Agatha Christie - The Murder Of Roger Ackroyd - Chapter 23

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

This will be chapter 23.

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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 23,

Piero's Little Reunion.

And now,

Said Caroline,

Rising,

That child is coming upstairs to lie down.

Don't you worry,

My dear,

Impiero will do everything he can for you.

Be sure of that.

I ought to go back to Fernley,

Said Ursula,

Uncertainly.

But Caroline silenced her protest with a firm hand.

Nonsense,

You're in my hands for the time being.

You'll stay here for the present,

Anyway,

Eh,

Impiero?

It will be the best plan,

Agreed the little Belgian.

This evening I shall want Mademoiselle,

I beg her pardon,

Madame,

To attend my little reunion,

Nine o'clock at my house.

It is most necessary that she should be there.

Caroline nodded and went with Ursula out of the room.

The door shut behind them.

Piero dropped down into a chair.

So far,

So good,

He said.

Things are straightening themselves out.

They're getting to look blacker and blacker against Ralph Payton,

I observed gloomily.

Piero nodded.

Yes,

That is so,

But it was to be expected,

Was it not?

I looked at him,

Slightly puzzled by the remark.

He was leaning back in the chair,

His eyes half closed,

The tips of his fingers just touching each other.

Suddenly he sighed and shook his head.

What is it?

I asked.

It is that there are moments when a great longing for my friend Hastings comes over me.

That is the friend of whom I spoke to you,

The one who resides now in the Argentine.

Always,

When I have had a big case,

He has been by my side,

And he has helped me.

Yes,

Often he has helped me,

For he had a knack,

That one,

Of stumbling over the truth unawares,

Without noticing it himself.

Bien entendu.

At times he has said something particularly foolish,

And behold that foolish remark has revealed the truth to me.

And then,

Too,

It was his practice to keep a written record of the cases that proved interesting.

I gave a slight embarrassed cough.

As far as that goes,

I began and then stopped.

Pierrot sat upright in his chair,

His eyes sparkled.

But yes,

What is it that you would say?

Well,

As a matter of fact,

I have read some of Captain Hastings' narratives,

And I thought,

Why not try my hand at something of the same kind?

Seemed a pity not to.

Unique opportunity,

Probably the only time I will be mixed up with anything of this kind.

I felt myself getting hotter and hotter,

And more and more incoherent,

As I floundered through the above speech.

Pierrot sprang from his chair.

I had a moment's terror that he was going to embrace me French fashion,

But mercifully he refrained.

But this is magnificent.

You have then written down your impressions of the case as you went along?

I nodded.

Impotent!

Cried Pierrot.

Oh,

Let me see them this instant.

I was not quite prepared for such a sudden demand.

I racked my brains to remember certain details.

I hope you won't mind,

I stammered.

I may have been a little,

Er,

Personal now and then.

Oh,

I comprehend perfectly.

You have referred to me as a comic,

As perhaps ridiculous now and then.

It matters not at all.

Hastings,

He also was not always polite.

Me,

I have the mind above such trivialities.

Still somewhat doubtful,

I rummaged in the drawers of my desk and produced an untidy pile of manuscript,

Which I handed over to him.

With an eye on possible publication in the future,

I had divided the work into chapters and the night before I had brought it up to date with an account of Miss Russell's visit.

Pierrot had therefore twenty chapters.

I left him with them.

I was obliged to go out to a case at some distance away.

It was past eight o'clock when I got back to be greeted with a plate of hot dinner on a tray and the announcement that Pierrot and my sister had supped together at half past seven and that the former had then gone to my workshop to finish his reading of the manuscript.

I hope,

James,

Said my sister,

That you've been careful in what you said about me.

My jaw dropped.

I had not been careful at all.

Not that it matters much,

Said Caroline,

Reading my expression correctly.

Im Pierrot will know what to think.

He understands me much better than you do.

I went into the shop.

Pierrot was sitting by the window.

The manuscript lay neatly piled on a chair beside him.

He laid his hand on it and spoke.

Eh,

Bien,

He said.

I congratulate you on your modesty.

Oh,

I said,

Rather taken aback.

And on your reticence,

He added.

I said,

Oh,

Again.

Not so did Hastings write,

Continued my friend.

On every page,

Many,

Many times was the word I.

What he thought,

What he did.

But you,

You have kept your personality in the background.

Only once or twice does it uptrude,

In scenes of home life,

Shall we say.

I blushed a little before the twinkle in his eye.

What do you really think of the stuff?

I asked nervously.

You want my candid opinion?

Yes.

Pierrot laid his jesting manner aside.

A very meticulous and accurate account,

He said kindly.

