Hercule Poirot's Christmas: A Hercule Poirot Mystery (Hercule Poirot 20)

‘He couldn’t have done it himself?’

Sugden shook his head.

‘Impossible, sir. For one thing, there were the chairs and tables overturned, and the broken crockery and ornaments, and then there was no sign of the razor or knife with which the crime had been committed.’

The chief constable said thoughtfully:

‘Yes, that seems conclusive. Anyone in the room?’

‘Most of the family were there, sir. Just standing round.’

Colonel Johnson said sharply:

‘Any ideas, Sugden?’

The superintendent said slowly:

‘It’s a bad business, sir. It looks to me as though one of them must have done it. I don’t see how anyone from outside could have done it and got away in time.’

‘What about the window? Closed or open?’

‘There are two windows in the room, sir. One was closed and locked. The other was open a few inches at the bottom—but it was fixed in that position by a burglar screw, and moreover, I’ve tried it and it’s stuck fast—hasn’t been opened for years, I should say. Also the wall outside is quite smooth and unbroken—no ivy or creepers. I don’t see how anyone could have left that way.’

‘How many doors in the room?’

‘Just one. The room is at the end of a passage. That door was locked on the inside. When they heard the noise of the struggle and the old man’s dying scream, and rushed upstairs, they had to break down the door to get in.’

Johnson said sharply:

‘And who was in the room?’

Superintendent Sugden replied gravely:

‘Nobody was in the room, sir, except the old man who had been killed not more than a few minutes previously.’

VII

Colonel Johnson stared at Sugden for some minutes before he spluttered:

‘Do you mean to tell me, Superintendent, that this is one of those damned cases you get in detective stories where a man is killed in a locked room by some apparently supernatural agency?’

A very faint smile agitated the superintendent’s moustache as he replied gravely:

‘I do not think it’s quite as bad as that, sir.’

Colonel Johnson said:

‘Suicide. It must be suicide!’

‘Where’s the weapon, if so? No, sir, suicide won’t do.’

‘Then how did the murderer escape? By the window?’ Sugden shook his head.

‘I’ll take my oath he didn’t do that.’

‘But the door was locked, you say, on the inside.’

The superintendent nodded. He drew a key from his pocket and laid it on the table.