27:02

Agatha Christie - And Then There Were None - Chapter 12

by Chandler Gray

Rated
4.9
Type
talks
Activity
Meditation
Suitable for
Everyone
Plays
521

Please join me while I read Chapter 12 of "And Then There Were None" by Agatha Christie. This is a 22-minute story, accompanied by an additional 5 minutes of ambient music. This story is read to help you relax and is read in a calm tone. The story: “And Then There Were None” is a classic mystery novel by Agatha Christie that explores guilt, justice, and the human psyche. Ten strangers are lured to a remote island under pretenses, only to discover they are being accused of crimes from their past. One by one, they begin to die by a chilling nursery rhyme, as the survivors try to unmask the killer among them. Taut, psychological, and suspenseful, this novel is a masterful study in tension and moral reckoning.

AudiobookRelaxationBedtime StoryMysteryClassic LiteratureCalming MusicAudiobook MeditationMurder Mystery

Transcript

Welcome to Restful Journeys.

In this track I will continue reading,

And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie.

This will be chapter 12.

Please find a comfortable place to sit or lie down and relax.

Take a few moments to clear your mind and allow yourself to listen to these words and help you become calm.

Let's continue with chapter 12.

1.

The meal was over.

Mr.

Justice Wargrave cleared his throat.

He said in a small authoritative voice,

It would be advisable,

I think,

If we met to discuss the situation,

Shall we say,

In half an hour's time in the drawing room?

Everyone made a sound suggestive of agreement.

Vera began to pile plates together.

She said,

I'll clear away and wash up.

Philip Lombard said,

We'll bring the stuff out to the pantry for you.

Thanks.

Emily Brent,

Rising to her feet,

Sat down again.

She said,

Oh dear.

The judge said,

Anything the matter,

Miss Brent?

Emily said apologetically,

I'm sorry,

I'd like to help Miss Claythorne,

But I don't know how it is.

I feel just a little giddy.

Giddy,

Eh?

Dr.

Armstrong came towards her.

Quite natural,

Delayed shock.

I can give you something,

Too.

No.

The word burst from her lips like an exploding shell.

It took everyone aback.

Dr.

Armstrong flushed a deep red.

There was no mistaking the fear and suspicion in her face.

He said stiffly,

Just as you please,

Miss Brent.

She said,

I don't wish to take anything,

Anything at all.

I will just sit here quietly till the giddiness passes off.

They finished clearing away the breakfast things.

Bloor said,

I'm a domestic sort of man.

I'll give you a hand,

Miss Claythorne.

Vera said,

Thank you.

Emily Brent was left alone sitting in the dining room.

For a while,

She heard a faint murmur of voices from the pantry.

The giddiness was passing.

She felt drowsy now,

As though she could easily go to sleep.

There was a buzzing in her ears,

Or was it a real buzzing in the room?

She thought,

It's like a bee,

A bumblebee.

Presently,

She saw the bee.

It was crawling up the windowpane.

Vera Claythorne had talked about bees this morning.

Bees and honey.

She liked honey.

Honey in the comb,

And strain it yourself through a muslin bag.

Drip,

Drip,

Drip.

There was somebody in the room.

Somebody all wet and dripping.

Beatrice Taylor come from the river.

She had only to turn her head and she would see,

But she couldn't turn her head.

If she were to call out,

But she couldn't call out.

There was no one else in the house.

She was all alone.

She heard footsteps,

Soft dragging footsteps coming up behind her.

The stumbling footsteps of the drowned girl.

There was a wet,

Dank smell in her nostrils.

On the windowpane,

The bee was buzzing,

Buzzing.

And she felt the prick,

The bee sting on the side of her neck.

Two In the drawing room,

They were waiting for Emily Brent.

Vera Claythorne said,

Shall I go and fetch her?

Bloor said quickly.

Just a minute.

Vera sat down again.

Everyone looked inquiringly at Bloor.

He said,

Look here,

Everybody.

My opinion's this.

We needn't look farther for the author of these deaths than the dining room at this minute.

I take my oath that woman's the one we're after.

Armstrong said,

And the motive?

Religious mania.

What do you say,

Doctor?

Armstrong said,

It's perfectly possible.

I've nothing to say against it.

But of course we've no proof.

Vera said,

She was very odd in the kitchen when we were getting breakfast.

Her eyes.

She shivered.

Lombard said,

You can't judge her by that.

We're all a bit off our heads by now.

Bloor said,

There's another thing.

She's the only one who wouldn't give an explanation after the gramophone record.

Why?

Because she hadn't any to give.

Vera stirred in her chair.

She said,

That's not quite true.

She told me.

Afterwards.

