Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 4, No. 2, March 1943
Accident
by Agatha Christie
Sometimes Agatha Christie’s style is so deceptively simple that you don’t realize you are shivering until you have finished reading the last paragraph. So beware... Agatha Christie is at her best in the straightforward crime story, and “Accident” is one of Miss Christie’s best crime stories — published here for the first time in America.
“And I tell you this — it’s the same woman — not a doubt of it!”
Captain Haydock looked into the eager, vehement face of his friend r and sighed. He wished Evans would not be so positive and so jubilant. In the course of a career spent at sea, the old sea captain had learned to leave things that did not concern him well alone. His friend Evans, late C.I.D. Inspector, had a different philosophy of life. “Acting on information received—” had been his motto in early days, and he had improved upon it to the extent of finding out his own information. Inspector Evans had been a very smart, wide-awake officer, and had justly earned the promotion which had been his. Even now, when he had retired from the force, and had settled down in the country cottage of his dreams, his professional instinct was still active.
“Don’t often forget a face,” he reiterated complacently. “Mrs. Anthony — yes, it’s Mrs. Anthony right enough. When you said Mrs. Merrowdene — I knew her at once.”
Captain Haydock stirred uneasily. The Merrowdenes were his nearest neighbours, barring Evans himself, and this identifying of Mrs. Merrowdene with a former heroine of a cause célèbre distressed him.
“It’s a long time ago,” he said rather weakly.
“Nine years,” said Evans, accurate as ever. “Nine years and three months. You remember the case?”
“In a vague sort of way.”
“Anthony turned out to be an arsenic eater,” said Evans, “so they acquitted her.”
“Well, why shouldn’t they?”
“No reason in the world. Only verdict they could give on the evidence. Absolutely correct.”
“Then, that’s all right,” said Haydock. “And I don’t see what we’re bothering about.”
“Who’s bothering?”
“I thought you were.”
“Not at all.”
“The thing’s over and done with,” summed up the Captain. “If Mrs. Merrowdene at one time of her life was unfortunate enough to be tried and acquitted of murder—”
“It’s not usually considered unfortunate to be acquitted,” put in Evans. “You know what I mean,” said Captain Haydock, irritably. “If the poor lady has been through that harrowing experience, it’s no business of ours to rake it up, is it?”
Evans did not answer.
“Come now, Evans. The lady was innocent — you’ve just said so.”
“I didn’t say she was innocent. I said she was acquitted.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“Not always.”
Captain Haydock, who had commenced to tap his pipe out against the side of his chair, stopped, and sat up with a very alert expression:
“Hullo-ullo-ullo,” he said. “The wind’s in that quarter, is it? You think she wasn’t innocent?”
“I wouldn’t say that. I just — don’t know. Anthony was in the habit of taking arsenic. His wife got it for him. One day, by mistake, he takes far too much. Was the mistake his or his wife’s? Nobody could tell, and the jury very properly gave her the benefit of the doubt. That’s all quite right and I’m not finding fault with it. All the same — I’d like to know.”
Captain Haydock transferred his attention to his pipe once more. “Well,” he said comfortably. “It’s none of our business.”
“I’m not so sure...”
“But, surely—”
“Listen to me a minute. This man, Merrowdene — in his laboratory this evening, fiddling round with tests — you remember—”
“Yes. He mentioned Marsh’s test for arsenic. Said you would know all about it — it was in your line — and chuckled. He wouldn’t have said that if he’d thought for one moment—”
Evans interrupted him.
“You mean he wouldn’t have said that if he knew. They’ve been married how long — six years, you told me? I bet you anything he has no idea his wife is the once notorious Mrs. Anthony.”
“And he will certainly not know it from me,” said Captain Haydock stiffly.
Evans paid no attention, but went on.
“You interrupted me just now. After Marsh’s test, Merrowdene heated a substance in a test tube, the metallic residue he dissolved in water and then precipitated it by adding silver nitrate. That was a test for chlorates. A neat, unassuming little test. But I chanced to read these words in a book that stood open on the table. H2SO4 decomposes chlorates with evolution of CL204. If heated, violent explosions occur, the mixture ought therefore to be kept cool and only very small quantities used.”
Haydock stared at his friend.
“Well, what about it?”
“Just this. In my profession we’ve got tests, too — tests for murder. There’s adding up the facts — weighing them, dissecting the residue when you’ve allowed for prejudice and the general inaccuracy of witnesses. But there’s another test for murder — one that is fairly accurate, but rather — dangerous! A murderer is seldom content with one crime. Give him time and a lack of suspicion and he’ll commit another. You catch a man — has he murdered his wife or hasn’t he? — perhaps the case isn’t very black against him. Look into his past — if you find that he’s had several wives — and that they’ve all died, shall we say — rather curiously? — then you know! I’m not speaking legally, you understand. I’m speaking of moral certainty. Once you know, you can go ahead looking for evidence.”
“Well?”
“I’m coming to the point. That’s all right if there is a past to look into. But suppose you catch your murderer at his or her first crime? Then that test will be one from which you get no reaction. But the prisoner acquitted — starting life under another name. Will or will not the murderer repeat the crime?”
“That’s a horrible idea.”
“Do you still say it’s none of our business?”
“Yes, I do. You’ve no reason to think that Mrs. Merrowdene is anything but a perfectly innocent woman.”
The ex-inspector was silent for a moment. Then he said slowly:
“I told you that we looked into her past and found nothing. That’s not quite true. There was a stepfather. As a girl of eighteen she had a fancy for some young man — and her stepfather exerted his authority to keep them apart. She and her stepfather went for a walk along a rather dangerous part of the cliff. There was an accident — the stepfather went too near the edge — it gave way and he went over and was killed.”
“You don’t think—”
“It was an accident. Accident! Anthony’s overdose of arsenic was an accident. She’d never have been tried if it hadn’t transpired that there was another man — he sheered off, by the way. Looked as though he weren’t satisfied even if the jury were. I tell you, Haydock, where that woman is concerned I’m afraid of another — accident!”
The old Captain shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, I don’t know how you’re going to guard against that.”
“Neither do I,” said Evans ruefully.
“I should leave well enough alone,” said Captain Haydock. “No good ever came of butting into other people’s affairs.”