The Complete Miss Marple Collection
The Complete Miss Marple Collection
Agatha Christie
Contents
The Murder at the Vicarage
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
The Body in the Library
Dedication
Foreword
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
The Moving Finger
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
A Murder is Announced
Dedication
1. A Murder Is Announced
2. Breakfast at Little Paddocks
3. At 6:30 p.m.
4. The Royal Spa Hotel
5. Miss Blacklock and Miss Bunner
6. Julia, Mitzi and Patrick
7. Among Those Present
8. Enter Miss Marple
9. Concerning a Door
10. Pip and Emma
11. Miss Marple Comes to Tea
12. Morning Activities in Chipping Cleghorn
13. Morning Activities in Chipping Cleghorn (continued)
14. Excursion into the Past
15. Delicious Death
16. Inspector Craddock Returns
17. The Album
18. The Letters
19. Reconstruction of the Crime
20. Miss Marple Is Missing
21. Three Women
22. The Truth
23. Evening at the Vicarage
Epilogue
Credits
They Do It With Mirrors
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Epilogue
Credits
A Pocket Full of Rye
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Credits
4:50 from Paddington
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Credit
The Mirror Crack’d from Side to Side
Dedication
Epigraph
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
A Caribbean Mystery
Dedication
1. Major Palgrave Tells a Story
2. Miss Marple Makes Comparisons
3. A Death in the Hotel
4. Miss Marple Seeks Medical Attention
5. Miss Marple Makes a Decision
6. In the Small Hours
7. Morning on the Beach
8. A Talk with Esther Walters
9. Miss Prescott and Others
10. A Decision in Jamestown
11. Evening at the Golden Palm
12. Old Sins Cast Long Shadows
13. Exit Victoria Johnson
14. Inquiry
15. Inquiry Continued
16. Miss Marple Seeks Assistance
17. Mr. Rafiel Takes Charge
18. Without Benefit of Clergy
19. Uses of a Shoe
20. Night Alarm
21. Jackson o
n Cosmetics
22. A Man in Her Life?
23. The Last Day
24. Nemesis
25. Miss Marple Uses Her Imagination
Epilogue
At Bertram’s Hotel
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Credits
Nemesis
Dedication
1. Overture
2. Code Word Nemesis
3. Miss Marple Takes Action
4. Esther Walters
5. Instructions from Beyond
6. Love
7. An Invitation
8. The Three Sisters
9. Polygonum Baldschuanicum
10. “Oh! Fond, Oh! Fair, The Days That Were”
11. Accident
12. A Consultation
13. Black and Red Check
14. Mr. Broadribb Wonders
15. Verity
16. The Inquest
17. Miss Marple Makes a Visit
18. Archdeacon Brabazon
19. Good-byes Are Said
20. Miss Marple Has Ideas
21. The Clock Strikes Three
22. Miss Marple Tells Her Story
23. End Pieces
Credits
Sleeping Murder
1. A House
2. Wallpaper
3. “Cover Her Face …”
4. Helen?
5. Murder in Retrospect
6. Exercise in Detection
7. Dr. Kennedy
8. Kelvin Halliday’s Delusion
9. Unknown Factor?
10. A Case History
11. The Men in Her Life
12. Lily Kimble
13. Walter Fane
14. Edith Pagett
15. An Address
16. Mother’s Son
17. Richard Erskine
18. Bindweed
19. Mr. Kimble Speaks
20. The Girl Helen
21. J. J. Afflick
22. Lily Keeps an Appointment
23. Which of Them?
24. The Monkey’s Paws
25. Postscript at Torquay
Miss Marple: The Complete Short Stories
Author’s Foreword
From The Thirteen Problems
1 The Tuesday Night Club
2 The Idol House of Astarte
3 Ingots of Gold
4 The Bloodstained Pavement
5 Motive v. Opportunity
6 The Thumbmark of St. Peter
7 The Blue Geranium
8 The Companion
9 The Four Suspects
10 A Christmas Tragedy
11 The Herb of Death
12 The Affair at the Bungalow
13 Death by Drowning
14 Miss Marple Tells a Story
15 Strange Jest
16 The Case of the Perfect Maid
17 The Case of the Caretaker
18 Tape-Measure Murder
19 Greenshaw’s Folly
20 Sanctuary
Credits
About the Author
Other Bundles by Agatha Christie
The Agatha Christie Collection
Copyright
About the Publisher
Agatha Christie
The Murder at the Vicarage
A Miss Marple Mystery
To Rosalind
Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
One
It is difficult to know quite where to begin this story, but I have fixed my choice on a certain Wednesday at luncheon at the Vicarage. The conversation, though in the main irrelevant to the matter in hand, yet contained one or two suggestive incidents which influenced later developments.
