AGATHA CHRISTIE A POCKET FULL OF RYE PDF

Miss Somers was the newest and the most inefficient of the typists. She was no longer young and had a mild worried face like a sheep. The kettle was not quite boiling when Miss Somers poured the water onto the tea, but poor Miss Somers was never quite sure when a kettle was boiling. It was one of the many worries that afflicted her in life. She poured out the tea and took the cups round with a couple of limp, sweet biscuits in each saucer.

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Miss Somers was the newest and the most inefficient of the typists. She was no longer young and had a mild worried face like a sheep. The kettle was not quite boiling when Miss Somers poured the water onto the tea, but poor Miss Somers was never quite sure when a kettle was boiling. It was one of the many worries that afflicted her in life. She poured out the tea and took the cups round with a couple of limp, sweet biscuits in each saucer.

But really! The mess the silly idiot made of that letter to Eastern Developments—a perfectly straightforward job, and always so stupid over the tea. At that moment Miss Grosvenor sailed in to make Mr. Fortescue had different tea, and different china and special biscuits. Only the kettle and the water from the cloakroom tap were the same. But on this occasion, being Mr.

Miss Grosvenor saw to that. Miss Grosvenor was an incredibly glamorous blonde. She wore an expensively cut little black suit and her shapely legs were encased in the very best and most expensive black-market nylons. The typists might have been so many blackbeetles.

Miss Grosvenor was Mr. Fortescue had recently married a second wife, both glamorous and expensive, and fully capable of absorbing all his attention. Miss Grosvenor was to Mr. Miss Grosvenor sailed back with the tray held out in front of her like a ritual offering. Through the inner office and through the waiting room, where the more important clients were allowed to sit, and through her own anteroom, and finally with a light tap on the door she entered the holy of holies, Mr.

It was a large room with a gleaming expanse of parquet floor on which were dotted expensive oriental rugs. It was delicately panelled in pale wood and there were some enormous stuffed chairs upholstered in pale buff leather.

Behind a colossal sycamore desk, the centre and focus of the room, sat Mr. Fortescue himself. Fortescue was less impressive than he should have been to match the room, but he did his best. He was a large flabby man with a gleaming bald head. It was his affectation to wear loosely cut country tweeds in his city office. He was frowning down at some papers on his desk when Miss Grosvenor glided up to him in her swanlike manner. Seated at her own desk again Miss Grosvenor proceeded with the business in hand.

She made two telephone calls, corrected some letters that were lying there typed ready for Mr. Fortescue to sign and took one incoming call. Fortescue is in conference. It was ten minutes past eleven. It was just then that an unusual sound penetrated through the almost soundproof door of Mr.

Muffled, it was yet fully recognizable, a strangled agonized cry. Miss Grosvenor, startled for a moment into complete immobility, rose uncertainly to her feet. Confronted by the unexpected, her poise was shaken. However, she moved towards Mr. What she saw upset her poise still further. Her employer behind his desk seemed contorted with agony.

His convulsive movements were alarming to watch. Fortescue, are you ill? There was no doubt but that Mr. Fortescue was very seriously ill. Even as she came up to him, his body was convulsed in a painful spasmodic movement.

Words came out in jerky gasps. She was no longer the supercilious blonde secretary—she was a thoroughly frightened woman who had lost her head. There was her own doctor but that was at Streatham Hill. Where was there a doctor near here? Nobody knew. Miss Bell seized a telephone directory and began looking up Doctors under D. But it was not a classified directory and doctors were not automatically listed like taxi ranks.

Someone suggested a hospital—but which hospital? Because of the National Health, I mean. For citizens of a country which enjoyed the benefits of Medical Service for all, a group of quite reasonably intelligent women showed incredible ignorance of correc t procedure.

Miss Bell started looking up Ambulances under A. Miss Griffith instructed the office boy to go out and find a doctor—somehow, anywhere. Some short while later Dr. Isaacs of Bethnal Green, and Sir Edwin Sandeman met in the elevator just as two different ambulances drew up in front of the building.

The telephone and the office boy had done their work. Chapter Two Inspector Neele sat in Mr. One of his underlings with a notebook sat unobstrusively against the wall near the door. Inspector Neele had a smart soldierly appearance with crisp brown hair growing back from a rather low forehead. Behind his unimaginative appearance, Inspector Neele was a highly imaginative thinker, and one of his methods of investigation was to propound to himself fantastic theories of guilt which he applied to such persons as he was interrogating at the time.

He classified Miss Griffith as a Not the type of a poisoner, b Not in love with her employer, c No pronounced mental instability, d Not a woman who cherished grudges. That really seemed to dispose of Miss Griffith except as a source of accurate information. Inspector Neele glanced at the telephone.

He was expecting a call from St. It was possible, of course, that Mr. Inspector Neele pressed a buzzer conveniently situated at his left hand and demanded that Mr.

Miss Grosvenor had recovered a little of her poise, but not much. She sat down now with reluctance and eyed Inspector Neele in alarm. Inspector Neele, his mind playing imaginatively on the themes Seduction? Platinum Blonde in Court? Irene Grosvenor. Like the Square. Respectable home with parents.

No blackmail. I always do, I mean. The cup and saucer and teapot had already been packed up and dispatched to the appropriate quarter for analysis. The kettle had been used for making the office tea and had been refilled from the cloakroom tap by Miss Grosvenor. He inquired about sugar and heard that Mr. The telephone rang. Inspector Neele picked up the receiver. His face changed a little.

Inspector Neele listened carefully to the thin unemotional tones speaking from St. As the voice spoke he made a few cryptic signs with a pencil on the corner of the blotter in front of him. His eye went to the watch on his wrist. Twelve forty-three, he wrote on the blotter. The unemotional voice said that Dr. Bernsdorff himself would like to speak to Inspector Neele. There were then various clicks, buzzes, and far-off ghostly murmurs.

Inspector Neele sat patiently waiting. Then without warning a deep bass roar caused him to shift the receiver an inch or two away from his ear. At it again with your corpses? Very interesting case. Very interesting indeed. Glad I was able to be in on it. Bernsdorff robustly.

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An autopsy reveals that the cause of death was poisoning by taxine , a toxic alkaloid obtained from the yew tree , and that Fortescue ingested it with his breakfast, while a search of his clothing reveals a quantity of rye in his jacket pocket. Son Lancelot and his wife Pat are travelling from Kenya to London, at the invitation of his father, according to Lance; at Paris, he wires that he will be home next day, and police meet him at the airport. The day Lance arrives at Yewtree Lodge, leaving his wife in London, Adele dies of cyanide in her tea, and a few hours later the maid Gladys Martin is found strangled in the yard, with a clothes pin put on her nose. Inspector Neele is working full-time with the aid of Sergeant Hay on these murders, interviewing all at the office and in the home. The older son, Percival, tells the Inspector that his father was erratic and ruining the business. Inspector Neele agrees to work with Miss Marple, seeing what she can add. Neele learns that the taxine was ingested in marmalade, with a new jar put out at breakfast used by Rex alone; that jar had been tossed in the yard and found by police.

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