Agatha Christie and the Eleven Missing Days (20 page)

Shortly after he had performed his last public charade, nearly all pretence at family unity broke down, since Madge and Jimmy made it known that they thought that his disgraceful behaviour had been responsible for what had happened. Everyone at Abney Hall hoped that the press coverage on Friday the 17th would signal the end to an unfortunate drama that had dominated the front pages for nearly two weeks. Archie left Abney Hall early that morning to avoid further family recriminations.

Given that around 15,000 people went missing in Britain that year, why did Agatha’s disappearance cause such a sensation? It was not just the fact that she was a mystery writer involved in her own real-life mystery. The answer perhaps lies in the fact that it was an unfolding drama whose resolution was both elusive and anxiously sought.

Despite the issuing of the medical bulletin, further embarrassing disclosures appeared in the newspapers on Friday the 17th. Although revelations concerning the diamond ring that had been posted to the novelist at the hotel were not wholly accurate, it coloured the public’s perception of events. On the morning of Saturday the 4th Agatha had left the ring for repair at Harrods in London and had asked the store to send it on to her in the name of Mrs Teresa Neele at the Harrogate Hydro. The store had duly carried out these instructions, and Agatha had received it on Tuesday the 7th. Journalists were aware that the ring had been posted to Mrs Teresa Neele, but wrongly stated it had been lost while she was shopping in a department store on the Saturday. At any rate it was obvious to readers that Agatha had been shopping in the West End on the morning after her disappearance and had evidently had a clear plan of her future movements.

The disclosure reinforced the public’s perception of her as a shallow, publicity-seeking woman who had cleverly orchestrated her disappearance as a stunt for increasing book sales. The public’s belief that it had been a publicity stunt was reinforced over the next three months by the
Liverpool Weekly Post
’s and
Reynolds’s Illustrated News
’s continuing serializations of
The Murder of Roger Ackroyd
and
The Murder on the Links
. But publicity for her books had been the last thing on Agatha’s mind when she staged her disappearance; at the time she was bogged down half-way through
The Mystery of the Blue Train
and certainly not seeking the spotlight.

Vastly exaggerated estimates of the cost of the search appeared in the newspapers, ranging from £1,000 to £25,000. Letters from the public were published demanding to know whether Mrs Christie was prepared to reimburse the expenses incurred in the search. One indignant correspondent even suggested that no future book should be published under her name in order to discourage others from disappearing as a publicity stunt. Agatha was also criticized for diverting attention from those who genuinely went missing.

A number of cartoons appeared, some more hurtful than others. ‘Some People May Disappear for All We Care – And There Will Be No Search Parties,’ declared the
Sunday Express’s
cartoonist, depicting a rogues’ gallery of characters lining up to catch the ‘Disappearance Express’.
The Bulletin and Scots Pictorial
depicted ‘A Jacket for the Book All About It’, on which Agatha was caricatured, elegantly dressed, dancing in the arms of a shadowy male companion, while beneath their feet was pictured the Surrey Downs being extensively searched by police, volunteers, bloodhounds and aeroplanes. The title on the cover of the proposed book was ‘My Pretty Dance by Agatha Christie’.

Trevor Allen of the
Westminster Gazette
, recalling how enthusiastically the public had responded to the
Daily News’s
offer of a £100 reward for the discovery of the novelist, suggested that if no one famous went missing why not challenge the public to unmask someone paid to disappear? A series of individuals were employed by the
Westminster Gazette
to play the part of Mr Lobby Ludd whose photograph, together with a general timetable of his movements around the country, was published in advance and the first person to rush up with a copy of his newspaper picture and say ‘You are Mr Lobby Ludd, and I hereby claim my £10 pounds!’ was rewarded on the spot. Those who missed out could read news reports of the chases, many of which led the latest Mr Lobby Ludd to be mobbed. When the
Westminster Gazette
amalgamated in 1931 with the
Daily News
to become the
News Chronicle
, this popular tradition continued for many years.

Although the story began to die down after Friday the 17th, it did not mean the worst was over for Agatha and her family, whose lives had been splashed across newspapers throughout the country. Now they had to assess the damage and begin to rebuild their lives, and these tasks would not be made easier by reminders of the past.

