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Агата Кристи
Rogers wiped the perspiration from his forehead. He said hoarsely:
‘It’s like a bad dream, that’s what it is.’
Blore said, looking at him curiously:
‘Got any ideas yourself, Rogers?’
The butler shook his head. He said hoarsely:
‘I don’t know. I don’t know at all. And that’s what’s frightening the life out of me. To have no idea…’
Ill
Dr Armstrong said violently:
‘We must get out of here—we must—we must! At all costs!’
Mr Justice Wargrave looked thoughtfully out of the smoking-room window. He played with the cord of his eyeglasses. He said:
‘I do not, of course, profess to be a weather prophet. But I should say that it is very unlikely that a boat could reach us—even if they knew of our plight—under twenty-four hours—and even then only if the wind drops.’
Dr Armstrong dropped his head in his hands and groaned.
He said:
‘And in the meantime we may all be murdered in our beds?’
‘I hope not,’ said Mr Justice Wargrave. ‘I intend to take every possible precaution against such a thing happening.’ It flashed across Dr Armstrong’s mind that an old man like the judge was far more tenacious of life than a younger man would be. He had often marvelled at that fact in his professional career. Here was he, junior to the judge by perhaps twenty years, and yet with a vastly inferior sense of self-preservation.
Mr Justice Wargrave was thinking:
‘Murdered in our beds! These doctors are all the same—they think in
The doctor said:
‘There have been three victims already, remember.’
‘Certainly. But you must remember that they were unprepared for the attack. We are forewarned.’
Dr Armstrong said bitterly:
‘What can we do? Sooner or later—’
‘I think,’ said Mr Justice Wargrave, ‘that there are several things we can do.’
Armstrong said:
‘We’ve no idea, even, who it can be—’
The judge stroked his chin and murmured:
‘Oh, you know, I wouldn’t quite say that.’
Armstrong stared at him. ‘Do you mean you
Mr Justice Wargrave said cautiously:
‘As regards actual evidence, such as is necessary in court, I admit that I have none. But it appears to me, reviewing the whole business, that one particular person is sufficiently clearly indicated. Yes, I think so.’
Armstrong stared at him.
He said:
‘I don’t understand.’
IV
Miss Brent was upstairs in her bedroom.
She took up her Bible and went to sit by the window.
She opened it. Then, after a minute’s hesitation, she set it aside and went over to the dressing-table. From a drawer in it she took out a small black-covered notebook.
She opened it and began writing.