Wargrave said,

What did she tell you,

Ms.

Claythorne?

Vera repeated the story of Beatrice Taylor.

Mr.

Justice Wargrave observed,

A perfectly straightforward story.

I personally should have no difficulty in accepting it.

Tell me,

Ms.

Claythorne.

Did she appear to be troubled by a sense of guilt or a feeling of remorse for her attitude in the matter?

None whatever,

Said Vera.

She was completely unmoved.

Bloor said,

Heart's as hard as flints,

These righteous spinsters.

Envy,

Mostly.

Mr.

Justice Wargrave said,

It is now five minutes to eleven.

I think we should summon Miss Brent to join our conclave.

Bloor said,

Aren't you going to take any action?

The judge said,

I failed to see what action we can take.

Our suspicions are,

At the moment,

Only suspicions.

I will,

However,

Ask Dr.

Armstrong to observe Miss Brent's demeanor very carefully.

Let us now go into the dining room.

They found Emily Brent sitting in the chair in which they had left her.

From behind,

They saw nothing amiss,

Except that she did not seem to hear their entrance into the room.

And then they saw her face,

Suffused with blood,

With blue lips and starting eyes.

Bloor said,

My God,

She's dead.

Three The small,

Quiet voice of Mr.

Justice Wargrave said,

One more of us acquitted,

Too late.

Armstrong was bent over the dead woman.

He sniffed the lips,

Shook his head,

Peered into the eyelids.

Lombard said impatiently,

How did she die,

Doctor?

She was all right when we left her here.

Armstrong's attention was riveted on a mark on the side of her neck.

He said,

That's the mark of a hypodermic syringe.

There was a buzzing sound from the window.

Vera cried,

Look,

A bee,

A bumblebee.

Remember what I said this morning?

Armstrong said grimly,

It wasn't that bee that stung her.

A human hand held the syringe.

The judge asked,

Was poison injected?

Armstrong answered,

At a guess,

One of the cyanides,

Probably potassium cyanide,

Same as Anthony Marston.

She must have died almost immediately by asphyxiation.

Vera cried,

But that bee,

It can't be a coincidence.

Lombard said grimly,

Oh no,

It isn't a coincidence.

It's our murderer's touch of local color.

He's a playful beast,

Likes to stick to his damnable nursery jingle as closely as possible.

For the first time his voice was uneven,

Almost shrill.

It was as though even his nerves,

Seasoned by a long career of hazards and dangerous undertakings,

Had given out at last.

He said violently,

It's mad,

Absolutely mad.

We're all mad.

The judge said calmly,

We may still,

I hope,

Our reasoning powers.

Did anyone bring a hypodermic syringe to this house?

Dr.

Armstrong straightened himself,

Said in a voice that was not too well assured,

Yes,

I did.

Four pairs of eyes fastened on him.

He braced himself against the deep hostile suspicion of those eyes.

He said,

Always travel with one,

Most doctors do.

Mr.

Justice Wargrave said calmly,

Quite so.

Will you tell us,

Doctor,

Where that syringe is now?

In the suitcase in my room.

Wargrave said,

We might,

Perhaps,

Verify that fact.

The five of them went upstairs,

A silent procession.

The contents of the suitcase were turned out on the floor.

The hypodermic syringe was not there.

Four Armstrong said violently,

Somebody must have taken it.

There was silence in the room.

Armstrong stood with his back to the window.

Four pairs of eyes were on him,

Black with suspicion and accusation.

He looked from Wargrave to Vera and repeated helplessly,

Weakly,

I tell you,

Someone must have taken it.

Blore was looking at Lombard,

Who returned his gaze.

The judge said,

There are five of us in this room.

One of us is a murderer.

The position is fraught with grave danger.

Everything must be done in order to safeguard the four of us who are innocent.

I will ask you now,

Dr.

Armstrong,

What drugs have you in your possession?

Armstrong replied,

I have a small medicine case here.

You can examine it.

You will find some sleeping stuff,

Trionyl and sulfonyl tablets,

A pack of bromide,

Bicarbonate of sodium,

Aspirin,

Nothing else.

I have no cyanide in my possession.

The judge said,

I have,

Myself,

Some sleeping tablets,

Sulfonyl.

I think they are.

I presume they would be lethal if a sufficiently large dose were given.

You,

Mr.

Lombard,

Have in your possession a revolver.

Philip Lombard said sharply,

What if I have only this?

I propose that the doctor's supply of drugs,

My own sulfonyl tablets,

Your revolver,

And anything else of nature of drugs or firearms should be collected together and placed in a safe place.

That after this is done,

We should each of us submit to a search,

Both of our persons and of our effects.

