{"id":2337,"date":"2026-01-03T22:23:58","date_gmt":"2026-01-03T22:23:58","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/dead-mans-folly-christie-agatha\/"},"modified":"2026-01-03T22:23:58","modified_gmt":"2026-01-03T22:23:58","slug":"dead-mans-folly-christie-agatha","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/dead-mans-folly-christie-agatha\/","title":{"rendered":"Dead Man’s Folly – Christie, Agatha"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Book Preview<\/h3>\n
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One<\/span><\/span><\/h2>\n<\/div>\n
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I<\/span><\/p>\n

I<\/span><\/span>t was Miss Lemon, Poirot\u2019s efficient secretary, who took the telephone call.<\/p>\n

Laying aside her shorthand notebook, she raised the receiver and said without emphasis, \u201cTrafalgar 8137.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hercule Poirot leaned back in his upright chair and closed his eyes. His fingers beat a meditative soft tattoo on the edge of the table. In his head he continued to compose the polished periods of the letter he had been dictating.<\/p>\n

Placing her hand over the receiver, Miss Lemon asked in a low voice:<\/p>\n

\u201cWill you accept a personal call from Nassecombe, Devon?\u201d<\/p>\n

Poirot frowned. The place meant nothing to him.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe name of the caller?\u201d he demanded cautiously.<\/p>\n

Miss Lemon spoke into the mouthpiece.<\/p>\n

\u201cAir raid?\u201d<\/span> she asked doubtingly. \u201cOh, yes\u2014what was the last name again?\u201d<\/p>\n

Once more she turned to Hercule Poirot.<\/p>\n

\u201cMrs. Ariadne Oliver.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hercule Poirot\u2019s eyebrows shot up. A memory rose in his mind: windswept grey hair\u2026an eagle profile\u2026.<\/p>\n

He rose and replaced Miss Lemon at the telephone.<\/p>\n

\u201cHercule Poirot speaks,\u201d he announced grandiloquently.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that Mr. Hercules Porrot speaking personally?\u201d the suspicious voice of the telephone operator demanded.<\/p>\n

Poirot assured her that that was the case.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re through to Mr. Porrot,\u201d said the voice.<\/p>\n

Its thin reedy accents were replaced by a magnificent booming contralto which caused Poirot hastily to shift the receiver a couple of inches farther from his ear.<\/p>\n

\u201cM. Poirot, is that really you?<\/span>\u201d demanded Mrs. Oliver.<\/p>\n

\u201cMyself in person, Madame.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is Mrs. Oliver. I don\u2019t know if you\u2019ll remember me\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut of course I remember you, Madame. Who could forget you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, people do sometimes,\u201d said Mrs. Oliver. \u201cQuite often, in fact. I don\u2019t think that I\u2019ve got a very distinctive personality. Or perhaps it\u2019s because I\u2019m always doing different things to my hair. But all that\u2019s neither here nor there. I hope I\u2019m not interrupting you when you\u2019re frightfully busy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no, you do not derange me in the least.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood gracious\u2014I\u2019m sure I don\u2019t want to drive you out of your mind. The fact is, I need<\/span> you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNeed me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, at once. Can you take an aeroplane?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do not take aeroplanes. They make me sick.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey do me, too. Anyway, I don\u2019t suppose it would be any quicker than the train really, because I think the only airport near here is Exeter which is miles away. So come by train. Twelve o\u2019clock from Paddington to Nassecombe. You can do it nicely. You\u2019ve got three-quarters of an hour if my watch is right\u2014though it isn\u2019t usually.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut where are you, Madame? What is all this about?<\/span>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNasse House, Nassecombe. A car or taxi will meet you at the station at Nassecombe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut why do you need me? What is all this about?<\/span>\u201d Poirot repeated frantically.<\/p>\n

\u201cTelephones are in such awkward places,\u201d said Mrs. Oliver. \u201cThis one\u2019s in the hall\u2026People passing through and talking\u2026I can\u2019t really hear. But I\u2019m expecting you. Everybody will be so<\/span> thrilled. Good-bye.\u201d<\/p>\n

