The ABC Murders Read Free Page A

murders.”
    â€œI admit,” I said, “that a second murder in a book often cheers things up. If the murder happens in the first chapter, and you have to follow up everybody’s alibi until the last page but one—well, it does get a bit tedious.”
    The telephone rang and Poirot rose to answer.
    â€œâ€™Allo,” he said. “’Allo. Yes, it is Hercule Poirot speaking.”
    He listened for a minute or two and then I saw his face change.
    His own side of the conversation was short and disjointed.
    â€œMais oui….”
    â€œYes, of course….”
    â€œBut yes, we will come….”
    â€œNaturally….”
    â€œIt may be as you say….”
    â€œYes, I will bring it. A tout à l’heure then.”
    He replaced the receiver and came across the room to me.
    â€œThat was Japp speaking, Hastings.”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œHe had just got back to the Yard. There was a message from Andover….”
    â€œAndover?” I cried excitedly.
    Poirot said slowly:
    â€œAn old woman of the name of Ascher who keeps a little tobacco and newspaper shop has been found murdered.”
    I think I felt ever so slightly damped. My interest, quickened by the sound of Andover, suffered a faint check. I had expected something fantastic—out of the way! The murder of an old woman who kept a little tobacco shop seemed, somehow, sordid and uninteresting.
    Poirot continued in the same slow, grave voice:
    â€œThe Andover police believe they can put their hand on the man who did it—”
    I felt a second throb of disappointment.
    â€œIt seems the woman was on bad terms with her husband. He drinks and is by way of being rather a nasty customer. He’s threatened to take her life more than once.
    â€œNevertheless,” continued Poirot, “in view of what has happened, the police there would like to have another look at the anonymous letter I received. I have said that you and I will go down to Andover at once.”
    My spirits revived a little. After all, sordid as this crime seemed to be, it was a crime, and it was a long time since I had had any association with crime and criminals.
    I hardly listened to the next words Poirot said. But they were to come back to me with significance later.
    â€œThis is the beginning,” said Hercule Poirot.

Four
M RS . A SCHER
    W e were received at Andover by Inspector Glen, a tall fair-haired man with a pleasant smile.
    For the sake of conciseness I think I had better give a brief résumé of the bare facts of the case.
    The crime was discovered by Police Constable Dover at 1 am on the morning of the 22nd. When on his round he tried the door of the shop and found it unfastened, he entered and at first thought the place was empty. Directing his torch over the counter, however, he caught sight of the huddled-up body of the old woman. When the police surgeon arrived on the spot it was elicited that the woman had been struck down by a heavy blow on the back of the head, probably while she was reaching down a packet of cigarettes from the shelf behind the counter. Death must have occurred about nine to seven hours previously.
    â€œBut we’ve been able to get it down a bit nearer than that,” explained the inspector. “We’ve found a man who went in and bought some tobacco at 5:30. And a second man went in and foundthe shop empty, as he thought, at five minutes past six. That puts the time at between 5:30 and 6:5. So far I haven’t been able to find anyone who saw this man Ascher in the neighbourhood, but, of course, it’s early as yet. He was in the Three Crowns at nine o’clock pretty far gone in drink. When we get hold of him he’ll be detained on suspicion.”
    â€œNot a very desirable character, inspector?” asked Poirot.
    â€œUnpleasant bit of goods.”
    â€œHe didn’t live with his wife?”
    â€œNo, they separated some years ago. Ascher’s