Free The A B C Murders by Agatha Christie Page B

a fall. You see, after the row a year ago, she'd got into the
     habit of telling a few useful lies on the principle that what the mind doesn't know the
     heart doesn't grieve over. This last flare-up came because she'd told Don she was going to
     Hastings to see a girl pal and he found out that she'd really been over to Eastbourne with
     some man. He was a married man, as it happened, and he'd been a bit secretive about the
     business anyway - and so that made it worse. They had an awful scene - Betty saying that
     she wasn't married to him yet and she had a right to go about with whom she pleased and
     Don all white and shaking and saying that one day - one day -”
    “Yes?”
    “He'd commit murder -” said Megan in a lowered voice.
    She stopped and stared at Poirot.
    He nodded his head gravely several times.
    “And so, naturally, you were afraid...”
    “I didn't think he'd actually done it - not for a minute! But I was afraid it might be
     brought up - the quarrel and all that he'd said - several people knew about it.”
    Again Poirot nodded his head gravely.
    “Just so. And I may say, mademoiselle, that but for the egotistical vanity of a killer,
     that is just what would have happened. If Donald Fraser escapes suspicion, it will be
     thanks to A.B.C.'s maniacal boasting.”
    He was silent for a minute or two, then he said:
    “Do you know if your sister met this married man, or any other man, lately?”
    Megan shook her head.
    “I don't know. I've been away, you see.”
    “But what do you think?”
    “She mayn't have met that particular man again. He'd probably sheer off if he thought
     there was a chance of a row, but it wouldn't surprise me if Betty had - well, been telling
     Don a few lies again. You see, she did so enjoy dancing and the pictures, and of course,
     Don couldn't afford to take her all the time.”
    “If so, is she likely to have confided in any one? The girl at the caf
    
    
     Ž
    
    
     , for instance?”
    “I don't think that's likely. Betty couldn't bear the Higley girl. She thought her common.
     And the others would be new. Betty wasn't the confiding sort anyway.”
    An electric bell trilled sharply above, the girl's head.
    She went to the window and leaned out. She drew back her head sharply.
    “It's Don.”
    “Bring him in here,” said Poirot quickly. “I would like a word with him before our good
     inspector takes him in hand.”
    Like a flash Megan Barnard was out of the kitchen, and a couple of seconds later she was
     back again leading Donald Fraser by the hand.

The A B C Murders

Chapter 12
    DONALD FRASER
    I felt sorry at once for the young man. His white haggard face and bewildered eyes showed
     how great a shock he had had.
    He was a well-made, fine-looking young fellow, standing close on six foot, not
     good-looking, but with a pleasant, freckled face, high cheekbones and flaming red hair.
    “What's this, Megan?” he said. “Why in here? For God's sake, tell me - I've only just
     heard - Betty...”
    His voice trailed away.
    Poirot pushed forward a chair and he sank down on it.
    My friend then extracted a small flask from his pocket, poured some of its contents into a
     convenient cup which was hanging on the dresser and said:
    “Drink some of this, Mr. Fraser. It will do you good.”
    The young man obeyed. The brandy brought a little colour back into his face. He sat up
     straighter and turned once more to the girl. His manner was quite quiet and
     self-controlled.
    “It's true, I suppose?” he said. “Betty is - dead - killed?”
    “It's true, Don.”
    He said as though mechanically:
    "Have you just come down from London?
    “Yes. Dad phoned me.”
    “By the 9:20, I suppose?” said Donald Fraser.
    His mind, shrinking from reality, ran for safety along these unimportant details.
    “Yes.”
    There was silence for a minute or two, then Fraser said:
    “The police? Are they doing anything?”
    “They're upstairs now. Looking through Betty's