You have recorded all the facts faithfully and exactly,

Though you have shown yourself becomingly reticent as to your own share in them.

And it has helped you?

Yes.

I may say that it has helped me considerably.

Come,

We must go over to my house and set the stage for my little performance.

Caroline was in the hall.

I think she hoped that she might be invited to accompany us.

Pierrot dealt with the situation tactfully.

I should much like to have you present,

Mademoiselle,

He said regretfully.

But at this juncture,

It would not be wise.

You see,

All these people tonight are suspects.

Among them,

I shall find the person who killed Mr.

Aykroyd.

You really believe that?

I said incredulously.

I see that you do not,

Said Pierrot dryly.

Not yet do you appreciate Hercule Pierrot at his true worth.

At that minute,

Ursula came down the staircase.

You are ready,

My child?

Said Pierrot.

That is good.

We will go to my house together.

Mademoiselle Caroline,

Believe me,

I do everything possible to render you service.

Good evening.

We went out,

Leaving Caroline,

Rather like a dog who had been refused a walk,

Standing on the front doorstep,

Gazing after us.

The sitting room at the Larches had been got ready.

On the table were various syrups and glasses,

Also a plate of biscuits.

Several chairs had been brought in from the other room.

Pierrot ran to and fro,

Rearranging things,

Pulling out a chair here,

Altering the position of a lamp there,

Occasionally stooping to straighten one of the mats that covered the floor.

He was especially fussy over the lighting.

The lamps were arranged in such a way as to throw a clear light on the side of the room where the chairs were grouped,

At the same time leaving the other end of the room,

Where I presumed Pierrot himself would sit,

In a dim twilight.

Ursula and I watched him.

Presently,

A bell was heard.

They arrive,

Said Pierrot.

Good,

All is in readiness.

The door opened and the party from Friendly Park filed in.

Pierrot went toward and greeted Mrs.

Aykroyd and Flora.

It is most good of you to come,

He said,

And Major Blunt and Mr.

Raymond.

The secretary was debonair as ever.

What's this great idea?

He said,

Laughing.

Some scientific machine?

Do we have bands round our wrists which register guilty heartbeats?

There is such an invention,

Isn't there?

I have read of it,

Yes,

Admitted Pierrot,

But me,

I am old-fashioned.

I use the old methods.

I work only with the little grey cells.

Now,

Let us begin,

But first I have an announcement to make to you all.

He took Ursula's hand and drew her forward.

This lady is Mrs.

Ralph Payton.

She was married to Captain Ralph Payton last March.

A little shriek burst from Mrs.

Aykroyd.

Ralph?

Married?

Last March?

Oh,

But it's absurd.

How could he be?

She stared at Ursula as though she had never seen her before.

Married to Bourne?

She said.

Really,

Impuro,

I don't believe you.

Ursula flushed and began to speak,

But Flora forestalled her.

Going quickly to the other girl's side,

She passed her hand through her arm.

You must not mind our being surprised,

She said.

You see,

We had no idea of such a thing.

You and Ralph have kept your secret very well.

I am very glad about it.

You are too kind,

Mrs.

Aykroyd,

Said Ursula in a low voice.

And you have every right to be exceedingly angry.

Ralph behaved very badly,

Especially to you.

You needn't worry about that,

Said Flora,

Giving her arm a consoling little pat.

Ralph was in a corner and I took the only way out.

I should probably have done the same in his place.

I do think he might have trusted me with the secret,

Though.

I wouldn't have let him down.

Impuro rapped gently on the table and cleared his throat significantly.

The board meeting's going to begin,

Said Flora.

Impuro hints that we mustn't talk,

But just tell me one thing.

Where is Ralph?

You must know if anyone does.

But I don't,

Cried Ursula,

Almost in a wail.

That's just it.

I don't.

Isn't he detained in Liverpool?

Asked Raymond.

It's said so in the paper.

He's not in Liverpool,

Said Impuro shortly.

In fact,

I remarked,

No one knows where he is.

Expecting Hercule Impuro,

Eh?

Said Raymond.

Impuro replied seriously to the other's banter.

Me?

I know everything.

Remember that.

Geoffrey Raymond lifted his eyebrows.

Everything?

He whistled.

Phew,

That's a tall order.

Do you mean to say you can really guess where Ralph Payton is hiding?

I asked incredulously.

You call it guessing,

I call it knowing,

My friend.

In Cranchester?

I hazzard.

No.

Replied Impuro gravely.

Not in Cranchester.

He said no more,

But at a gesture from him,

The assembled party took their seats.

As they did so,

The door opened once more and two other people came in and sat down near the door.

They were Parker and the housekeeper.

