Agatha Christie - The Murder Of Roger Ackroyd - Chapter 19

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In this track I will continue reading The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie.

This will be chapter 19.

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Take a few moments to clear your mind and allow yourself to listen to these words and help you become calm.

Let's continue with chapter 19,

Flora Ackroyd.

As I was returning from my round the following morning,

I was hailed by Inspector Raglan.

I pulled up,

The inspector mounted on the step.

Good morning,

Dr.

Shepherd,

He said.

Well,

That alibi is all right enough.

Charles Kent?

Charles Kent.

The barmaid at the Dog and Whistle,

Sally Jones,

She remembers him perfectly,

Picked out his photograph among five others.

It was just a quarter to ten when he came into the bar,

And the Dog and Whistle is well over a mile from Fernley Park.

The girl mentions that he had a lot of money on him.

She saw him take a handful of notes out of his pocket.

Rather surprised her,

It did,

Seeing the class of fellow he was.

With a pair of boots clean dropping off him,

That's where that forty pounds went right enough.

The man still refuses to give an account of his visit to Fernley?

Obstinate as a mule he is.

I had a chat with Hayes at Liverpool over the wire this morning.

Hercule Puro says he knows the reason the man went there last night,

I observed.

Does he?

Cried the inspector eagerly.

Yes,

I said maliciously.

He says he went there because he was born in Kent.

I felt a distinct pleasure in passing on my own discomfiture.

Raglan stared at me for a moment or two,

Uncomprehendingly.

Then a grin overspread his weaselly countenance,

And he tapped his forehead significantly.

A bit gone here,

He said.

I've thought so for some time,

Poor old chap.

That's why he had to give up and come down here.

In the family,

Very likely.

He's got a nephew who's quite off his crumpet.

Puro has?

I said,

Very surprised.

Yes,

Hasn't he ever mentioned him to you?

Quite docile,

I believe,

And all that,

But mad as a hatter.

Poor lad.

Who told you that?

Again,

A grin showed itself on Inspector Raglan's face.

Your sister,

Miss Shepherd.

She told me all about it.

Really,

Caroline is amazing.

She never rests until she knows the last details of everybody's family secrets.

Unfortunately,

I have never been able to instill into her the decency of keeping them to herself.

Jump in,

Inspector,

I said,

Opening the door of the car.

We'll go up to the Larches together and acquaint our Belgian friend with the latest news.

Might as well,

I suppose.

After all,

Even if he is a bit balmy,

It was a useful tip he gave me about those fingerprints.

He's got a bee in his bonnet about the man,

Kent.

But who knows,

There may be something useful behind it.

Puro received us with his usual smiling courtesy.

He listened to the information we had brought him,

Nodding his head now and then.

Seems quite okay,

Doesn't it?

Said the Inspector,

Rather gloomily.

A chap can't be murdering someone in one place when he's drinking in the bar in another place a mile away.

Are you going to release him?

Don't see what else we can do.

We can't very well hold him for obtaining money on false pretenses.

Can't prove a ruddy thing.

The Inspector tossed a match into the grate in a disgruntled fashion.

Puro retrieved it and put it neatly in a little receptacle designed for the purpose.

His action was purely mechanical.

I could see that his thoughts were on something very different.

If I were you,

He said at last,

I should not release the man,

Charles Kent,

Yet.

What do you mean?

Raglan stared at him.

What I say,

You should not release him yet.

You don't think he could have had anything to do with the murder,

Do you?

I think probably not,

But one cannot be certain yet.

But haven't I just told you?

Puro raised a hand protestingly.

Masui,

Masui,

I heard.

I am not deaf nor stupid,

Thank the good God.

But see you,

You approach the matter from the wrong,

The wrong premises.

Is that the word?

The Inspector stared at him heavily.

I don't see how you can make that out.

Look here,

We know Mr.

Ackroyd was alive at a quarter to ten.

You admit that,

Don't you?

Puro looked at him for a moment,

Then shook his head with a quick smile.

I admit nothing that is not proved.

Well,

We've got proof enough of that.

We've got Miss Flora Ackroyd's evidence.

That she said goodnight to her uncle.

But me,

I do not always believe what a young lady tells me.

No,

Not even when she is charming and beautiful.

But hang on man,

Parker saw her coming out of the door.

No.

Puro's voice rang out with sudden sharpness.

That is just what he did not see.

I satisfied myself of that by a little experiment the other day.

You remember,

Doctor?

Parker saw her outside the door with her hand on the handle.

He did not see her come out of the room.

But where else could she have been?

Perhaps on the stairs.

The stairs?

That is my little idea,

Yes.

But those stairs only lead to Mr.

Ackroyd's bedroom.

Precisely.

And still the inspector stared.

You think she'd been up to her uncle's bedroom?

Well,

Why not?

Why should she lie about it?

Ah,

That is the question.

