01/05/2020
The Strange Case Of Agatha Christie Finally Has An Explanation
By Leah Pfenning
Sherlock Holmes said, "where there is no imagination there is no horror." Unfortunately, even when uttered by proxy, such truths don't bode well for the literary savant, Agatha Christie. Being the most widely published author of all time right behind the Bible and Shakespeare, by her mid-thirties the prolific mystery novelist was without a doubt a rising legend. Until one night when the dame of mysteries became one herself.
On the evening of December 4th, 1926, Agatha Christie got in her car and sped off into the night. Like a scene right out of one of her famous whodunits, the novelist disappeared without a trace. Neither her husband nor any of her maids had any idea of her fate. In fact, for nearly two weeks, there wasn't a soul who had a clue where Christie was — and people are still asking questions.
At 36-years-old Agatha Christie had already made a huge name for herself. But living large in the literary world was a far cry from her rather humble life in Sunningdale, a quiet suburb about an hour's train ride out of London.
Here Christie lived with her husband, Col. Archibald Christie, and their young daughter. From the outside, everything seemed perfectly normal in the Christie household. But of course, on one cold December night, that all changed.
December 4th, 1926, officially marked day one of the Agatha Christie mystery. Her disappearance paraded the headlines all across the world. The most famous mystery writer mysteriously vanishes? It was irresistible.
Search teams were immediately deployed to look for the leading novelist. However, it wasn't until December 6th, two whole days after Christie drove off into the darkness, that police found their first clue.
Nearly 30 minutes from her home in a town called Guildford, authorities found a car on the edge of a quarry. Literally. With its front two wheels over a steep cliff, Christie's Morris Cowley hung just the way she liked it — precariously in suspense.
The whole abandoned car scene looked worrisome, to say the least. But days later on December 8th, a new lead suddenly came forward that stopped the investigation right in its tracks.
Apparently, Christie's brother-in-law received a letter from her stating that she was on her way to a spa for a little rest and relaxation. An alibi directly from the source should be enough to close the case, right? Not quite.
Police weren't so convinced. Leaving for a spa in the middle of the night and only notifying your brother-in-law through a letter? Something smelled fishy.
And perhaps that scent is exactly what lured police to Silent Pool. According to local legend, the small lake was rumored to be bottomless and the optimal sight for an abrupt end. But cops had cause to suspect su***de.
Papers began publishing statements Christie purportedly made to friends bemoaning her circumstances in Sunningdale. "If I do not leave Sunningdale soon, Sunningdale will be the end of me."
December 11th marked one week since anyone saw Christie. Police were so stumped they even dragged the novelist's dog into the investigation to try to pick up her scent. It is reported he only "whined pitifully."
But just as things were looking cold, a new development surfaced from another "silent pool" — her husband. Apparently, her brother-in-law wasn't the only one to receive a letter from Christie after her disappearance.
In fact, Christie penned three letters in total. One to her brother-in-law, another to her secretary proving to be almost entirely scheduling hum-de-dums, and a mysterious third to her husband. The only problem was, he refused to show the letter to the police.
This suspicious behavior would lead most people to doubt Mr. Christie's clean hands in the case, but apparently, it wasn't enough for the estimated 15 thousand people involved in the investigation. By December 12th, everyone was getting desperate.
Police, convinced that she was still in the countryside, began hiring amateur sleuths, not to mention, “six trained bloodhounds, a crate load of Airedale terriers, many retrievers and Alsatian police dogs, and even the services of common mongrels.”
Rumors that this whole thing was an elaborate publicity stunt broke out. Friends of Christie were outraged. It took her loyal secretary to quash this hogwash by reminding the world that Agatha Christie was too much a lady to stoop so low.
The case was certainly a page-turner! Detectives, perhaps too faithful to Christie's writing, even started to look to her unfinished manuscript, The Blue Train, for clues.
At some point, a theory arose that she likely fled to London where she was dressed as a man. There was also supposedly a sealed note left behind that should only be opened if and when they found her body.
A séance was held at the quarry where the Morris Cowley was discovered. Mediums reported that their mystic session led them to believe that Christie met with some foul play. Unfortunately, no further insight was divined.
As the two-week mark closed in, the investigation was looking drier than a British beefeater. Detectives began to suspect that Christie had no plan of returning home. What else did they have to go by? She was simply gone.
Yet, on December 15th, Christie's body was suddenly discovered. Prostrate, pampered and exfoliated, Agatha Christie was lying quite comfortably at a Yorkshire spa, exactly as she had said she would be.
Why, then, was she so hard to locate? Well, it turns out Christie had checked in under the false name Mrs. Tressa Neele. When her husband was questioned about this, he simply said she had lost her mind.
If Christie's mind was at all lost, it was nowhere too far from home, as it was revealed that Mrs. Tressa Neele was the name of her husband's mistress. However, fearing ill repute, Archibald Christie still dutifully went to fetch his wife at the spa.
Hundreds showed up to watch Archibald as he was "welcomed by her with a stony stare." The world loved Agatha Christie's mysteries, and this real-life drama riddled with shame, betrayal, and defiance was far too good to turn away from.
Fifteen months after Christie made her spectacularly spectated return home from the spa, she sued her husband for divorce. It was poetic justice if ever there were any...even if two years later Archibald went on to marry the infamous Tressa Neele.
In all her years since, Christie never really commented on those mysterious two weeks. In her autobiography, she simply summed up the whole of her marriage by saying, "there's no need to dwell on it."
