Appointment With Death_ A Hercule Poirot

AppointmentwithDeath
ToRichardandMyraMallocktoremindthemoftheirjourneytoPetra
Contents
PartI
Chapter1Chapter2Chapter3Chapter4Chapter5Chapter6Chapter7Chapter8Chapter9Chapter10Chapter11Chapter12
PartII
Chapter1Chapter2Chapter3Chapter4Chapter5Chapter6Chapter7Chapter8Chapter9Chapter10Chapter11Chapter12Chapter13Chapter14Chapter15Chapter16Chapter17Chapter18
Epilogue
E-bookExtras
AboutAgathaChristie
TheAgathaChristieCollection
Copyright
AboutthePublisher
PartIChapter1
‘Youdosee,don’tyou,thatshe’sgottobekilled?’
Thequestionfloatedoutintothestillnightair,seemedtohangthereamomentandthendriftawaydownintothedarknesstowardstheDeadSea.
HerculePoirotpausedaminutewithhishandonthewindowcatch.Frowning,heshutitdecisively,therebyexcludinganyinjuriousnightair!HerculePoirothadbeenbroughtuptobelievethatalloutsideairwasbestleftoutside,andthatnightairwasespeciallydangeroustothehealth.
Ashepulledthecurtainsneatlyoverthewindowandwalkedtohisbed,hesmiledtolerantlytohimself.
‘Youdosee,don’tyou,thatshe’sgottobekilled?’
CuriouswordsforoneHerculePoirot,detective,tooverhearonhisfirstnightinJerusalem.
‘Decidedly,whereverIgo,thereissomethingtoremindmeofcrime!’hemurmuredtohimself.
HissmilecontinuedasherememberedastoryhehadonceheardconcerningAnthonyTrollopethenovelist.TrollopewascrossingtheAtlanticatthetimeandhadoverheardtwofellowpassengersdiscussingthelastpublishedinstallmentofoneofhisnovels.
‘Verygood,’onemanhaddeclared.‘Butheoughttokilloffthattiresomeoldwoman.’
Withabroadsmilethenovelisthadaddressedthem:
‘Gentlemen,Iammuchobligedtoyou!Iwillgoandkillherimmediately!’
HerculePoirotwonderedwhathadoccasionedthewordshehadjustoverheard.Acollaboration,perhaps,overaplayorabook.
Hethought,stillsmiling:‘Thosewordsmightberemembered,oneday,andgivenamoresinistermeaning.’
Therehadbeen,henowrecollected,acuriousnervousintensityinthevoice—atremorthatspokeofsomeintenseemotionalstrain.Aman’svoice—oraboy’s…
HerculePoirotthoughttohimselfasheturnedoutthelightbyhisbed:‘Ishouldknowthatvoiceagain…’
II
Theirelbowsonthewindow-sill,theirheadsclosetogether,RaymondandCarolBoyntongazedoutintothebluedepthsofthenight.Nervously,Raymondrepeatedhisformerwords:‘Youdosee,don’tyou,thatshe’sgottobekilled?’
CarolBoyntonstirredslightly.Shesaid,hervoicedeepandhoarse:‘It’shorrible…’
‘It’snotmorehorriblethanthis!’
‘Isupposenot…’
Raymondsaidviolently:‘Itcan’tgoonlikethis—itcan’t…Wemustdosomething…Andthereisn’tanythingelsewecando…’
Carolsaid—buthervoicewasunconvincingandsheknewit:‘Ifwecouldgetawaysomehow—?’
‘Wecan’t.’Hisvoicewasemptyandhopeless.‘Carol,youknowwecan’t…’
Thegirlshivered.‘Iknow,Ray—Iknow.’
Hegaveasuddenshort,bitterlaugh.
‘Peoplewouldsaywewerecrazy—nottobeablejusttowalkout—’
Carolsaidslowly:‘Perhapswe—arecrazy!’
‘Idaresay.Yes,Idaresayweare.Anyway,wesoonshallbe…Isupposesomepeoplewouldsaywearealready—herewearecalmlyplanning,incoldblood,tokillourownmother!’
Carolsaidsharply:‘Sheisn’tourownmother!’
‘No,that’strue.’
TherewasapauseandthenRaymondsaid,hisvoicenowquietlymatter-of-fact:‘Youdoagree,Carol?’
Carolansweredsteadily:‘Ithinksheoughttodie—yes…’
Thenshebrokeoutsuddenly:‘She’smad…I’mquitesureshe’smad…She—shecouldn’ttortureuslikeshedoesifsheweresane.Foryearswe’vebeensaying:“Thiscan’tgoon!”andithasgoneon!We’vesaid,“She’lldiesometime”—butshehasn’tdied!Idon’tthinksheeverwilldieunless—’
Raymondsaidsteadily:‘Unlesswekillher…’
‘Yes.’
Sheclenchedherhandsonthewindow-sillinfrontofher.
Herbrotherwentoninacool,matter-of-facttone,withjustaslighttremordenotinghisdeepunderlyingexcitement
‘Youseewhyit’sgottobeoneofus,don’tyou?WithLennox,there’sNadinetoconsider.Andwecouldn’tbringJinnyintoit.’
Carolshivered.
‘PoorJinny…I’msoafraid…’
‘Iknow.It’sgettingprettybad,isn’tit?That’swhysomething’sgottobedonequickly—beforeshegoesrightovertheedge.’
Carolstoodupsuddenly,pushingbackthetumbledchestnuthairfromherforehead.
‘Ray,’shesaid,‘youdon’tthinkit’sreallywrong,doyou?’
Heansweredinthatsamewould-bedispassionatetone.‘No.Ithinkit’sjustlikekillingamaddog—somethingthat’sdoingharmintheworldandmustbestopped.Thisistheonlywayofstoppingit.’
Carolmurmured:‘Butthey’d—they’dsendustothechairjustthesame…Imeanwecouldn’texplainwhatshe’slike…Itwouldsoundfantastic…Inaway,youknow,it’sallinourownminds!’
Raymondsaid:‘Nobodywilleverknow.I’vegotaplan.I’vethoughtitallout.Weshallbequitesafe.’
Carolturnedsuddenlyroundonhim.
‘Ray—somehoworanother—you’redifferent.Something’shappenedtoyou…What’sputallthisintoyourhead?’
‘Whyshouldyouthinkanything’shappenedtome?’
Heturnedhisheadaway,staringoutintothenight.
‘Becauseithas…Ray,wasitthatgirlonthetrain?’
‘No,ofcoursenot—whyshoulditbe?Oh,Carol,don’ttalknonsense.Let’sgetbackagainto—to—’
‘Toyourplan?Areyousureit’sa—goodplan?’
‘Yes.Ithinkso…Wemustwaitfortherightopportunity,ofcourse.Andthen—ifitgoesallright—weshallbefree—allofus.’
‘Free?’Carolgavealittlesigh.Shelookedupatthestars.Thensuddenlysheshookfromheadtofootinasuddenstormofweeping.
‘Carol,what’sthematter?’
Shesobbedoutbrokenly:‘It’ssolovely—thenightandthebluenessandthestars.Ifonlywecouldbepartofitall…Ifonlywecouldbelikeotherpeopleinsteadofbeingasweare—allqueerandwarpedandwrong.’
‘Butweshallbe—allright—whenshe’sdead!’
‘Areyousure?Isn’tittoolate?Shan’twealwaysbequeeranddifferent?’
‘No,no,no.’
‘Iwonder—’
‘Carol,ifyou’drathernot—’
Shepushedhiscomfortingarmaside.
‘No,I’mwithyou—definitelyI’mwithyou!Becauseoftheothers—especiallyJinny.WemustsaveJinny!’
Raymondpausedamoment.‘Then—we’llgoonwithit?’
‘Yes!’
‘Good.I’lltellyoumyplan…’
Hebenthisheadtohers.
Chapter2
MissSarahKing,M.B.,stoodbythetableinthewriting-roomoftheSolomonHotelinJerusalem,idlyturningoverthepapersandmagazines.Afrowncontractedherbrowsandshelookedpreoccupied.
Thetallmiddle-agedFrenchmanwhoenteredtheroomfromthehallwatchedherforamomentortwobeforestrollinguptotheoppositesideofthetable.Whentheireyesmet,Sarahmadealittlegestureofsmilingrecognition.SherememberedthatthismanhadcometohelpherwhentravellingfromCairoandhadcarriedoneofhersuitcasesatamomentwhennoporterappearedtobeavailable.
‘YoulikeJerusalem,yes?’askedDrGerardaftertheyhadexchangedgreetings.
‘It’sratherterribleinsomeways,’saidSarah,andadded:‘Religionisveryodd!’
TheFrenchmanlookedamused.
‘Iknowwhatyoumean.’HisEnglishwasverynearlyperfect.‘Everyimaginablesectsquabblingandfighting!’
‘Andtheawfulthingsthey’vebuilt,too!’saidSarah.
‘Yes,indeed.’
Sarahsighed.
‘TheyturnedmeoutofoneplacetodaybecauseIhadonasleevelessdress,’shesaidruefully.‘ApparentlytheAlmightydoesn’tlikemyarmsinspiteofhavingmadethem.’
DrGerardlaughed.Thenhesaid:‘Iwasabouttoordersomecoffee.Youwilljoinme,Miss—?’
‘King,mynameis.SarahKing.’
‘Andmine—permitme.’Hewhippedoutacard.Takingit,Sarah’seyeswidenedindelightedawe.
‘DrTheodoreGerard?Oh!Iamexcitedtomeetyou.I’vereadallyourworks,ofcourse.Yourviewsonschizophreniaarefrightfullyinteresting.’
‘Ofcourse?’Gerard’seyebrowsroseinquisitively.
Sarahexplainedratherdiffidently.
‘Yousee—I’mbywayofbeingadoctormyself.JustgotmyM.B.’
‘Ah!Isee.’
DrGerardorderedcoffeeandtheysatdowninacornerofthelounge.TheFrenchmanwaslessinterestedinSarah’smedicalachievementsthanintheblackhairthatrippledbackfromherforeheadandthebeautifullyshapedredmouth.Hewasamusedattheobviousawewithwhichsheregardedhim
‘Youarestayingherelong?’heaskedconversationally.
‘Afewdays.Thatisall.ThenIwanttogotoPetra.’
‘Aha!I,too,wasthinkingofgoingthereifitdoesnottaketoolong.Yousee,IhavetobebackinParisonthefourteenth.’
‘Ittakesaboutaweek,Ibelieve.Twodaystogo,twodaysthereandtwodaysbackagain.’
‘Imustgotothetravelbureauinthemorningandseewhatcanbearranged.’
Apartyofpeopleenteredtheloungeandsatdown.Sarahwatchedthemwithsomeinterest.Sheloweredhervoice.
‘Thosepeoplewhohavejustcomein,didyounoticethemonthetraintheothernight?TheyleftCairothesametimeaswedid.’
DrGerardscrewedinaneyeglassanddirectedhisglanceacrosstheroom.‘Americans?’
Sarahnodded.
‘Yes.AnAmericanfamily.But—ratheranunusualone,Ithink.’
‘Unusual?Howunusual?’
‘Well,lookatthem.Especiallyattheoldwoman.’
DrGerardcomplied.Hiskeenprofessionalglanceflittedswiftlyfromfacetoface.
Henoticedfirstatallratherloose-bonedman—ageaboutthirty.Thefacewaspleasantbutweakandhismannerseemedoddlyapathetic.Thenthereweretwogood-lookingyoungsters—theboyhadalmostaGreekhead.‘Somethingthematterwithhim,too,’thoughtDrGerard.‘Yes—adefinitestateofnervoustension.’Thegirlwasclearlyhissister,astrongresemblance,andshealsowasinanexcitablecondition.Therewasanothergirlyoungerstill—withgolden-redhairthatstoodoutlikeahalo;herhandswereveryrestless,theyweretearingandpullingatthehandkerchiefinherlap.Yetanotherwoman,young,calm,dark-hairedwithacreamypallor,aplacidfacenotunlikeaLuiniMadonna.Nothingjumpyabouther!Andthecentreofthegroup—‘Heavens!’thoughtDrGerard,withaFrenchman’scandidrepulsion.‘Whatahorrorofawoman!’Old,swollen,bloated,sittingthereimmovableinthemidstofthem—adistortedoldBuddha—agrossspiderinthecentreofaweb!
ToSarahhesaid:‘LaMaman,sheisnotbeautiful,eh?’Andheshruggedhisshoulders.
‘There’ssomethingrather—sinisterabouther,don’tyouthink?’askedSarah.
DrGerardscrutinizedheragain.Thistimehiseyewasprofessional,notaesthetic.
‘Dropsy—cardiac—’headdedaglibmedicalphrase.
‘Oh,yes,that!’Sarahdismissedthemedicalside.
‘Butthereissomethingoddintheirattitudetoher,don’tyouthink?’
‘Whoarethey,doyouknow?’
‘TheirnameisBoynton.Mother,marriedson,hiswife,oneyoungersonandtwoyoungerdaughters.’
DrGerardmurmured:‘LafamilleBoyntonseestheworld.’
‘Yes,butthere’ssomethingoddaboutthewaythey’reseeingit.Theyneverspeaktoanyoneelse.Andnoneofthemcandoanythingunlesstheoldwomansaysso!’
‘Sheisofthematriarchaltype,’saidGerardthoughtfully.
‘She’sacompletetyrant,Ithink,’saidSarah.
DrGerardshruggedhisshouldersandremarkedthattheAmericanwomanruledtheearth—thatwaswellknown.
