CHRISTIE Agatha - The Mysterious Affair at Styles.pdf

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The Mysterious Affair at Styles
Christie, Agatha
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1997
Note: Illustrations have been included from 1920 National Book Co. Publishers edition.
Images have been named according to the pagination of this edition.
About the print version
The Mysterious Affair at Styles
Agatha Christie
196 pp.
The National Book Co. Publishers
New York
1920
Note: The electronic version was created from the Dodd, Mead & Company 1920 edition.
However, the electronic text was checked against the 1920 National Book Co. Publishers
edition. The pagination of the electronic version conforms to that of the Bantam Books
edition.
Note:
Prepared for the University of Virginia Library Electronic Text Center.
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Library of Congress Subject Headings
1920
English
French prose; fiction Women Writers LCSH
Revisions to the electronic version
July, 1997 corrector Carolyn M. Fay
Added TEI header and tags.
etextcenter@virginia.edu.
Commercial use prohibited; all usage governed by our Conditions
of Use:
http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/conditions.html
Image of the front cover of The Mysterious Affair at Styles
THE MYSTERIOUS AFFAIR AT STYLES
A DETECTIVE STORY
BY
AGATHA CHRISTIE
THE NATIONAL BOOK CO.
PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK
28 West 44th St.
Copyright, 1920
BY
JOHN LANE COMPANY
Printed in the United States of America
CONTENTS
I. I GO TO STYLES 1
II. THE 16TH AND 17TH OF JULY 14
III. THE NIGHT OF THE TRAGEDY 23
IV. POIROT INVESTIGATES 32
V. ``IT ISN'T STRYCHNINE, IS IT?'' 54
VI. THE INQUEST 81
VII. POIROT PAYS HIS DEBTS 95
VIII. FRESH SUSPICIONS 107
IX. DR. BAUERSTEIN 124
X. THE ARREST 138
XI. THE CASE FOR THE PROSECUTION 154
XII. THE LAST LINK 173
XIII. POIROT EXPLAINS 184
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CHAPTER I
I GO TO STYLES
THE intense interest aroused in the public by what was known at the time as ``The Styles
Case'' has now somewhat subsided. Nevertheless, in view of the world-wide notoriety which
attended it, I have been asked, both by my friend Poirot and the family themselves, to write an
account of the whole story. This, we trust, will effectually silence the sensational rumours
which still persist.
I will therefore briefly set down the circumstances which led to my being connected with
the affair.
I had been invalided home from the Front; and, after spending some months in a rather
depressing Convalescent Home, was given a month's sick leave. Having no near relations or
friends, I was trying to make up my mind what to do, when I ran across John Cavendish. I had
seen very little of him for some years. Indeed, I had never known him particularly well. He
was a good fifteen years my senior, for one thing, though he hardly looked his forty-five
years. As a boy, though, I had often stayed at Styles, his mother's place in Essex.
We had a good yarn about old times, and it ended in his inviting me down to Styles to
spend my leave there.
``The mater will be delighted to see you again -- after all those years,'' he added.
-2-
``Your mother keeps well?'' I asked.
``Oh, yes. I suppose you know that she has married again?''
I am afraid I showed my surprise rather plainly. Mrs. Cavendish, who had married John's
father when he was a widower with two sons, had been a handsome woman of middle-age as I
remembered her. She certainly could not be a day less than seventy now. I recalled her as an
energetic, autocratic personality, somewhat inclined to charitable and social notoriety, with a
fondness for opening bazaars and playing the Lady Bountiful. She was a most generous
woman, and possessed a considerable fortune of her own.
Their country-place, Styles Court, had been purchased by Mr. Cavendish early in their
married life. He had been completely under his wife's ascendancy, so much so that, on dying,
he left the place to her for her lifetime, as well as the larger part of his income; an
arrangement that was distinctly unfair to his two sons. Their step-mother, however, had
always been most generous to them; indeed, they were so young at the time of their father's
remarriage that they always thought of her as their own mother.
Lawrence, the younger, had been a delicate youth. He had qualified as a doctor but early
relinquished the profession of medicine, and lived at home while pursuing literary ambitions;
though his verses never had any marked success.
John practiced for some time as a barrister, but had finally settled down to the more
congenial life of a country squire. He had married two years ago, and had taken his wife to
live at Styles, though I entertained a shrewd suspicion that he would have preferred his
mother to increase his allowance, which would have enabled him to have a home of his own.
Mrs. Cavendish, however, was a lady who liked to make her own plans, and expected other
people to fall in with them, and in this case she certainly had the whip hand, namely: the purse
strings.
John noticed my surprise at the news of his mother's remarriage and smiled rather ruefully.
``Rotten little bounder too!'' he said savagely. ``I can tell
-3-
you, Hastings, it's making life jolly difficult for us. As for Evie -- you remember Evie?''
``No.''
``Oh, I suppose she was after your time. She's the mater's factotum, companion, Jack of all
trades! A great sport -- old Evie! Not precisely young and beautiful, but as game as they make
them.''
``You were going to say -- -- ?''
``Oh, this fellow! He turned up from nowhere, on the pretext of being a second cousin or
something of Evie's, though she didn't seem particularly keen to acknowledge the relationship.
The fellow is an absolute outsider, anyone can see that. He's got a great black beard, and
wears patent leather boots in all weathers! But the mater cottoned to him at once, took him on
as secretary -- you know how she's always running a hundred societies?''
I nodded.
``Well, of course the war has turned the hundreds into thousands. No doubt the fellow was
very useful to her. But you could have knocked us all down with a feather when, three months
ago, she suddenly announced that she and Alfred were engaged! The fellow must be at least
twenty years younger than she is! It's simply bare-faced fortune hunting; but there you are --
she is her own mistress, and she's married him.''
``It must be a difficult situation for you all.''
``Difficult! It's damnable!''
Thus it came about that, three days later, I descended from the train at Styles St. Mary, an
absurd little station, with no apparent reason for existence, perched up in the midst of green

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