The Mysterious Mr Quin by Agatha Christie Read Free Book Online Page A

finds it lying on the ground and picks it up just as she said. How’s that?’
    The Inspector shook his head.
    ‘Won’t wash, Major Porter. If Captain Allenson had fired that shot close to his body, the cloth would have been singed.’
    ‘He might have held the pistol at arm’s length.’
    ‘Why should he? No sense in it. Besides, there’s no motive.’
    ‘Might have gone off his head suddenly,’ muttered Porter, but without any great conviction. He fell to silence again, suddenly rousing himself to say defiantly: ‘Well, Mr Quin?’
    The latter shook his head.
    ‘I’m not a magician. I’m not even a criminologist. But I will tell you one thing–I believe in the value of impressions. In any time of crisis, there is always one moment that stands out from all the others, one picture that remains when all else has faded. Mr Satterthwaite is, I think, likely to have been the most unprejudiced observer of those present. Will you cast your mind back, Mr Satterthwaite, and tell us the moment that made the strongest impression on you? Was it when you heard the shots? Was it when you first saw the dead bodies? Was it when you first observed the pistol in Mrs Staverton’s hand? Clear your mind of any preconceived standard of values, and tell us.’
    Mr Satterthwaite fixed his eyes on Mr Quin’s face, rather as a schoolboy might repeat a lesson of which he was not sure.
    ‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘It was not any of those. The moment that I shall always remember was when I stood alone by the bodies–afterwards–looking down on Mrs Scott. She was lying on her side. Her hair was ruffled. There was a spot of blood on her little ear.’
    And instantly, as he said it, he felt that he had said a terrific, a significant thing.
    ‘Blood on her ear? Yes, I remember,’ said Unkerton slowly.
    ‘Her ear-ring must have been torn out when she fell,’ explained Mr Satterthwaite.
    But it sounded a little improbable as he said it.
    ‘She was lying on her left side,’ said Porter. ‘I suppose it was that ear?’
    ‘No,’ said Mr Satterthwaite quickly. ‘It was her right ear.’
    The Inspector coughed.
    ‘I found this in the grass,’ he vouchsafed. He held up a loop of gold wire.
    ‘But my God, man,’ cried Porter. ‘The thing can’t have been wrenched to pieces by a mere fall. It’s more as though it had been shot away by a bullet.’
    ‘So it was,’ cried Mr Satterthwaite. ‘It was a bullet. It must have been.’
    ‘There were only two shots,’ said the Inspector. ‘A shot can’t have grazed her ear and shot her in the back as well. And if one shot carried away the ear-ring, and the second shot killed her, it can’t have killed Captain Allenson as well–not unless he was standing close in front of her–very close–facing her as it might be. Oh! no, not even then, unless, that is–’
    ‘Unless she was in his arms, you were going to say,’ said Mr Quin, with a queer little smile. ‘Well, why not?’
    Everyone stared at each other. The idea was so vitally strange to them–Allenson and Mrs Scott–Mr Unkerton voiced the same feeling.
    ‘But they hardly knew each other,’ he said.
    ‘I don’t know,’ said Mr Satterthwaite thoughtfully. ‘They might have known each other better than we thought. Lady Cynthia said he saved her from being bored in Egypt last winter, and you’–he turned to Porter–‘you told me that Richard Scott met his wife in Cairo last winter. They might have known each other very well indeed out there…’
    ‘They didn’t seem to be together much,’ said Unkerton.
    ‘No–they rather avoided each other. It was almost unnatural, now I come to think of it–’
    They all looked at Mr Quin, as if a little startled at the conclusions at which they had arrived so unexpectedly.
    Mr Quin rose to his feet.
    ‘You see,’ he said, ‘what Mr Satterthwaite’s impression has done for us.’ He turned to Unkerton. ‘It is your turn now.’
    ‘Eh? I don’t understand you.’
    ‘You