It depends on what she was doing there,

Does it not?

You mean the money?

Hang it all.

You don't suggest that it was Miss Ackroyd who took that forty pounds?

I suggest nothing,

Said Puro.

But I will remind you of this.

Life was not very easy for that mother and daughter.

There were bills.

There was constant trouble over small sums of money.

Roger Ackroyd was a peculiar man over money matters.

The girl might be at her wit's end for a comparatively small sum.

Figure to yourself then what happens.

She has taken the money.

She descends the little staircase.

When she is halfway down,

She hears the chink of glass from the hall.

She has no doubt of what it is.

Parker coming to the study.

At all costs,

She must not be found on the stairs.

Parker will not forget it.

He will think it odd.

If the money is missed,

Parker is sure to remember having seen her come down those stairs.

She has just time to rush down to the study door with her hand on the handle to show that she has just come down when Parker appears in the doorway.

She says the first thing that comes into her head.

A repetition of Roger Ackroyd's orders earlier in the evening.

And then goes upstairs to her room.

Yes,

But later.

Persisted the inspector.

She must have realized the vital importance of speaking the truth.

Why the whole case hinges on it.

Afterwards,

Said Pierrot dryly.

It was a little difficult for Mademoiselle Flora.

She is told simply that the police are here and that there has been a robbery.

Naturally,

She jumps to the conclusion that the theft of the money has been discovered.

Her one idea is to stick to her story.

When she learns that her uncle is dead,

She is panic stricken.

Young women do not faint nowadays,

Monture,

Without considerable provocation.

Eh,

Pien?

There it is.

She is bound to stick to her story or else confess everything.

And a young and pretty girl does not like to admit that she is a thief.

Especially before those who esteem.

She is anxious to retain.

Raglan brought his fist down with a thump on the table.

I'll not believe it,

He said.

It's,

It's not credible.

And you,

You've known this all along?

The possibility has been in my mind from the first,

Admitted Pierrot.

I was always convinced that Mademoiselle Flora was hiding something from us.

To satisfy myself,

I made the little experiment I told you of.

Dr.

Shepard accompanied me.

A test for Parker,

You said it was?

I remarked bitterly.

Mont-aimé,

Said Pierrot apologetically.

As I told you at the time,

One must say something.

The inspector rose.

There's only one thing for it,

He declared.

We must tackle the young lady right now.

You'll come up to Fernley with me,

Eh,

Pierrot?

Certainly.

Dr.

Shepard will drive us up in his car.

I acquiesced willingly.

On inquiry for Miss Ackroyd,

We were shown into the billiard room.

Flora and Major Hector Blunt were sitting on the long window seat.

Good morning,

Miss Ackroyd,

Said the inspector.

Can we have a word or two alone with you?

Blunt got up at once and moved to the door.

What is it?

Asked Flora nervously.

Don't go,

Major Blunt.

He can stay,

Can't he?

She asked,

Turning to the inspector.

That's as you like,

Said the inspector dryly.

There's a question or two in my duty to put to you,

Miss,

But I would prefer to do so privately.

I dare say you'd prefer it also.

Flora looked keenly at him.

I saw her face grow wider.

Then she turned and spoke to Blunt.

I want you to stay.

Please?

Yes,

I mean it.

Whatever the inspector has to say to me,

I'd rather you hear it.

Raglan shrugged his shoulders.

Well,

If you will have it so,

That's all there is to it.

Now,

Miss Ackroyd,

Impuro here has made a certain suggestion to me.

He suggests that you weren't in the study at all last Friday night,

That you never saw Mr.

Ackroyd to say goodnight to him,

That instead of being in the study,

You were on the stairs leading down from your uncle's bedroom when you heard Parker coming across the hall.

Flora's gaze shifted to Impuro.

He nodded back at her.

Mademoiselle,

The other day,

When we sat round the table,

I implored you to be frank with me.

What one does not tell to Papa Impuro,

He finds out.

It was that,

Was it not?

See,

I will make it easy for you.

You took the money,

Did you not?

The money?

Said Blunt sharply.

There was a silence which lasted for at least a minute.

Then,

Flora drew herself up and spoke.

Impuro is right.

I took the money.

I stole.

I am a thief.

Yes,

A common vulgar little thief.

Now you know.

I am glad it has come out.

It has been a nightmare these last few days.

She sat down suddenly and buried her face in her hands.

She spoke huskily through her fingers.

You don't know what my life has been since I came here.

Wanting things.

Scheming for them.

Lying.

Cheating.

Running up bills.

Promising to pay.

Oh,

I hate myself when I think of it all.

That's what brought us together.

Ralph and I.

We were both weak.

I understood him and I was sorry because I'm the same underneath.

We're not strong enough to stand alone.

Either of us.

We're weak,

Miserable,

Despicable things.

She looked at Blunt and suddenly stamped her foot.

Why do you look at me like that?

