Chapter 27 Chapter 27 Confession

Confessions It's five in the morning and I'm exhausted - but I get the job done.My arms are numb from writing for so long. This manuscript ends unexpectedly, and I had intended to publish it some day as an example of Poirot's failed case!Alas, what absurdity it turned out to be. Ever since I saw Ralph Paton and Mrs. Ferrars walking head to head together, I had a premonition of disaster.I thought at the time that she was confiding in him, but I later learned that guess was completely wrong.The idea was still in my mind that night in the study with Aykroyd until he told me the truth.

Poor old Ackroyd, I gave him a chance, and I've always been happy with it.I urged him to read the letter, if he had read it then before it was too late.To be honest - I don't know if I subconsciously think that a stubborn old man like him is better off not asking him to read that letter?He was very emotional that night, and it's interesting to analyze from a psychological point of view.He was aware of the imminent danger, yet he never suspected me. The sword was an afterthought, and I had already carried a light knife with me, but when I saw the sword in the silver cabinet, I immediately thought: It would be better to use a murder weapon that cannot be traced to me.

I have long planned to kill Aykroyd.When I first heard of Mrs. Ferrars' death, I thought she might have told him everything before she died.When I met him, he looked very annoyed, and I figured he might know the truth, but he didn't believe it, so he wanted to give me a chance to defend myself. I went home thinking I had to be on guard against Ackroyd.At any rate, if the trouble involved only Ralph, there would be no harm.He asked me to adjust this dictaphone for him two days ago, and some parts in it were faulty.He wanted to send it back, but I persuaded him to let me try it.I did what I wanted and I packed it in a bag and sent it to him that night.

I am very satisfied with what I have written.For example, the following paragraph could not be written more succinctly: "The letter arrived at 8:40. I left him at 8:50 and the letter was still unread. Still a little hesitant, looking back to see if there's anything else I forgot to do." That's all true, but what if I put a few ellipses after the first sentence?Does anyone doubt what I did in those ten minutes of blank time?I stood at the door and glanced at the room, feeling very satisfied that I had done everything I needed to do.The dictaphone was on the table by the window, timed at nine-thirty (the little mechanism was ingenious—it worked on the principle of an alarm clock).Armchairs were pulled out to block the view, so that it was impossible for anyone entering to see the tape recorder on the table.

I confess that my encounter with Parker at the door was a shock to me, which I have faithfully recorded. When the body was found, I sent Parker to call the police, and I chose my words carefully in the manuscript: "I did a little bit of what I had to do!" Go to the bag, then push the chair back to its original position against the wall.It never occurred to me that Parker would notice the chair.Logically, he should have been so shocked by the sight of the body that he would have paid no attention to anything else.But I ignore the psychology of the trained servant. I wish I had known beforehand that Flora would say she had seen her uncle alive at a quarter past nine.What she said just baffled me.In fact, there were many things that confuse me throughout the whole process, as if everyone was involved in the murder.

I've been most worried about Caroline, and I think she might figure it out.During the conversation that day she called me "evil by nature" in a very peculiar way. In any case, she will never know the truth.As Poirot said, there is only one way to go... I still have confidence in him, and he and Inspector Raglan will definitely get this done.I don't want Caroline to know about it.She liked me very much, and was very proud of me... My death would make her feel very sad, but after the grief... When I have finished the manuscript, I will put it in an envelope and send it to Poirot.

Next—what to do?Sleeping pills?It was a poetically just punishment, not because I was responsible for Mrs. Ferrer's death.This is her retribution for murdering her husband, and I have no sympathy for her. I don't pity myself either. Only let sleeping pills come to an end. If only Hercule Poirot hadn't retired here to grow pumpkins.