The number is complete,

Said Impuro.

Everyone is here.

There was a ring of satisfaction in his tone,

And with the sound of it I saw a ripple of something like uneasiness pass over all those faces grouped at the other end of the room.

There was a suggestion in all this as of a trap.

A trap that had closed.

Mrs.

Ackroyd,

Miss Flora Ackroyd,

Major Blunt,

Mr.

Geoffrey Raymond,

Mrs.

Ralph Payton,

John Parker,

Elizabeth Russell.

He laid the paper down on the table.

What's the meaning of all this?

Began Raymond.

The list I have just read,

Said Impuro,

Is a list of suspected persons.

Every one of you present had the opportunity to kill Mr.

Ackroyd.

With a cry,

Mrs.

Ackroyd sprang up,

Her throat working.

I don't like it,

She wailed.

I don't like it.

I would much prefer to go home.

You cannot go home,

Madame,

Said Impuro sternly,

Until you have heard what I have to say.

He paused a moment,

Then cleared his throat.

I will start at the beginning.

When Miss Ackroyd asked me to investigate the case,

I went up to Fernley Park with the good Dr.

Shepherd.

I walked with him along the terrace,

Where I was shown the footprints on the windowsill.

From there,

Inspector Raglan took me along the path which leads to the drive.

My eye was caught by a little summer house,

And I searched it thoroughly.

I found two things,

A scrap of starched cambric and an empty goose quill.

The scrap of cambric immediately suggested to me a maid's apron.

When Inspector Raglan showed me his list of people in the house,

I noticed at once that one of the maids,

Ursula Bourne,

The parlor maid,

Had no real alibi.

According to her own story,

She was in her bedroom from 9.

30 until 10.

But supposing that instead,

She was in the summer house.

If so,

She must have gone there to meet someone.

Now,

We know from Dr.

Shepherd that someone from outside did come to the house that night,

The stranger whom he met just by the gate.

At a first glance,

It would seem that our problem was solved and that the stranger went to the summer house to meet Ursula Bourne.

It was fairly certain that he did go to the summer house because of the goose quill.

That suggested at once,

To my mind,

A taker of drugs and one who had acquired the habit on the other side of the Atlantic where sniffing snow is more common than in this country.

The man whom Dr.

Shepherd met had an American accent,

Which fitted and with that supposition.

But I was held up by one point,

The times did not fit.

Ursula Bourne could certainly not have gone to the summer house before 9.

30,

Whereas the man must have got there by a few minutes past nine.

I could,

Of course,

Assume that he had waited there for half an hour.

The only alternative supposition was that there had been two separate meetings in the summer house that night.

Eh,

Bien.

As soon as I went into the alternative,

I found several significant facts.

I discovered that Miss Russell,

The housekeeper,

Had visited Dr.

Shepherd that morning and had displayed a good deal of interest in cures for victims of the drug habit.

Taking that into conjunction with the goose quill,

I assumed that the man in question came to Fernley to meet the housekeeper and not Ursula Bourne.

Who,

Then,

Did Ursula Bourne come to the rendezvous to meet?

I was not long in doubt.

First,

I found a ring,

A wedding ring,

With From R and a date inside it.

Then I learnt that Ralph Payton had been seen coming up the path which led to the summer house at twenty-five minutes past nine,

And I also heard of a certain conversation which had taken place in the wood near the village that very afternoon.

A conversation between Ralph Payton and some unknown girl.

So,

I had my facts succeeding each other in a neat and orderly manner.

A secret marriage,

An engagement announced on the day of the tragedy,

The stormy interview in the wood,

And the meeting arranged for the summer house that night.

Incidentally,

This proved to me one thing,

That both Ralph Payton and Ursula Bourne,

Or Payton,

Had the strongest motives for wishing Mr.

Aykroyd out of the way,

And it also made one more point unexpectedly clear.

It could not have been Ralph Payton who was with Mr.

Aykroyd in the study at nine-thirty.

So,

We come to another and most interesting aspect of the crime.

Who was in the room with Mr.

Aykroyd at nine-thirty?

Not Ralph Payton,

Who was in the summer house with his wife.

Not Charles Kent,

Who had already left.

Who,

Then?

I posed my cleverest,

My most audacious question.

Was anyone with him?

Pierrot leaned forward and shot the last words triumphantly at us,

Drawing back afterwards with the air of one who has made a decided hit.

Raymond,

However,

Did not seem impressed and lodged a mild protest.

I don't know if you're trying to make me out a liar,

Impiero,

But the matter does not rest on my evidence alone,

Except perhaps as to the exact words used.

Remember,

Major Blunt also heard Mr.

Aykroyd talking to someone.