As though you couldn't believe.

I may be a thief but at any rate I'm real now.

I'm not lying anymore.

I'm not pretending to be the kind of girl you like.

Young and innocent and simple.

I don't care if you never want to see me again.

I hate myself.

Despise myself.

But you've got to believe one thing.

If speaking the truth would have made things better for Ralph,

I would have spoken out.

But I've seen all along it wouldn't be better for Ralph.

It makes the case against him blacker than ever.

I was not doing him any harm by sticking to my lie.

Ralph,

Said Blunt.

I see.

Always Ralph.

You don't understand,

Said Flora hopelessly.

You never will.

She turned to the inspector.

I admit everything.

I was at my wits end for money.

I never saw my uncle that evening after he left the dinner table.

As to money,

You can take what steps you please.

Nothing could be worse than it is now.

Suddenly she broke down again,

Hit her face in her hands and rushed from the room.

Well,

Said the inspector in a flat tone.

That's that.

He seemed rather at a loss what to do next.

Blunt came forward.

Inspector Raglan,

He said quietly.

That money was given to me by Mr.

Aykroyd for a special purpose.

Miss Aykroyd never touched it.

When she says she did,

She's lying with the idea of shielding Captain Payton.

The truth is,

As I said,

I am prepared to go to the witness box and swear to it.

He made a kind of jerky bow,

Then turned abruptly.

He left the room.

Pierrot was after him in a flash.

He caught the other up in the hall.

Monsieur,

A moment,

I beg of you,

If you would be so good.

Well,

Sir,

Blunt was obviously impatient.

He stood frowning down on Pierrot.

It is this,

Said Pierrot rapidly.

I am not deceived by your little fantasy.

No,

Indeed,

It was truly Miss Flora who took the money.

All the same,

It is well imagined what you say.

It pleases me.

It is very good what you have done there.

You are a man quick to think and to act.

I am not in the least anxious for your opinion,

Thank you,

Said Blunt coldly.

He made once more as though to pass on,

But Pierrot,

Not at all offended,

Laid a detaining hand on his arm.

Ah,

But you are to listen to me.

I have more to say.

The other day I spoke of concealments.

Very well,

All along have I seen what you were concealing.

Mademoiselle Flora,

You love her with all your heart.

From your first moment you saw her,

Is it not so?

Oh,

Let us not mind saying these things.

Why must one in England think it is necessary to mention love as though it were some disgraceful secret?

You love Mademoiselle Flora.

You seek to conceal that fact from all the world.

That is very good.

That is as it should be.

But take the advice from Hercule Pierrot.

Do not conceal it from Mademoiselle herself.

Blunt had shown several signs of restlessness whilst Pierrot was speaking,

But the closing words seemed to rivet his attention.

What do you mean by that?

He said sharply.

You think that she loves the captain,

Ralph Payton,

But I,

Hercule Pierrot,

Tell you that that is not so.

Mademoiselle Flora accepted Captain Payton to please her uncle and because she saw in the marriage a way of escape from her life here,

Which was becoming frankly unsupportable to her.

She liked him and there was much sympathy and understanding between them.

But love?

No,

It is not Captain Payton Mademoiselle Flora loves.

What the devil do you mean?

Asked Blunt.

I saw the dark flush under his tan.

You have been blind,

Monsieur.

Blind?

She is loyal,

The little one.

Ralph Payton is under a cloud.

She is bound in honor to stick by him.

I felt it was time I put in a word to help on the good work.

My sister told me the other night,

I said encouragingly,

That Flora had never cared a penny piece for Ralph Payton and never would.

My sister is always right about these things.

Blunt ignored my well-meant efforts.

He spoke to Pierrot.

Do you really think?

He began and stopped.

He is one of those inarticulate men who find it hard to put things into words.

Pierrot knows no such disability.

If you doubt me,

Ask her yourself,

Monsieur.

But perhaps you can no longer care to.

The affair of the money.

Blunt gave a sound like an angry laugh.

Think I'll hold it against her?

Roger was always a queer chap about money,

But got in a mess and didn't dare tell him.

Poor kid.

Poor lonely kid.

Pierrot looked thoughtfully at the side door.

Mademoiselle went into the garden,

I think.

He murmured.

I've been every kind of a fool.

Said Blunt abruptly.

Rum conversation we've been having.

Like one of those Danish plays.

But you're a sound fellow,

M.

Pierrot.

Thank you.

He took Pierrot's hand and gave it a grip,

Which caused the other to wince in anguish.

Then he strode to the side of the door and passed out into the garden.

Not every kind of fool,

Murmured Pierrot.

Tenderly nursing the injured member.

Only one kind.

The fool in love.

That concludes chapter 19,

Flora Ackroyd.

From the story,

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie.

Thank you for listening.

I hope you have enjoyed this story.

And hopefully become relaxed and possibly fallen asleep.