Chapter Seventeen
A Trip to the Canaries

Shortly after Archie’s departure from Abney Hall the Surrey Constabulary took the unprecedented step of approaching him to reimburse the costs of the search. He was shocked at the amount.

The Surrey Standing Joint Committee met on Saturday 18 December, two days after its hastily issued statement to the press about the only expense being refreshments for the special constables. The committee now decided that the overall cost of the Surrey search was £25.

Archie refused to pay and, indeed, was not legally obliged to do so, yet the fact he was asked to foot the bill indicated that the Surrey police, like their Berkshire counterparts, were sceptical of the family’s claims that Agatha had lost her memory and this accounted for her disappearance.

Christmas provided a brief respite for the writer’s friends and relatives. Once reunited at Abney Hall with Agatha, a defiant Nan confronted her brother Jimmy and the rest of her family, whose anger towards her was mitigated by their relief that Agatha had been discovered alive. Nan had been every bit as horrified as her friend when the press had got hold of the story, and, despite the fact that they had both been taken unawares by the backlash, she and Agatha remained as loyal and devoted to each other as ever.

Family hostilities were temporarily suspended to allow Archie to bring Rosalind to Abney Hall on Wednesday 22 December to see her mother for the first time in three weeks. The poignant reunion with her seven-year-old reinforced in Agatha’s mind her pledge of five months earlier to keep the marriage going for a year, so that Archie could be sure he was not making a mistake in divorcing her and becoming separated from his daughter. Archie believed that Agatha was being vindictive in refusing to agree to an immediate divorce, but she felt it important to try to keep the family together for a full year, so she would later be able to tell Rosalind she had done everything she could to try to restore the marriage. Nor was Archie happy that Nancy’s parents had sent their daughter on a ten-month voyage around the world in the hope she would forget him.

After Christmas Archie returned to Styles to put it on the market, since neither Agatha nor he had any desire to live there again. The two bandsmen who had gone to the police each received – unbeknown to Agatha – a silver cigarette case from Archie with their initials engraved on the front and the inscription inside: ‘With our very best thanks, Col. and Mrs Christie’. Archie sent a pencil to each of the other bandsmen. Ironically, none of the band members believed in the amnesia theory; Bob Leeming privately opined that she had gone to Harrogate to ‘sort out a domestic problem’. Rosie Asher, the chambermaid, also had her doubts: ‘She seemed to be enjoying herself in a funny kind of way, not like someone who couldn’t remember who she was.’

Charlotte remained loyal to Agatha, despite the notoriety that had befallen her employer, and Nan considered the secretary ‘a pearl’. Other so-called friends and acquaintances did not remain so steadfast, and Agatha was to divide the people she knew into two categories: the ‘O.F.D.’ (Order of Faithful Dogs) and the ‘O.F.R.’ (Order of Faithless Rats).

Although the disappearance no longer occupied the front pages occasional references were made to it throughout the first half of 1927, which caused consternation and embarrassment for Agatha and those close to her. In one instance it was reported that a Willesden magistrate had told a deserted wife: ‘You must supply your husband’s address for service of summons. You are not Mrs Christie, and we cannot concentrate all police resources on your case.’ The Surrey police received enough unsolicited donations from the public towards the cost of the search to pay for the building of a house. In order to stem the flow of contributions the Surrey police were forced to issue a statement to the press stating they were returning all the money they had been sent.

Five weeks after the disappearance Agatha left the country for the Canary Islands, accompanied by Rosalind and Charlotte. After preparing for their trip at Ashfield the trio travelled by train to Southampton, where they spent the night of Saturday 22 January 1927 at the South Western Hotel. The following day they boarded the liner
Geiria
, which was on its way from Amsterdam to the United States.

In Agatha’s memoirs, which make no reference to the disappearance, she ambiguously states that ‘in February of the following year’ she took her secretary and daughter to the Canary Islands in order to finish her manuscript
The Mystery of the Blue Train
. This statement, immediately following Agatha’s brief, veiled remark regarding Archie’s request for a divorce – ‘I stood out for a year, hoping he would change’ – has led many commentators to assume, wrongly, that the trip took place in February 1928. This was almost certainly Agatha’s intention. But
The Mystery of the Blue Train
was serialized in
The Star
newspaper throughout February 1928 and published by Collins on 2 March that year.