He was on the terrace outside and couldn't catch the words clearly,

But he distinctly heard the voices.

Pierrot nodded.

I have not forgotten,

He said quietly.

But Major Blunt was under the impression that it was you to whom Mr.

Aykroyd was speaking.

For a moment,

Raymond seemed taken aback.

Then he recovered himself.

Blunt knows now that he was mistaken,

He said.

Exactly,

Agreed the other man.

Yet there must have been some reason for his thinking so.

Mused Pierrot.

Oh,

No,

He held up his hand in protest.

I know the reason you will give,

But it is not enough.

You must seek elsewhere.

I will put it this way.

From the beginning of the case,

I have been struck by one thing.

The nature of those words which Mr.

Raymond overheard.

It has been amazing to me that no one has commented on them,

Has seen anything odd about them.

He paused a minute and then quoted softly.

The calls on my purse have been so frequent of late that I fear it impossible for me to accede to your request.

Does nothing strike you as odd about that?

I don't think so.

Said Raymond.

He has frequently dictated those letters to me using almost exactly those same words.

Exactly,

Cried Pierrot.

That is what I seek to arrive at.

Would any man use such a phrase in talking to another?

Impossible that that should be part of a real conversation.

Now,

If he had been dictating a letter,

You mean he was reading a letter aloud?

Said Raymond slowly.

Even so,

He must have been reading to someone.

But why?

We have no evidence that there is anyone else in the room.

No other voice but Mr.

Ackroyd's was heard,

Remember?

Surely a man wouldn't read letters of that type aloud to himself.

Not unless he was,

Well,

Going balmy.

You have forgotten one thing,

Said Pierrot softly.

The stranger who called at the house the preceding Wednesday.

They all stared at him.

But yes,

Said Pierrot,

Nodding encouragingly.

On Wednesday,

The young man was not of himself important,

But the firm he represented interested me very much.

The dictaphone company,

Gasped Raymond.

I see it now,

A dictaphone.

That's what you think?

Pierrot nodded.

Mr.

Ackroyd had promised to invest in a dictaphone,

You remember?

Me?

I had the curiosity to inquire of the company in question.

Their reply is that Mr.

Ackroyd did purchase a dictaphone from their representative.

Why he concealed the matter from you,

I do not know.

He must have meant to surprise me with it,

Murmured Raymond.

He had quite a childish love of surprising people.

Meant to keep it up his sleeve for a day or so.

Probably was playing with it like a new toy.

Yes,

It fits in.

You're quite right.

No one would use quite those words in casual conversation.

It explains too,

Said Pierrot,

Why Major Blunt thought it was you who were in the study.

Such scraps as came to him were fragments of dictation,

And so his subconscious mind deduced that you were with him.

His conscious mind was occupied with something quite different.

The white figure he had caught a glimpse of.

He fancied it was Miss Ackroyd.

Really,

Of course,

It was Ursula Bourne's white apron he saw,

As she was stealing down to the summer house.

Raymond had recovered from his first surprise.

All the same,

He remarked.

This discovery of yours,

Brilliant though as it is,

I'm quite sure I should never have thought of it.

Leaves the essential position unchanged.

Mr.

Ackroyd was alive at 9.

30 since he was speaking into the dictaphone.

It seems clear that the man Charles Kent was really off the premises by then.

As to Ralph Payton,

He hesitated,

Glancing at Ursula.

Her color flared up,

But she answered steadily enough.

Ralph and I parted just before quarter to ten.

He never went near the house,

I am sure of that.

He had no intentions of doing so.

The last thing on earth he wanted was to face his stepfather.

He would have funked it badly.

It isn't that I doubt your story for a moment,

Explained Raymond.

I've always been quite sure Captain Payton was innocent.

But one has to think of a court of law and the questions that would be asked.

He is in a most unfortunate position,

But if he were to come forward.

.

.

Pierrot interrupted.

That is your advice,

Yes?

That he should come forward?

Certainly,

If you know where he is.

I perceive that you do not believe that I do know,

And yet I have told you just now that I know everything.

The truth of the telephone call,

Of the footprints on the windowsill,

Of the hiding place of Ralph Payton.

Where is he?

Said Blunt sharply.

Not very far away,

Said Pierrot,

Smiling.

And Cranchester?

I ask.

Pierrot turned towards me.

Always you ask me that.

The idea of Cranchester,

It is with you.

An idee fixe.

No,

He is not in Cranchester.

He is.

.

.

There.

He pointed with a dramatic forefinger.

Everyone's head turned.

Ralph Payton was standing in the doorway.

That concludes chapter 23,

Pierrot's Little Reunion,

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.