‘Yes,butit’smorethanjustthat.’Sarahwaspersistent.‘She’s—oh,she’sgotthemallsocowed—sopositivelyunderherthumb—thatit’s—it’sindecent!’
‘Tohavetoomuchpowerisbadforwomen,’Gerardagreedwithsuddengravity.Heshookhishead.
‘Itisdifficultforawomannottoabusepower.’
HeshotaquicksidewaysglanceatSarah.ShewaswatchingtheBoyntonfamily—orrathershewaswatchingoneparticularmemberofit.DrGerardsmiledaquickcomprehendingGallicsmile.Ah!Soitwaslikethat,wasit?
Hemurmuredtentatively:‘Youhavespokenwiththem—yes?’
‘Yes—atleastwithoneofthem.’
‘Theyoungman—theyoungerson?’
‘Yes.OnthetraincomingherefromKantara.Hewasstandinginthecorridor.Ispoketohim.’
Therewasnoself-consciousnessinherattitudetolife.Shewasinterestedinhumanityandwasofafriendlythoughimpatientdisposition.
‘Whatmadeyouspeaktohim?’askedGerard.
Sarahshruggedhershoulders.
‘Whynot?Ioftenspeaktopeopletravelling.I’minterestedinpeople—inwhattheydoandthinkandfeel.’
‘Youputthemunderthemicroscope,thatistosay.’
‘Isupposeyoumightcallitthat,’thegirladmitted.
‘Andwhatwereyourimpressionsinthiscase?’
‘Well,’shehesitated,‘itwasratherodd…Tobeginwith,theboyflushedrightuptotherootsofhishair.’
‘Isthatsoremarkable?’askedGerarddrily.
Sarahlaughed.
‘YoumeanthathethoughtIwasashamelesshussymakingadvancestohim?Oh,no,Idon’tthinkhethoughtthat.Mencanalwaystell,can’tthey?’
Shegavehimafrankquestioningglance.DrGerardnoddedhishead.
‘Igottheimpression,’saidSarah,speakingslowlyandfrowningalittle,‘thathewas—howshallIputit?—bothexcitedandappalled.Excitedoutofallproportion—andquiteabsurdlyapprehensiveatthesametime.Nowthat’sodd,isn’tit?BecauseI’vealwaysfoundAmericansunusuallyself-possessed.AnAmericanboyoftwenty,say,hasinfinitelymoreknowledgeoftheworldandfarmoresavoir-fairethananEnglishboyofthesameage.Andthisboymustbeovertwenty.’
‘Abouttwenty-threeorfour,Ishouldsay.’
‘Asmuchasthat?’
‘Ishouldthinkso.’
‘Yes…perhapsyou’reright…Only,somehow,heseemsveryyoung…’
‘Maladjustmentmentally.The“child”factorpersists.’
‘ThenIamright?Imean,thereissomethingnotquitenormalabouthim?’
DrGerardshruggedhisshoulders,smilingalittleatherearnestness.
‘Mydearyounglady,areanyofusquitenormal?ButIgrantyouthatthereisprobablyaneurosisofsomekind.’
‘Connectedwiththathorribleoldwoman,I’msure.’
‘Youseemtodislikeherverymuch,’saidGerard,lookingathercuriously.
‘Ido.She’sgota—oh,amalevolenteye!’
Gerardmurmured:‘Sohavemanymotherswhentheirsonsareattractedtofascinatingyoungladies!’
Sarahshruggedanimpatientshoulder.Frenchmenwereallalike,shethought,obsessedbysex!Though,ofcourse,asaconscientiouspsychologistsheherselfwasboundtoadmitthattherewasalwaysanunderlyingbasisofsextomostphenomena.Sarah’sthoughtsranalongafamiliarpsychologicaltrack.
Shecameoutofhermeditationswithastart.RaymondBoyntonwascrossingtheroomtothecentretable.Heselectedamagazine.Ashepassedherchaironhisreturnjourneyshelookedathimandspoke.
‘Haveyoubeenbusysightseeingtoday?’
Sheselectedherwordsatrandom,herrealinterestwastoseehowtheywouldbereceived.
Raymondhalfstopped,flushed,shiedlikeanervoushorseandhiseyeswentapprehensivelytothecentreofhisfamilygroup.Hemuttered:‘Oh—oh,yes—why,yes,certainly.I—’
Then,assuddenlyasthoughhehadreceivedtheprickofaspur,hehurriedbacktohisfamily,holdingoutthemagazine.
ThegrotesqueBuddha-likefigureheldoutafathandforit,butasshetookithereyes,DrGerardnoticed,wereontheboy’sface.Shegaveagrunt,certainlynoaudiblethanks.Thepositionofherheadshiftedveryslightly.ThedoctorsawthatshewasnowlookinghardatSarah.Herfacewasquiteimpassive,ithadnoexpressioninit.Impossibletotellwhatwaspassinginthewoman’smind.
Sarahlookedatherwatchandutteredanexclamation.
‘It’smuchlaterthanIthought.’Shegotup.‘Thankyousomuch,DrGerard,forstandingmecoffee.Imustwritesomelettersnow.’
Heroseandtookherhand.
‘Weshallmeetagain,Ihope,’hesaid.
‘Oh,yes!PerhapsyouwillcometoPetra?’
‘Ishallcertainlytrytodoso.’
Sarahsmiledathimandturnedaway.HerwayoutoftheroomledherpasttheBoyntonfamily.
DrGerard,watching,sawMrsBoynton’sgazeshifttoherson’sface.Hesawtheboy’seyesmeethers.AsSarahpassed,RaymondBoyntonhalfturnedhishead—nottowardsher,butawayfromher…Itwasaslow,unwillingmotionandconveyedtheideathatoldMrsBoyntonhadpulledaninvisiblestring.
SarahKingnoticedtheavoidance,andwasyoungenoughandhumanenoughtobeannoyedbyit.Theyhadhadsuchafriendlytalktogetherintheswayingcorridorofthewagons-lits.TheyhadcomparednotesonEgypt,hadlaughedattheridiculouslanguageofthedonkeyboysandstreettouts.Sarahhaddescribedhowacamelmanwhenhehadstartedhopefullyandimpudently,‘YouEnglishladyorAmerican?’hadreceivedtheanswer:‘No,Chinese.’Andherpleasureinseeingtheman’scompletebewildermentashestaredather.Theboyhadbeen,shethought,likeaniceeagerschoolboy—therehadbeen,perhaps,somethingalmostpatheticabouthiseagerness.Andnow,fornoreasonatall,hewasshy,boorish—positivelyrude.
‘Ishan’ttakeanymoretroublewithhim,’saidSarahindignantly.
ForSarah,withoutbeingundulyconceited,hadafairlygoodopinionofherself.Sheknewherselftobedefinitelyattractivetotheoppositesex,andshewasnotonetotakeasnubbinglyingdown!
Shehadbeen,perhaps,ashadeover-friendlytothisboybecause,forsomeobscurereason,shehadfeltsorryforhim
Butnow,itwasapparent,hewasmerelyarude,stuck-up,boorishyoungAmerican!
Insteadofwritingthelettersshehadmentioned,SarahKingsatdowninfrontofherdressing-table,combedthehairbackfromherforehead,lookedintoapairoftroubledhazeleyesintheglass,andtookstockofhersituationinlife.
Shehadjustpassedthroughadifficultemotionalcrisis.Amonthagoshehadbrokenoffherengagementtoayoungdoctorsomefouryearshersenior.Theyhadbeenverymuchattractedtoeachother,buthadbeentoomuchalikeintemperament.Disagreementsandquarrelshadbeenofcommonoccurrence.Sarahwasoftooimperiousatemperamentherselftobrookacalmassertionofautocracy.Likemanyhigh-spiritedwomen,Sarahbelievedherselftoadmirestrength.Shehadalwaystoldherselfthatshewantedtobemastered.Whenshemetamancapableofmasteringhershefoundthatshedidnotlikeitatall!Tobreakoffherengagementhadcostheragooddealofheart-burning,butshewasclear-sightedenoughtorealizethatmeremutualattractionwasnotasufficientbasisonwhichtobuildalifetimeofhappiness.Shehadtreatedherselfdeliberatelytoaninterestingholidayabroadinordertohelponforgetfulnessbeforeshewentbacktostartworkinginearnest.
Sarah’sthoughtscamebackfromthepasttothepresent.
‘Iwonder,’shethought,‘ifDrGerardwillletmetalktohimabouthiswork.He’sdonesuchmarvelouswork.Ifonlyhe’lltakemeseriously…Perhaps—ifhecomestoPetra—’
ThenshethoughtagainofthestrangeboorishyoungAmerican.
Shehadnodoubtthatitwasthepresenceofhisfamilywhichhadcausedhimtoreactinsuchapeculiarmanner,butshefeltslightlyscornfulofhim,nevertheless.Tobeunderthethumbofone’sfamilylikethat—itwasreallyratherridiculous—especiallyforaman!
Andyet…
Aqueerfeelingpassedoverher.Surelytherewassomethingalittleoddaboutitall?
Shesaidsuddenlyoutloud:‘Thatboywantsrescuing!I’mgoingtoseetoit!’
Chapter3
WhenSarahhadleftthelounge,DrGerardsatwherehewasforsomeminutes.Thenhestrolledtothetable,pickedupthelatestnumberofLeMatinandstrolledwithittoachairafewyardsawayfromtheBoyntonfamily.Hiscuriositywasaroused.
HehadatfirstbeenamusedbytheEnglishgirl’sinterestinthisAmericanfamily,shrewdlydiagnosingthatitwasinspiredbyinterestinoneparticularmemberofthefamily.Butnowsomethingoutoftheordinaryaboutthisfamilypartyawakenedinhimthedeeper,moreimpartialinterestofthescientist.Hesensedthattherewassomethinghereofdefinitepsychologicalinterest.
Verydiscreetly,underthecoverofhispaper,hetookstockofthem.FirsttheboyinwhomthatattractiveEnglishgirltooksuchadecidedinterest.Yes,thoughtGerard,definitelythetypetoappealtohertemperamentally.SarahKinghadstrength—shepossessedwell-balancednerves,coolwitsandaresolutewill.DrGerardjudgedtheyoungmantobesensitive,perceptive,diffidentandintenselysuggestible.Henotedwithaphysician’seyetheobviousfactthattheboywasatthemomentinastateofhighnervoustension.DrGerardwonderedwhy.Hewaspuzzled.Whyshouldayoungmanwhosephysicalhealthwasobviouslygood,whowasabroadostensiblyenjoyinghimself,beinsuchaconditionthatnervousbreakdownwasimminent?
Thedoctorturnedhisattentiontotheothermembersoftheparty.ThegirlwiththechestnuthairwasobviouslyRaymond’ssister.Theywereofthesameracialtype,small-boned,well-shaped,aristocraticlooking.Theyhadthesameslenderwell-formedhands,thesamecleanlineofjaw,andthesamepoiseoftheheadonalong,slenderneck.Andthegirl,too,wasnervous…Shemadeslightinvoluntarynervousmovements,hereyesweredeeplyshadowedunderneathandoverbright.Hervoice,whenshespoke,wastooquickandashadebreathless.Shewaswatchful—alert—unabletorelax.
‘Andsheisafraid,too,’decidedDrGerard.‘Yes,sheisafraid!’
Heoverheardscrapsofconversation—averyordinarynormalconversation.
‘WemightgotoSolomon’sStables?’‘WouldthatbetoomuchforMother?’‘TheWailingWallinthemorning?’‘TheTemple,ofcourse—theMosqueofOmartheycallit—Iwonderwhy?’‘Becauseit’sbeenmadeintoaMoslemmosque,ofcourse,Lennox.’
Ordinarycommonplacetourist’stalk.Andyet,somehow,DrGerardfeltaqueerconvictionthattheseoverheardscrapsofdialoguewereallsingularlyunreal.Theywereamask—acoverforsomethingthatsurgedandeddiedunderneath—somethingtoodeepandformlessforwords…AgainheshotacovertglancefrombehindtheshelterofLeMatin
Lennox?Thatwastheelderbrother.Thesamefamilylikenesscouldbetraced,buttherewasadifference.Lennoxwasnotsohighlystrung;hewas,Gerarddecided,ofalessnervoustemperament.Butabouthim,too,thereseemedsomethingodd.Therewasnosignofmusculartensionabouthimastherewasabouttheothertwo.Hesatrelaxed,limp.Puzzling,searchingamongmemoriesofpatientshehadseensittinglikethatinhospitalwards,Gerardthought:
‘Heisexhausted—yes,exhaustedwithsuffering.Thatlookintheeyes—thelookyouseeinawoundeddogorasickhorse—dumbbestialendurance…Itisodd,that…Physicallythereseemsnothingwrongwithhim…Yetthereisnodoubtthatlatelyhehasbeenthroughmuchsuffering—mentalsuffering—nowhenolongersuffers—heenduresdumbly—waiting,Ithink,fortheblowtofall…Whatblow?AmIfancyingallthis?No,themaniswaitingforsomething,fortheendtocome.Socancerpatientslieandwait,thankfulthatananodynedullsthepainalittle…’
LennoxBoyntongotupandretrievedaballofwoolthattheoldladyhaddropped.
‘Hereyouare,Mother.’
‘Thankyou.’
Whatwassheknitting,thismonumentalimpassiveoldwoman?Somethingthickandcoarse.Gerardthought:‘Mittensforinhabitantsofaworkhouse!’Andsmiledathisownfantasy.
