Alfred Hitchcock’s A Hangman’s Dozen

Most Agreeably Poisoned Fletcher Flora

Here we have an attempt to solve a marital problem somewhat differently, by means of poison — as sophisticated and swift a solution, incidentally, as any that has been put forward up to this time. Of course, a question arises: Who shall take the poison? The interesting thing is it doesn’t much matter — just as long as somebody does.

“Darling,” Sherry said, “I’m so glad you’re behaving like a civilized being.”

“Oh, I’m a great believer in civilized beings,” I said. “In my opinion, they are essential to civilization.”

“Nevertheless,” she said, “it is absolutely exceptional of you to suggest that the three of us get together and talk things out quietly and courteously. Not,” she added, “that it will change anything in the end.”

“What do you mean, not that it will change anything?”

“I mean that I am quite determined to leave you, of course. Surely you understand that.”

“I understand that it’s your intention, but I am hoping to change your mind.”

“Well, it’s only fair to give you a chance, which I am willing to do, but I assure you that it’s impossible. I am in love with Dennis and am going to marry him, and that’s all there is to it. I’m truly sorry, darling, but it’s necessary to my happiness.”

“This means, I take it, that you are consequently no longer in love with me. Is that true?”

“Not at all. Please don’t be absurd. I love you very much, as you very well know, but in a less exciting way. I am madly and deliriously and irresistibly in love with Dennis.”

“Once you were madly and deliriously and irresistibly in love with me. At least you said you were.”

“So I was, but now the way I am in love with you is unfortunately changed. It’s sad, isn’t it, the way things change?”

I looked at her with a great aching in my heart, for however sadly and unfortunately her way of loving me had changed, my way of loving her had not changed at all. So bright and fair and incredibly lovely, I also saw that she was wearing a soft white gown that achieved a perfect balance of exposure and suggestion.

“Will you have a martini?” I said.

“When Dennis gets here, we will have one together. It will make everyone feel relaxed and comfortable, don’t you think? Martinis are quite good for that.”

“I thought we might just have one beforehand. We can have another later, of course.”

“Well, I’m not averse to that, but there’s the doorbell now, if I’m not mistaken, and it’s surely Dennis.”

She was right about its being the doorbell. She was almost certainly right, too, about its being Dennis. I was compelled to accept this reluctantly.

“You had better let him in,” I said.

She went out into the hall and opened the front door, and it was Dennis outside. He came into the hall, and Sherry put her arms around his neck and kissed him. It was nothing new for her to kiss various men, but this kiss was different and plainly special. It was ardent, to say the least, and it lasted for quite a long time. From my position in the living room, I could see it clearly, but I quit looking at it before it was finished, and started mixing martinis, and I was still mixing the martinis when Sherry and Dennis came in.

“Well, you two,” Sherry said, “here we are.”

“That’s true,” I said. “We’re here, all right.”

“This is Dennis, Sherm,” Sherry said. “Dennis, this is Sherm.”

“Glad to meet you, Sherm,” Dennis said.

He was not as tall as I, nor quite so heavy, but I had to admit that he looked like he was probably in better condition. He had short blond hair and a face like the guy who plays juvenile leads until he’s thirty, and he apparently felt that he was playing the lead in this particular turkey. Which he was, even though I didn’t like to admit it. I put down the shaker of martinis and shook his hand.

“His name is actually Sherman,” Sherry said, “but I call him Sherm.”

“Sometimes we got real intimate,” I said.

“This is exceedingly decent of you, Sherm,” Dennis said.

“Civilized,” I said. “I’m being civilized, which makes everything much more comfortable for everyone. Will you have a martini?”

“Thanks. I don’t mind if I do.”

I poured the martinis, and they sat on the sofa and held hands. When I served the martinis, he took his in his left hand, and she took hers in her right hand, and this made it possible for her left hand and his right hand to go on holding each other. As for me, I was in a position to hold my martini in either hand or both, as the notion struck me.

“I suppose,” I said, “that we might as well get it over with.”

“Sorry, Sherm,” Dennis said, “but I suppose we had.” He looked at me with a man-to-man expression.

“Well,” I said, “as I understand it, you want something of mine, and I naturally want to keep what I have, and this poses a problem.”

“Problem?” he said. “I don’t see that there’s any particular problem.”

“Neither do I,” Sherry said. “No problem at all. You and I will simply get divorced, Sherm, and you and I will simply get married, Dennis, and that’s all there is to it.”

“As I see it,” Dennis said, “that’s all.”

“As I see it,” I said, “not quite. I’m willing to be civilized and congenial, which is one thing, but I’m not willing to surrender supinely, which is another. I must insist on a fair chance in this affair, but at the same time I want to be agreeable, which is evident, and so I have thought of a way in which everything can be settled amicably. Would you like to hear it?”

“I don’t think so,” Dennis said. “I don’t think I care to hear it at all.”

“Oh, let’s hear it, Dennis,” Sherry said. “It can’t do any harm to hear it.”

“All right,” Dennis said. “I suppose it’s only fair.”

“Good,” I said. “You two just continue to sit here and hold hands for a minute, and I’ll be right back.”

Crossing the room to a liquor cabinet, I got three small bottles filled with red port and returned. I lined the bottles up on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

“Whatever are they?” Sherry said.

“Little bottles of port wine,” I said. “I prepared them myself earlier today.”

“It seems perfectly ridiculous to me. Whatever for?”

“Well, they are part of my plan to settle our problem amicably. One of these bottles is slightly different from the other two, you see. Two of them are filled with plain port, as I said, but the other one contains also enough poison to curl your toes in a minute. It’s my plan that one of us shall drink the poisoned port and curl his toes and cease forthwith to be a problem to the other two.”