There was a sharp click as the receiver was replaced. The line hummed gently.<\/p>\n

With a baffled air of bewilderment, Poirot put back the receiver and murmured something under his breath. Miss Lemon sat with her pencil poised, incurious. She repeated in muted tones the final phrase of dictation before the interruption.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2014allow me to assure you, my dear sir, that the hypothesis you have advanced\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n

Poirot waved aside the advancement of the hypothesis.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat was Mrs. Oliver,\u201d he said. \u201cAriadne Oliver, the detective novelist. You may have read\u2026\u201d But he stopped, remembering that Miss Lemon only read improving books and regarded such frivolities as fictional crime with contempt. \u201cShe wants me to go down to Devonshire today, at once, in\u201d\u2014he glanced at the clock\u2014\u201cthirty-five minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n

Miss Lemon raised disapproving eyebrows.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat will be running it rather fine,\u201d she said. \u201cFor what reason?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou may well ask! She did not tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow very peculiar. Why not?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause,\u201d said Hercule Poirot thoughtfully, \u201cshe was afraid of being overheard. Yes, she made that quite clear.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, really,\u201d said Miss Lemon, bristling in her employer\u2019s defence. \u201cThe things people expect! Fancy thinking that you\u2019d go rushing off on some wild goose chase like that! An important man like you! I have always noticed that these artists and writers are very unbalanced\u2014no sense of proportion. Shall I telephone through a telegram: Regret unable leave London?<\/span>\u201d<\/p>\n

Her hand went out to the telephone. Poirot\u2019s voice arrested the gesture.<\/p>\n

\u201cDu tout!<\/span>\u201d he said. \u201cOn the contrary. Be so kind as to summon a taxi immediately.\u201d He raised his voice. \u201cGeorges! A few necessities of toilet in my small valise. And quickly, very quickly, I have a train to catch.\u201d<\/p>\n

II<\/span><\/p>\n

The train, having done one hundred and eighty-odd miles of its two hundred and twelve miles journey at top speed, puffed gently and apologetically through the last thirty and drew into Nassecombe station. Only one person alighted, Hercule Poirot. He negotiated with care a yawning gap between the step of the train and the platform and looked round him. At the far end of the train a porter was busy inside a luggage compartment. Poirot picked up his valise and walked back along the platform to the exit. He gave up his ticket and walked out through the booking office.<\/p>\n

A large Humber saloon was drawn up outside and a chauffeur in uniform came forward.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Hercule Poirot?\u201d he inquired respectfully.<\/p>\n

He took Poirot\u2019s case from him and opened the door of the car. They drove away from the station over the railway bridge and turned down a country lane which wound between high hedges on either side. Presently the ground fell away on the right and disclosed a very beautiful river view with hills of a misty blue in the distance. The chauffeur drew into the hedge and stopped.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe River Helm, sir,\u201d he said. \u201cWith Dartmoor in the distance.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was clear that admiration was necessary. Poirot made the necessary noises, murmuring Magnifique!<\/span> several times. Actually, Nature appealed to him very little. A well-cultivated neatly arranged kitchen garden was far more likely to bring a murmur of admiration to Poirot\u2019s lips. Two girls passed the car, toiling slowly up the hill. They were carrying heavy rucksacks on their backs and wore shorts, with bright coloured scarves tied over their heads.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere is a Youth Hostel next door to us, sir,\u201d explained the chauffeur, who had clearly constituted himself Poirot\u2019s guide to Devon. \u201cHoodown Park. Mr. Fletcher\u2019s place it used to be. The Youth Hostel Association bought it and it\u2019s fairly crammed in summer time. Take in over a hundred a night, they do. They\u2019re not allowed to stay longer than a couple of nights\u2014then they\u2019ve got to move on. Both sexes and mostly foreigners.\u201d<\/p>\n

Poirot nodded absently. He was reflecting, not for the first time, that seen from the back, shorts were becoming to very few of the female sex. He shut his eyes in pain. Why, oh why, must young women array themselves thus? Those scarlet thighs were singularly unattractive!<\/p>\n