Heturnedhisattentiontotheyoungestmemberoftheparty—thegirlwiththegolden-redhair.Shewas,perhaps,nineteen.Herskinhadtheexquisiteclearnessthatoftengoeswithredhair.Althoughoverthin,itwasabeautifulface.Shewassittingsmilingtoherself—smilingintospace.Therewassomethingalittlecuriousaboutthatsmile.ItwassofarremovedfromtheSolomonHotel,fromJerusalem…ItremindedDrGerardofsomething…Presentlyitcametohiminaflash.ItwasthestrangeunearthlysmilethatliftsthelipsoftheMaidensintheAcropolisatAthens—somethingremoteandlovelyandalittleinhuman…Themagicofthesmile,herexquisitestillnessgavehimalittlepang.
Andthenwithashock,DrGerardnoticedherhands.Theywereconcealedfromthegrouproundherbythetable,buthecouldseethemclearlyfromwherehesat.Intheshelterofherlaptheywerepicking—picking—tearingadelicatehandkerchiefintotinyshreds.
Itgavehimahorribleshock.Thealoofremotesmile—thestillbody—andthebusydestructivehands…
Chapter4
Therewasaslowasthmaticwheezingcough—thenthemonumentalknittingwomanspoke.
‘Ginevra,you’retired,you’dbettergotobed.’
Thegirlstarted,herfingersstoppedtheirmechanicalaction.‘I’mnottired,Mother.’
Gerardrecognizedappreciativelythemusicalqualityofhervoice.Ithadthesweetsingingqualitythatlendsenchantmenttothemostcommonplaceutterances.
‘Yes,youare.Ialwaysknow.Idon’tthinkyou’llbeabletodoanysightseeingtomorrow.’
‘Oh!butIshall.I’mquiteallright.’
Inathickhoarsevoice—almostagratingvoice,hermothersaid:‘No,you’renot.You’regoingtobeill.’
‘I’mnot!I’mnot!’
Thegirlbegantremblingviolently.
Asoft,calmvoicesaid:‘I’llcomeupwithyou,Jinny.’
Thequietyoungwomanwithwide,thoughtfulgreyeyesandneatly-coileddarkhairrosetoherfeet.
OldMrsBoyntonsaid:‘No.Lethergoupalone.’
Thegirlcried:‘IwantNadinetocome!’
‘ThenofcourseIwill.’Theyoungwomanmovedastepforward.
Theoldwomansaid:‘Thechildpreferstogobyherself—don’tyou,Jinny?’
Therewasapause—apauseofamoment,thenGinevraBoyntonsaid,hervoicesuddenlyflatanddull:
‘Yes;I’drathergoalone.Thankyou,Nadine.’
Shemovedaway,atallangularfigurethatmovedwithasurprisinggrace.
DrGerardloweredhispaperandtookafullsatisfyinggazeatoldMrsBoynton.Shewaslookingafterherdaughterandherfatfacewascreasedintoapeculiarsmile.Itwas,veryfaintly,acaricatureofthelovelyunearthlysmilethathadtransformedthegirl’sfacesoshortatimebefore.
ThentheoldwomantransferredhergazetoNadine.Thelatterhadjustsatdownagain.Sheraisedhereyesandmethermother-in-law’sglance.Herfacewasquiteimperturbable.Theoldwoman’sglancewasmalicious.
DrGerardthought:‘Whatanabsurdityofanoldtyrant!’
Andthen,suddenly,theoldwoman’seyeswerefullonhim,andhedrewinhisbreathsharply.Smallblacksmoulderingeyestheywere,butsomethingcamefromthem,apower,adefiniteforce,awaveofevilmalignancy.DrGerardknewsomethingaboutthepowerofpersonality.Herealizedthatthiswasnospoilttyrannicalinvalidindulgingpettywhims.Thisoldwomanwasadefiniteforce.Inthemalignancyofherglarehefeltaresemblancetotheeffectproducedbyacobra.MrsBoyntonmightbeold,infirm,apreytodisease,butshewasnotpowerless.Shewasawomanwhoknewthemeaningofpower,whohadexercisedalifetimeofpowerandwhohadneveroncedoubtedherownforce.DrGerardhadoncemetawomanwhoperformedamostdangerousandspectacularactwithtigers.Thegreatslinkingbruteshadcrawledtotheirplacesandperformedtheirdegradingandhumiliatingtricks.Theireyesandsubduedsnarlstoldofhatred,bitterfanaticalhatred,buttheyhadobeyed,cringed.Thathadbeenayoungwoman,awomanwithanarrogantdarkbeauty,butthelookhadbeenthesame.
‘Unedompteuse,’saidDrGerardtohimself.
Andheunderstoodnowwhatthatundercurrenttotheharmlessfamilytalkhadbeen.Itwashatred—adarkeddyingstreamofhatred.
Hethought:‘Howfancifulandabsurdmostpeoplewouldthinkme!HereisacommonplacedevotedAmericanfamilyrevelinginPalestine—andIweaveastoryofblackmagicroundit!’
ThenhelookedwithinterestatthequietyoungwomanwhowascalledNadine.Therewasaweddingringonherlefthand,andashewatchedherhesawhergiveoneswiftbetrayingglanceatthefair-haired,loose-limbedLennox.Heknew,then…
Theyweremanandwife,thosetwo.Butitwasamother’sglanceratherthanawife’s—atruemother’sglance—protecting,anxious.Andheknewsomethingmore.Heknewthat,aloneoutofthatgroup,NadineBoyntonwasunaffectedbyhermother-in-law’sspell.Shemayhavedislikedtheoldwoman,butshewasnotafraidofher.Thepowerdidnottouchher.
Shewasunhappy,deeplyconcernedaboutherhusband,butshewasfree.
DrGerardsaidtohimself:‘Allthisisveryinteresting.’
Chapter5
Intothesedarkimaginingsabreathofthecommonplacecamewithalmostludicrouseffect.
Amancameintothelounge,caughtsightoftheBoyntonsandcameacrosstothem.Hewasapleasantmiddle-agedAmericanofastrictlyconventionaltype.Hewascarefullydressed,withalongclean-shavenfaceandhehadaslow,pleasant,somewhatmonotonousvoice.
‘Iwaslookingaroundforyouall,’hesaid.
Meticulouslyheshookhandswiththeentirefamily.‘Andhowdoyoufindyourself,MrsBoynton?Nottootiredbythejourney?’
Almostgraciously,theoldladywheezedout:‘No,thankyou.Myhealth’snevergood,asyouknow—’
‘Why,ofcourse,toobad—toobad.’
‘ButI’mcertainlynoworse.’
MrsBoyntonaddedwithaslowreptiliansmile:‘Nadine,here,takesgoodcareofme,don’tyou,Nadine?’
‘Idomybest.’Hervoicewasexpressionless.
‘Why,Ibetyoudo,’saidthestrangerheartily.‘Well,Lennox,andwhatdoyouthinkofKingDavid’scity?’
‘Oh,Idon’tknow.’
Lennoxspokeapathetically—withoutinterest.
‘Finditkindofdisappointing,doyou?I’llconfessitstruckmethatwayatfirst.Butperhapsyouhaven’tbeenaroundmuchyet?’
CarolBoyntonsaid:‘Wecan’tdoverymuchbecauseofMother.’
MrsBoyntonexplained:‘Acoupleofhours’sightseeingisaboutallIcanmanageeveryday.’
Thestrangersaidheartily:‘Ithinkit’swonderfulyoumanagetodoallyoudo,MrsBoynton.’
MrsBoyntongaveaslow,wheezychuckle;ithadanalmostgloatingsound.
‘Idon’tgiveintomybody!It’sthemindthatmatters!Yes,it’sthemind…’
Hervoicediedaway.GerardsawRaymondBoyntongiveanervousjerk.
‘HaveyoubeentotheWailingWallyet,MrCope?’heasked.
‘Why,yes,thatwasoneofthefirstplacesIvisited.IhopetohavedoneJerusalemthoroughlyinacouplemoredays,andI’mlettingthemgetmeoutanitineraryatCook’ssoastodotheHolyLandthoroughly—Bethlehem,Nazareth,Tiberias,theSeaofGalilee.It’sallgoingtobemightyinteresting.Thenthere’sJerash,therearesomeveryinterestingruinsthere—Roman,youknow.AndI’dverymuchliketohavealookattheRoseRedCityofPetra,amostremarkablenaturalphenomenon,Ibelievethatis—andrightoffthebeatentrack—butittakesthebestpartofaweektogetthereandback,anddoitproperly.’
Carolsaid:‘I’dlovetogothere.Itsoundsmarvelous.’
‘Why,Ishouldsayitwasdefinitelyworthseeing—yes,definitelyworthseeing.’MrCopepaused,shotasomewhatdubiousglanceatMrsBoynton,andthenwentoninavoicethattothelisteningFrenchmanwaspalpablyuncertain:
‘IwondernowifIcouldn’tpersuadesomeofyoupeopletocomewithme?NaturallyIknowyoucouldn’tmanageit,MrsBoynton,andnaturallysomeofyourfamilywouldwanttoremainwithyou,butifyouweretodivideforces,sotospeak—’
Hepaused.GerardheardtheevenclickofMrsBoynton’sknittingneedles.Thenshesaid:
‘Idon’tthinkwe’dcaretodivideup.We’reaveryhomeygroup.’Shelookedup.‘Well,children,whatdoyousay?’
Therewasaqueerringinhervoice.Theanswerscamepromptly.‘No,Mother.’‘Oh,no.’‘No,ofcoursenot.’
MrsBoyntonsaid,smilingthatveryoddsmileofhers:‘Yousee—theywon’tleaveme.Whataboutyou,Nadine?Youdidn’tsayanything.’
‘No,thankyou,Mother,notunlessLennoxcaresaboutit.’
MrsBoyntonturnedherheadslowlytowardsherson.
‘Well,Lennox,whataboutit,whydon’tyouandNadinego?Sheseemstowantto.’
Hestarted—lookedup.‘I—well—no,I—Ithinkwe’dbetterallstaytogether.’
MrCopesaidgenially:‘Well,youareadevotedfamily!’Butsomethinginhisgenialityrangalittlehollowandforced.
‘Wekeeptoourselves,’saidMrsBoynton.Shebegantowindupherballofwool.‘Bytheway,Raymond,whowasthatyoungwomanwhospoketoyoujustnow?’
Raymondstartednervously.Heflushed,thenwentwhite.
‘I—Idon’tknowhername.She—shewasonthetraintheothernight.’
MrsBoyntonbeganslowlytotrytoheaveherselfoutofherchair.
‘Idon’tthinkwe’llhavemuchtodowithher,’shesaid.
Nadineroseandassistedtheoldwomantostruggleoutofherchair.ShediditwithaprofessionaldeftnessthatattractedGerard’sattention.
‘Bedtime,’saidMrsBoynton.‘Goodnight,MrCope.’
‘Goodnight,MrsBoynton.Goodnight,MrsLennox.’
Theywentoff—alittleprocession.Itdidnotseemtooccurtoanyoftheyoungermembersofthepartytostaybehind.
MrCopewasleftlookingafterthem.Theexpressiononhisfacewasanoddone
AsDrGerardknewbyexperience,Americansaredisposedtobeafriendlyrace.TheyhavenottheuneasysuspicionofthetravellingBriton.ToamanofDrGerard’stactmakingtheacquaintanceofMrCopepresentedfewdifficulties.TheAmericanwaslonelyandwas,likemostofhisrace,disposedtofriendliness.DrGerard’scard-casewasagaintothefore.
Readingthenameonit,MrJeffersonCopewasdulyimpressed.
‘Why,surely,DrGerard,youwereoverintheStatesnotverylongago?’
‘Lastautumn.IwaslecturingatHarvard.’
‘Ofcourse.Yours,DrGerard,isoneofthemostdistinguishednamesinyourprofession.You’reprettywellattheheadofyoursubjectinParis.’
‘Mydearsir,youarefartookind!Iprotest.’
‘No,no,thisisagreatprivilege—meetingyoulikethis.Asamatteroffact,thereareseveralverydistinguishedpeoplehereinJerusalemjustatpresent.There’syourselfandthere’sLordWelldon,andSirGabrielSteinbaum,thefinancier.Thenthere’stheveteranEnglisharchaeologist,SirMandersStone.Andthere’sLadyWestholme,who’sveryprominentinEnglishpolitics.Andthere’sthatfamousBelgiandetectiveHerculePoirot.’
‘LittleHerculePoirot?Ishehere?’
‘Ireadhisnameinthelocalpaperashavinglatelyarrived.SeemstomealltheworldandhiswifeareattheSolomonHotel.Amightyfinehotelitis,too.Andverytastefullydecorated.’
MrJeffersonCopewasclearlyenjoyinghimself.DrGerardwasamanwhocoulddisplayalotofcharmwhenhechose.Beforelongthetwomenhadadjournedtothebar.
AfteracoupleofhighballsGerardsaid:‘Tellme,isthatatypicalAmericanfamilytowhomyouweretalking?’
JeffersonCopesippedhisdrinkthoughtfully.Thenhesaid:‘Why,no,Iwouldn’tsayitwasexactlytypical.’
‘No?Averydevotedfamily,Ithought.’
MrCopesaidslowly:‘Youmeantheyallseemtorevolveroundtheoldlady?That’strueenough.She’saveryremarkableoldlady,youknow.’
‘Indeed?’
MrCopeneededverylittleencouragement.Thegentleinvitationwasenough.
