By The Pricking of My Thumbs by Agatha Christie Read Free Book Online Page B

butter,' said Tommy.

By The Pricking of My Thumbs
    II
    It was not until the following Thursday evening that Tommy asked suddenly, 'By the way, did you ever get any answer to the letter you sent care of the Bank to Mrs Johnson?'
    'It's nice of you to ask,' said Tuppence sarcastically. 'No, I didn't.' She added meditatively, 'I don't think I shall, either.'
    'Why not?'
    'You're not really interested,' said Tuppence coldly.
    'Look here, Tuppence - I know I've been rather preoccupied. It's all this I.U.A.S. It's only once a year, thank goodness.'
    'It starts on Monday, doesn't it? For five days -'
    'Four days.'
    'And you all go down to a Hush Hush, top secret house in the country somewhere, and make speeches and read Papers and vet young men for Super Secret assignments in Europe and beyond. I've forgotten what I.U.A.S. stands for. All these initials they have nowadays...'
    'International Union of Associated Security.'
    'What a mouthful! Quite ridiculous. And I expect the whole place is bugged, and everybody knows everybody else's most secret conversations.'
    'Highly likely,' said Tommy with a grin.
    'And I suppose you enjoy it?'
    'Well, I do in a way. One sees a lot of old friends.'
    'All quite ga-ga by now, I expect. Does any of it do any good?'
    'Heavens, what a question! Can one ever let oneself believe that you can answer that by a plain Yes or No?'
    'And are any of the people any good?'
    'I'd answer Yes to that. Some of them are very good indeed.'
    'Will old Josh be there?'
    'Yes, he will.'
    'How is he, nowadays?'
    'Deaf as a doorknob, almost blind, rheumatic... and you would be surprised with the things he notices...'
    'I know.' Tuppence said. She thought a little. 'I wish I could go, too.'
    Tommy looked cross.
    'I'm sure you'll find something to do while I'm gone.'
    'I might.' said Tuppence distractedly.
    Her husband looked slightly worried at her.
    'Tuppence... what are you plotting?'
    'Up till now... nothing. Just an idea.'
    'About what?'
    'Sunny Ridge. And a nice old lady drinking milk and talking crazy about dead children and fireplaces. And I thought about having a closer look upon returning the next time... But there wasn't a next time because aunt Ada died... And when we went back to Sunny Ridge Mrs Lancaster was... gone!'
    'You mean her family took her. This seems quite normal.'
    'But she disappeared... no forwarding address... unanswered letters... it was planned. I am more sure of it now.'
    'But...'
    Tuppence cut him short.
    'Listen, Tommy... suppose there really was a crime... seemingly safe and undiscovered. Imagine someone in the family knows something... someone old and gossipy... who talks to everyone... who could become dangerous? What would you do?'
    'Arsenic in the cup?' suggested Tommy cheerfully. 'Bash them on the head. Push them down the staircase?'
    'That would be exaggerated... Sudden deaths call attention. I would look for a simpler way... and find it. A nice respectable Home for Elderly Ladies. You'd pay a visit to it, calling yourself Mrs Johnson or Mrs Robinson - or you would get some unsuspecting third party to make arrangements. You'd fix the financial arrangements through a firm of reliable solicitors. You've already hinted, perhaps, that your elderly relative has fancies and mild delusions sometimes - so do a good many of the other old ladies. Nobody will think it odd if she cackles on about poisoned milk, or dead children behind a fireplace, or a sinister kidnapping; nobody will really listen. They'll just think it's old Mrs So-and-So having her fancies again - nobody will take any notice at all.'
    'Except Mrs Thomas Beresford,' said Tommy.
    'All right, yes,' said Tuppence. 'I've taken notice!'
    'But why did you?'
    'I don't quite know,' said Tuppence slowly. 'It's like the fairy stories. By the pricking of my thumbs/Something evil this way comes. I felt suddenly scared. I'd always thought of Sunny Ridge as such a normal happy place - and suddenly I began to wonder... That's the only way I