\u201cThey seem heavily laden,\u201d he murmured.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir, and it\u2019s a long pull from the station or the bus stop. Best part of two miles to Hoodown Park.\u201d He hesitated. \u201cIf you don\u2019t object, sir, we could give them a lift?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBy all means, by all means,\u201d said Poirot benignantly. There was he in luxury in an almost empty car and here were these two panting and perspiring young women weighed down with heavy rucksacks and without the least idea how to dress themselves so as to appear attractive to the other sex. The chauffeur started the car and came to a slow purring halt beside the two girls. Their flushed and perspiring faces were raised hopefully.<\/p>\n

Poirot opened the door and the girls climbed in.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt is most kind, please,\u201d said one of them, a fair girl with a foreign accent. \u201cIt is longer way than I think, yes.\u201d<\/p>\n

The other girl, who had a sunburnt and deeply flushed face with bronzed chestnut curls peeping out beneath her headscarf, merely nodded her head several times, flashed her teeth, and murmured, Grazie.<\/span> The fair girl continued to talk vivaciously.<\/p>\n

\u201cI to England come for two week holiday. I come from Holland. I like England very much. I have been Stratford Avon, Shakespeare Theatre and Warwick Castle. Then I have been Clovelly, now I have seen Exeter Cathedral and Torquay\u2014very nice\u2014I come to famous beauty spot here and tomorrow I cross river, go to Plymouth where discovery of New World was made from Plymouth Hoe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you, signorina?\u201d Poirot turned to the other girl. But she only smiled and shook her curls.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe does not much English speak,\u201d said the Dutch girl kindly. \u201cWe both a little French speak\u2014so we talk in train. She is coming from near Milan and has relative in England married to gentleman who keeps shop for much groceries. She has come with friend to Exeter yesterday, but friend has eat veal ham pie not good from shop in Exeter and has to stay there sick. It is not good in hot weather, the veal ham pie.\u201d<\/p>\n

At this point the chauffeur slowed down where the road forked. The girls got out, uttered thanks in two languages and proceeded up the left-hand road. The chauffeur laid aside for a moment his Olympian aloofness and said feelingly to Poirot:<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not only veal and ham pie\u2014you want to be careful of Cornish pasties too. Put anything<\/span> in a pasty they will, holiday time!\u201d<\/p>\n

He restarted the car and drove down the right-hand road which shortly afterwards passed into thick woods. He proceeded to give a final verdict on the occupants of Hoodown Park Youth Hostel.<\/p>\n

\u201cNice enough young women, some of \u2019em, at that hostel,\u201d he said; \u201cbut it\u2019s hard to get them to understand about trespassing. Absolutely shocking the way they trespass. Don\u2019t seem to understand that a gentleman\u2019s place is private<\/span> here. Always coming through our woods, they are, and pretending that they don\u2019t understand what you say to them.\u201d He shook his head darkly.<\/p>\n

They went on, down a steep hill through woods, then through big iron gates, and along a drive, winding up finally in front of a big white Georgian house looking out over the river.<\/p>\n

The chauffeur opened the door of the car as a tall black-haired butler appeared on the steps.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Hercule Poirot?\u201d murmured the latter.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMrs. Oliver is expecting you, sir. You will find her down at the Battery. Allow me to show you the way.\u201d<\/p>\n

Poirot was directed to a winding path that led along the wood with glimpses of the river below. The path descended gradually until it came out at last on an open space, round in shape, with a low battlemented parapet. On the parapet Mrs. Oliver was sitting.<\/p>\n

She rose to meet him and several apples fell from her lap and rolled in all directions. Apples seemed to be an inescapable motif<\/span> of meeting Mrs. Oliver.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t think why I always drop things,\u201d said Mrs. Oliver somewhat indistinctly, since her mouth was full of apple. \u201cHow are you, M. Poirot?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTr\u00e8s bien, ch\u00e8re Madame,<\/span>\u201d replied Poirot politely. \u201cAnd you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Oliver was looking somewhat different from when Poirot had last seen her, and the reason lay, as she had already hinted over the telephone, in the fact that she had once more experimented with her coiffure.<\/span> The last time Poirot had seen her, she had been adopting a windswept effect. Today, her hair, richly blued, was piled upward in a multiplicity of rather artificial little curls in a pseudo Marquise style. The Marquise effect ended at her neck; the rest of her could have been definitely labelled \u201ccountry practical,\u201d consisting of a violent yolk-of-egg rough tweed coat and skirt and a rather bilious-looking mustard-coloured jumper.<\/p>\n

