Read Murder on the Orient Express Online
Authors: Agatha Christie
“And then, Messieurs, I saw light. They were
all
in it. For so many people connected with the Armstrong case to be travelling by the same train by a coincidence was not only unlikely, it was
impossible
. It must be not chance, but
design
. I remembered a remark of Colonel Arbuthnot's about trial by jury. A jury is com
posed of twelve peopleâthere were twelve passengersâRatchett was stabbed twelve times. And the thing that had worried me all alongâthe extraordinary crowd travelling in the StamboulâCalais coach at a slack time of year was explained.
“Ratchett had escaped justice in America. There was no question as to his guilt. I visualized a self-appointed jury of twelve people who condemned him to death and were forced by exigencies of the case to be their own executioners. And immediately, on that assumption, the whole case fell into beautiful shining order.
“I saw it as a perfect mosaic, each person playing his or her allotted part. It was so arranged that if suspicion should fall on any one person, the evidence of one or more of the others would clear the accused person and confuse the issue. Hardman's evidence was necessary in case some outsider should be suspected of the crime and be unable to prove an alibi. The passengers in the Stamboul carriage were in no danger. Every minute detail of their evidence was worked out beforehand. The whole thing was a very cleverly-planned jig-saw puzzle, so arranged that every fresh piece of knowledge that came to light made the solution of the whole more difficult. As my friend M. Bouc remarked, the case seemed fantastically impossible! That was exactly the impression intended to be conveyed.
“Did this solution explain everything? Yes, it did. The nature of the woundsâeach inflicted by a different person. The artificial threatening lettersâartificial since they were unreal, written only to be produced as evidence. (Doubtless there were real letters, warning Ratchett of his fate, which MacQueen destroyed, substituting for them these others.) Then Hardman's story of being called in by Ratchettâa lie, of course, from beginning to endâthe de
scription of the mythical âsmall dark man with a womanish voice,' a convenient description, since it had the merit of not incriminating any of the actual Wagon Lit conductors and would apply equally well to a man or a woman.
“The idea of stabbing is at first sight a curious one, but on reflection nothing would fit the circumstances so well. A dagger was a weapon that could be used by everyoneâstrong or weakâand it made no noise. I fancy, though I may be wrong, that each person in turn entered Ratchett's darkened compartment through that of Mrs. Hubbardâand struck! They themselves would never know which blow actually killed him.
“The final letter which Ratchett had probably found on his pillow was carefully burnt. With no clue pointing to the Armstrong case, there would be absolutely no reason for suspecting any of the passengers on the train. It would be put down as an outside job, and the âsmall dark man with the womanish voice' would actually have been seen by one or more of the passengers leaving the train at Brod.
“I do not know exactly what happened when the conspirators discovered that that part of their plan was impossible owing to the accident to the train. There was, I imagine, a hasty consultation, and then they decided to go through with it. It was true that now one and all of the passengers were bound to come under suspicion, but that possibility had already been foreseen and provided for. The only additional thing to be done was to confuse the issue even further. Two so-called âclues' were dropped in the dead man's compartmentâone incriminating Colonel Arbuthnot (who had the strongest alibi and whose connection with the Armstrong family was probably the hardest to prove) and the second clue, the
handkerchief, incriminating Princess Dragomiroff, who by virtue of her social position, her particularly frail physique and the alibi given her by her maid and the conductor, was practically in an unassailable position. Further to confuse the issue, a âred herring' was drawn across the trailâthe mythical woman in the red kimono. Again I am to bear witness to this woman's existence. There is a heavy bang at my door. I get up and look outâand see the scarlet kimono disappearing in the distance. A judicious selection of peopleâthe conductor, Miss Debenham and MacQueenâwill also have seen her. It was, I think, someone with a sense of humour who thoughtfully placed the scarlet kimono on the top of my suitcase whilst I was interviewing people in the dining car. Where the garment came from in the first place I do not know. I suspect it is the property of Countess Andrenyi, since her luggage contained only a chiffon negligée so elaborate as to be more a tea gown than a dressing gown.
