Read Online Towards Zero by Agatha Christie - Free Book Online Page A

movement—and yet all the time intensely aware of everything going on round her. She was like a person, he thought, who had a secret to hide. But what secret? He knew a little of the events that had befallen her in the last few years. He had been prepared for lines of sorrow and loss—but this was something else. She was like a child who, by a tightly clenched hand over a treasure—calls attention to what it wants to hide.
    And then his eyes went to the other woman—the girl who was now Nevile Strange’s wife. Beautiful, yes. Mary Aldin had been right. He rather fancied dangerous, too. He thought: I wouldn’t like to trust her near Audrey if she had a knife in her hand….
    And yet, why should she hate Nevile’s first wife? All that was over and done with. Audrey had no part or parcel in their lives nowadays. Footsteps rang out on the terrace as Nevile came round the corner of the house. He looked warm and was carrying a picture paper.
    â€œHere’s the Illustrated Review, ” he said. “Couldn’t get the other—”
    Then two things happened at precisely the same minute.
    Kay said: “Oh good, give it to me,” and Audrey, without moving her head, held out her hand almost absentmindedly.
    Nevile had stopped halfway between the two women. A dawn of embarrassment showed in his face. Before he could speak, Kay said, her voice rising with a slight note of hysteria, “I want it. Give it me! Give it me, Nevile!”
    Audrey Strange started, turned her head, withdrew her hand and murmured with just the slightest air of confusion:
    â€œOh sorry. I thought you were speaking to me, Nevile.”
    Thomas Royde saw the colour come up brick red in NevileStrange’s neck. He took three quick steps forward and held out the picture paper to Audrey.
    She said, hesitating, her air of embarrassment growing:
    â€œOh, but—”
    Kay pushed back her chair with a rough movement. She stood up, then, turning, she made for the drawing room window. Royde had no time to move before she had charged into him blindly.
    The shock made her recoil; she looked at him as he apologized. He saw then why she had not seen him, her eyes were brimming with tears—tears, he fancied, of anger.
    â€œHullo,” she said. “Who are you? Oh, of course, the man from Malay!”
    â€œYes,” said Thomas. “I’m the man from Malay.”
    â€œI wish to God I was in Malay,” said Kay. “Anywhere but here! I loathe this beastly lousy house! I loathe everyone in it!”
    Emotional scenes always alarmed Thomas. He regarded Kay warily and murmured nervously:
    â€œAh—hum.”
    â€œUnless they’re very careful,” said Kay, “I shall kill someone! Either Nevile or that whey-faced cat out there!”
    She brushed past him and went out of the room, banging the door.
    Thomas Royde stood stock-still. He was not quite sure what to do next, but he was glad that young Mrs. Strange had gone. He stood and looked at the door that she had slammed so vigorously. Something of a tiger cat, the new Mrs. Strange.
    The window was darkened as Nevile Strange paused in the space between the french doors. He was breathing rather fast.
    He greeted Thomas vaguely.
    â€œOh—er—hullo, Royde, didn’t know you’d arrived. I say, have you seen my wife?”
    â€œShe passed through about a minute ago,” said the other.
    Nevile in his turn went out through the drawing room door. He was looking annoyed.
    Thomas Royde went slowly through the open window. He was not a heavy walker. Not until he was a couple of yards away did Audrey turn her head.
    Then he saw those wide-apart eyes open wider, saw her lips part. She slipped down from the wall and came towards him, hands outstretched.
    â€œOh Thomas,” she said. “Dear Thomas! How glad I am you’ve come.”
    As he took the two small white hands in his and bent down to her, Mary Aldin in