tion id="ub3cd5b17-a07e-565a-96e4-876939c30868">
AGATHA CHRISTIE
Partners in Crime
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by Collins 1929
Copyright © 1929 Agatha Christie Ltd
Cover by www.juliejenkinsdesign.com © HarperCollins/Agatha Christie Ltd 2007
Agatha Christie asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780007111503
Ebook Edition © NOVEMBER 2010 ISBN: 9780007422678
Version: 2017-04-17
Contents
3. The Affair of the Pink Pearl
4. The Adventure of the Sinister Stranger
6. The Gentleman Dressed in Newspaper
7. The Case of the Missing Lady
12. The House of Lurking Death
Mrs Thomas Beresford shifted her position on the divan and looked gloomily out of the window of the flat. The prospect was not an extended one, consisting solely of a small block of flats on the other side of the road. Mrs Beresford sighed and then yawned.
‘I wish,’ she said, ‘something would happen.’
Her husband looked up reprovingly.
‘Be careful, Tuppence, this craving for vulgar sensation alarms me.’
Tuppence sighed and closed her eyes dreamily.
‘So Tommy and Tuppence were married,’ she chanted, ‘and lived happily ever afterwards. And six years later they were still living together happily ever afterwards. It is extraordinary,’ she said, ‘how different everything always is from what you think it is going to be.’
‘A very profound statement, Tuppence. But not original. Eminent poets and still more eminent divines have said it before – and if you will excuse me saying so, have said it better.’
‘Six years ago,’ continued Tuppence, ‘I would have sworn that with sufficient money to buy things with, and with you for a husband, all life would have been one grand sweet song, as one of the poets you seem to know so much about puts it.’
‘Is it me or the money that palls upon you?’ inquired Tommy coldly.
‘Palls isn’t exactly the word,’ said Tuppence kindly. ‘I’m used to my blessings, that’s all. Just as one never thinks what a boon it is to be able to breathe through one’s nose until one has a cold in the head.’
‘Shall I neglect you a little?’ suggested Tommy. ‘Take other women about to night clubs. That sort of thing.’
‘Useless,’ said Tuppence. ‘You would only meet me there with other men. And I should know perfectly well that you didn’t care for the other women, whereas you would never be quite sure that I didn’t care for the other men. Women are so much more thorough.’
‘It’s