Lombard said,

I'll be damned if I give up my revolver.

Wargrave said sharply,

Mr.

Lombard,

You are a very strongly built and powerful young man,

But Ex-Inspector Bloor is also a man of powerful physique.

I do not know what the outcome of a struggle between you would be,

But I can tell you this.

On Bloor's side,

Assisting him to the best of our ability will be myself,

Dr.

Armstrong,

And Miss Claythorne.

You will appreciate,

Therefore,

That the odds against you,

If you choose to resist,

Will be somewhat heavy.

Lombard threw his head back.

His teeth showed in what was almost a snarl.

Oh,

Very well then,

Since you've all got it taped out.

Mr.

Justice Wargrave nodded his head.

You are a sensible young man.

Where is this revolver of yours?

In the drawer of the table of my bed.

Good.

I'll fetch it.

I think it would be desirable if we went with you,

Philip said with a smile that was still near a snarl.

Suspicious devil,

Aren't you?

They went along the corridor to Lombard's room.

Philip strode across to the bed table and jerked open the drawer.

Then he recoiled with an oath.

The drawer of the bed table was empty.

Five.

Satisfied?

Asked Lombard.

He had stripped to the skin,

And he and his room had been meticulously searched by the other three men.

Miss Claythorne was outside in the corridor.

The search proceeded methodically.

In turn,

Armstrong,

The judge,

And Bloor submitted to the same test.

The four men emerged from Bloor's room and approached Vera.

It was the judge who spoke.

I hope you understand,

Miss Claythorne,

That we can make no exceptions.

That revolver must be found.

You have,

I presume,

A bathing dress with you?

Vera nodded.

Then I will ask you to go into your room and put it on and then come out to us here.

Vera went into her room and shut the door.

She reappeared in under a minute,

Dressed in a tight-fitting silk-rugged bathing dress.

Wargrave nodded approval.

Thank you,

Miss Claythorne.

Now if you will remain here,

We will search your room.

Vera waited patiently in the corridor until they emerged.

Then she went in,

Dressed,

And came out to where they were waiting.

The judge said,

We are now assured of one thing.

There are no lethal weapons or drugs in the possession of any of us five.

That is one point to be good.

We will now place the drugs in a safe place.

There is,

I think,

A silver chest,

Is there not,

In the pantry?

Bloor said.

That's all very well,

But who's to have the key?

You,

I suppose?

Mr.

Justice Wargrave made no reply.

He went down to the pantry and the others followed.

There was a small case there designed for the purpose of holding silver plates.

By the judge's directions,

The various drugs were placed in this,

And it was locked.

Then,

Still on Wargrave's instructions,

The chest was lifted into the plate cupboard,

And this,

In turn,

Was locked.

The judge then gave the key of the chest to Philip Lombard,

And the key to the cupboard to Bloor.

He said,

You two are the strongest physically.

It would be difficult for either of you to get the key from the other.

It would be impossible for any of us three to do so.

To break open the cupboard or the plate chest would be a noisy and cumbersome proceeding,

And one which could hardly be carried out without any attention being attracted to what was going on.

He paused,

Then went on.

We are still faced by one very grave problem.

What has become of Mr.

Lombard's revolver?

Bloor said,

Seems to me its owner is the most likely person to know that.

A white dent showed in Philip Lombard's nostrils.

He said,

Wargrave asked,

When did you see it last?

Last night.

It was in the drawer when I went to bed,

Ready in case anything happened.

The judge nodded.

He said,

Vera said,

Mr.

Justice Wargrave's finger was stroking his chin.

He said,

Bloor said forcefully,

He opened the front door and led the way round the house.

A little distance away from the dining room window he found the syringe.

Beside it was a smashed china figure.

A sixth broken soldier boy.

Bloor said in a satisfied voice,

Only place it could be.

After he'd killed her he opened the window and threw out the syringe and picked up the china figure from the table and followed on with that.

There were no prints on the syringe.

It had been carefully wiped.

Vera said in a determined voice,

Now let us look for the revolver.

Mr.

Justice Wargrave said,

Let us be careful to keep together.

Remember,

If we separate,

The murderer gets his chance.

They searched the house carefully from attic to cellars,

But without result.

The revolver was still missing.

Thank you for listening.

I hope you have enjoyed this story.

Become relaxed and possibly fallen asleep.

Meet your Teacher

Chandler GrayNorth Carolina, USA

More from Chandler Gray

Loading...

Related Meditations

Loading...

Related Teachers

Loading...
© 2026 Chandler Gray. All rights reserved. All copyright in this work remains with the original creator. No part of this material may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

How can we help?

Sleep better
Reduce stress or anxiety
Meditation
Spirituality
Something else