I had just finished carving some boiled beef (remarkably tough by the way) and on resuming my seat I remarked, in a spirit most unbecoming to my cloth, that anyone who murdered Colonel Protheroe would be doing the world at large a service.
My young nephew, Dennis, said instantly:
“That’ll be remembered against you when the old boy is found bathed in blood. Mary will give evidence, won’t you, Mary? And describe how you brandished the carving knife in a vindictive manner.”
Mary, who is in service at the Vicarage as a stepping-stone to better things and higher wages, merely said in a loud, businesslike voice, “Greens,” and thrust a cracked dish at him in a truculent manner.
My wife said in a sympathetic voice: “Has he been very trying?”
I did not reply at once, for Mary, setting the greens on the table with a bang, proceeded to thrust a dish of singularly moist and unpleasant dumplings under my nose. I said, “No, thank you,” and she deposited the dish with a clatter on the table and left the room.
“It is a pity that I am such a shocking housekeeper,” said my wife, with a tinge of genuine regret in her voice.
I was inclined to agree with her. My wife’s name is Griselda—a highly suitable name for a parson’s wife. But there the suitability ends. She is not in the least meek.
I have always been of the opinion that a clergyman should be unmarried. Why I should have urged Griselda to marry me at the end of twenty-four hours’ acquaintance is a mystery to me. Marriage, I have always held, is a serious affair, to be entered into only after long deliberation and forethought, and suitability of tastes and inclinations is the most important consideration.
Griselda is nearly twenty years younger than myself. She is most distractingly pretty and quite incapable of taking anything seriously. She is incompetent in every way, and extremely trying to live with. She treats the parish as a kind of huge joke arranged for her amusement. I have endeavoured to form her mind and failed. I am more than ever convinced that celibacy is desirable for the clergy. I have frequently hinted as much to Griselda, but she has only laughed.
“My dear,” I said, “if you would only exercise a little care—”
“I do sometimes,” said Griselda. “But, on the whole, I think things go worse when I’m trying. I’m evidently not a housekeeper by nature. I find it better to leave things to Mary and just make up my mind to be uncomfortable and have nasty things to eat.”
“And what about your husband, my dear?” I said repr
oachfully, and proceeding to follow the example of the devil in quoting Scripture for his own ends I added: “She looketh to the ways of her household….”
“Think how lucky you are not to be torn to pieces by lions,” said Griselda, quickly interrupting. “Or burnt at the stake. Bad food and lots of dust and dead wasps is really nothing to make a fuss about. Tell me more about Colonel Protheroe. At any rate the early Christians were lucky enough not to have churchwardens.”
“Pompous old brute,” said Dennis. “No wonder his first wife ran away from him.”
“I don’t see what else she could do,” said my wife.
“Griselda,” I said sharply. “I will not have you speaking in that way.”
“Darling,” said my wife affectionately. “Tell me about him. What was the trouble? Was it Mr. Hawes’s becking and nodding and crossing himself every other minute?”
Hawes is our new curate. He has been with us just over three weeks. He has High Church views and fasts on Fridays. Colonel Protheroe is a great opposer of ritual in any form.
“Not this time. He did touch on it in passing. No, the whole trouble arose out of Mrs. Price Ridley’s wretched pound note.”
Mrs. Price Ridley is a devout member of my congregation. Attending early service on the anniversary of her son’s death, she put a pound note in the offertory bag. Later, reading the amount of the collection posted up, she was pained to observe that one ten-shilling note was the highest item mentioned.
She complained to me about it, and I pointed out, very reasonably, that she must have made a mistake.
“We’re none of us so young as we were,” I said, trying to turn it off tactfully. “And we must pay the penalty of advancing years.”
Strangely enough, my words only seemed to incense her further. She said that things had a very odd look and that she was surprised I didn’t think so also. And she flounced away and, I gather, took her troubles to Colonel Protheroe. Protheroe is the kind of man who enjoys making a fuss on every conceivable occasion. He made a fuss. It is a pity he made it on a Wednesday. I teach in the Church Day School on Wednesday mornings, a proceeding that causes me acute nervousness and leaves me unsettled for the rest of the day.
“Well, I suppose he must have some fun,” said my wife, with the air of trying to sum up the position impartially. “Nobody flutters round him and calls him ‘the dear Vicar,’ and embroiders awful slippers for him, and gives him bedsocks for Christmas. Both his wife and his daughter are fed up to the teeth with him. I suppose it makes him happy to feel important somewhere.”