Listen Full Story:
Read Full Story:
After the funeral of Richard Abernethie, his family gathered at the old house, Enderby Hall. Richard had been a wealthy and respected man, the head of the family, and his sudden death left everyone surprised though it was said to be natural. Around the long dining table sat his relatives — his sister Cora Lansquenet, his brother Timothy and his wife Maude, his nephew George, his niece Rosamund and her husband Michael, and his devoted sister-in-law Helen. The air was heavy with grief but also curiosity, as all knew Richard’s fortune was vast and his will would soon be read.
After the reading of the will, it turned out that Richard had divided his fortune equally among his relatives. Everyone appeared satisfied, though there was a quiet sense of disappointment — each one had secretly hoped for more. As they were about to leave, Cora, who was known for her odd and blunt manner, suddenly said something that froze the room. “It’s been hushed up very nicely, hasn’t it? But he was murdered, wasn’t he?” Her words fell like thunder. No one replied, but the uneasy silence that followed stayed in everyone’s mind long after they left Enderby Hall.
The next day, shocking news arrived. Cora Lansquenet was found dead in her small cottage, brutally attacked with a hatchet. The coincidence was too strange to ignore — she had hinted her brother was murdered, and now she herself was dead. The family began to whisper among themselves, wondering if Cora had stumbled upon something true. Had Richard really been murdered? Or was it just Cora’s imagination?
Helen Abernethie, Richard’s sister-in-law, felt deeply unsettled. She had noticed something odd during the funeral, though she couldn’t quite remember what. The whole matter seemed too mysterious to ignore. She decided to call in Hercule Poirot, the famous Belgian detective, to investigate the strange sequence of events. Poirot, always curious about human behavior, agreed to help. He believed that if Cora had spoken the truth, someone among the family had reason to silence her.
Poirot began by visiting Enderby Hall and meeting the family. He found them nervous and uneasy. Each had something to hide, and no one seemed entirely honest. Timothy Abernethie was a sickly man who rarely left his room, attended to by his stern wife Maude. George, a lawyer, was worried about money and reputation. Rosamund, beautiful and ambitious, was married to Michael Shane, a struggling actor with expensive tastes. There was also Susan Banks, another niece, practical and clever, who ran a beauty business with her husband Greg. Poirot sensed that greed and ambition flowed quietly through the family.
He also visited Cora’s cottage, where her companion, Miss Gilchrist, greeted him with trembling politeness. She was a plain, middle-aged woman who had worked for Cora for years, looking after her home and painting small pictures in her free time. She seemed frightened and still shaken by her employer’s death. Poirot noticed her fondness for talking, but behind her chatter, there was a nervous edge. He made note of every small detail in the room — the half-eaten slice of cake, the disordered table, the paintings on the wall. He knew that in such tiny things often lay the key to great secrets.
Poirot questioned everyone about Cora’s remark at the funeral. Most dismissed it as typical of her foolishness. They said she often made silly comments without thinking. But Helen was not so sure. She told Poirot that when Cora spoke those words, she had suddenly remembered something odd about Richard’s expression during his last days. Poirot listened carefully. He was certain that there was more behind Cora’s remark than mere imagination.
Poirot then turned his attention to Richard’s doctor. The doctor confirmed that Richard had been a healthy man for his age, though he had suffered from mild stomach troubles. There had been no reason to suspect foul play, yet Cora’s death made Poirot suspicious. He asked for permission to review Richard’s medical records and the cause of death certificate. The more he learned, the more he felt that Cora’s statement might not have been a random outburst.
Days passed, and Poirot continued his quiet inquiries. He began to notice strange patterns. Susan and Greg seemed desperate for money to expand their business. Michael Shane was frustrated by his wife’s inheritance being tied up in legal delays. George was nervous, fearing his professional reputation might be ruined if a scandal arose. Maude appeared calm, but Poirot saw a certain hardness in her eyes whenever money was mentioned. Each person could have wanted Richard dead, and Cora’s death had deepened the mystery.
Poirot also spent time talking again to Miss Gilchrist. She often spoke of how devoted she had been to Cora, how shocked she was by the murder, and how much she missed the security of her old life. Poirot watched her closely and noticed how she liked to reminisce about better days when she had once owned a small tea shop before it failed. She mentioned that she still dreamed of having it back one day. Poirot smiled gently, but in his mind, he filed away this detail as very important.
Poirot’s next move was to reconstruct the day of Cora’s murder. Miss Gilchrist had been away briefly, attending a local sale, when someone supposedly entered and killed Cora. But there were inconsistencies in her story. Poirot found it strange that she could describe so precisely what had happened when she wasn’t there. There were also peculiar signs — a missing piece of cake, a hatchet left in an odd place, and a painting that seemed slightly altered. Poirot realized that small clues were pointing toward something far more cunning than anyone suspected.
Later, Poirot arranged a small gathering at Enderby Hall. He told the family that he was close to solving both deaths. The relatives sat in tense silence, waiting for him to speak. Poirot explained that Richard’s death had been natural, but Cora’s death had not. The motive behind it, he said, was tied to a secret within the house. He then began to speak of Miss Gilchrist — how she had lost her tea shop, how she longed to regain it, and how she had been living in poverty until she found a chance for comfort by working for Cora.
Poirot revealed that after Richard’s funeral, Miss Gilchrist realized that if Cora had died, she would inherit a small amount of money from her employer’s estate. That was not enough, but Miss Gilchrist had another plan. She had killed Cora herself and then tried to make it look like a burglary gone wrong. But to hide her guilt, she had created an elaborate trick. She had painted a fake picture and switched it with a valuable one that belonged to Cora, hoping to sell it later. She had also used her artistic skills to forge letters and confuse the timeline.
The reason she mentioned Richard being murdered, Poirot explained, was to draw attention away from herself. But she had underestimated her own nervousness. Poirot had noticed her slip-ups — her confused descriptions of the murder scene, her constant talk of the painting, and her attempt to stage sympathy. Most telling of all was a detail only she could know: the piece of cake. Miss Gilchrist had poisoned that cake before, intending it for Cora, but ended up eating some herself, which caused her to fall ill, revealing her own plan.
When Poirot finally confronted her, Miss Gilchrist broke down. She confessed that she had indeed killed Cora in desperation. Her dream of reopening her tea shop had driven her mad with greed and loneliness. She cried that she had never meant to harm anyone else, that she only wanted a little happiness again. Poirot, though compassionate, handed her over to the authorities. Justice, he said quietly, had to be done.
As the family learned the truth, they felt both relief and sadness. They realized that Cora’s careless remark at the funeral had not been the cause of her death but rather the spark that revealed a hidden heart full of despair and envy. Richard’s death had been peaceful, but the greed surrounding his fortune had almost destroyed everyone he left behind. Poirot, before leaving Enderby Hall, told Helen that truth, once buried, always finds its way to the surface — sometimes through the most unexpected words.
In the end, life at Enderby Hall slowly returned to normal. The relatives tried to forget the horror of what had happened. The inheritance was settled, and they went their separate ways. Helen often thought of Cora and of Miss Gilchrist, two lonely women whose lives had crossed at the wrong time. Poirot returned quietly to London, his mind calm as ever. He knew that behind every polite face, there were shadows, and behind every funeral, there might still linger the echo of a secret — waiting, one day, to be uncovered.