The Unexpected Guest – Agatha Christie
‘Yes,’ the woman replied, after a pause.
The man moved away from her, and put the gun on a table by the wheelchair. For a moment he stood looking at the dead body, and then gazed uncertainly around the room.
‘The telephone is over there,’ said the woman, nodding towards the desk.
‘Telephone?’ the man echoed. He sounded startled.
‘If you want to ring up the police,’ the woman continued, still speaking in the same detached, expressionless manner.
The stranger stared at her as though unable to make her out. Then, ‘A few minutes one way or the other won’t make any difference,’ he said. ‘They’ll have a bit of a job getting here in this fog anyway. I’d like to know a little more -‘ He broke off and looked at the body. ‘Who is he?’
‘My husband,’ replied the woman. She paused, and then continued, ‘His name is Richard Warwick. I am Laura Warwick.’
The man continued to stare at her. ‘I see,’ he murmured finally. ‘Hadn’t you better – sit down?’
Laura Warwick moved slowly and somewhat unsteadily to a sofa. Looking around the room, the man asked, ‘Can I get you a – drink – or something? It must have been a shock.’
‘Shooting my husband?’ Her tone was dryly ironic.
Appearing to regain his poise somewhat, the man attempted to match her expression. ‘I should imagine so, yes. Or was it just fun and games?’
‘It was fun and games,’ replied Laura Warwick inscrutably as she sat down on the sofa. The man frowned, looking puzzled. ‘But I would like – that drink,’ she continued.
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