Agatha Christie and the Eleven Missing Days (10 page)

Part Two
Suspicion, Speculation and Uncertainty

Chapter Seven
Dredging the Silent Pool

What no one could have predicted on the night of Agatha’s disappearance from her home in Berkshire were the unprecedented steps the authorities would take to find her and the way the press would blow the incident up into a front-page sensation.

Agatha’s absence was first noticed on the morning of Saturday 4 December 1926 through the discovery of her abandoned Morris Cowley near Newlands Corner, a local beauty spot much frequented by motorists and tourists five miles from Guildford in the neighbouring county of Surrey. The car was three hundred yards below the plateau of Newlands Corner at the edge of a chalk pit by Water Lane, a rutted, twisting dirt track leading to the village of Albury in the gently sloping valley below. The situation was like a scene from one of Agatha’s detective novels, and what was to follow in the next week and a half was more bizarre than anything she ever penned.

The headlights of the abandoned four-seater were first seen piercing the winter darkness around seven o’clock by a Chilworth cattleman, Harry Green, but as he was on his way to work he did nothing at the time. Almost an hour elapsed before Jack Best, a gypsy boy on his way to work for a shooting party, passed the spot and took a closer look. The person who actually brought the matter to the attention of the authorities, shortly after eight o’clock, was Frederick Dore, a car tester based at Thames Ditton, who subsequently recalled: ‘When I found the car the brakes were off, and it was in neutral gear. The running board and the under part of the carriage were resting on the bush. From its position it appeared to me that the car must have been given a push at the top of the hill and sent down deliberately. The lights were off and I found that the battery had run right down. The lamps had evidently been left on until the current became exhausted. If anyone had accidentally run off the road the car would have pulled up earlier. There was no sign that the brakes had been applied. I looked for skid marks on the soft ground but could find none.’

A gypsy girl told Dore she had heard a car about midnight coming along the track on top of the downs leading from Guildford. While there was no way of knowing whether the two incidents were connected the unusual discovery prompted Dore to take immediate action. ‘I went to Mr Alfred Luland, who looks after the refreshment kiosk on the other side of the road, and asked him to take charge of the car, while I informed the policeman at Merrow.’ Dore telephoned the police from Newlands Corner Hotel, some five hundred yards away on the Clandon Road.

The first intimation Archie had of Agatha’s disappearance was when her secretary Charlotte rang the home of his hosts, Sam and Madge James, at Hurtmore Cottage near Godalming, to tell him that a policeman had turned up at Styles that morning to announce that Mrs Christie appeared to be missing. Archie was none too pleased at having his weekend with Nancy interrupted. He had no sooner terminated the telephone call and announced he had to leave because his mother had been taken ill than a police officer set the tongues of the Jameses’ servants wagging by turning up on the doorstep.

Archie was escorted back to Styles. He insisted that he was unable to shed any light on Agatha’s whereabouts, saying he had last seen her on the Friday morning before departing for work. He gave every indication of being completely baffled, but after surreptitiously reading the letter that Agatha had left for him on the hall table the previous night he burned it without telling the police of its existence or contents. He adjured Charlotte, who knew of the letter, to silence by telling her it had been written before Agatha had changed her plans to go to Beverley for the weekend.

News of the discovery of the abandoned car was relayed to the Surrey County Police Headquarters in Woodbridge Road in Guildford, but it was not until 11 a.m. that the matter came to the attention of Deputy Chief Constable Kenward. The fifty-year-old recipient of the King’s Police Medal had been involved two years earlier in the investigations which had led to the trial and conviction of the Frenchman Jean Vacquier in what was known as the Byfleet murder. The press had been riveted by the story, tailing the police twenty-four hours a day, often interviewing important witnesses before the police arrived. Deputy Chief Constable Kenward was not to know that the press would be even more enthralled by this new story.

He took a grim view of the affair from the very first: ‘The car was found in such a position as to indicate that some unusual proceeding had taken place, the car being found half-way down a grassy slope well off the main road with its bonnet buried in some bushes, as if it had got out of control. In the car was found a fur coat, a dressing case containing various articles of ladies’ wearing apparel and a driving licence indicating that the owner was Mrs Agatha Christie of Sunningdale, Berkshire.’

