The Murder at the Vicarage by Agatha Christie Page A

Protheroe? You really don't suspect her?”
    “On my word of honour,” said Colonel Melchett.
    Lawrence drew a deep breath.
    “I've been a fool,” he said. “An absolute fool. How could I have thought for one minute
     that she did it Ñ”
    “Suppose you tell us all about it?” suggested the Chief Constable.
    “There's not much to tell. I Ñ I met Mrs. Protheroe that afternoon Ñ” He paused.
    “We know all about that,” said Melchett. “You may think that your feeling for Mrs.
     Protheroe and hers for you was a dead secret, but in reality it was known and commented
     upon. In any case, everything is bound to come out now.”
    "Very well, then. I expect you are right. I had promised the vicar here (he glanced at me)
     to Ñ to go right away. I met Mrs. Protheroe that evening in the studio at a quarter?past
     six. I told her of what I had decided. She, too, agreed, that it was the only thing to do.
     We Ñ we said good?bye to each other.
    "We left the studio, and almost at once Dr. Stone joined us. Anne managed to seem
     marvellously natural. I couldn't do it. I went off with Stone to the Blue Boar and had a
     drink. Then I thought I'd go home, but when I got to the corner of this road, I changed my
     mind and decided to come along and see the vicar. I felt I wanted someone to talk to about
     the matter.
    “At the door, the maid told me the vicar was out, but would be in shortly, but that
     Colonel Protheroe was in the study waiting for him. Well, I didn't like to go away again Ñ
     looked as though I were shirking meeting him. So I said I'd visit too, and I went into the
     study.”
    He stopped.
    “Well?” said Colonel Melchett.
    “Protheroe was sitting at the writing table Ñ just as you found him. I went up to him Ñ
     touched him. He was dead. Then I looked down and saw the pistol lying on the floor beside
     him. I picked it up Ñ
    
    
     and at once saw that it was my pistol.
    
    
     ”
    “That gave me a turn. My pistol! And then, straightaway I leaped to one conclusion. Anne
     must have bagged my pistol some time or other Ñ meaning it for herself if she couldn't
     bear things any longer. Perhaps she had had it with her to?day. After we parted in the
     village she must have come back here and Ñ and Ñ oh! I suppose I was mad to think of it.
     But that's what I thought. I slipped the pistol in my pocket and came away. Just outside
     the Vicarage gate, I met the vicar. He said something nice and normal about seeing
     Protheroe Ñ suddenly I had a wild desire to laugh. His manner was so ordinary and everyday
     and there was I all strung up. I remember shouting out something absurd and seeing his
     face change. I was nearly off my head, I believe. I went walking Ñ walking Ñ at last I
     couldn't bear it any longer. If Anne had done this ghastly thing, I was, at least, morally
     responsible. I went and gave myself up.”
    There was a silence when he had finished. Then the colonel said in a business?like voice:
    “I would like to ask just one or two questions. First, did you touch or move the body in
     any way?”
    “No, I didn't touch it at all. One could see he was dead without touching him.”
    “Did you notice a note lying on the blotter half concealed by his body?”
    “No.”
    “Did you interfere in any way with the clock?”
    “I never touched the clock. I seem to remember a clock lying overturned on the table, but
     I never touched it.”
    “Now as to this pistol of yours, when did you last see it?”
    Lawrence Redding reflected. “It's hard to say exactly.”
    “Where do you keep it?”
    “Oh! in a litter of odds and ends in the sitting?room in my cottage. On one of the shelves
     of the bookcase.”
    “You left it lying about carelessly?”
    “Yes. I really didn't think about it. It was just there.”
    “So that any one who came to your cottage could have seen it?”
    “Yes.”
    “And you don't remember when you last saw it?”
    Lawrence drew his brows