‘Idon’tmindtellingyou,DrGerard,I’vebeenhavingthatfamilyagooddealonmymindlately.I’vebeenthinkingaboutthemalot.IfImaysayso,itwouldeasemymindtotalktoyouaboutthematter.Ifitwon’tboreyou,thatis?’
DrGerarddisclaimedboredom.MrJeffersonCopewentonslowly,hispleasantclean-shavenfacecreasedwithperplexity.
‘I’lltellyoustraightawaythatI’mjustalittleworried.MrsBoynton,yousee,isanoldfriendofmine.Thatistosay,nottheoldMrsBoynton,theyoungone,MrsLennoxBoynton.’
‘Ah,yes,thatverycharmingdark-hairedyounglady.’
‘That’sright.That’sNadine.NadineBoynton,DrGerard,isaverylovelycharacter.Iknewherbeforeshewasmarried.Shewasinhospitalthen,workingtobeatrainednurse.ThenshewentforavacationtostaywiththeBoyntonsandshemarriedLennox.’
‘Yes?’
MrJeffersonCopetookanothersipofhighballandwenton:
‘I’dliketotellyou,DrGerard,justalittleoftheBoyntonfamilyhistory.’
‘Yes?Ishouldbemostinterested.’
‘Well,yousee,thelateElmerBoynton—hewasquiteawell-knownmanandaverycharmingpersonality—wastwicemarried.HisfirstwifediedwhenCarolandRaymondweretinytoddlers.ThesecondMrsBoynton,soI’vebeentold,wasahandsomewomanwhenhemarriedher,thoughnotveryyoung.Seemsoddtothinkshecaneverhavebeenhandsometolookathernow,butthat’swhatI’vebeentoldonverygoodauthority.Anyway,herhusbandthoughtalotofherandadoptedherjudgementonalmosteverypoint.Hewasaninvalidforsomeyearsbeforehedied,andshepracticallyruledtheroost.She’saverycapablewomanwithafineheadforbusiness.Averyconscientiouswoman,too.AfterElmerdied,shedevotedherselfabsolutelytothesechildren.There’soneofherown,too,Ginevra—prettyred-hairedgirl,butabitdelicate.Well,asIwastellingyou,MrsBoyntondevotedherselfentirelytoherfamily.Shejustshutouttheoutsideworldentirely.NowIdon’tknowwhatyouthink,DrGerard,butIdon’tthinkthat’salwaysaverysoundthing.’
‘Iagreewithyou.Itismostharmfultodevelopingmentalities.’
‘Yes,Ishouldsaythatjustaboutexpressesit.MrsBoyntonshieldedthesechildrenfromtheoutsideworldandneverletthemmakeanyoutsidecontacts.Theresultofthatisthatthey’vegrownup—well,kindofnervy.They’rejumpy,ifyouknowwhatImean.Can’tmakefriendswithstrangers.It’sbad,that.’
‘Itisverybad.’
‘I’venodoubtMrsBoyntonmeantwell.Itwasjustover-devotiononherpart.’
‘Theyallliveathome?’askedthedoctor.
‘Yes.’
‘Doneitherofthesonswork?’
‘Why,no.ElmerBoyntonwasarichman.HeleftallhismoneytoMrsBoyntonforherlifetime—butitwasunderstoodthatitwasforthefamilyupkeepgenerally.’
‘Sotheyaredependentonherfinancially?’
‘Thatisso.Andshe’sencouragedthemtoliveathomeandnotgooutandlookforjobs.Well,maybethat’sallright,there’splentyofmoney,theydon’tneedtotakeajob,butIthinkforthemalesex,anyway,work’sagoodtonic.Then,there’sanotherthing—they’venoneofthemgotanyhobbies.Theydon’tplaygolf.Theydon’tbelongtoanycountryclub.Theydon’tgoaroundtodancesordoanythingwiththeotheryoungpeople.Theyliveinagreatbarrackofahousewaydowninthecountrymilesfromanywhere.Itellyou,DrGerard,itseemsallwrongtome.’
‘Iagreewithyou,’saidDrGerard.
‘Notoneofthemhasgottheleastsocialsense.Thecommunityspirit—that’swhat’slacking!Theymaybeaverydevotedfamily,butthey’reallboundupinthemselves.’
‘Therehasneverbeenanyquestionofoneorotherofthembranchingoutforhimorherself?’
‘NotthatI’veheardof.Theyjustsitaround.’
‘DoyouputtheblameforthatonthemoronMrsBoynton?’
JeffersonCopeshifteduneasily.
‘Well,inasense,Ifeelsheismoreorlessresponsible.It’sbadbringing-uponherpart.Allthesame,whenayoungfellowcomestomaturityit’suptohimtokickoverthetracesofhisownaccord.Noboyoughttokeeponbeingtiedtohismother’sapronstrings.Heoughttochoosetobeindependent.’
DrGerardsaidthoughtfully:‘Thatmightbeimpossible.’
‘Whyimpossible?’
‘Therearemethods,MrCope,ofpreventingatreefromgrowing.’
Copestared.‘They’reafinehealthylot,DrGerard.’
‘Themindcanbestuntedandwarpedaswellasthebody.’
‘They’rebrightmentally,too.’
JeffersonCopewenton:‘No,DrGerard,takeitfromme,amanhasgotthecontrolofhisowndestinyrightthereinhisownhands.Amanwhorespectshimselfstrikesoutonhisownandmakessomethingofhislife.Hedoesn’tjustsitroundandtwiddlehisthumbs.Nowomanoughttorespectamanwhodoesthat.’
Gerardlookedathimcuriouslyforaminuteortwo.Thenhesaid:‘Youreferparticularly,Ithink,toMrLennoxBoynton?’
‘Why,yes,itwasLennoxIwasthinkingof.Raymond’sonlyaboystill.ButLennoxisjustonthirty.Timeheshowedhewasmadeofsomething.’
‘Itisadifficultlife,perhaps,forhiswife?’
‘Ofcourseit’sadifficultlifeforher!Nadineisaveryfinegirl.IadmirehermorethanIcansay.She’sneverletdroponewordofcomplaint.Butshe’snothappy,DrGerard.She’sjustasunhappyasshecanbe.’
Gerardnoddedhishead.
‘Yes,Ithinkthatwellmightbe.’
‘Idon’tknowwhatyouthinkaboutit,DrGerard,butIthinkthatthere’salimittowhatawomanoughttoputupwith!IfIwereNadineI’dputittoyoungLennoxstraight.Eitherhesetstoandproveswhathe’smadeof,orelse—’
‘Orelse,youthink,sheshouldleavehim?’
‘She’sgotherownlifetolive,DrGerard.IfLennoxdoesn’tappreciateherassheoughttobeappreciated—well,thereareothermenwhowill.’
‘Thereis—yourself,forinstance?’
TheAmericanflushed.Thenhelookedstraightattheotherwithacertainsimpledignity.
‘That’sso,’hesaid.‘I’mnotashamedofmyfeelingforthatlady.IrespectherandIamverydeeplyattachedtoher.AllIwantisherhappiness.IfshewerehappywithLennox,I’dsitrightbackandfadeoutofthepicture.’
‘Butasitis?’
‘ButasitisI’mstandingby!Ifshewantsme,I’mhere!’
‘Youare,infact,theparfaitgentilknight,’murmuredGerard.
‘Pardon?’
‘Mydearsir,chivalryonlylivesnowadaysintheAmericannation!Youarecontenttoserveyourladywithouthopeofreward!Itismostadmirable,that!Whatexactlydoyouhopetobeabletodoforher?’
‘Myideaistoberighthereathandifsheneedsme.’
‘Andwhat,mayIask,istheolderMrsBoynton’sattitudetowardsyou?’
JeffersonCopesaidslowly:‘I’mneverquitesureaboutthatoldlady.AsI’vetoldyou,sheisn’tfondofmakingoutsidecontacts.Butshe’sbeendifferenttome,she’salwaysverygraciousandtreatsmequitelikeoneofthefamily.’
‘Infact,sheapprovesofyourfriendshipwithMrsLennox?’
‘Shedoes.’
DrGerardshruggedhisshoulders.
‘Thatis,perhaps,alittleodd?’
JeffersonCopesaidstiffly:‘Letmeassureyou,DrGerard,thereisnothingdishonourableinthatfriendship.Itispurelyplatonic.’
‘Mydearsir,Iamquitesureofthat.Irepeat,though,thatforMrsBoyntontoencouragethatfriendshipisacuriousactiononherpart.Youknow,MrCope,MrsBoyntoninterestsme—sheinterestsmegreatly.’
‘Sheiscertainlyaremarkablewoman.Shehasgreatforceofcharacter—amostprominentpersonality.AsIsay,ElmerBoyntonhadthegreatestfaithinherjudgement.’
‘Somuchsothathewascontenttoleavehischildrencompletelyathermercyfromthefinancialpointofview.Inmycountry,MrCope,itisimpossiblebylawtodosuchathing.’
MrCoperose.‘InAmerica,’hesaid,‘we’regreatbelieversinabsolutefreedom.’
DrGerardrosealso.Hewasunimpressedbytheremark.Hehadhearditmadebeforebypeopleofmanydifferentnationalities.Theillusionthatfreedomistheprerogativeofone’sownparticularraceisfairlywidespread.
DrGerardwaswiser.Heknewthatnorace,nocountryandnoindividualcouldbedescribedasfree.Buthealsoknewthatthereweredifferentdegreesofbondage.
Hewentuptobedthoughtfulandinterested.
Chapter6
SarahKingstoodintheprecinctsoftheTemple—theHaramesh-Sherif.HerbackwastotheDomeoftheRock.Thesplashingoffountainssoundedinherears.Littlegroupsoftouristspassedbywithoutdisturbingthepeaceoftheorientalatmosphere.
Strange,thoughtSarah,thatonceaJebusiteshouldhavemadethisrockysummitintoathreshingfloorandthatDavidshouldhavepurchaseditforsixhundredshekelsofgoldandmadeitaHolyPlace.Andnowtheloudchatteringtonguesofsightseersofallnationscouldbeheard.
SheturnedandlookedattheMosquewhichnowcoveredtheshrineandwonderedifSolomon’stemplewouldhavelookedhalfasbeautiful.
TherewasaclatteroffootstepsandalittlepartycameoutfromtheinterioroftheMosque.ItwastheBoyntonsescortedbyavolubledragoman.MrsBoyntonwassupportedbetweenLennoxandRaymond.NadineandMrCopewalkedbehind.Carolcamelast.Astheyweremovingoff,thelattercaughtsightofSarah.
Shehesitated,then,onasuddendecision,shewheeledroundandranswiftlyandnoiselesslyacrossthecourtyard.
‘Excuseme,’shesaidbreathlessly.‘Imust—I—IfeltImustspeaktoyou.’
‘Yes?’saidSarah.
Carolwastremblingviolently.Herfacewasquitewhite.
‘It’sabout—mybrother.Whenyou—youspoketohimlastnightyoumusthavethoughthimveryrude.Buthedidn’tmeantobe—he—hecouldn’thelpit.Oh,dopleasebelieveme.’
Sarahfeltthatthewholescenewasridiculous.Bothherprideandhergoodtastewereoffended.Whyshouldastrangegirlsuddenlyrushupandtenderaridiculousapologyforaboorishbrother?
Anoff-handreplytrembledonherlips—andthen,quickly,hermoodchanged.
Therewassomethingoutoftheordinaryhere.Thisgirlwasindeadlyearnest.ThatsomethinginSarahwhichhadledhertoadoptamedicalcareerreactedtothegirl’sneed.Herinstincttoldhertherewassomethingbadlywrong.
Shesaidencouragingly:‘Tellmeaboutit.’
‘Hespoketoyouonthetrain,didn’the?’beganCarol.
Sarahnodded.‘Yes;atleast,Ispoketohim.’
‘Oh,ofcourse.Itwouldbethatwayround.But,yousee,lastnightRaywasafraid—’
Shestopped.
‘Afraid?’
Carol’swhitefacecrimsoned.
‘Oh,Iknowitsoundsabsurd—mad.Yousee,mymother—she’s—she’snotwell—andshedoesn’tlikeusmakingfriendsoutside.But—butIknowRaywould—wouldliketobefriendswithyou.’
Sarahwasinterested.Beforeshecouldspeak,Carolwenton:‘I—IknowwhatI’msayingsoundsverysilly,butweare—ratheranoddfamily.’Shecastaquicklookround—itwasalookoffear
‘I—Imustn’tstay,’shemurmured.‘Theymaymissme.’
Sarahmadeuphermind.Shespoke.
‘Whyshouldn’tyoustay—ifyouwantto?Wemightwalkbacktogether.’
‘Oh,no.’Caroldrewback.‘I—Icouldn’tdothat.’
‘Whynot?’saidSarah.
‘Icouldn’treally.Mymotherwouldbe—wouldbe—’
Sarahsaidclearlyandcalmly:
‘Iknowit’sawfullydifficultsometimesforparentstorealizethattheirchildrenaregrownup.Theywillgoontryingtoruntheirlivesforthem.Butit’sapity,youknow,togivein!Onemuststandupforone’srights.’
Carolmurmured:‘Youdon’tunderstand—youdon’tunderstandintheleast…’
Herhandstwistedtogethernervously.
Sarahwenton:‘Onegivesinsometimesbecauseoneisafraidofrows.Rowsareveryunpleasant,butIthinkfreedomofactionisalwaysworthfightingfor.’
‘Freedom?’Carolstaredather.‘Noneofushaveeverbeenfree.Weneverwillbe.’
‘Nonsense!’saidSarahclearly.
