And Then There Were None Week5

It was so sudden and unexpected that it took everyone’s breath away. They remained stupidly staring at the crumpled figure on the ground. Anthony Marston was dead. He died of asphyxiation right enough. But healthy young men didn’t die like that, choking over a whisky and soda…? Dr. Armstrong was peering into the dead man’s face. He sniffed at the blue twisted lips. Then he picked up the glass from which Anthony Marston had been drinking. He dipped a finger into the dregs and very cautiously just touched the finger with the tip of his tongue. There was something in the whisky. It was the cyanides that act pretty well instantaneously.

“Ten little soldier boys went out to dine;
One choked his little self and then there were Nine.”

The death of Anthony Marston was like this old nursery rhyme that was framed on the fireplace in each rooms. It was horrible, just like them this evening.

Next day, Dr. Armstrong was woken up by someone who was leaning over him. It was Rogers with a white face, and he said “Doctor, doctor!” Dr. Armstrong woke up completely. He said “What is it?” Rogers said “It’s my wife, doctor, I can’t get her to wake, and she doesn’t look right to me!” He lifted cold hand, raised the eyelid. He passed a tongue over dry lips. “She was gone.” And he asked Rogers, “Did she take things to make her sleep?” Rogers stared at him surprisingly. “Take things? I’m sure she didn’t. She didn’t have nothings last night, sir, except what you gave her.”

And Then There Were None Week4

Rogers went round with the coffee tray after dinner. The hands of the clock pointed to twenty minutes past nine. There was a silence, into that silence same the voice. Without warning, inhuman, penetrating…

“Ladies and gentleman! Silence Please!"

Everyone was startled. They looked round each other, at the walls. Who was speaking?

“You are charged with the following indictments: Edward George Armstrong, that you did upon the 14^th day of March, 1925, cause the death of Louisa Mary Clees. Emily Caroline Brent, that upon the 5^th of November, 1931, you were responsible for the death of Beatrice Taylor. William Henry Blore, that you brought about the death of James Stephen Londor on October 10^th, 1928......" and ten people’s name and guilt was spoken one after another.

“Prisoners at the bar, have you anything to say in your defence?”

The voice had stopped. They were in a panic, and some of them looked like anxious. Who was that speaking? Who was it? It wasn’t one of us, but it sounded as though it were in the room. Rogers, a servant said “I didn’t know what it was, I was to put a record on the gramophone, I thought it was just a piece of music, I was just obeying Mr. Owen’s orders, that’s all.” Actually, the record was entitled “Swan Song”.

Mrs. Owen who invited them had the initial, UNO, and they found out that UNO was Ulick Norman Owen…no…Una Nancy Owen…no…it was UNKNOWN! In fact, they were cheated by Unknown host. They decided to leave there, but there’s no boat on the island. Only one person disagreed with the majority, Anthony Marston. He said “A bit unsporting, ought to ferret out the mystery before we go, whole thing’s like a detective story, positively thrilling.” He picked up his drink and drank it off at a gulp, too quickly, perhaps. He choked badly. His face contorted, turned purple. He gasped for breath, then slid down off his chair, the glass falling from his hand.

And Then There Were None Week3

There were ten people who were invited to Soldier Island by Una Nancy Owen. They gathered together at Oakbridge station and went to Soldier Island by boat. Then, they reached there. However, they were so tired because of long journey and seasickness. As they ascended the steps and came out on a terrace above, their spirits revived. In the open doorway of the house a correct butler was awaiting them, and something about his gravity reassured them. And then the house itself was really most attractive, the view from the terrace magnificent.

A butler said that Mr. Owen-unfortunately delayed-unable to get here till tomorrow. Instructions-everything they wanted-if they would like to go to their rooms? Dinner would be at eight o’clock.

Vera followed Mrs. Rogers upstairs. It was a perfect room decorated throughout in the modern style. She stood in front of the fireplace and found a poem. It was the old nursery rhyme that she remembered from her childhood days.

At the dining room, in the center of the round table, there were some little china figures. They were ten soldiers of the nursery rhyme. And everybody had the rhyme was framed and hung up over the mantelpiece in their room.

Ten little soldier boys went out to dine;
One choked his little self and then there were Nine.

Nine little soldier boys sat up very late;
One overslept himself and then there were Eight.

Eight little soldier boys travelling in Devon;
One said he’d stay there and then there were Seven.

Seven little soldier boys chopping up sticks;
One chopped himself in halves and then there were Six.

Six little soldier boys playing with a hive.
A bumble bee stung one and then there were Five.

Five little soldier boys going in for law;
One got in Chancery and then there were Four.

 

Four little soldier boys going out to sea;

A red herring swallowed one and then there were Three.

 

Three little soldier boys walking in the Zoo;

A big bear hugged one and then there were Two.

 

Two little soldier boys sitting in the sun;

One got frizzled up and then there were One.

 

One little soldier boys left all alone;

He went and hanged himself and then there were None.