“When MacQueen first learned that the letter which had been so carefully burnt had in part escaped destruction, and that the word Armstrong was exactly the word remaining, he must at once have communicated his news to the others. It was at this minute that the position of Countess Andrenyi became acute and her husband immediately took steps to alter the passport. It was their second piece of bad luck!
“They one and all agreed to deny utterly any connection with the Armstrong family. They knew I had no immediate means of finding out the truth, and they did not believe that I should go into the matter unless my suspicions were aroused against one particular person.
“Now there was one further point to consider. Allowing that
my theory of the crime was the correct one, and I believe that it
must
be the correct one, then obviously the Wagon Lit conductor himself must be privy to the plot. But if so, that gave us thirteen persons, not twelve. Instead of the usual formula, âOf so many people one is guilty,' I was faced with the problem that of thirteen persons one and one only was innocent. Which was that person?
“I came to a very odd conclusion. I came to the conclusion that the person who had taken no part in the crime was the person who would be considered the most likely to do so. I refer to Countess Andrenyi. I was impressed by the earnestness of her husband when he swore to me solemnly on his honour that his wife never left her compartment that night. I decided that Count Andrenyi took, so to speak, his wife's place.
“If so, then Pierre Michel was definitely one of the twelve. But how could one explain his complicity? He was a decent man who had been many years in the employ of the Companyânot the kind of man who could be bribed to assist in a crime. Then Pierre Michel must be involved in the Armstrong case. But that seemed very improbable. Then I remembered that the dead nurserymaid was French. Supposing that that unfortunate girl had been Pierre Michel's daughter. That would explain everythingâit would also explain the place chosen for the staging of the crime. Were there any others whose part in the drama was not clear? Colonel Arbuthnot I put down as a friend of the Armstrongs. They had probably been through the war together. The maid, Hildegarde Schmidt, I could guess her place in the Armstrong household. I am, perhaps, overgreedy, but I sense a good cook instinctively. I laid a trap for herâshe fell into it. I said I knew she was a good cook. She answered, âYes, indeed, all my ladies have said so.' But if you are
employed as a
lady's maid
your employers seldom have a chance of learning whether or not you are a good cook.
“Then there was Hardman. He seemed quite definitely not to belong to the Armstrong household. I could only imagine that he had been in love with the French girl. I spoke to him of the charm of foreign womenâand again I obtained the reaction I was looking for. Sudden tears came into his eyes, which he pretended were dazzled by the snow.
“There remains Mrs. Hubbard. Now Mrs. Hubbard, let me say, played the most important part in the drama. By occupying the compartment communicating with that of Ratchett she was more open to suspicion than anyone else. In the nature of things she could not have an alibi to fall back upon. To play the part she playedâthe perfectly natural, slightly ridiculous American fond motherâan artist was needed. But there
was
an artist connected with the Armstrong familyâMrs. Armstrong's motherâLinda Arden, the actress⦔
He stopped.
Then, in a soft rich dreamy voice, quite unlike the one she had used all the journey, Mrs. Hubbard said:
“I always fancied myself in comedy parts.”
She went on still dreamily:
“That slip about the sponge bag was silly. It shows you should always rehearse properly. We tried it on the way outâI was in an even number compartment then, I suppose. I never thought of the bolts being in different places.”
She shifted her position a little and looked straight at Poirot.
“You know all about it, M. Poirot. You're a very wonderful man. But even you can't quite imagine what it was likeâthat
awful day in New York. I was just crazy with griefâso were the servantsâand Colonel Arbuthnot was there, too. He was John Armstrong's best friend.”
“He saved my life in the war,” said Arbuthnot.
“We decided then and thereâperhaps we were madâI don't knowâthat the sentence of death that Cassetti had escaped had got to be carried out. There were twelve of usâor rather elevenâSusanne's father was over in France, of course. First we thought we'd draw lots as to who should do it, but in the end we decided on this way. It was the chauffeur, Antonio, who suggested it. Mary worked out all the details later with Hector MacQueen. He'd always adored Soniaâmy daughterâand it was he who explained to us exactly how Cassetti's money had managed to get him off.
