𝑨 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘 𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒂𝒔𝒕

🗝𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚅 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙸: 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚕𝚞𝚎, 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸𝚝 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝙴𝚗𝚍🗝

NARRATOR'S POV:

As morning's light filtered into the room, Charlotte stirred in her bed, greeted by the sight of Madame Bouc, still asleep but marked by the trails of tears that had fallen the night before. Gently rising, Charlotte donned her nightgown and quietly left her room, making her way to the scene of last night's disturbance. The shattered window and scattered glass fragments painted a vivid picture of the turmoil that had unfolded.

Her eyes fell upon the weapon left behind, a formidable butcher's knife, a sinister clue hinting at its origin. The implications settled heavily in Charlotte's mind — the intruder might have ties to the local butcher shop. Leaving the room, she made her way to the closest telephone, dialing the familiar numbers that connected her to Monsieur Poirot.

In his private library, Poirot was engrossed in the morning's newspaper, his fingers tracing lines of text as his phone rang. Answering it, he listened intently as Charlotte's voice, laden with emotion, relayed the events of the previous night. With a sense of urgency, she implored him to come swiftly to the Bouc mansion. Poirot wasted no time, promptly hailing a taxi and arriving at the mansion's doorstep, where an anxious Marie awaited.

Guided inside, Poirot entered the living room, where Madame Bouc sat in a worn armchair, weariness etched upon her features. Charlotte stood nearby, offering a glass of water to Madame Bouc, whose trembling hands reached out to accept it.

Madame Bouc took the glass offered by Charlotte and raised it to her trembling lips, her hands quivering as she took a sip of water. Marie, the maid, who stood nearby, promptly informed Poirot of his arrival. Charlotte, turning to Marie, requested that she allow Monsieur Poirot to enter, and with a nod from the maid, Poirot stepped into the room.

As he entered, Poirot was met with a somber tableau. Madame Bouc sat, her composure shattered by the events of the previous night, clutching the glass with hands still shaking. Beside her stood Charlotte, her countenance marked by fatigue and sorrow.

Hercule Poirot: "Madame Bouc, Katherine," Poirot began gently, drawing nearer. "I came as swiftly as Mademoiselle called for me. What transpired here?" His voice carried a note of concern, and Charlotte sought solace in his comforting embrace, her tears flowing onto his shoulder.

Charlotte: "Oh, Monsieur Poirot, what transpired was utterly dreadful, truly dreadful," she began, her voice trembling as she recounted the harrowing events of the previous night. "After bidding you farewell, I returned inside the mansion. Marie informed me that dinner was ready and that Madame Bouc awaited me in the dining room. I joined Madame at the table, and we partook in our pea soup while discussing the unsettling occurrences of late. Once our meal concluded, Madame retired to her room, and I to mine. Yet, mere minutes later, a cry of agony pierced the air, emanating from Madame's chamber. I rushed to her side, finding her on the floor, her countenance gripped by terror, as though she had glimpsed a specter. But it was no specter at all."

Charlotte: she continued, her words painting a vivid picture of the eerie scene. "Upon closer examination, I observed that the window to the balcony had been shattered, and shards of glass littered the floor. I attempted to approach the window, but Madame Bouc implored me not to draw near, her voice filled with dread. She beseeched me to help her rise from the floor, and I did just that. After assisting her, I inquired about the cause of her distress. She recounted that she had entered her bathroom, and while inside, heard an unsettling noise emanating from the bedroom window. Investigating the source, she discovered that a stone had been hurled through the window, and the assailant had entered with a knife in hand. It was at this juncture that Madame Bouc screamed, seemingly unsettling the intruder, who promptly fled through the window, vanishing into the shroud of night," Charlotte concluded her narrative, her voice quivering as she recalled the haunting scene of Madame Bouc on the floor, trembling and terrified.