And Then There Were None

Yuzhe Tao

“Let us move Armstrong’s corpse up to his bedroom,” said Lombard.

He and Vera attempted to remove the body from between the two huge boulders.

As the two of them worked side by side, Vera noticed the revolver half way revealed,

hanging in Lombard’s coat pocket. Suddenly, the young woman grew nervous. She

reached out for the revolver but hesitated and decided against it. Vera simply could

not claim a life, at least…not another…

Lombard asked in a weary voice, “Lift his legs up for me, would you?”

This broke Vera’s train of thought and she instantly obeyed. After a tedious

amount of work, the two of them finally managed to retrieve the doctor’s body.

They carried the corpse to the front door of the dreadfully dark mansion and they

entered, slowly maneuvering towards the staircase.

The lights were off and their hearts began beating quicker. Lombard knew that

the homicidal maniac could strike him down at any given moment. He desperately

wanted to drop the revolting body and draw out his revolver, but he knew that would

destroy the trust between him and Vera. Lombard thought to himself, I must remain

calm and hope for the best.

“Easy now,” said Lombard as his heel touched the first step of the stairs. They

both began to slowly and quietly climb the stairs. Soon, the two survivors reached the

second floor and began moving towards Armstrong’s room. They could make out a

few shapes in the darkness, for the pale moonlight shone through the window at the
end of the hallway.

First, they passed Marston’s room, and then the Rogers’. Next was General

Macarthur’s, followed by Miss Brent’s. Lombard was first to walk pass old

Wargrave’s room, and Miss Claythorne trailed behind him. The feet of Armstrong

were still in her hands.

Suddenly, she noticed a thin line of light showing at the bottom of the bedroom

door of Justice Wargrave. It was clear that the light did not belong to that of the

moon’s.

Vera shouted, “Wait!”

They carefully placed the corpse on the ground, and Lombard leaned lightly on

the door. He slowly pressed his right ear upon the door and listened for any

movement. At first the sound was faint, but slowly, he began to hear a quill scribbling

on parchment. How could this be possible? Wargrave is dead, Armstrong confirmed it

himself, thought Lombard, perhaps this is the killer we’ve been searching for!

He backed away and withdrew his revolver. Vera displayed a look of fear on her

face and took a step or two backwards. Lombard himself backed up, leaving space

between him and the bedroom door. Swiftly and silently, the strong man charged at

the door and kicked it down, his revolver ready to fire.

“We’ve got you, you son of a hamster!”

In the end, Lombard and Vera read the judge’s message in the bottle, and within

the next few days, the inspectors had arrived at Indian Island. The maniacal old man

was convicted and sentenced to prison. Vera Claythorne and Philip Lombard became

the only survivors to tell of the tragic story of The Ten Little Indians.