The Murder of Roger Ackroyd / Убийство Роджера Экройда

‘I didn’t know myself until I got there, and haven’t mentioned it to a soul yet. If that girl Annie knows, she must be a clairvoyant.’

‘It wasn’t Annie who told me. It was the milkman. he had it from the Ferrarses’ cook.’

As I say, there is no need for Caroline to go out to get information. She sits at home and it comes to her.

My sister continued: ‘What did she die of? Heart failure?’

‘Didn’t the milkman tell you that?’ I inquired sarcastically.

Sarcasm is wasted on Caroline. She takes it seriously and answers accordingly.

‘He didn’t know,’ she explained.

After all, Caroline was bound to hear sooner or later. She might as well hear from me.

‘She died of an overdose of veronal. She’s been taking it lately for sleeplessness. Must have taken too much.’

‘Nonsense,’ said Caroline immediately. ‘She took it on purpose. Don’t tell me!’

It is odd, when you have a secret belief of your own which you do not wish to acknowledge, the voicing of it by someone else will rouse you to a fury of denial.

‘There you go again,’ I said. ‘rushing along without rhyme or reason. Why on earth should Mrs Ferrars wish to commit suicide? A widow, fairly young still, very well off, good health, and nothing to do but enjoy life. It’s absurd.’

‘Not at all. Even you must have noticed how different she has been looking lately. It’s been coming on for the last six months. She’s looked positively hag-ridden. And you have just admitted that she hasn’t been able to sleep.

‘What is your diagnosis?’ I demanded coldly. ‘An unfortunate love affair, I suppose?’

My sister shook her head.

‘Remorse,’ she said, with great gusto.

‘Remorse?’

‘Yes. You never would believe me when I told you she poisoned her husband. I’m more than ever convinced of it now.’

‘I don’t think you’re very logical,’ I objected. ‘Surely if a woman committed a crime like murder, she’d be sufficiently cold-blooded to enjoy the fruits of it without any weakminded sentimentality such as repentance.

Caroline shook her head.

‘There probably are women like that – but Mrs Ferrars wasn’t one of them. She was a mass of nerves. An overmastering impulse drove her on to get rid of her husband because she was the sort of person who simply can’t endure suffering of any kind, and there’s no doubt that the wife of a man like Ashley Ferrars must have had to suffer a good deal – ’

I nodded.