“It took a long time to perfect our plan. We had first to track Ratchett down. Hardman managed that in the end. Then we had to try to get Masterman and Hector into his employmentâor at any rate one of them. Well, we managed that. Then we had a consultation with Susanne's father. Colonel Arbuthnot was very keen on having twelve of us. He seemed to think it made it more in order. He didn't like the stabbing idea much, but he agreed that it did solve most of our difficulties. Well, Susanne's father was willing. Susanne was his only child. We knew from Hector that Ratchett would be coming back from the East sooner or later by the Orient Express. With Pierre Michel actually working on that train, the chance was too good to be missed. Besides, it would be a good way of not incriminating any outsiders.
“My daughter's husband had to know, of course, and he insisted on coming on the train with her. Hector wangled it so that Ratchett selected the right day for travelling when Michel would
be on duty. We meant to engage every carriage in the Stamboul-Calais coach, but unfortunately there was one carriage we couldn't get. It was reserved long beforehand for a director of the company. Mr. Harris, of course, was a myth. But it would have been awkward to have any stranger in Hector's compartment. And then, at the last minute,
you
cameâ¦.”
She stopped.
“Well,” she said. “You know everything now, M. Poirot. What are you going to do about it? If it must all come out, can't you lay the blame upon me and me only? I would have stabbed that man twelve times willingly. It wasn't only that he was responsible for my daughter's death and her child's, and that of the other child who might have been alive and happy now. It was more than that. There had been other children before Daisyâthere might be others in the future. Society had condemned him; we were only carrying out the sentence. But it's unnecessary to bring all these others into it. All these good faithful soulsâand poor Michelâand Mary and Colonel Arbuthnotâthey love each otherâ¦.”
Her voice was wonderful echoing through the crowded spaceâthat deep, emotional, heart-stirring voice that had thrilled many a New York audience.
Poirot looked at his friend.
“You are a director of the company, M. Bouc,” he said, “What do you say?”
M. Bouc cleared his throat.
“In my opinion, M. Poirot,” he said, “the first theory you put forward was the correct oneâdecidedly so. I suggest that that is the solution we offer to the Yugo-Slavian police when they arrive. You agree, Doctor?”
“Certainly I agree,” said Dr. Constantine. “As regards the medical evidence, I thinkâerâthat I made one or two fantastic suggestions.”
“Then,” said Poirot, “having placed my solution before you, I have the honour to retire from the caseâ¦.”
The
Agatha Christie
Collection
THE HERCULE POIROT MYSTERIES
Match your wits with the famous Belgian detective.
The Mysterious Affair at Styles
The Murder on the Links
Poirot Investigates
The Murder of Roger Ackroyd
The Big Four
The Mystery of the Blue Train
Peril at End House
Lord Edgware Dies
Murder on the Orient Express
Three Act Tragedy
Death in the Clouds
The A.B.C. Murders
Murder in Mesopotamia
Cards on the Table
Murder in the Mews and Other Stories
Dumb Witness
Death on the Nile
Appointment with Death
Hercule Poirot's Christmas
Sad Cypress
One, Two, Buckle My Shoe
Evil Under the Sun
Five Little Pigs
The Hollow
The Labors of Hercules
Taken at the Flood
The Underdog and Other Stories
Mrs. McGinty's Dead
After the Funeral
Hickory Dickory Dock
Dead Man's Folly
Cat Among the Pigeons
The Clocks
Third Girl
Hallowe'en Party
Elephants Can Remember
Curtain: Poirot's Last Case
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The
Agatha Christie
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THE MISS MARPLE MYSTERIES
Join the legendary spinster sleuth from St. Mary Mead in solving murders far and wide.
The Murder at the Vicarage
The Body in the Library
The Moving Finger
A Murder Is Announced
They Do It with Mirrors
A Pocket Full of Rye
4:50 From Paddington
The Mirror Crack'd
A Caribbean Mystery
At Bertram's Hotel
Nemesis
Sleeping Murder
Miss Marple: The Complete Short Story Collection
THE TOMMY AND TUPPENCE MYSTERIES
Jump on board with the entertaining crime-solving couple from Young Adventurers Ltd.
The Secret Adversary
Partners in Crime
N or M?
By the Pricking of My Thumbs
Postern of Fate
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