Why Didn’t They Ask Evans?
When a man plunges down a cliff, two adventurous young friends decide to find his killer…While playing an erratic round of golf, Bobby Jones slices his ball over the edge of a cliff. His ball is lost, but on the rocks below he finds the crumpled body of a dying man. With his final breath the man opens his eyes and says, ‘Why didn’t they ask Evans?’Haunted by these words, Bobby and his vivacious companion, Frankie, set out to solve a mystery that will bring them into mortal danger…
Читать Why Didn’t They Ask Evans? онлайн беплатно
AGATHA CHRISTIE
Why Didn’t
They Ask Evans?
HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd. 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by Collins 1934
Copyright © 1934 Agatha Christie Ltd. All rights reserved.
Agatha Christie asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins ebooks
HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication
Source ISBN: 9780007122608
Ebook Edition © OCTOBER 2010 ISBN: 9780007422906 Version: 2018-10-08
To Christopher Mallock in memory of Hinds
Contents
Chapter 7 An Escape from Death
Chapter 8 Riddle of a Photograph
Chapter 9 Concerning Mr Bassington-ffrench
Chapter 10 Preparations for an Accident
Chapter 11 The Accident Happens
Chapter 12 In the Enemy’s Camp
Chapter 16 Bobby Becomes a Solicitor
Chapter 17 Mrs Rivington Talks
Chapter 18 The Girl of the Photograph
Chapter 21 Roger Answers a Question
Chapter 24 On the Track of the Caymans
Chapter 26 Nocturnal Adventure
Chapter 27 ‘My Brother was Murdered’
Chapter 28 At the Eleventh Hour
Chapter 31 Frankie Asks a Question
Chapter 33 Sensation in the Orient Café
Chapter 34 Letter from South America
Chapter 35 News from the Vicarage
Bobby Jones teed up his ball, gave a short preliminary waggle, took the club back slowly, then brought it down and through with the rapidity of lightning.
Did the ball fly down the fairway straight and true, rising as it went and soaring over the bunker to land within an easy mashie shot of the fourteenth green?
No, it did not. Badly topped, it scudded along the ground and embedded itself firmly in the bunker!
There were no eager crowds to groan with dismay. The solitary witness of the shot manifested no surprise. And that is easily explained – for it was not the American-born master of the game who had played the shot, but merely the fourth son of the Vicar of Marchbolt – a small seaside town on the coast of Wales.
Bobby uttered a decidedly profane ejaculation.
He was an amiable-looking young man of about eight and twenty. His best friend could not have said that he was handsome, but his face was an eminently likeable one, and his eyes had the honest brown friendliness of a dog’s.
‘I get worse every day,’ he muttered dejectedly.
‘You press,’ said his companion.
Dr Thomas was a middle-aged man with grey hair and a red cheerful face. He himself never took a full swing. He played short straight shots down the middle, and usually beat more brilliant but more erratic players.
Bobby attacked his ball fiercely with a niblick. The third time was successful. The ball lay a short distance from the green which Dr Thomas had reached with two creditable iron shots.
‘Your hole,’ said Bobby.
They proceeded to the next tee.
The doctor drove first – a nice straight shot, but with no great distance about it.
Bobby sighed, teed his ball, reteed it, waggled his club a long time, took back stiffly, shut his eyes, raised his head, depressed his right shoulder, did everything he ought not to have done – and hit a screamer down the middle of the course.
He drew a deep breath of satisfaction. The well-known golfer’s gloom passed from his eloquent face to be succeeded by the equally well-known golfer’s exultation.
‘I know now what I’ve been doing,’ said Bobby – quite untruthfully.
A perfect iron shot, a little chip with a mashie and Bobby lay dead. He achieved a birdie four and Dr Thomas was reduced to one up.
Full of confidence, Bobby stepped on to the sixteenth tee. He again did everything he should not have done, and this time no miracle occurred. A terrific, a magnificent, an almost superhuman slice happened! The ball went round at right angles.
