Towards Zero by Agatha Christie

still not to be excused.”
    Thomas smiled—a very gentle smile:
    â€œI don’t agree,” he said. “If a man ought to have his neck wrung, I wouldn’t mind taking the responsibility of wringing it for him!”
    â€œAnd in turn would render yourself liable to the law’s penalties!”
    Still smiling, Thomas said: “I’d have to be careful, of course…In fact one would have to go in for a certain amount of low cunning….”
    Audrey said in her clear voice:
    â€œYou’d be found out, Thomas.”
    â€œMatter of fact,” said Thomas, “I don’t think I should.”
    â€œI knew a case once,” began Mr. Treves, and stopped. He said apologetically: “Criminology is rather a hobby of mine, you know.”
    â€œPlease go on,” said Kay.
    â€œI have had a fairly wide experience of criminal cases,” said Mr. Treves. “Only a few of them have held any real interest. Most murderers have been lamentably uninteresting and very shortsighted. However! I could tell you of one interesting example.”
    â€œOh do,” said Kay. “I like murders.”
    Mr. Treves spoke slowly, apparently choosing his words with great deliberation and care.
    â€œThe case concerned a child. I will not mention the child’s age or sex. The facts were as follows: two children were playing with bows and arrows. One child sent an arrow through the other child in a vital spot and death resulted. There was an inquest, the surviving child was completely distraught and the accident was commiserated and sympathy expressed for the unhappy author of the deed.” He paused.
    â€œWas that all?” asked Ted Latimer.
    â€œThat was all. A regrettable accident. But there is, you see, another side to the story. A farmer, some time previously, happened to have passed up a certain path in a wood nearby. There, in a little clearing, he had noticed a child practising with a bow and arrow.”
    He paused—to let his meaning sink in.
    â€œYou mean,” said Mary Aldin incredulously, “that it was not an accident—that it was intentional?”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Mr. Treves. “I have never known. But it was stated at the inquest that the children were unused to bows and arrows and in consequence shot wildly and ignorantly.”
    â€œAnd that was not so?”
    â€œThat, in the case of one of the children, was certainly not so!”
    â€œWhat did the farmer do?” said Audrey breathlessly.
    â€œHe did nothing. Whether he acted rightly or not, I have neverbeen sure. It was the future of a child that was at stake. A child, he felt, ought to be given the benefit of a doubt.”
    Audrey said:
    â€œBut you yourself have no doubt about what really happened?”
    Mr. Treves said gravely:
    â€œPersonally, I am of the opinion that it was a particularly ingenious murder—a murder committed by a child and planned down to every detail beforehand.”
    Ted Latimer asked:
    â€œWas there a reason?”
    â€œOh yes, there was a motive. Childish teasings, unkind words—enough to foment hatred. Children hate easily—”
    Mary exclaimed: “But the deliberation of it.”
    Mr. Treves nodded.
    â€œYes, the deliberation of it was bad. A child, keeping that murderous intention in its heart, quietly practising day after day and then the final piece of acting—the awkward shooting—the catastrophe, the pretence of grief and despair. It was all incredible—so incredible that probably it would not have been believed in court.”
    â€œWhat happened to—to the child?” asked Kay curiously.
    â€œIts name was changed, I believe,” said Mr. Treves. “After the publicity of the inquest that was deemed advisable. That child is a grown-up person today—somewhere in the world. The question is, has it still got a murderer’s heart?”
    He added thoughtfully:
    â€œIt