\u201cI knew you\u2019d come,\u201d said Mrs. Oliver cheerfully.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou could not possibly have known,\u201d said Poirot severely.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, yes, I did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI still ask myself why<\/span> I am here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I know the answer. Curiosity.\u201d<\/p>\n

Poirot looked at her and his eyes twinkled a little. \u201cYour famous woman\u2019s intuition,\u201d he said, \u201chas, perhaps, for once not led you too far astray.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow, don\u2019t laugh at my woman\u2019s intuition. Haven\u2019t I always spotted the murderer right away?\u201d<\/p>\n

Poirot was gallantly silent. Otherwise he might have replied, \u201cAt the fifth attempt, perhaps, and not always then!\u201d<\/p>\n

Instead he said, looking round him:<\/p>\n

\u201cIt is indeed a beautiful property that you have here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis? But it doesn\u2019t belong to me,<\/span> M. Poirot. Did you think it did? Oh, no, it belongs to some people called Stubbs.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho are they?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, nobody really,\u201d said Mrs. Oliver vaguely. \u201cJust rich. No, I\u2019m down here professionally, doing a job.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh, you are getting local colour for one of your chefs-d\u2019oeuvre?<\/span>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no. Just what I said. I\u2019m doing a job.<\/span> I\u2019ve been engaged to arrange a murder.\u201d<\/p>\n

Poirot stared at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, not a real one,\u201d said Mrs. Oliver reassuringly. \u201cThere\u2019s a big f\u00eate thing on tomorrow, and as a kind of novelty there\u2019s going to be a Murder Hunt. Arranged by me. Like a Treasure Hunt, you see; only they\u2019ve had a Treasure Hunt so often that they thought this would be a novelty. So they offered me a very substantial fee to come down and think it up. Quite fun, really\u2014rather a change from the usual grim routine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow does it work?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, there\u2019ll be a Victim, of course. And Clues. And Suspects. All rather conventional\u2014you know, the Vamp and the Blackmailer and the Young Lovers and the Sinister Butler and so on. Half a crown to enter and you get shown the first Clue and you\u2019ve got to find the Victim, and the Weapon and say Whodunnit and the Motive. And there are Prizes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRemarkable!\u201d said Hercule Poirot.<\/p>\n

\u201cActually,\u201d said Mrs. Oliver ruefully, \u201cit\u2019s all much harder to arrange than you\u2019d think. Because you\u2019ve got to allow for real people being quite intelligent, and in my books they needn\u2019t be.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd it is to assist you in arranging this that you have sent for me?\u201d<\/p>\n

Poirot did not try very hard to keep an outraged resentment out of his voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, no,<\/span>\u201d said Mrs. Oliver. \u201cOf course not! I\u2019ve done all that. Everything\u2019s all set for tomorrow. No, I wanted you for quite another reason.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat reason?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Oliver\u2019s hands strayed upward to her head. She was just about to sweep them frenziedly through her hair in the old familiar gesture when she remembered the intricacy of her hairdo. Instead, she relieved her feelings by tugging at her ear lobes.<\/p>\n

\u201cI dare say I\u2019m a fool,\u201d she said. \u201cBut I think there\u2019s something wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Book Preview One I It was Miss Lemon, Poirot\u2019s efficient secretary, who took the telephone call. Laying aside her shorthand notebook, she raised the receiver and said without emphasis, \u201cTrafalgar 8137.\u201d Hercule Poirot leaned back in his upright chair and closed his eyes. His fingers beat a meditative soft tattoo on the edge of the … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2336,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[142],"class_list":["post-2337","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-agatha-christie"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2337","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2337"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2337\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2336"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2337"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2337"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2337"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}