Unexpected Guest - Agatha Christie [33]
‘I’m sorry, but I can’t feel the same,’ Farrar admitted desperately. ‘After what’s happened–I just can’t feel the same.’
‘I can,’ Laura assured him. ‘At least, I think I can. No matter what you’d done, Julian, I’d always feel the same.’
‘Never mind our feelings for the moment,’ said Farrar. ‘We’ve got to get down to facts.’
Laura looked at him. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I–I told Starkwedder that I’d–you know, that I’d done it.’
Farrar looked at her incredulously. ‘You told Starkwedder that?’
‘Yes.’
‘And he agreed to help you? He–a stranger? The man must be mad!’
Stung, Laura retorted, ‘I think perhaps he is a little mad. But he was very comforting.’
‘So! No man can resist you,’ Farrar exclaimed angrily. ‘Is that it?’ He took a step away from her, and then turned to face her again. ‘All the same, Laura, murder–’ His voice died away and he shook his head.
‘I shall try never to think of it,’ Laura answered. ‘And it wasn’t premeditated, Julian. It was just an impulse.’ She spoke almost pleadingly.
‘There’s no need to go back over it all,’ Farrar told her. ‘We’ve got to think now what we’re going to do.’
‘I know,’ she replied. ‘There are the fingerprints and your lighter.’
‘Yes,’ he recalled. ‘I must have dropped it as I leaned over his body.’
‘Starkwedder knows it’s yours,’ Laura told him. ‘But he can’t do anything about it. He’s committed himself. He can’t change his story now.’
Julian Farrar looked at her for a moment. When he spoke, his voice had a slightly heroic tone. ‘If it comes to it, Laura, I’ll take the blame,’ he assured her.
‘No, I don’t want you to,’ Laura cried. She clasped his arm, and then released him quickly with a nervous glance towards the house. ‘I don’t want you to!’ she repeated urgently.
‘You mustn’t think that I don’t understand–how it happened,’ said Farrar, speaking with an effort. ‘You picked up the gun, shot him without really knowing what you were doing, and–’
Laura gave a gasp of surprise. ‘What? Are you trying to make me say I killed him?’ she cried.
‘Not at all,’ Farrar responded. He sounded embarrassed. ‘I’ve told you I’m perfectly prepared to take the blame if it comes to it.’
Laura shook her head in confusion. ‘But–you said–’ she began. ‘You said you knew how it happened.’
He looked at her steadily. ‘Listen, Laura,’ he said. ‘I don’t think you did it deliberately. I don’t think it was premeditated. I know it wasn’t. I know quite well that you only shot him because–’
Laura interrupted quickly. ‘I shot him?’ she gasped. ‘Are you really pretending to believe that I shot him?’
Turning his back on her, Farrar exclamed angrily, ‘For God’s sake, this is impossible if we’re not going to be honest with each other!’
Laura sounded desperate as, trying not to shout, she announced clearly and emphatically, ‘I didn’t shoot him, and you know it!’
There was a pause. Julian Farrar slowly turned to face her. ‘Then who did?’ he asked. Suddenly realizing, he added, ‘Laura! Are you trying to say that I shot him?’
They stood facing each other, neither of them speaking for a moment. Then Laura said, ‘I heard the shot, Julian.’ She took a deep breath before continuing. ‘I heard the shot, and your footsteps on the path going away. I came down, and there he was–dead.’
After a pause Farrar said quietly, ‘Laura, I didn’t shoot him.’ He gazed up at the sky as though seeking help or inspiration, and then looked at her intently. ‘I came over here to see Richard,’ he explained, ‘to tell him that after the election we’d got to come to some arrangement about a divorce. I heard a shot just before I got here. I just thought it was Richard up to his tricks as usual. I came in here, and there he was. Dead. He was still warm.’
Laura was now very perplexed. ‘Warm?’ she echoed.
‘He hadn’t been dead more than a minute or two,’ said Farrar. ‘Of course I believed you’d shot him. Who else could have shot him?’
‘I don’t understand,’ Laura murmured.
‘I suppose–I suppose it could have been suicide,’ Farrar began, but Laura interrupted him. ‘No, it couldn