he had never done anything himself. But this is not the subject we were discussing. Can jealousy, of any kind, be responsible for this crime? Who has reason to envy Mademoiselle? Another woman? There is only Madame Rice, and as far as we can see, there was no rivalry between the two women. But again, that is only “as far as we can see”. There may be something there.

‘Lastly—Fear. Does Mademoiselle Nick, by any chance, hold somebody’s secret in her power? Does she know something which, if it were known, might ruin another life? If so, I think we can say very definitely, that she herself is unaware of it. But that might be, you know. That might be. And if so, it makes it very difficult. Because, whilst she holds the clue in her hands, she holds it unconsciously and will be quite unable to tell us what it is.’

‘You really think that is possible?’

‘It is a hypothesis. I am driven to it by the difficulty of finding a reasonable theory elsewhere. When you have eliminated other possibilities you turn to the one that is left and say—since the other is not—this must be so…’

He was silent a long time.

At last, rousing himself from his absorption, he drew a sheet of paper towards him and began to write.

‘What are you writing?’ I asked, curiously.

‘Mon ami, I am composing a list. It is a list of people surrounding Mademoiselle Buckley. Within that list, if my theory is correct, there must be the name of the murderer.’

He continued to write for perhaps twenty minutes—then shoved the sheets of paper across to me.

‘Voilà, monami. See what you make of it.’

The following is a reproduction of the paper:

A. Ellen.

B. Her gardener husband.

C. Their child.

D. Mr Croft.

E. Mrs Croft.

F. Mrs Rice.

G. Mr Lazarus.

H. Commander Challenger.

I. Mr Charles Vyse.

J.

Remarks:

Ellen.—Suspicious circumstances. Her attitude and words on hearing of the crime. Best opportunity of anyone to have staged accidents and to have known of pistol, but unlikely to have tampered with car, and general mentality of crime seems above her level.

Motive.—None—unless hate arising out of some incident unknown.

Note.—Further inquiries as to her antecedents and general relations with N. B.

Her Husband.—Same as above. More likely to have tampered with car.

Note.—Should be interviewed.

Child.—Can be ruled out.

Note.—Should be interviewed. Might give valuable information.

Mr Croft.—Only suspicious circumstance the fact that we met him mounting the stair to bedroom floor. Had ready explanation which may be true. But it may not!

Nothing known of antecedents.

Motive.—None.

Mrs Croft.—Suspicious circumstances.—None.

Motive.—None.

Mrs Rice.—Suspicious circumstances. Full opportunity. Asked N. B. to fetch wrap. Has deliberately tried to create impression that N. B. is a liar and her account of ‘accidents’ not to be relied on. Was not at Tavistock when accidents occurred. Where was she?

Motive.—Gain? Very slight. Jealousy? Possible, but nothing

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