Hercule Poirot: The Complete Short Stories. Агата Кристи

he now? I’m sorry to hear that. Rather the case of the cart without the horse, you being here without him, isn’t it?’

      And on his rather ill-timed jest I went on to the house. I rang the bell, as Japp had closed the door behind him. After some moments it was opened to me by a middle-aged woman in black.

      ‘Mr Havering will be here in a moment,’ I explained. ‘He has been detained by the inspector. I have come down with him from London to look into the case. Perhaps you can tell me briefly what occurred last night.’

      ‘Come inside, sir.’ She closed the door behind me, and we stood in the dimly-lighted hall. ‘It was after dinner last night, sir, that the man came. He asked to see Mr Pace, sir, and, seeing that he spoke the same way, I thought it was an American gentleman friend of Mr Pace’s and I showed him into the gun-room, and then went to tell Mr Pace. He wouldn’t give any name, which, of course, was a bit odd, now I come to think of it. I told Mr Pace, and he seemed puzzled like, but he said to the mistress: “Excuse me, Zoe, while I see what this fellow wants.” He went off to the gun-room, and I went back to the kitchen, but after a while I heard loud voices, as if they were quarrelling, and I came out into the hall. At the same time, the mistress she comes out too, and just then there was a shot and then a dreadful silence. We both ran to the gun-room door, but it was locked and we had to go round to the window. It was open, and there inside was Mr Pace, all shot and bleeding.’

      ‘What became of the man?’

      ‘He must have got away through the window, sir, before we got to it.’

      ‘And then?’

      ‘Mrs Havering sent me to fetch the police. Five miles to walk it was. They came back with me, and the constable he stayed all night, and this morning the police gentleman from London arrived.’

      ‘What was this man like who called to see Mr Pace?’

      The housekeeper reflected.

      ‘He had a black beard, sir, and was about middle-aged, and had on a light overcoat. Beyond the fact that he spoke like an American I didn’t notice much about him.’

      ‘I see. Now I wonder if I can see Mrs Havering?’

      ‘She’s upstairs, sir. Shall I tell her?’

      ‘If you please. Tell her that Mr Havering is outside with Inspector Japp, and that the gentleman he has brought back with him from London is anxious to speak to her as soon as possible.’

      ‘Very good, sir.’

      I was in a fever of impatience to get all the facts. Japp had two or three hours’ start on me, and his anxiety to be gone made me keen to be close at his heels.

      Mrs Havering did not keep me waiting long. In a few minutes I heard a light step descending the stairs, and looked up to see a very handsome young woman coming towards me. She wore a flame-coloured jumper, that set off the slender boyishness of her figure. On her dark head was a little hat of flame-coloured leather. Even the present tragedy could not dim the vitality of her personality.

      I introduced myself, and she nodded in quick comprehension.

      ‘Of course I have often heard of you and your colleague, Monsieur Poirot. You have done some wonderful things together, haven’t you? It was very clever of my husband to get you so promptly. Now will you ask me questions? That is the easiest way, isn’t it, of getting to know all you want to about this dreadful affair?’

      ‘Thank you, Mrs Havering. Now what time was it that this man arrived?’

      ‘It must have been just before nine o’clock. We had finished dinner, and were sitting over our coffee and cigarettes.’

      ‘Your husband had already left for London?’

      ‘Yes, he went up by the 6.15.’

      ‘Did he go by car to the station, or did he walk?’

      ‘Our own car isn’t down here. One came out from the garage in Elmer’s Dale to fetch him in time for the train.’

      ‘Was Mr Pace quite his usual self?’

      ‘Absolutely. Most normal in every way.’

      ‘Now, can you describe this visitor at all?’

      ‘I’m afraid not. I didn’t see him. Mrs Middleton showed him straight into the gun-room and then came to tell my uncle.’

      ‘What did your uncle say?’

      ‘He seemed rather annoyed, but went off at once. It was about five minutes later that I heard the sound of raised voices. I ran out into the hall and almost collided with Mrs Middleton. Then we heard the shot. The gun-room door was locked on the inside, and we had to go right round the house to the window. Of course that took some time, and the murderer had been able to get well away. My poor uncle’ – her voice faltered – ‘had been shot through the head. I saw at once that he was dead. I sent Mrs Middleton for the police, I was careful to touch nothing in the room but to leave it exactly as I found it.’

      I nodded approval.

      ‘Now, as to the weapon?’

      ‘Well, I can make a guess at it, Captain Hastings. A pair of revolvers of my husband’s were mounted upon the wall. One of them is missing. I pointed this out to the police, and they took the other one away with them. When they have extracted the bullet, I suppose they will know for certain.’

      ‘May I go to the gun-room?’

      ‘Certainly. The police have finished with it. But the body has been removed.’

      She accompanied me to the scene of the crime. At that moment Havering entered the hall, and with a quick apology his wife ran to him. I was left to undertake my investigations alone.

      I may as well confess at once that they were rather disappointing. In detective novels clues abound, but here I could find nothing that struck me as out of the ordinary except a large blood-stain on the carpet where I judged the dead man had fallen. I examined everything with painstaking care and took a couple of pictures of the room with my little camera which I had brought with me. I also examined the ground outside the window, but it appeared to have been so heavily trampled underfoot that I judged it was useless to waste time over it. No, I had seen all that Hunter’s Lodge had to show me. I must go back to Elmer’s Dale and get into touch with Japp. Accordingly I took leave of the Haverings, and was driven off in the car that had brought us from the station.

      I found Japp at the Matlock Arms and he took me forthwith to see the body. Harrington Pace was a small, spare, clean-shaven man, typically American in appearance. He had been shot through the back of the head, and the revolver had been discharged at close quarters.

      ‘Turned away for a moment,’ remarked Japp, ‘and the other fellow snatched up a revolver and shot him. The one Mrs Havering handed over to us was fully loaded and I suppose the other one was also. Curious what darn fool things people do. Fancy keeping two loaded revolvers hanging up on your wall.’

      ‘What do you think of the case?’ I asked, as we left the gruesome chamber behind us.

      ‘Well, I’d got my eye on Havering to begin with. Oh, yes!’ – noting my exclamation of astonishment. ‘Havering has one or two shady incidents in his past. When he was a boy at Oxford there was some funny business about the signature on one of his father’s cheques. All hushed up of course. Then, he’s pretty heavily in debt now, and they’re the kind of debts he wouldn’t like to go to his uncle about, whereas you may be sure the uncle’s will would be in his favour. Yes, I’d got my eye on him, and that’s why I wanted to speak to him before he saw his wife, but their statements dovetail all right, and I’ve been to the station and there’s no doubt whatever that he left by the 6.15. That gets up to London about 10.30. He went straight to his club, he says, and if that’s confirmed all right – why, he couldn’t have been shooting his uncle here at nine o’clock in a black beard!’

      ‘Ah, yes, I was going to ask you what you thought