Crime Fiction

Agatha Christie

Hercule Poirot's Christmas

Collins Crime Club 1939
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Agatha Christie Hercule Poirot's Christmas

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TRESSILIAN went to answer the doorbell. It had been an unusually aggressive peal, and now, before he could make his slow way across the hall, it pealed out again. Tressilian flushed. An ill-mannered, impatient way of ringing the bell at a gentleman's house ! If it was a fresh lot of those carol singers he'd give them a piece of his mind. Through the frosted glass of the upper half of the door he saw a silhouette—a big man in a slouch hat. He opened the door. As he had thought—a cheap, flashy stranger—nasty pattern of suit he was wearing —loud ! Some impudent begging fellow ! " Blessed if it isn't Tressilian," said the stranger. "How are you, Tressilian ? "

Tressilian stared—took a deep breath—stared again. That bold arrogant jaw, the high bridged nose, the rollicking eye.3?es, they had all been there years ago. More subduedmen. . . . He said with a gasp : " Mr. Harry ! " Harry Lee laughed. " Looks as though I'd given you quite a shock. Why ? I'm expected, aren't I ? " " Yes, indeed, sir. Certainly, sir." " Then why the surprise act ? " Harry stepped back a foot or two and looked up at the house—a good solid mass of red brick, unimaginative but solid.

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