Several questions needed urgent answers. How, why and when had Agatha’s car been abandoned? And why had her handbag, distinguished by its fashionable zip, been removed?

Another intriguing factor was the weather. The temperature at six o’clock had been 41 degrees Fahrenheit, a quarter of the sky had been covered in cloud and there had been a westerly breeze. By midnight the temperature had fallen to 36 degrees, the sky had completely cleared of cloud cover and the breeze had swung round to the north-east. So why had Agatha’s heavy fur coat been abandoned on the back seat?

Deputy Chief Constable Kenward’s bewilderment was shared by his officers, including Tom Roberts, a 21-year-old probationary constable, who described the mysterious affair at Newlands Corner as ‘the most sensational event that occurred whilst I was at Headquarters… The bushes were crushed from the impact of the car, but they had prevented it from falling into the chalk pit.’

Curiously, there was very little damage to the car, which was found in an upright position with the glass windscreen intact. Furthermore, the folding canvas roof was still erect and the plastic side-screens in place, although the bonnet was slightly damaged, the speedometer cable was broken and one of the wings was a little bent. The car doors were closed, the brakes were off and the gears were in neutral. The spare tin of petrol, carried on the side step, appeared to have been knocked off when the car collided with the bushes and was found lying in the grass. By the time Deputy Chief Constable Kenward arrived on the scene the battery was flat, in accordance with Frederick Dore’s observations.

The police officer’s subsequent inquiries did not bode well: ‘I immediately instituted inquiries, and found that the lady had left her home at Sunningdale in the car, late the previous evening, under rather unusual circumstances. I also learned that Mrs Christie had been very depressed and that just before leaving in the car she had gone upstairs and kissed her daughter who was in bed asleep.’

A pall of bewilderment and uncertainty hung over Styles. The police slowly gathered together the known details of Agatha’s last week in the hope of finding a clue to her whereabouts.

Gradually, the pieces fell into place like a jigsaw – only Deputy Chief Constable Kenward discovered there were pieces missing. It transpired that on the Monday Agatha had played golf with her friend, Mrs da Silva. On Wednesday they had gone to London on a shopping expedition, and Agatha had stayed overnight at her club, the Forum, before meeting her literary agent on Thursday morning to discuss the impending publication of
The Big Four
and her difficulties over finishing her latest novel
The Mystery of the Blue Train
. She had also been contracted to write six stories for a US magazine and had another two to complete. Agatha had returned to Styles on Thursday afternoon and later that night had gone dancing with her secretary at Ascot. Charlotte had last seen her employer on the morning of Friday the 3rd and said that Agatha had appeared in such good spirits, happily playing with Rosalind, that she had decided to take up her employer’s offer of a day off and visit London.

But where exactly had Agatha driven to that morning before returning to Styles for lunch? If the police had thought to follow this up, the answer could have helped them find the missing writer, but they did not. The case’s many other baffling features, along with other apparently promising leads, proved too distracting.

It was established that around midday Mrs da Silva had rung Styles asking if Agatha would like to come over to her house and play bridge that afternoon. But the servant who took the call on Agatha’s behalf explained that Mrs Christie could not come, although no specific reason was given. Charlotte had last communicated with Agatha when she had rung her employer shortly after six o’clock on the night of the disappearance to see if she was all right; Agatha had answered the telephone, sounding normal despite her earlier row with Archie, and had urged Charlotte to enjoy herself and return by the late train. The police were forced to ask themselves whether the writer’s mood was of any special significance or whether she had merely been determined to keep her problems to herself.

After the ten-minute walk from Sunningdale Station Charlotte had arrived back at Styles at eleven o’clock. She told the police that she had been confronted by the parlour-maid and cook who expressed concern at the unusual manner in which Agatha had left the house at 9.45 that night. After leaving Rosalind’s bedroom she had come downstairs, kissed and patted her dog Peter, placed him on the hall mat and then driven off without telling her staff where she was going.