“Sherm,” Sherry said, “you’ve always had a perverted sense of humor, and it’s obviously time you were told about it.”

“It’s a reasonable chance for everyone to get everything or nothing,” I said. “It’s civilized, that’s what it is. Besides being civilized, it’s sophisticated. It’s quite appropriate and acceptable for three civilized sophisticates like us.”

“Now that you’ve explained it,” Sherry said, “I believe you’re right. It’s certainly about as civilized and sophisticated as it could possibly be.”

For the first time since sitting down, she disengaged her held hand and put her chin in it. Before putting her chin in the hand, she put her elbow on her knee. She sat staring at the little bottles of port, plainly intrigued by the prospect of two amicable men risking having their toes curled on the alternate chance of possessing her if the port didn’t happen to be spiked.

“Look here,” Dennis said. “There are three bottles there. Do you seriously expect Sherry to participate in this fantastic business?”

“It’s necessary,” I said, “in order to give all alternatives a chance. If I get the poisoned port, you get Sherry. If you get the poisoned port, I get Sherry. If she gets the poisoned port, neither of us gets her. This thing must be done properly and thoroughly, if at all, and I’m sure Sherry will agree.”

“I do agree,” Sherry said. “It’s only fair that I participate.”

“I absolutely forbid it,” Dennis said.

“Don’t be presumptuous, darling,” Sherry said. “You are hardly in a position to forbid anything.”

“You’ll have to concede that, Dennis,” I said. “None of us is presently qualified to dictate to either of the others. The most you can do is to decline to participate yourself.”

Sherry turned her head and looked at Dennis with wide eyes. It was apparent that such a reluctance on the part of Dennis had not seriously occurred to her before.

“Yes, Dennis,” she said, “if you don’t feel like taking a simple chance for my sake, you are certainly under no compulsion.”

“It’s not merely the chance,” Dennis said. “Think of the complications. Suppose we all take a bottle and gulp it down. One of us gets the poison and dies. You can surely see that the other two would be all mucked up with the police over it.”

“That’s true,” I said. “I’ve anticipated that, and have thought of a way to avoid it. We do not drink the port here. Each of us takes a bottle when we separate. Each drinks the port when he is alone, and the two survivors meet tomorrow afternoon at, say, three o’clock in the cocktail lounge of the Café Picardy. This, to my way of thinking, besides solving the problem of the police, introduces an appealing element of romance, to say nothing of suspense. Who will be the two? Who will meet at the Picardy tomorrow?”

Dennis looked at me bitterly. “I hope to hell it isn’t you and I,” he said bitterly.

“Does that mean you agree to do it?”

“I suppose so. I can see that Sherry is all for it.”

“I am,” Sherry said. “I surely am. Sherm, this last part is absolute genius. Although I was inclined at one time to exaggerate your virtues, I see now that in certain respects I didn’t give you the credit you deserved. In this matter, I can think of only one thing you neglected to do which is rather disappointing.”

“Yes? What’s that?”

“You should have used sherry instead of port.”

“Oh. Sherry for Sherry. I did miss a nice touch there, didn’t I? I’m afraid, however, that it’s too late now to change.”

“Yes. Disappointing as it is, we’ll have to go along with port.”

“Wait a minute,” Dennis said. “Do you know which bottle has the poison?”

“No,” I said. “The bottles are identical, and I messed them around with my eyes closed. At any rate, you and Sherry may choose the bottles you want, and I’ll take the one that’s left. Is that acceptable?”

“It’s perfectly acceptable,” Sherry said, “and I don’t think it was quite nice of you, Dennis, to imply that Sherm might cheat in an affair of honor of this sort. I suggest now that we all have another martini and be compatible.”

We had the martinis compatibly, and afterward I went downtown to a hotel and took a room. In the room, after putting on a pair of pajamas I was willing to be caught dead in, I drank the port and lay down on the bed.

I was sitting at the bar drinking an ambrosia highball when Sherry came in. It was not the cocktail lounge of the Café Picardy by any means, but it was a pleasant place, and there was a talented and pretty girl who sat on a little dais and played pretty tunes on a concert harp. Sherry was certainly astonished to see me, and apparently uncertain whether to be happy or otherwise. Anyhow, she sat on a stool beside me.

“What on earth are you doing here?” she said.

“Hello, Sherry,” I said. “It’s odd that you should use that expression.”

“What expression?”

“On earth.”

“Oh.” She stared at me and frowned and tapped on the bar rapidly with the nail of the index finger of her right hand, which was a sign that she was angry. “Well, never mind being evasive with me, for I understand everything dearly now. Sherm, you so and so, you put poison in two of those little bottles, and then you contrived somehow to have them chosen by you and me, and it was nothing but a damn dirty trick to get me permanently away from Dennis. There is simply no limit to your duplicity.”

“You do me an injustice to accuse me of playing a dirty trick like that,” I said. “It’s true that things were not quite as I said, but I certainly didn’t discriminate against anyone. We all had exactly the same chance.”

“Explain yourself, if you don’t mind.”

“The truth is, I put poison in all three of the bottles.”

“In that case, where’s Dennis?”

“Yes, indeed,” I said “Where is he?”

“I haven’t seen him around anywhere.”

“Neither have I. Nor will we. Not for a long time.”

“You mean he reneged? That after agreeing to participate, he didn’t drink his port at all?”

“That’s it.”

She kept on staring at me, but her index finger kept tapping slower and slower until it shortly stopped altogether, and I thought I could see in her eyes certain signs that we might be entering a heavenly era of madness, delirium, and irresistibility.

“Well,” she said, “I can see that I called the wrong man an old so and so.”

“That’s all right,” I said. “Would you care for an ambrosia highball?”

“I think I would,” she said. “I need it.”