Carolleanedforwardandtouchedherarm.
‘Listen.Imusttryandmakeyouunderstand!Beforehermarriagemymother—she’smystepmotherreally—wasawardressinaprison.MyfatherwastheGovernorandhemarriedher.Well,it’sbeenlikethateversince.She’sgoneonbeingawardress—tous.That’swhyourlifeisjust—beinginprison!’
Herheadjerkedroundagain.
‘They’vemissedme.I—Imustgo.’
Sarahcaughtherbythearmasshewasdartingoff.
‘Oneminute.Wemustmeetagainandtalk.’
‘Ican’t.Ishan’tbeableto.’
‘Yes,youcan.’Shespokeauthoritatively.‘Cometomyroomafteryougotobed.It’s319.Don’tforget,319.’
Shereleasedherhold.Carolranoffafterherfamily.
Sarahstoodstaringafterher.SheawokefromherthoughtstofindDrGerardbyherside.
‘Goodmorning,MissKing.Soyou’vebeentalkingtoMissCarolBoynton?’
‘Yes,wehadthemostextraordinaryconversation.Letmetellyou.’
Sherepeatedthesubstanceofherconversationwiththegirl.Gerardpouncedononepoint.
‘Wardressinaprison,wasshe,thatoldhippopotamus?Thatissignificant,perhaps.’
Sarahsaid:
‘Youmeanthatthatisthecauseofhertyranny?Itisthehabitofherformerprofession.’
Gerardshookhishead.
‘No,thatisapproachingitfromthewrongangle.Thereissomedeepunderlyingcompulsion.Shedoesnotlovetyrannybecauseshehasbeenawardress.Letusrathersaythatshebecameawardressbecauseshelovedtyranny.Inmytheoryitwasasecretdesireforpoweroverotherhumanbeingsthatledhertoadoptthatprofession.’
Hisfacewasverygrave.
‘Therearesuchstrangethingsburieddownintheunconscious.Alustforpower—alustforcruelty—asavagedesiretotearandrend—alltheinheritanceofourpastracialmemories…Theyareallthere,MissKing,allthecrueltyandsavageryandlust…Weshutthedooronthemanddenythemconsciouslife,butsometimes—theyaretoostrong.’
Sarahshivered.‘Iknow.’
Gerardcontinued:‘Weseeitallroundustoday—inpoliticalcreeds,intheconductofnations.Areactionfromhumanitarianism—frompity—frombrotherlygood-will.Thecreedssoundwellsometimes—awiserégime—abeneficentgovernment—butimposedbyforce—restingonabasisofcrueltyandfear.Theyareopeningthedoor,theseapostlesofviolence,theyarelettinguptheoldsavagery,theolddelightincrueltyforitsownsake!Oh,itisdifficult—Manisananimalverydelicatelybalanced.Hehasoneprimenecessity—tosurvive.Toadvancetooquicklyisasfatalastolagbehind.Hemustsurvive!Hemust,perhaps,retainsomeoftheoldsavagery,buthemustnot—nodefinitelyhemustnot—deifyit!’
Therewasapause.ThenSarahsaid:
‘YouthinkoldMrsBoyntonisakindofsadist?’
‘Iamalmostsureofit.Ithinksherejoicesintheinflictionofpain—mentalpain,mindyou,notphysical.Thatisverymuchrarerandverymuchmoredifficulttodealwith.Shelikestohavecontrolofotherhumanbeingsandshelikestomakethemsuffer.’
‘It’sprettybeastly,’saidSarah.
GerardtoldherofhisconversationwithJeffersonCope.‘Hedoesn’trealizewhatisgoingon?’shesaidthoughtfully.
‘Howshouldhe?Heisnotapsychologist.’
‘True.Hehasn’tgotourdisgustingminds!’
‘Exactly.Hehasanice,upright,sentimental,normalAmericanmind.Hebelievesingoodratherthanevil.HeseesthattheatmosphereoftheBoyntonfamilyisallwrong,buthecreditsMrsBoyntonwithmisguideddevotionratherthanactivemaleficence.’
‘Thatshouldamuseher,’saidSarah.
‘Ishouldimagineitdoes!’
Sarahsaidimpatiently:
‘Butwhydon’ttheybreakaway?Theycould.’
Gerardshookhishead.
‘No,thereyouarewrong.Theycannot.Haveyoueverseentheoldexperimentwithacock?Youchalkalineonthefloorandputthecock’sbeakonit.Thecockbelievesheistiedthere.Hecannotraisehishead.Sowiththeseunfortunates.Shehasworkedonthem,remember,sincetheywerechildren.Andherdominancehasbeenmental.Shehashypnotizedthemtobelievethattheycannotdisobeyher.Oh,Iknowmostpeoplewouldsaythatwasnonsense—butyouandIknowbetter.Shehasmadethembelievethatutterdependenceonherisinevitable.Theyhavebeeninprisonsolongthatiftheprisondoorstandsopentheywouldnolongernotice!Oneofthem,atleast,nolongerevenwantstobefree!Andtheywouldallbeafraidoffreedom.’
Sarahaskedpractically:‘Whatwillhappenwhenshedies?’
Gerardshruggedhisshoulders.
‘Itdepends.Onhowsoonthathappens.Ifithappenednow—well,Ithinkitmightnotbetoolate.Theboyandgirl—theyarestillyoung—impressionable.Theywouldbecome,Ibelieve,normalhumanbeings.WithLennox,possibly,ithasgonetoofar.Helookstomelikeamanwhohaspartedcompanywithhope—helivesandendureslikeabrutebeast.’
Sarahsaidimpatiently:‘Hiswifeoughttohavedonesomething!Sheoughttohaveyankedhimoutofit.’
‘Iwonder.Shemayhavetried—andfailed.’
‘Doyouthinkshe’sunderthespell,too?’
Gerardshookhishead.
‘No.Idon’tthinktheoldladyhasanypoweroverher,andforthatreasonshehatesherwithabitterhatred.Watchhereyes.’
Sarahfrowned.‘Ican’tmakeherout—theyoungone,Imean.Doessheknowwhatisgoingon?’
‘Ithinkshemusthaveaprettyshrewdidea.’
‘H’m,’saidSarah.‘Thatoldwomanoughttobemurdered!Arsenicinherearlymorningteawouldbemyprescription.’
Thenshesaidabruptly:
‘Whatabouttheyoungestgirl—thered-hairedonewiththeratherfascinatingvacantsmile?’
Gerardfrowned.‘Idon’tknow.Thereissomethingqueerthere.GinevraBoyntonistheoldwoman’sowndaughter,ofcourse.’
‘Yes.Isupposethatwouldbedifferent—orwouldn’tit?’
Gerardsaidslowly:‘Idonotbelievethatwhenoncethemaniaforpower(andthelustforcruelty)hastakenpossessionofahumanbeingitcanspareanybody—notevenitsnearestanddearest.’
Hewassilentforamoment,thenhesaid:‘AreyouaChristian,mademoiselle?’
Sarahsaidslowly:‘Idon’tknow.IusedtothinkthatIwasn’tanything.Butnow—I’mnotsure.Ifeel—oh,IfeelthatifIcouldsweepallthisaway’—shemadeaviolentgesture—‘allthebuildingsandthesectsandthefiercesquabblingchurches—that—thatImightseeChrist’squietfigureridingintoJerusalemonadonkey—andbelieveinHim.’
DrGerardsaidgravely:‘IbelieveatleastinoneofthechieftenetsoftheChristianfaith—contentmentwithalowlyplace.IamadoctorandIknowthatambition—thedesiretosucceed—tohavepower—leadstomostillsofthehumansoul.Ifthedesireisrealizeditleadstoarrogance,violenceandfinalsatiety—andifitisdenied—ah!ifitisdenied—letalltheasylumsfortheinsaneriseupandgivetheirtestimony!Theyarefilledwithhumanbeingswhowereunabletofacebeingmediocre,insignificant,ineffectiveandwhothereforecreatedforthemselveswaysofescapefromrealitysoastobeshutofffromlifeitselfforever.’
Sarahsaidabruptly:‘It’sapitytheoldBoyntonwomanisn’tinanasylum.’
Gerardshookhishead.
‘No—herplaceisnotthereamongthefailures.Itisworsethanthat.Shehassucceeded,yousee!Shehasaccomplishedherdream.’
Sarahshuddered.
Shecriedpassionately:‘Suchthingsoughtnottobe!’
Chapter7
SarahwonderedverymuchwhetherCarolBoyntonwouldkeepherappointmentthatnight.
Onthewholesheratherdoubtedit.ShewasafraidthatCarolwouldhaveasharpreactionafterhersemi-confidencesofthemorning.
Neverthelessshemadeherpreparations,slippingonabluesatindressing-gownandgettingoutherlittlespiritlampandboilingupwater.
ShewasjustonthepointofgivingCarolup(itwasafteroneo’clock)andgoingtobed,whentherewasataponherdoor.SheopeneditanddrewquicklybacktoletCarolcomein.
Thelattersaidbreathlessly:‘Iwasafraidyoumighthavegonetobed…’
Sarah’smannerwascarefullymatter-of-fact.
‘Oh,no,Iwaswaitingforyou.Havesometea,willyou?It’srealLapsangSouchong.’
Shebroughtoveracup.Carolhadbeennervousanduncertainofherself.Nowsheacceptedthecupandabiscuitandhermannerbecamecalmer.
‘Thisisratherfun,’saidSarah,smiling.
Carollookedalittlestartled.
‘Yes,’shesaiddoubtfully.‘Yes,Isupposeitis.’
‘Ratherlikethemidnightfeastsweusedtohaveatschool,’wentonSarah.‘Isupposeyoudidn’tgotoschool?’
Carolshookherhead.
‘No,weneverlefthome.Wehadagoverness—differentgovernesses.Theyneverstayedlong.’
‘Didyounevergoawayatall?’
‘No.We’velivedalwaysinthesamehouse.ThiscomingabroadisthefirsttimeI’veeverbeenaway.’
Sarahsaidcasually:‘Itmusthavebeenagreatadventure.’
‘Oh,itwas.It—it’sallbeenlikeadream.’
‘Whatmadeyour—yourstepmotherdecidetocomeabroad?’
AtthementionofMrsBoynton’sname,Carolhadflinched.Sarahsaidquickly:
‘Youknow,I’mbywayofbeingadoctor.I’vejusttakenmyM.B.Yourmother—orstepmotherrather—isveryinterestingtome—asacase,youknow.Ishouldsayshewasquitedefinitelyapathologicalcase.’
Carolstared.Itwasclearlyaveryunexpectedpointofviewtoher.Sarahhadspokenasshehadwithdeliberateintent.SherealizedthattoherfamilyMrsBoyntonloomedasakindofpowerfulobsceneidol.ItwasSarah’sobjecttorobherofhermoreterrifyingaspect.
‘Yes,’shesaid.‘There’sakindofdiseaseof—ofgrandeur—thatgetsholdofpeople.Theygetveryautocraticandinsistoneverythingbeingdoneexactlyastheysayandarealtogetherverydifficulttodealwith.’
Carolputdownhercup.
‘Oh,’shecried,‘I’msogladtobetalkingtoyou.Really,youknow,IbelieveRayandIhavebeengettingquite—well,quitequeer.We’dgetterriblyworkedupaboutthings.’
‘Talkingwithanoutsiderisalwaysagoodthing,’saidSarah.‘Insideafamilyoneisapttogettoointense.’Thensheaskedcasually:‘Ifyouareunhappy,haven’tyoueverthoughtofleavinghome?’
Carollookedstartled.‘Oh,no!Howcouldwe?I—ImeanMotherwouldneverallowit.’
‘Butshecouldn’tstopyou,’saidSarahgently.‘You’reoverage.’
‘I’mtwenty-three.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Butstill,Idon’tseehow—Imean,Iwouldn’tknowwheretogoandwhattodo.’
Hertoneseemedbewildered.
‘Yousee,’shesaid,‘wehaven’tgotanymoney.’
‘Haven’tyouanyfriendsyoucouldgoto?’
‘Friends?’Carolshookherhead.‘Oh,no,wedon’tknowanyone!’
‘Didnoneofyoueverthinkofleavinghome?’
‘No—Idon’tthinkso.Oh—oh—wecouldn’t.’
Sarahchangedthesubject.Shefoundthegirl’sbewildermentpitiful.
Shesaid:‘Areyoufondofyourstepmother?’
SlowlyCarolshookherhead.Shewhisperedinalowscaredvoice:‘Ihateher.SodoesRay…We’ve—we’veoftenwishedshewoulddie.’
AgainSarahchangedthesubject.
‘Tellmeaboutyourelderbrother.’
‘Lennox?Idon’tknowwhat’sthematterwithLennox.Hehardlyeverspeaksnow.Hegoesaboutinakindofdaydream.Nadine’sterriblyworriedabouthim.’
‘Youarefondofyoursister-in-law?’
‘Yes,Nadineisdifferent.She’salwayskind.Butshe’sveryunhappy.’
‘Aboutyourbrother?’
‘Yes.’
‘Havetheybeenmarriedlong?’
‘Fouryears.’
‘Andthey’vealwayslivedathome?’
‘Yes.’
Sarahasked:‘Doesyoursister-in-lawlikethat?’
‘No.’
