Read Online A Pocket Full of Rye by Agatha Christie - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Agatha Christie
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left home the day before yesterday. This food poisoning, or whatever it was, must have been very sudden?”
“It was very sudden, yes. But it wasn't food poisoning, Mr Fortescue.”
Percival stared and frowned.
“No? So that's why -” he broke off.
“Your father,” said Inspector Neele, “was poisoned by the administration of taxine.”
“Taxine? I never heard of it.”
“Very few people have, I should imagine. It is a poison that takes effect very suddenly and drastically.”
The frown deepened.
“Are you telling me, Inspector, that my father was deliberately poisoned by someone?”
“It would seem so, yes, sir.”
“That's terrible!”
“Yes indeed, Mr Fortescue.”
Percival murmured: “I understand now their attitude in the hospital - their referring me here.” He broke off. After a pause he went on, “The funeral?” He spoke interrogatively.
“The inquest is fixed for tomorrow after the post-mortem. The proceedings at the inquest will be purely formal and the inquest will be adjourned.”
“I understand. That is usually the case?”
“Yes, sir. Nowadays.”
“May I ask have you formed any ideas, any suspicions of who could - Really, I -” again he broke off.
“It's rather early days for that, Mr Fortescue,” murmured Neele.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“All the same it would be helpful to us, Mr Fortescue, if you could give us some idea of your father's testamentary dispositions. Or perhaps you could put me in touch with his solicitor.”
“His solicitors are Billingsby, Horsethorpe & Walters of Bedford Square. As far as his Will goes I think I can more or less tell you its main dispositions.”
“If you will be kind enough to do so, Mr Fortescue. It's a routine that has to be gone through, I'm afraid.”
“My father made a new Will on the occasion of his marriage two years ago,” said Percival precisely. “My father left the sum of 100,000 pounds to his wife absolutely and 50,000 pounds to my sister, Elaine. I am his residuary legatee. I am already, of course, a partner in the firm.”
“There was no bequest to your brother, Lancelot Fortescue?”
“No, there is an estrangement of long standing between my father and my brother.”
Neele threw a sharp glance at him - but Percival seemed quite sure of his statement.
“So as the Will stands,” said Inspector Neele, “the three people who stand to gain are Mrs Fortescue, Miss Elaine Fortescue and yourself?”
“I don't think I shall be much of a gainer.” Percival sighed. “There are death duties, you know. Inspector. And of late my father has been - well, all I can say is, highly injudicious in some of his financial dealings.”
“You and your father have not seen eye to eye lately about the conduct of the business?” Inspector Neele threw out the question in a genial manner.
“I put my point of view to him, but alas -” Percival shrugged his shoulders.
“Put it rather forcibly, didn't you?” Neele inquired. “In fact, not to put too fine a point on it there was quite a row about it, wasn't there?”
“I should hardly say that, Inspector.” A red flush of annoyance mounted to Percival's forehead.
“Perhaps the dispute you had was about some other matter then, Mr Fortescue.”
“There was no dispute. Inspector.”
“Quite sure of that, Mr Fortescue? Well, no matter. Did I understand that your father and brother are still estranged?”
“That is so.”
“Then perhaps you can tell me what this means?”
Neele handed him the telephone message Mary Dove had jotted down.
Percival read it and uttered an exclamation of surprise and annoyance. He seemed both incredulous and angry.
“I can't understand it, I really can't. I can hardly believe it.”
“It seems to be true, though, Mr Fortescue. Your brother is arriving from Paris today.”
“But it's extraordinary, quite extraordinary. No, I really can't understand it.”
“Your father said nothing to you about it?”
“He certainly did not.
“It was very sudden, yes. But it wasn't food poisoning, Mr Fortescue.”
Percival stared and frowned.
“No? So that's why -” he broke off.
“Your father,” said Inspector Neele, “was poisoned by the administration of taxine.”
“Taxine? I never heard of it.”
“Very few people have, I should imagine. It is a poison that takes effect very suddenly and drastically.”
The frown deepened.
“Are you telling me, Inspector, that my father was deliberately poisoned by someone?”
“It would seem so, yes, sir.”
“That's terrible!”
“Yes indeed, Mr Fortescue.”
Percival murmured: “I understand now their attitude in the hospital - their referring me here.” He broke off. After a pause he went on, “The funeral?” He spoke interrogatively.
“The inquest is fixed for tomorrow after the post-mortem. The proceedings at the inquest will be purely formal and the inquest will be adjourned.”
“I understand. That is usually the case?”
“Yes, sir. Nowadays.”
“May I ask have you formed any ideas, any suspicions of who could - Really, I -” again he broke off.
“It's rather early days for that, Mr Fortescue,” murmured Neele.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“All the same it would be helpful to us, Mr Fortescue, if you could give us some idea of your father's testamentary dispositions. Or perhaps you could put me in touch with his solicitor.”
“His solicitors are Billingsby, Horsethorpe & Walters of Bedford Square. As far as his Will goes I think I can more or less tell you its main dispositions.”
“If you will be kind enough to do so, Mr Fortescue. It's a routine that has to be gone through, I'm afraid.”
“My father made a new Will on the occasion of his marriage two years ago,” said Percival precisely. “My father left the sum of 100,000 pounds to his wife absolutely and 50,000 pounds to my sister, Elaine. I am his residuary legatee. I am already, of course, a partner in the firm.”
“There was no bequest to your brother, Lancelot Fortescue?”
“No, there is an estrangement of long standing between my father and my brother.”
Neele threw a sharp glance at him - but Percival seemed quite sure of his statement.
“So as the Will stands,” said Inspector Neele, “the three people who stand to gain are Mrs Fortescue, Miss Elaine Fortescue and yourself?”
“I don't think I shall be much of a gainer.” Percival sighed. “There are death duties, you know. Inspector. And of late my father has been - well, all I can say is, highly injudicious in some of his financial dealings.”
“You and your father have not seen eye to eye lately about the conduct of the business?” Inspector Neele threw out the question in a genial manner.
“I put my point of view to him, but alas -” Percival shrugged his shoulders.
“Put it rather forcibly, didn't you?” Neele inquired. “In fact, not to put too fine a point on it there was quite a row about it, wasn't there?”
“I should hardly say that, Inspector.” A red flush of annoyance mounted to Percival's forehead.
“Perhaps the dispute you had was about some other matter then, Mr Fortescue.”
“There was no dispute. Inspector.”
“Quite sure of that, Mr Fortescue? Well, no matter. Did I understand that your father and brother are still estranged?”
“That is so.”
“Then perhaps you can tell me what this means?”
Neele handed him the telephone message Mary Dove had jotted down.
Percival read it and uttered an exclamation of surprise and annoyance. He seemed both incredulous and angry.
“I can't understand it, I really can't. I can hardly believe it.”
“It seems to be true, though, Mr Fortescue. Your brother is arriving from Paris today.”
“But it's extraordinary, quite extraordinary. No, I really can't understand it.”
“Your father said nothing to you about it?”
“He certainly did not.
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