Read Online A Pocket Full of Rye by Agatha Christie - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Agatha Christie
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How outrageous of him. To go behind my back and send for Lance.”
“You've no idea, I suppose, why he did such a thing?”
“Of course I haven't. It's all on a par with his behaviour lately - Crazy! Unaccountable. It's got to be stopped - I -”
Percival came to an abrupt stop. The colour ebbed away again from his pale face.
“I'd forgotten -” he said. “For the moment I'd forgotten that my father was dead -”
Inspector Neele shook his head sympathetically.
Percival Fortescue prepared to take his departure - as he picked up his hat he said:
“Call upon me if there is anything I can do. But I suppose -” he paused - “you will be coming down to Yewtree Lodge?”
“Yes, Mr Fortescue - I've got a man in charge there now.”
Percival shuddered in a fastidious way.
“It will all be most unpleasant. To think such a thing should happen to us -”
He sighed and moved towards the door.
“I shall be at the office most of the day. There is a lot to be seen to here. But I shall get down to Yewtree Lodge this evening.”
"Quite so, sir.
Percival Fortescue went out.
“Percy Prim,” murmured Neele.
Sergeant Hay who was sitting unobtrusively by the wall looked up and said “Sir?” interrogatively.
Then as Neele did not reply, he asked, “What do you make of it all, sir?”
“I don't know,” said Neele. He quoted softly, “'They're all very unpleasant people.'”
Sergeant Hay looked somewhat puzzled.
“Alice in Wonderland,” said Neele. “Don't you know your Alice, Hay?”
“It's a classic, isn't it, sir?” said Hay. “Third Programme stuff. I don't listen to the Third Programme.”
A Pocket of Rye
Chapter 10
It was about five minutes after leaving Le Bourget that Lance Fortescue opened his copy of the Continental Daily Mail. A minute or two later he uttered a startled exclamation. Pat, in the seat beside him, turned her head inquiringly.
“It's the old man,” said Lance. “He's dead.”
“Dead! Your father?”
“Yes, he seems to have been taken suddenly ill at the office, was taken to St Jude's Hospital and died there soon after arrival.”
“Darling, I'm so sorry. What was it, a stroke?”
“I suppose so. Sounds like it.”
“Did he ever have a stroke before?”
“No. Not that I know of.”
“I thought people never died from a first one.”
“Poor old boy,” said Lance. “I never thought I was particularly fond of him, but somehow, now that he's dead...”
“Of course you were fond of him.”
“We haven't all got your nice nature, Pat. Oh well, it looks as though my luck's out again, doesn't it.”
“Yes. It's odd that it should happen just now. Just when you were on the point of coming home.”
He turned his head sharply towards her.
“Odd? What do you mean by odd. Pat?”
She looked at him with slight surprise.
“Well, a sort of coincidence.”
“You mean that whatever I set out to do goes wrong?”
“No, darling, I didn't mean that. But there is such a thing as a run of bad luck.”
“Yes, I suppose there is.”
Pat said again: “I'm so sorry.”
When they arrived at Heath Row and were waiting to disembark from the plane, an official of the air company called out in a clear voice:
“Is Mr Lancelot Fortescue aboard?”
“Here,” said Lance.
“Would you just step this way, Mr Fortescue.”
Lance and Pat followed him out of the plane, preceding the other passengers. As they passed a couple in the last seat, they heard the man whisper to his wife:
“Well-known smugglers, I expect. Caught in the act.”
A Pocket of Rye
II
“It's fantastic,” said Lance. “Quite fantastic.” He stared across the table at Detective-Inspector Neele.
Inspector Neele nodded his head sympathetically.
“Taxine - yewberries - the whole thing seems like some kind of melodrama. I dare say this sort of thing seems ordinary enough to you, Inspector. All in the day's work. But poisoning, in our family, seems wildly far-fetched.”
“You've no idea then at
“You've no idea, I suppose, why he did such a thing?”
“Of course I haven't. It's all on a par with his behaviour lately - Crazy! Unaccountable. It's got to be stopped - I -”
Percival came to an abrupt stop. The colour ebbed away again from his pale face.
“I'd forgotten -” he said. “For the moment I'd forgotten that my father was dead -”
Inspector Neele shook his head sympathetically.
Percival Fortescue prepared to take his departure - as he picked up his hat he said:
“Call upon me if there is anything I can do. But I suppose -” he paused - “you will be coming down to Yewtree Lodge?”
“Yes, Mr Fortescue - I've got a man in charge there now.”
Percival shuddered in a fastidious way.
“It will all be most unpleasant. To think such a thing should happen to us -”
He sighed and moved towards the door.
“I shall be at the office most of the day. There is a lot to be seen to here. But I shall get down to Yewtree Lodge this evening.”
"Quite so, sir.
Percival Fortescue went out.
“Percy Prim,” murmured Neele.
Sergeant Hay who was sitting unobtrusively by the wall looked up and said “Sir?” interrogatively.
Then as Neele did not reply, he asked, “What do you make of it all, sir?”
“I don't know,” said Neele. He quoted softly, “'They're all very unpleasant people.'”
Sergeant Hay looked somewhat puzzled.
“Alice in Wonderland,” said Neele. “Don't you know your Alice, Hay?”
“It's a classic, isn't it, sir?” said Hay. “Third Programme stuff. I don't listen to the Third Programme.”
A Pocket of Rye
Chapter 10
It was about five minutes after leaving Le Bourget that Lance Fortescue opened his copy of the Continental Daily Mail. A minute or two later he uttered a startled exclamation. Pat, in the seat beside him, turned her head inquiringly.
“It's the old man,” said Lance. “He's dead.”
“Dead! Your father?”
“Yes, he seems to have been taken suddenly ill at the office, was taken to St Jude's Hospital and died there soon after arrival.”
“Darling, I'm so sorry. What was it, a stroke?”
“I suppose so. Sounds like it.”
“Did he ever have a stroke before?”
“No. Not that I know of.”
“I thought people never died from a first one.”
“Poor old boy,” said Lance. “I never thought I was particularly fond of him, but somehow, now that he's dead...”
“Of course you were fond of him.”
“We haven't all got your nice nature, Pat. Oh well, it looks as though my luck's out again, doesn't it.”
“Yes. It's odd that it should happen just now. Just when you were on the point of coming home.”
He turned his head sharply towards her.
“Odd? What do you mean by odd. Pat?”
She looked at him with slight surprise.
“Well, a sort of coincidence.”
“You mean that whatever I set out to do goes wrong?”
“No, darling, I didn't mean that. But there is such a thing as a run of bad luck.”
“Yes, I suppose there is.”
Pat said again: “I'm so sorry.”
When they arrived at Heath Row and were waiting to disembark from the plane, an official of the air company called out in a clear voice:
“Is Mr Lancelot Fortescue aboard?”
“Here,” said Lance.
“Would you just step this way, Mr Fortescue.”
Lance and Pat followed him out of the plane, preceding the other passengers. As they passed a couple in the last seat, they heard the man whisper to his wife:
“Well-known smugglers, I expect. Caught in the act.”
A Pocket of Rye
II
“It's fantastic,” said Lance. “Quite fantastic.” He stared across the table at Detective-Inspector Neele.
Inspector Neele nodded his head sympathetically.
“Taxine - yewberries - the whole thing seems like some kind of melodrama. I dare say this sort of thing seems ordinary enough to you, Inspector. All in the day's work. But poisoning, in our family, seems wildly far-fetched.”
“You've no idea then at
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