Therewasapause.ThenCarolsaid:
‘Therewasanawfulfussjustoverfouryearsago.Yousee,asItoldyou,noneofusevergooutsidethehouseathome.Imeanwegointothegrounds,butnowhereelse.ButLennoxdid.Hegotoutatnight.HewentintoFountainSprings—therewasasortofdancegoingon.Motherwasfrightfullyangrywhenshefoundout.Itwasterrible.Andthen,afterthat,sheaskedNadinetocomeandstay.NadinewasaverydistantcousinofFather’s.Shewasverypoorandwastrainingtobeahospitalnurse.Shecameandstayedwithusforamonth.Ican’ttellyouhowexcitingitwastohavesomeonetostay!AndsheandLennoxfellinlovewitheachother.AndMothersaidthey’dbetterbemarriedquicklyandliveonwithus.’
‘AndwasNadinewillingtodothat?’
Carolhesitated.
‘Idon’tthinkshewantedtodothatverymuch,butshedidn’treallymind.Then,later,shewantedtogoaway—withLennox,ofcourse—’
‘Buttheydidn’tgo?’askedSarah.
‘No,Motherwouldn’thearofit.’
Carolpaused,andthensaid:
‘Idon’tthink—shelikesNadineanylonger.Nadineis—funny.Youneverknowwhatshe’sthinking.ShetriestohelpJinnyandMotherdoesn’tlikeit.’
‘Jinnyisyouryoungestsister?’
‘Yes.Ginevraisherrealname.’
‘Isshe—unhappy,too?’
Carolshookherheaddoubtfully.
‘Jinny’sbeenveryqueerlately.Idon’tunderstandher.Yousee,she’salwaysbeenratherdelicate—and—andMotherfussesaboutherand—anditmakesherworse.AndlatelyJinnyhasbeenveryqueerindeed.She—shefrightensmesometimes.She—shedoesn’talwaysknowwhatshe’sdoing.’
‘Hassheseenadoctor?’
‘No,Nadinewantedherto,butMothersaidno—andJinnygotveryhystericalandscreamed,andsaidshewouldn’tseeadoctor.ButI’mworriedabouther.’
SuddenlyCarolrose.
‘Imustn’tkeepyouup.It’s—it’sverygoodofyoulettingmecomeandtalktoyou.Youmustthinkusveryoddasafamily.’
‘Oh,everybody’sodd,really,’saidSarahlightly.‘Comeagain,willyou?Andbringyourbrother,ifyoulike.’
‘MayIreally?’
‘Yes;we’lldosomesecretplotting.I’dlikeyoutomeetafriendofmine,too,aDrGerard,anawfullyniceFrenchman.’
ThecolourcameintoCarol’scheeks.
‘Oh,whatfunitsounds.IfonlyMotherdoesn’tfindout!’
Sarahsuppressedheroriginalretortandsaidinstead,‘Whyshouldshe?Goodnight.Shallwesaytomorrownightatthesametime?’
‘Oh,yes.Thedayafter,yousee,wemaybegoingaway.’
‘Thenlet’shaveadefinitedatefortomorrow.Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight—andthankyou.’
Carolwentoutoftheroomandslippednoiselesslyalongthecorridor.Herownroomwasonthefloorabove.Shereachedit,openedthedoor—andstoodappalledonthethreshold.MrsBoyntonwassittinginanarmchairbythefireplaceinacrimsonwooldressing-gown.
AlittlecryescapedfromCarol’slips.‘Oh!’
Apairofblackeyesboredintohers.
‘Wherehaveyoubeen,Carol?’
‘I—I—’
‘Wherehaveyoubeen?’
Asoft,huskyvoicewiththatqueermenacingunder-toneinitthatalwaysmadeCarol’sheartbeatwithunreasoningterror.
‘ToseeaMissKing—SarahKing.’
‘ThegirlwhospoketoRaymondtheotherevening?’
‘Yes,Mother.’
‘Haveyoumadeanyplanstoseeheragain?’
Carol’slipsmovedsoundlessly.Shenoddedassent.Fright—greatsickeningwavesoffright…
‘When?’
‘Tomorrownight.’
‘Youarenottogo.Youunderstand?’
‘Yes,Mother.’
‘Youpromise?’
‘Yes—yes.’
MrsBoyntonstruggledtogetup.MechanicallyCarolcameforwardandhelpedher.MrsBoyntonwalkedslowlyacrosstheroom,supportingherselfonherstick.Shepausedinthedoorwayandlookedbackatthecoweringgirl.
‘YouaretohavenothingmoretodowiththisMissKing.Youunderstand?’
‘Yes,Mother.’
‘Repeatit.’
‘Iamtohavenothingmoretodowithher.’
‘Good.’
MrsBoyntonwentoutandshutthedoor.
Stiffly,Carolmovedacrossthebedroom.Shefeltsick,herwholebodyfeltwoodenandunreal.Shedroppedontothebedandsuddenlyshewasshakenbyastormofweeping.
Itwasasthoughavistahadopenedbeforeher—avistaofsunlightandtreesandflowers…
Nowtheblackwallshadclosedroundheroncemore.
Chapter8
‘CanIspeaktoyouaminute?’
NadineBoyntonturnedinsurprise,staringintothedarkeagerfaceofanentirelyunknownyoungwoman.
‘Why,certainly.’
Butasshespoke,almostunconsciouslyshethrewaquicknervousglanceoverhershoulder.
‘MynameisSarahKing,’wentontheother.
‘Oh,yes?’
‘MrsBoynton,I’mgoingtosaysomethingratheroddtoyou.Italkedtoyoursister-in-lawforquitealongtimetheotherevening.’
AfaintshadowseemedtoruffletheserenityofNadineBoynton’sface.
‘YoutalkedtoGinevra?’
‘No,nottoGinevra—toCarol.’
Theshadowlifted.
‘Oh,Isee—toCarol.’
NadineBoyntonseemedpleased,butverymuchsurprised.‘Howdidyoumanagethat?’
Sarahsaid:‘Shecametomyroom—quitelate.’
Shesawthefaintraisingofthepencilledbrowsonthewhiteforehead.Shesaidwithsomeembarrassment:‘I’msurethismustseemveryoddtoyou.’
‘No,’saidNadineBoynton.‘Iamveryglad.Verygladindeed.ItisveryniceforCaroltohaveafriendtotalkto.’
‘We—wegotonverywelltogether.’Sarahtriedtochooseherwordscarefully.‘Infactwearrangedto—tomeetagainthefollowingnight.’
‘Yes.’
‘ButCaroldidn’tcome.’
‘Didn’tshe?’
Nadine’svoicewascool—reflective.Herface,soquietandgentle,toldSarahnothing.
‘No.Yesterdayshewaspassingthroughthehall.Ispoketoherandshedidn’tanswer.Justlookedatmeonce,andthenawayagain,andhurriedon.’
‘Isee.’
Therewasapause.Sarahfounditdifficulttogoon.NadineBoyntonsaidpresently:‘I’m—verysorry.Carolis—ratheranervousgirl.’
Againthatpause.Sarahtookhercourageinbothhands.‘Youknow,MrsBoynton,I’mbywayofbeingadoctor.Ithink—Ithinkitwouldbegoodforyoursister-in-lawnotto—nottoshutherselfawaytoomuchfrompeople.’
NadineBoyntonlookedthoughtfullyatSarah.
Shesaid:‘Isee.You’readoctor.Thatmakesadifference.’
‘YouseewhatImean?’Sarahurged.
Nadinebentherhead.Shewasstillthoughtful.
‘Youarequiteright,ofcourse,’shesaidafteraminuteortwo.‘Buttherearedifficulties.Mymother-in-lawisinbadhealthandshehaswhatIcanonlydescribeasamorbiddislikeofanyoutsiderspenetratingintoherfamilycircle.’
Sarahsaidmutinously:‘ButCarolisagrown-upwoman.’
NadineBoyntonshookherhead.
‘Oh,no,’shesaid.‘Inbody,butnotinmind.Ifyoutalkedtoheryoumusthavenoticedthat.Inanemergencyshewouldalwaysbehavelikeafrightenedchild.’
‘Doyouthinkthat’swhathappened?Doyouthinkshebecame—afraid?’
‘Ishouldimagine,MissKing,thatmymother-in-lawinsistedonCarolhavingnothingmoretodowithyou.’
‘AndCarolgavein?’
NadineBoyntonsaidquietly:‘Canyoureallyimagineherdoinganythingelse?’
Theeyesofthetwowomenmet.Sarahfeltthatbehindthemaskofconventionalwordstheyunderstoodeachother.Nadine,shefelt,understoodtheposition.Butshewasclearlynotpreparedtodiscussitinanyway.
Sarahfeltdiscouraged.Theothereveningithadseemedtoherasthoughhalfthebattlewerewon.BymeansofsecretmeetingsshewouldimbueCarolwiththespiritofrevolt—yes,andRaymond,too.(Behonestnow,wasn’titRaymondreallyshehadhadinmindallalong?)Andnow,intheveryfirstroundofthebattleshehadbeenignominiouslydefeatedbythathulkofshapelessfleshwithherevil,gloatingeyes.Carolhadcapitulatedwithoutastruggle.
‘It’sallwrong!’criedSarah.
Nadinedidnotanswer.SomethinginhersilencewenthometoSarahlikeacoldhandlaidonherheart.Shethought:‘ThiswomanknowsthehopelessnessofitmuchbetterthanIdo.She’slivedwithit!’
Theliftgatesopened.TheolderMrsBoyntonemerged.SheleanedonastickandRaymondsupportedherontheotherside.
Sarahgaveaslightstart.Shesawtheoldwoman’seyessweepfromhertoNadineandbackagain.Shehadbeenpreparedfordislikeinthoseeyes—forhatredeven.Shewasnotpreparedforwhatshesaw—atriumphantandmaliciousenjoyment.Sarahturnedaway.Nadinewentforwardandjoinedtheothertwo.
‘Sothereyouare,Nadine,’saidMrsBoynton.‘I’llsitdownandrestalittlebeforeIgoout.’
Theysettledherinahigh-backedchair.Nadinesatdownbesideher.
‘Whowereyoutalkingto,Nadine?’
‘AMissKing.’
‘Oh,yes.ThegirlwhospoketoRaymondtheothernight.Well,Ray,whydon’tyougoandspeaktohernow?She’soverthereatthewriting-table.’
Theoldwoman’smouthwidenedintoamalicioussmileasshelookedatRaymond.Hisfaceflushed.Heturnedhisheadawayandmutteredsomething.
‘What’sthatyousay,son?’
‘Idon’twanttospeaktoher.’
‘No,Ithoughtnot.Youwon’tspeaktoher.Youcouldn’thowevermuchyouwantedto!’
Shecoughedsuddenly—awheezingcough.
‘I’menjoyingthistrip,Nadine,’shesaid.‘Iwouldn’thavemisseditforanything.’
‘No?’
Nadine’svoicewasexpressionless.
‘Ray.’
‘Yes,Mother?’
‘Getmeapieceofnotepaper—fromthetableoverthereinthecorner.’
Raymondwentoffobediently.Nadineraisedherhead.Shewatched,nottheboy,buttheoldwoman.MrsBoyntonwasleaningforward,hernostrilsdilatedasthoughwithpleasure.RaypassedclosebySarah.Shelookedup,asuddenhopeshowinginherface.Itdieddownashebrushedpasther,tooksomenotepaperfromthecaseandwentbackacrosstheroom.
Therewerelittlebeadsofsweatonhisforeheadasherejoinedthem,andhisfacewasdeadwhite.
VerysoftlyMrsBoyntonmurmured:‘Ah…’asshewatchedhisface.
ThenshesawNadine’seyesfixedonher.Somethinginthemmadeherownsnapwithsuddenanger.
‘Where’sMrCopethismorning?’shesaid.
Nadine’seyesdroppedagain.Sheansweredinhergentle,expressionlessvoice:
‘Idon’tknow.Ihaven’tseenhim.’
‘Ilikehim,’saidMrsBoynton.‘Ilikehimverymuch.Wemustseeagooddealofhim.You’lllikethat,won’tyou?’
‘Yes,’saidNadine.‘I,too,likehimverymuch.’
‘What’sthematterwithLennoxlately?Heseemsverydullandquiet.Nothingwrongbetweenyou,isthere?’
‘Oh,no.Whyshouldtherebe?’
‘Iwondered.Marriedpeopledon’talwayshititoff.Perhapsyou’dbehappierlivinginahomeofyourown?’
Nadinedidnotanswer.
‘Well,whatdoyousaytotheidea?Doesitappealtoyou?’
Nadineshookherhead.Shesaid,smiling:‘Idon’tthinkitwouldappealtoyou,Mother.’
MrsBoynton’seyelidsflickered.Shesaidsharplyandvenomously,‘You’vealwaysbeenagainstme,Nadine.’
Theyoungerwomanrepliedevenly:
‘I’msorryyoushouldthinkthat.’
Theoldwoman’shandclosedonherstick.Herfaceseemedtogetashademorepurple.
Shesaid,withachangeoftone:‘Iforgotmydrops.Getthemforme,Nadine.’
‘Certainly.’
Nadinegotupandcrossedtheloungetothelift.MrsBoyntonlookedafterher.Raymondsatlimplyinachair,hiseyesglazedwithdullmisery.
Nadinewentupstairsandalongthecorridor.Sheenteredthesitting-roomoftheirsuite.Lennoxwassittingbythewindow.Therewasabookinhishand,buthewasnotreading.HerousedhimselfasNadinecamein.‘Hallo,Nadine.’
‘I’vecomeupforMother’sdrops.Sheforgotthem.’
ShewentonintoMrsBoynton’sbedroom.Fromabottleonthewashstandshecarefullymeasuredadoseintoasmallmedicineglass,fillingitupwithwater.Asshepassedthroughthesitting-roomagainshepaused.
