Agatha Christie

“ There aren't many people in the world who feel as you do."
"Well," I said impatiently, "what do you think of it all, Mrs. Blair?"
"I think it's the most thrilling thing I ever heard! Now, to begin with, you will stop calling me Mrs. Blair. Suzanne will be ever so much better. Is that agreed?"
"I should love it, Suzanne."
"Good girl. Now let's get down to business. You say that in Sir Eustace's secretary—not that long-faced Pagett, the other one—you recognized the man who was stabbed and came into your cabin for shelter?" ”

“ The woman was murdered in his house, and it's his secretary who gets stabbed at the mystic hour of one o'clock. I don't suspect Sir Eustace himself, but it can't be all coincidence. There's a connection somewhere even if he himself is unaware of it."
"Then there's the queer business of the stewardess," she continued thoughtfully. "What was she like?"
"I hardly noticed her. I was so excited and strung up—and a stewardess seemed such an anticlimax. But—yes—I did think her face was familiar. Of course it would be if I'd seen her about the ship."
"Her face seemed familiar to you," said Suzanne. ”

“ Nadina is just the woman to be mixed up in this business. The appointment on the morning of the 22nd was with her in this cabin. But where is she? Why didn't she sail?"
A light flashed upon me.
"She meant to sail," I said slowly.
"Then why didn't she?"
"Because she was dead. Suzanne, Nadina was the woman murdered at Marlow!"
My mind went back to the bare room in the empty house, and there swept over me again that indefinable sensation of menace and evil. With it came the memory of the falling pencil and the discovery of the roll of films. A roll of films—that struck a more recent note. ”