It transpired that Agatha had left behind a letter addressed to Charlotte, which the servants gave to her as soon as she returned home. The letter asked the secretary to cancel rooms that had been booked for Agatha in Beverley for the weekend. Agatha implied that she was in great trouble and would contact Charlotte the next day to let her know her plans. The secretary admitted she had felt so uneasy about the letter that she had wanted to contact the police that night, because it included such sentences as ‘My head is bursting. I cannot stay in this house’, but she had not dared do so for fear of offending her employer. Early on Saturday morning, before news of the abandoned car had reached Styles, Charlotte had telephoned Ascot Post Office to arrange for a telegram to be sent to the boarding-house in Beverley: ‘Regret cannot come – Christie.’

Agatha’s disappearance led to increasing apprehension among her family and friends. They were apparently at a loss as to the missing woman’s whereabouts. The police took Charlotte and Archie to Newlands Corner on Saturday afternoon. A number of interested bystanders were already there, eager to find out what the police were doing. The secretary and the Colonel were shown the car but said they were unable to explain what had happened.

What appeared to have been a casual night drive had turned into something disturbing and inexplicable. As the police became aware of the disharmony between husband and wife they realized the importance of locating the writer in case her life was in jeopardy. Wilfrid Morton, one of the Surrey probationary police officers on the case, told me his instructions were: ‘Find Mrs Agatha Christie as quickly as you can.’

Deputy Chief Constable Kenward’s inquiries established that Agatha did not carry out her intention to travel north to the boarding-house in Beverley. Her last known journey on the day of the disappearance was to her mother-in-law’s home in Dorking for afternoon tea. It was revealed that Agatha had visited her wearing the knitted green outfit in which she had gone missing later that night. Peg told the police that the only plan Agatha had mentioned was to go to Beverley that weekend. The police investigation was complicated by the fact that it was impossible to tell whether Agatha had driven directly to Newlands Corner. It was not known how much petrol had been in the tank at the outset of the journey. Nearly two galleons remained, and the spare petrol can of two galleons had not been used. There was plenty of water in the radiator, and when the car was hauled up on the main road on the afternoon of Saturday the 4th the police had no difficulty in starting it. Although there were no signs of blood in or around the car it was kept overnight at the Guildford Garage on the Epsom Road.

One of the less disturbing theories considered by the authorities during the initial stages of the investigation was the possibility that on the Friday night Agatha had wandered away from the car after abandoning it and had got herself lost in the thick undergrowth. On Saturday afternoon, accompanied by seven or eight regular police officers and a number of special constables, Deputy Constable Kenward initiated a search of the surrounding area. The special constables were a group of registered men living throughout Surrey whose voluntary services were available to the county in the event of an emergency, and they were directly accountable to the Surrey Constabulary through their leader Captain Tuckwell and his deputy Colonel Bethall.

Deputy Chief Constable Kenward’s interest in the Silent Pool, a quarter of a mile away from Newlands Corner at the bottom of the hill on the left hand side of the A25 Dorking Road, captured the imagination of many, since it was rumoured that two people had already died there in tragic circumstances. According to legend, in medieval times a naked young woman had been spied bathing there and she had retreated to the deepest part of the pool to avoid the lascivious advances of King John. Her brother had drowned trying to save her, and their bodies had never been recovered. (Nowadays a car-park has been built by the side of the A25 near the shallow basin known as the Sherbourne Pond. This is sometimes mistaken for the Silent Pool, which is at the end of a long dirt lane and higher up on the incline, shielded by a thick belt of trees and overlooked by a bird-watching hut.)

As the news of Agatha’s absence spread, civilian volunteers were quick to offer their services to the police. A statement that Agatha had been seen driving through Shere, a village two miles from Newlands Corner, at four o’clock on Saturday morning by a cow-man moving a herd of cattle was subsequently disproved, since the informant stated after being questioned a second time that the car he had seen had a square radiator. Agatha’s Morris Cowley, like all the older models of this car, had a round radiator; the distinctive square radiators appeared for the first time in 1926.