‘Lennox.’
Itwasamomentortwobeforeheansweredher.Itwasasthoughthemessagehadalongwaytotravel.
Thenhesaid:‘Ibegyourpardon.Whatisit?’
NadineBoyntonsetdowntheglasscarefullyonthetable.Thenshewentoverandstoodbesidehim.
‘Lennox,lookatthesunshine—outthere,throughthewindow.Lookatlife.It’sbeautiful.Wemightbeoutinit—insteadofbeingherelookingthroughawindow.’
Againtherewasapause.Thenhesaid:‘I’msorry.Doyouwanttogoout?’
Sheansweredhimquickly:‘Yes,Iwanttogoout—withyou—outintothesunshine—outintolife—andlive—thetwoofustogether.’
Heshrankbackintohischair.Hiseyeslookedrestless,hunted.
‘Nadine,mydear—mustwegointoallthisagain?’
‘Yes,wemust.Letusgoawayandleadourownlifesomewhere.’
‘Howcanwe?We’venomoney.’
‘Wecanearnmoney.’
‘Howcouldwe?Whatcouldwedo?I’muntrained.Thousandsofmen—qualifiedmen—trainedmen—areoutofajobasitis.Wecouldn’tmanageit.’
‘Iwouldearnmoneyforbothofus.’
‘Mydearchild,you’dneverevencompletedyourtraining.It’shopeless—impossible.’
‘No,whatishopelessandimpossibleisourpresentlife.’
‘Youdon’tknowwhatyouaretalkingabout.Motherisverygoodtous.Shegivesuseveryluxury.’
‘Exceptfreedom.Lennox,makeaneffort.Comewithmenow—today—’
‘Nadine,Ithinkyou’requitemad.’
‘No,I’msane.Absolutelyandcompletelysane.Iwantalifeofmyown,withyou,inthesunshine—notstifledintheshadowofanoldwomanwhoisatyrantandwhodelightsinmakingyouunhappy.’
‘Mothermayberatheranautocrat—’
‘Yourmotherismad!She’sinsane!’
Heansweredmildly:‘That’snottrue.She’sgotaremarkablygoodheadforbusiness.’
‘Perhaps—yes.’
‘Andyoumustrealize,Nadine,shecan’tliveforever.She’sgettingoldandshe’sinverybadhealth.Atherdeathmyfather’smoneyisdividedequallyamongusshareandsharealike.Youremember,shereadusthewill?’
‘Whenshedies,’saidNadine,‘itmaybetoolate.’
‘Toolate?’
‘Toolateforhappiness.’
Lennoxmurmured:‘Toolateforhappiness.’Heshiveredsuddenly.Nadinewentclosertohim.Sheputherhandonhisshoulder
‘Lennox,Iloveyou.It’sabattlebetweenmeandyourmother.Areyougoingtobeonhersideormine?’
‘Onyours—onyours!’
‘ThendowhatIask.’
‘It’simpossible!’
‘No,it’snotimpossible.Think,Lennox,wecouldhavechildren…’
‘Motherwantsustohavechildren.Shehassaidso.’
‘Iknow,butIwon’tbringchildrenintotheworldtoliveintheshadowyouhaveallbeenbroughtupin.Yourmothercaninfluenceyou,butshe’snopoweroverme.’
Lennoxmurmured:‘Youmakeherangrysometimes,Nadine;itisn’twise.’
‘Sheisonlyangrybecausesheknowsthatshecan’tinfluencemymindordictatemythoughts!’
‘Iknowyouarealwayspoliteandgentlewithher.You’rewonderful.You’retoogoodforme.Youalwayshavebeen.Whenyousaidyouwouldmarrymeitwaslikeanunbelievabledream.’
Nadinesaidquietly:‘Iwaswrongtomarryyou.’
Lennoxsaidhopelessly:‘Yes,youwerewrong.’
‘Youdon’tunderstand.WhatImeanisthatifIhadgoneawaythenandaskedyoutofollowmeyouwouldhavedoneso.Yes,Ireallybelieveyouwould…Iwasnotcleverenoughthentounderstandyourmotherandwhatshewanted.’
Shepaused,thenshesaid:‘Yourefusetocomeaway?Well,Ican’tmakeyou.ButIamfreetogo!Ithink—IthinkIshallgo…’
Hestaredupatherincredulously.Forthefirsttimehisreplycamequickly,asthoughatlastthesluggishcurrentofhisthoughtswasaccelerated.Hestammered:‘But—but—youcan’tdothat.Mother—Motherwouldneverhearofit.’
‘Shecouldn’tstopme.’
‘You’venomoney.’
‘Icouldmake,borrow,begorstealit.Understand,Lennox,yourmotherhasnopoweroverme!Icangoorstayatmywill.IambeginningtofeelthatIhavebornethislifelongenough.’
‘Nadine—don’tleaveme—don’tleaveme…’
Shelookedathimthoughtfully—quietly—withaninscrutableexpression.
‘Don’tleaveme,Nadine.’
Hespokelikeachild.Sheturnedherheadaway,sothatheshouldnotseethesuddenpaininhereyes.
Shekneltdownbesidehim.
‘Thencomewithme.Comewithme!Youcan.Indeedyoucanifyouonlywill!’
Heshrankbackfromher.
‘Ican’t.Ican’t,Itellyou.Ihaven’t—Godhelpme—Ihaven’tthecourage…’
Chapter9
DrGerardwalkedintotheofficeofMessrsCastle,thetouristagents,andfoundSarahKingatthecounter.
Shelookedup.
‘Oh,goodmorning.I’mfixingupmytourtoPetra.I’vejustheardyouaregoingafterall.’
‘Yes,IfindIcanjustmanageit.’
‘Hownice.’
‘Shallwebealargeparty,Iwonder?’
‘Theysayjusttwootherwomen—andyouandme.Onecarload.’
‘Thatwillbedelightful,’saidGerard,withalittlebow.Thenhe,inturn,attendedtohisbusiness.
Presently,holdinghismailinhishands,hejoinedSarahasshesteppedoutoftheoffice.Itwasacrisp,sunnyday,withaslightcoldtangintheair.
‘Whatnewsofourfriends,theBoyntons?’askedDrGerard.‘IhavebeentoBethlehemandNazarethandotherplaces—atourofthreedays.’
Slowlyandratherunwillingly,Sarahnarratedherabortiveeffortstoestablishcontact.
‘Anyhow,Ifailed,’shefinished.‘Andthey’releavingtoday.’
‘Wherearetheygoing?’
‘I’venoidea.’
Shewentonvexedly:‘Ifeel,youknow,thatI’vemaderatherafoolofmyself!’
‘Inwhatway?’
‘Interferinginotherpeople’sbusiness.’
Gerardshruggedhisshoulders.
‘Thatisamatterofopinion.’
‘Youmeanwhetheroneshouldinterfereornot?’
‘Yes.’
‘Doyou?’
TheFrenchmanlookedamused.
‘Youmean,isitmyhabittoconcernmyselfwithotherpeople’saffairs?Iwillsaytoyoufrankly:No.’
‘ThenyouthinkI’mwrongtohavetriedbuttingin?’
‘No,no,youmisunderstandme.’Gerardspokequicklyandenergetically.‘Itis,Ithink,amootquestion.Shouldone,ifoneseesawrongbeingdone,attempttoputitright?One’sinterferencemaydogood—butitmaydoincalculableharm!Itisimpossibletolaydownanyrulingonthesubject.Somepeoplehaveageniusforinterference—theydoitwell!Somepeopledoitclumsilyandhadthereforebetterleaveitalone!Thenthereis,too,thequestionofage.Youngpeoplehavethecourageoftheiridealsandconvictions—theirvaluesaremoretheoreticalthanpractical.Theyhavenotexperienced,asyet,thatfactcontradictstheory!Ifyouhaveabeliefinyourselfandintherightnessofwhatyouaredoing,youcanoftenaccomplishthingsthatarewellworthwhile!(Incidentally,youoftendoagooddealofharm!)Ontheotherhand,themiddle-agedpersonhasexperience—hehasfoundthatharmaswellas,andperhapsmoreoftenthan,goodcomesoftryingtointerfereandso—verywisely,herefrains!Sotheresultiseven—theearnestyoungdobothharmandgood—theprudentmiddle-ageddoneither!’
‘Allthatisn’tveryhelpful,’objectedSarah.
‘Canonepersoneverbehelpfultoanother?Itisyourproblem,notmine.’
‘YoumeanyouarenotgoingtodoanythingabouttheBoyntons?’
‘No.Forme,therewouldbenochanceofsuccess.’
‘Thenthereisn’tforme,either?’
‘Foryou,theremightbe.’
‘Why?’
‘Becauseyouhavespecialqualifications.Theappealofyouryouthandsex.’
‘Sex?Oh,Isee.’
‘Onecomesalwaysbacktosex,doesonenot?Youhavefailedwiththegirl.Itdoesnotfollowthatyouwouldfailwithherbrother.Whatyouhavejusttoldme(whatthegirlCaroltoldyou)showsveryclearlytheonemenacetoMrsBoynton’sautocracy.Theeldestson,Lennox,defiedherintheforceofhisyoungmanhood.Heplayedtruantfromhome,wenttolocaldances.Thedesireofamanforamatewasstrongerthanthehypnoticspell.Buttheoldwomanwasquiteawareofthepowerofsex.(Shewillhaveseensomethingofitinhercareer.)Shedealtwithitverycleverly—broughtaprettybutpennilessgirlintothehouse—encouragedamarriage.Andsoacquiredyetanotherslave.’
Sarahshookherhead.
‘Idon’tthinkyoungMrsBoyntonisaslave.’
Gerardagreed.
‘No,perhapsnot.Ithinkthat,becauseshewasaquiet,docileyounggirl,oldMrsBoyntonunderestimatedherforceofwillandcharacter.NadineBoyntonwastooyoungandinexperiencedatthetimetoappreciatethetrueposition.Sheappreciatesitnow,butitistoolate.’
‘Doyouthinkshehasgivenuphope?’
DrGerardshookhisheaddoubtfully.
‘Ifshehasplansnoonewouldknowaboutthem.Thereare,youknow,certainpossibilitieswhereCopeisconcerned.Manisanaturallyjealousanimal—andjealousyisastrongforce.LennoxBoyntonmightstillberousedfromtheinertiainwhichheissinking.’
‘Andyouthink’—Sarahpurposelymadehertoneverybusiness-likeandprofessional—‘thatthere’sachanceImightbeabletodosomethingaboutRaymond?’
‘Ido.’
Sarahsighed.
‘IsupposeImighthavetried.Oh,well,it’stoolatenow,anyway.And—andIdon’tliketheidea.’
Gerardlookedamused.
‘ThatisbecauseyouareEnglish!TheEnglishhaveacomplexaboutsex.Theythinkitis“notquitenice”.’
Sarah’sindignantresponsefailedtomovehim.
‘Yes,yes;Iknowyouareverymodern—thatyouusefreelyinpublicthemostunpleasantwordsyoucanfindinthedictionary—thatyouareprofessionalandentirelyuninhibited!Toutdemême,Irepeat,youhavethesamefacialcharacteristicsasyourmotherandyourgrandmother.YouarestilltheblushingEnglishMissalthoughyoudonotblush!’
‘Ineverheardsuchrubbish!’
DrGerard,atwinkleinhiseye,andquiteunperturbed,added:‘Anditmakesyouverycharming.’
ThistimeSarahwasspeechless.
DrGerardhastilyraisedhishat.‘Itakemyleave,’hesaid,‘beforeyouhavetimetobegintosayallthatyouthink.’Heescapedintothehotel.
Sarahfollowedhimmoreslowly.
Therewasagooddealofactivitygoingon.Severalcarsloadedwithluggagewereintheprocessofdeparting.LennoxandNadineBoyntonandMrCopewerestandingbyabigsalooncarsuperintendingarrangements.AfatdragomanwasstandingtalkingtoCarolwithquiteunintelligiblefluency.
Sarahpassedthemandwentintothehotel.
MrsBoynton,wrappedinathickcoat,wassittinginachair,waitingtodepart.Lookingather,aqueerrevulsionoffeelingsweptoverSarah.ShehadfeltthatMrsBoyntonwasasinisterfigure,anincarnationofevilmalignancy.
Now,suddenly,shesawtheoldwomanasapatheticineffectualfigure.Tobebornwithsuchalustforpower,suchadesirefordominion—andtoachieveonlyapettydomestictyranny!IfonlyherchildrencouldseeherasSarahsawherthatminute—anobjectofpity—astupid,malignant,pathetic,posturingoldwoman.OnanimpulseSarahwentuptoher.
‘Goodbye,MrsBoynton,’shesaid.‘Ihopeyou’llhaveanicetrip.’
Theoldladylookedather.Malignancystruggledwithoutrageinthoseeyes.
‘You’vewantedtobeveryrudetome,’saidSarah.
(Wasshecrazy,shewondered,whatonearthwasurgingherontotalklikethis?)
‘You’vetriedtopreventyoursonanddaughtermakingfriendswithme.Don’tyouthink,really,thatthatisallverysillyandchildish?Youliketomakeyourselfoutakindofogre,butreally,youknow,you’rejustpatheticandratherludicrous.IfIwereyouI’dgiveupallthissillyplay-acting.Iexpectyou’llhatemeforsayingthis,butImeanit—andsomeofitmaystick.Youknowyoucouldhavealotoffunstill.It’sreallymuchbettertobe—friendly—andkind.Youcouldbeifyoutried.’