An unpleasant incident occurred before their departure on the Sunday, when she was accosted by a
Daily Express
reporter. She had presumed that no one outside her circle of family and friends knew of her plans to visit the Canaries for a month and, after declining to say anything, she hurriedly joined her daughter and secretary on board the
Geiria.

The Big Four
was published four days after Agatha’s departure by Collins on 27 January 1927, thus negating her claim in her autobiography that the book was worked on throughout that year instead of the preceding one. The
Daily News
’s reviewer, looking for parallels with her recent disappearance, was quick to quote the Scotland Yard inspector in the book: ‘Either it’s Apache work, and that’s the end of it – or else it’s voluntary disappearances – and that’s a great deal the commoner of the two, I can tell you.’ Incredibly, reviewers failed to comment on the most intriguing aspect of the plot: Hercule Poirot heroically fakes his own death in order to save mankind from a global conspiracy. Agatha loathed
The Big Four
for the rest of her life because it reinforced the fact that while her fictional characters responded to her wishes the same was not true of real people. The novel reminded her of the unhappy period in which she had unwisely attempted to exact revenge on the husband who had betrayed her. She always referred to it as ‘that rotten book’.

The novelist and her two companions stayed first at La Orotava on the island of Tenerife, but they left after a week as the morning mists and fogs obscured much of the mountainous beauty and reminded Agatha too much of England and the events she was trying to put behind her. The Metropole Hotel in Las Palmas, on another island, Gran Canaria, which Agatha later used as the setting in the Miss Marple short story ‘The Companion’, was much more to her liking.

While in Las Palmas Agatha discovered that she was beset by the same worries and preoccupations that she had hoped to leave behind in England. She recognized that running away from her difficulties solved nothing. Nevertheless, Las Palmas was the perfect place to recharge her batteries in the warmth of the sun and to indulge in the therapeutic pleasures of swimming. By removing herself physically from the immediate shadows of her past she was able to view the present with greater clarity.

During the evenings Agatha and Charlotte befriended Dr Lucas and his sister Mrs Meek. He was a tuberculosis specialist from England and resident physician at the Mundesley Sanatorium in Norfolk. As a result of an illness in his youth he was hunchbacked and had a delicate constitution. A born healer, he often achieved better results with his patients than his partner, who was better qualified. When Agatha consulted Dr Lucas about her sore throat he sensed something more was the matter and asked if it was ‘husband trouble’. Agatha told him something of what had happened and found his kind response surprisingly cheering and invigorating. Archie would return to her if she gave him plenty of time, Dr Lucas assured her. The important thing was not to reproach him when he did. Agatha said she didn’t think Archie would come back, that he wasn’t the type. Dr Lucas, who was himself married to an Australian, told her that most men return to their wives, adding, ‘I’ve been away and come back.’ He urged her, whatever happened, to accept it and continue writing; she had plenty of strength and courage and he was confident she could still make a success of her life.

The willpower it took Agatha to complete
The Mystery of the Blue Train
resulted in her lifelong antipathy towards it, especially since Rosalind demanded constant attention. Agatha’s motive for denouncing it ‘as easily the worst book I ever wrote’ in her autobiography was deliberately to draw a veil over that period of her life preceding her divorce. Her disparagement of
The Big Four,
which is certainly not one of her best novels, and the much better
The Mystery of the Blue Train
was her attempt to distance herself and others from painful aspects of her past.

The ending of
The Mystery of the Blue Train
(dedicated ‘To the Two Distinguished Members of the O.F.D. Carlotta and Peter’; that is, Charlotte, her secretary, and her dog) makes clear Agatha’s determination to move on, despite her uncertainties over her future. A love-lorn American girl observes, ‘Trains are relentless things, aren’t they, Monsieur Poirot? People get murdered and die, but they go on all the same.’ Poirot sympathetically replies, ‘Trust the train, Mademoiselle, for it is
le bon Dieu
who drives it . . .’