Sing a Song of Sixpence: An Agatha Christie Short Story. Агата Кристи

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      ‘No – I meant my brother and I. Oh! and William and Emily too, for that matter. But I must explain. I have – I had an aunt – Miss Crabtree. You may have read about her in the papers. It was horrible. She was killed – murdered.’

      ‘Ah!’ A flash of interest lit up Sir Edward’s face. ‘About a month ago, wasn’t it?’

      The girl nodded.

      ‘Rather less than that – three weeks.’

      ‘Yes, I remember. She was hit on the head in her own house. They didn’t get the fellow who did it.’

      Again Magdalen Vaughan nodded.

      ‘They didn’t get the man – I don’t believe they ever will get the man. You see – there mightn’t be any man to get.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Yes – it’s awful. Nothing’s come out about it in the papers. But that’s what the police think. They know nobody came to the house that night.’

      ‘You mean –?’

      ‘That it’s one of us four. It must be. They don’t know which – and we don’t know which … We don’t know. And we sit there every day looking at each other surreptitiously and wondering. Oh! if only it could have been someone from outside – but I don’t see how it can …’

      Sir Edward stared at her, his interest arising.

      ‘You mean that the members of the family are under suspicion?’

      ‘Yes, that’s what I mean. The police haven’t said so, of course. They’ve been quite polite and nice. But they’ve ransacked the house, they’ve questioned us all, and Martha again and again … And because they don’t know which, they’re holding their hand. I’m so frightened – so horribly frightened …’

      ‘My dear child. Come now, surely now, surely you are exaggerating.’

      ‘I’m not. It’s one of us four – it must be.’

      ‘Who are the four to whom you refer?’

      Magdalen sat up straight and spoke more composedly.

      ‘There’s myself and Matthew. Aunt Lily was our great aunt. She was my grandmother’s sister. We’ve lived with her ever since we were fourteen (we’re twins, you know). Then there was William Crabtree. He was her nephew – her brother’s child. He lived there too, with his wife Emily.’

      ‘She supported them?’

      ‘More or less. He has a little money of his own, but he’s not strong and has to live at home. He’s a quiet, dreamy sort of man. I’m sure it would have been impossible for him to have – oh! – it’s awful of me to think of it even!’

      ‘I am still very far from understanding the position. Perhaps you would not mind running over the facts – if it does not distress you too much.’

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