Десять негритят / And Then There Were None

Armstrong said: «I thought he was following me… Of course, he’d be bound to go slower than we did. He’s an old man.»

They looked at each other again.

Lombard said: «It’s damned odd…»

Blore cried: «We must look for him.»

He started for the door. The others followed him, Vera last.

As they went down the stairs Armstrong said over his shoulder:

«Of course he may have stayed in the living-room…»

They crossed the hall. Armstrong called out loudly:

«Wargrave, Wargrave, where are you?»

There was no answer. A deadly silence filled the house apart from the gentle patter of the rain.

Then, in the entrance to the drawing-room door, Armstrong stopped dead. The others crowded up and looked over his shoulder.

Somebody cried out.

Mr. Justice Wargrave was silting in his high-backed chair at the end of the room. Two candles burnt on either side of him. But what shocked and startled the onlookers was the fact that he sat there robed in scarlet with a judge’s wig upon his head…

Dr. Armstrong motioned to the others to keep back. He himself walked across to the silent staring figure, reeling a little as he walked like a drunken man. He bent forward, peering into the still face. Then, with a swift movement, he raised the wig. It fell to the floor, revealing the high bald forehead with, in the very middle, a round stained mark from which something had trickled…

Dr. Armstrong raised the limp hand and felt for the pulse. Then he turned to the others. He said – and his voice was expressionless, dead, far away:

«He’s been shot…»

Blore said: «God – the revolver!»

The doctor said, still in the same lifeless voice:

«Got him through the head. Instantaneous.»

Vera stooped to the wig. She said, and her voice shook with terror:

«Miss Brent’s missing grey wool…»

Blore said: «And the scarlet curtain that was missing from the bathroom…»

Vera whispered: «So this is what they wanted them for…»

Suddenly Philip Lombard laughed – a high unnatural laugh.

‘«Five little Soldier boys going in for law; one got in Chancery and then there were four.’ That’s the end of Mr. Bloody Justice Wargrave. No more pronouncing sentence for him! No more putting on of the black cap! Here’s the last time he’ll ever sit in court! No more summing up and sending innocent men to death. How Edward Seton would laugh if he were here! God, how he’d laugh!»

His outburst shocked and startled the others.

Vera cried: «Only this morning you said he was the one!»

Philip Lombard’s face changed – sobered.

He said in a low voice: «I know I did… Well, I was wrong. Here’s one more of us who’s been proved innocent – too late!»

Chapter 14

I

They had carried Mr. Justice Wargrave up to his room and laid him on the bed.

Then they had come down again and had stood in the hall looking at each other.

Blore said heavily: «What do we do now?»

Lombard said briskly: «Have something to eat. We’ve got to eat, you know.»

Once again they went into the kitchen. Again they opened a tin of tongue. They ate mechanically, almost without tasting.

Vera said: «I shall never eat tongue again.»

They finished the meal. They sat round the kitchen table staring at each other.

Blore said:

«Only four of us now… Who’ll be the next?»

Armstrong stared. He said, almost mechanically:

«We must be very careful —» and stopped.

Blore nodded.

«That’s what he said… And now he’s dead!»

Armstrong said: «How did it happen, I wonder?»

Lombard swore. He said:

«A damned clever double cross! That stuff was planted in Miss Claythorne’s room and it worked just as it was intended to. Every one dashes up there thinking she’s being murdered. And so – in the confusion – some one – caught the old boy off his guard.»

Blore said: «Why didn’t any one hear the shot?»

Lombard shook his head.

«Miss Claythorne was screaming, the wind was howling, we were running about and calling out. No, it wouldn’t be heard.» He paused. «But that trick’s not going to work again. He’ll have to try something else next time.»

Blore said: «He probably will.»

There was an unpleasant tone in his voice. The two men eyed each other.

Armstrong said: «Four of us, and we don’t know which…»

Blore said: «I know…»

Vera said: «I haven’t the least doubt…»

Armstrong said slowly: «I suppose I do know really…»

Philip Lombard said: «I think I’ve got a pretty good idea now…»

Again they all looked at each other…

Vera staggered to her feet. She said:

«I feel awful. I must go to bed… I’m dead beat.»

Lombard said: «Might as well. No good sitting watching each other.»

Blore said: «I’ve no objection…»

The doctor murmured: «The best thing to do – although I doubt if any of us will sleep.»

They moved to the door. Blore said:

«I wonder where that revolver is now?..»

II

They went up the stairs.

The next move was a little like a scene in a farce.

Each one of the four stood with a hand on his or her bedroom door handle. Then, as though at a signal, each one stepped into the room and pulled the door shut. There were sounds of bolts and locks, of the moving of furniture.

Four frightened people were barricaded in until morning.

III