Therewasapause.
MrsBoyntonhadfrozenintoadeadlyimmobility.Atlastshepassedhertongueoverherdrylips,hermouthopened…Stillforamoment,nowordscame.
‘Goon,’saidSarahencouragingly.‘Sayit!Itdoesn’tmatterwhatyousaytome.ButthinkoverwhatI’vesaidtoyou.’
Thewordscameatlast—inasoft,husky,butpenetratingvoice.MrsBoynton’sbasiliskeyeslooked,notatSarah,butoddlyoverhershoulder.Sheseemedtoaddress,notSarah,butsomefamiliarspirit.
‘Ineverforget,’shesaid.‘Rememberthat.I’veneverforgottenanything—notanaction,notaname,notaface…’
Therewasnothinginthewordsthemselves,butthevenomwithwhichtheywerespokenmadeSarahretreatastep.AndthenMrsBoyntonlaughed—itwas,definitely,ratherahorriblelaugh.
Sarahshruggedhershoulders.‘Youpooroldthing,’shesaid.
Sheturnedaway.AsshewenttowardstheliftshealmostcollidedwithRaymondBoynton.Onanimpulseshespokequickly.
‘Goodbye.Ihopeyou’llhavealovelytime.Perhapswe’llmeetagainsomeday.’Shesmiledathim,awarm,friendlysmile,andpassedquicklyon.
Raymondstoodasthoughturnedtostone.Solostinhisownthoughtswashethatasmallmanwithbigmoustaches,endeavouringtopassoutofthelift,hadtospeakseveraltimes.
‘Pardon.’
Atlastitpenetrated.Raymondsteppedaside.
‘Sosorry,’hesaid.‘I—Iwasthinking.’
Carolcametowardshim.
‘Ray,getJinny,willyou?Shewentbacktoherroom.We’regoingtostart.’
‘Right.I’lltellhershe’sgottocomestraightaway.’
Raymondwalkedintothelift.
HerculePoirotstoodforamomentlookingafterhim,hiseyebrowsraised,hisheadalittleononesideasthoughhewaslistening.
Thenhenoddedhisheadasthoughinagreement.Walkingthroughthelounge,hetookagoodlookatCarol,whohadjoinedhermother.
Thenhebeckonedtheheadwaiterwhowaspassing.
‘Pardon.Canyoutellmethenameofthosepeopleoverthere?’
‘ThenameisBoynton,monsieur;theyareAmericans.’
‘Thankyou,’saidHerculePoirot.
OnthethirdfloorDrGerard,goingtohisroom,passedRaymondBoyntonandGinevrawalkingtowardsthewaitinglift.Justastheywereabouttogetintoit,Ginevrasaid:‘Justaminute,Ray,waitformeinthelift.’
Sheranback,turnedacorner,caughtupwiththewalkingman.‘Please—Imustspeaktoyou.’
DrGerardlookedupinastonishment.
Thegirlcameupclosetohimandcaughthisarm.
‘They’retakingmeaway!Theymaybegoingtokillme…Idon’treallybelongtothem,youknow.Mynameisn’treallyBoynton…’
Shehurriedon,herwordscomingfastandtumblingovereachother.
‘I’lltrustyouwiththesecret.I’m—I’mroyal,really!I’mtheheiresstoathrone.That’swhy—thereareenemiesallroundme.Theytrytopoisonme—allsortsofthings…Ifyoucouldhelpme—togetaway—’
Shebrokeoff.Footsteps.‘Jinny—’
Beautifulinhersuddenstartledgesture,thegirlputafingertoherlips,threwGerardanimploringglance,andranback.
‘I’mcoming,Ray.’
DrGerardwalkedonwithhiseyebrowsraised.Slowlyheshookhisheadandfrowned.
Chapter10
ItwasthemorningofthestarttoPetra.
Sarahcamedowntofindabigmasterfulwomanwitharocking-horsenose,whomshehadalreadynoticedinthehotel,outsidethemainentrance,objectingfiercelytothesizeofthecar.
‘Agreatdealtoosmall!Fourpassengers?Andadragoman?Then,ofcourse,wemusthaveamuchlargersaloon.Pleasetakethatcarawayandreturnwithoneofanadequatesize.’
InvaindidtherepresentativeofMessrsCastleraisehisvoiceinexplanation.Thatwasthesizeofcaralwaysprovided.Itwasreallyamostcomfortablecar.Alargercarwasnotsuitablefordeserttravel.Thelargewoman,metaphoricallyspeaking,rolledoverhimlikealargesteamroller.
ThensheturnedherattentiontoSarah.
‘MissKing?IamLadyWestholme.Iamsureyouagreewithmethatthatcarwasgrosslyinadequateastosize?’
‘Well,’saidSarahcautiously,‘Iagreethatalargeronewouldbemorecomfortable!’
TheyoungmanfromCastle’smurmuredthatalargercarwouldaddtotheprice
‘Theprice,’saidLadyWestholmefirmly,‘isinclusive,andIshallcertainlyrefusetosanctionanyadditiontoit.Yourprospectusdistinctlystates“incomfortablesalooncar”.Youwillkeeptothetermsofyouragreement.’
Recognizingdefeat,theyoungmanfromCastle’smurmuredsomethingaboutseeingwhathecoulddoandwiltedawayfromthespot.
LadyWestholmeturnedtoSarah,asmileoftriumphonherweather-beatencountenance,herlargeredrocking-horsenostrilsdilatedexultantly.
LadyWestholmewasaverywell-knownfigureintheEnglishpoliticalworld.WhenLordWestholme,amiddle-aged,simple-mindedpeerwhoseonlyinterestsinlifewerehunting,shootingandfishing,wasreturningfromatriptotheUnitedStates,oneofhisfellowpassengerswasaMrsVansittart.ShortlyafterwardsMrsVansittartbecameLadyWestholme.Thematchwasoftencitedasoneoftheexamplesofthedangerofoceanvoyages.ThenewLadyWestholmelivedentirelyintweedsandstoutbrogues,breddogs,bulliedthevillagersandforcedherhusbandpitilesslyintopubliclife.Itbeingborneinuponher,however,thatpoliticswerenotLordWestholme’smétierinlifeandneverwouldbe,shegraciouslyallowedhimtoresumehissportingactivitiesandherselfstoodforParliament.Beingelectedwithasubstantialmajority,LadyWestholmethrewherselfwithvigourintopoliticallife,beingespeciallyactiveatQuestionTime.Cartoonsofhersoonbegantoappear(alwaysasuresignofsuccess).Asapublicfigureshestoodfortheold-fashionedvaluesoffamilylife,welfareworkamongstwomen,andwasanardentsupporteroftheLeagueofNations.ShehaddecidedviewsonquestionsofAgriculture,HousingandSlumClearance.Shewasmuchrespectedandalmostuniversallydisliked!Itwashighlypossiblethatshewouldbegivenanunder-secretaryshipwhenherpartyreturnedtopower.AtthemomentaLiberalGovernment(owingtoasplitintheNationalGovernmentbetweenLabourandConservatives)wassomewhatunexpectedlyinpower.
LadyWestholmelookedwithgrimsatisfactionafterthedepartingcar.‘Menalwaysthinktheycanimposeuponwomen,’shesaid.
SarahthoughtthatitwouldbeabravemanwhothoughthecouldimposeuponLadyWestholme!SheintroducedDrGerard,whohadjustcomeoutofthehotel.
‘Yournameis,ofcourse,familiartome,’saidLadyWestholme,shakinghands.‘IwastalkingtoProfessorChantereautheotherdayinParis.Ihavebeentakingupthequestionofthetreatmentofpauperlunaticsverystronglylately.Verystronglyindeed.Shallwecomeinsidewhilewewaitforabettercartobeobtained?’
Avaguelittlemiddle-agedladywithwispsofgreyhairwhowashoveringnearbyturnedouttobeMissAmabelPierce,thefourthmemberoftheparty.She,too,wassweptintotheloungeunderLadyWestholme’sprotectingwing.
‘Youareaprofessionalwoman,MissKing?’
‘I’vejusttakenmyM.B.’
‘Good,’saidLadyWestholmewithcondescendingapproval.‘Ifanythingistobeaccomplished,markmywords,itiswomenwhowilldoit.’
Uneasilyconsciousforthefirsttimeofhersex,SarahfollowedLadyWestholmemeeklytoaseat.
There,astheysatwaiting,LadyWestholmeinformedthemthatshehadrefusedaninvitationtostaywiththeHighCommissionerduringherstayinJerusalem.‘Ididnotwanttobehamperedbyofficialdom.Iwishedtolookintothingsbymyself.’
‘Whatthings?’Sarahwondered.
LadyWestholmewentontoexplainthatshewasstayingattheSolomonHotelsoastoremainunhampered.Sheaddedthatshehadmadeseveralsuggestionstothemanagerforthemorecompetentrunningofhishotel.
‘Efficiency,’saidLadyWestholme,‘ismywatchword.’
Itcertainlyseemedtobe!Inaquarterofanhouralargeandextremelycomfortablecararrivedandinduecourse—afteradvicefromLadyWestholmeastohowtheluggageshouldbestowed—thepartysetoff.
TheirfirsthaltwastheDeadSea.TheyhadlunchatJericho.AfterwardswhenLadyWestholme,armedwithaBaedeker,hadgoneoffwithMissPierce,thedoctorandthefatdragoman,todoatourofoldJericho,Sarahremainedinthegardenofthehotel.
Herheadachedslightlyandshewantedtobealone.Adeepdepressionweighedherdown—adepressionforwhichshefoundithardtoaccount.Shefeltsuddenlylistlessanduninterested,disinclinedforsightseeing,boredbyhercompanions.ShewishedatthismomentthatshehadnevercommittedherselftothisPetratour.Itwasgoingtobeveryexpensiveandshefeltquitesureshewasn’tgoingtoenjoyit!LadyWestholme’sboomingvoice,MissPierce’sendlesstwitterings,andtheanti-Zionistlamentationofthedragoman,werealreadyfrayinghernervestoafrazzle.ShedislikedalmostasmuchDrGerard’samusedairofknowingexactlyhowshewasfeeling.
ShewonderedwheretheBoyntonswerenow—perhapstheyhadgoneontoSyria—theymightbeatBaalbekorDamascus.Raymond—shewonderedwhatRaymondwasdoing.Strangehowclearlyshecouldseehisface—itseagerness—itsdiffidence—itsnervoustension…
Oh,hell!Whygoonthinkingofpeopleshewouldprobablyneverseeagain?Thatscenetheotherdaywiththeoldwoman—whatcouldhavepossessedhertomarchuptotheoldladyandspurtoutalotofnonsense.Otherpeoplemusthaveheardsomeofit.ShefanciedthatLadyWestholmehadbeenquitecloseby.Sarahtriedtorememberexactlywhatitwasshehadsaid.Somethingthatprobablysoundedquiteabsurdlyhysterical.Goodness,whatafoolshehadmadeofherself!Butitwasn’therfaultreally;itwasoldMrsBoynton’s.Therewassomethingaboutherthatmadeyouloseyoursenseofproportion.
DrGerardenteredandplumpeddowninachair,wipinghishotforehead.
‘Phew!Thatwomanshouldbepoisoned!’hedeclared.
Sarahstarted.‘MrsBoynton?’
‘MrsBoynton!No,ImeantthatLadyWestholme!Itisincredibletomethatshehashadahusbandformanyyearsandthathehasnotalreadydoneso.Whatcanhebemadeof,thathusband?’
Sarahlaughed.
‘Oh,he’sthe“huntin’,fishin’,shootin’”kind,’sheexplained.
‘Psychologicallythatisverysound!Heappeaseshislusttokillonthe(so-called)lowercreations.’
‘Ibelieveheisveryproudofhiswife’sactivities.’
TheFrenchmansuggested:
‘Becausetheytakeheragooddealawayfromhome?Thatisunderstandable.’Thenhewenton,‘Whatdidyousayjustnow?MrsBoynton?Undoubtedlyitwouldbeaverygoodideatopoisonher,too.Undeniablythesimplestsolutionofthatfamilyproblem!Infactagreatmanywomenwouldbebetterpoisoned.Allwomenwhohavegrownoldandugly.’
Hemadeanexpressiveface.
Sarahcriedout,laughing:
‘Oh,youFrenchmen!You’vegotnouseforanywomanwhoisn’tyoungandattractive.’
Gerardshruggedhisshoulders.
‘Wearemorehonestaboutit,thatisall.Englishmen,theydonotgetupintubesandtrainsforuglywomen—no,no.’
‘Howdepressinglifeis,’saidSarahwithasigh.
‘Thereisnoneedforyoutosigh,mademoiselle.’
‘Well,Ifeelthoroughlydisgruntledtoday.’
‘Naturally.’
‘Whatdoyoumean—naturally?’snappedSarah.
‘Youcouldfindthereasonveryeasilyifyouexamineyourstateofmindhonestly.’
‘Ithinkit’sourfellowtravelerswhodepressme,’saidSarah.‘It’sawful,isn’tit,butIdohatewomen!Whenthey’reinefficientandidioticlikeMissPierce,theyinfuriateme—and,whenthey’reefficientlikeLadyWestholme,theyannoymemorestill.’
‘Itis,Ishouldsay,unavoidablethatthesetwopeopleshouldannoyyou.LadyWestholmeisexactlyfittedtothelifesheleadsandiscompletelyhappyandsuccessful.MissPiercehasworkedforyearsasanurserygovernessandhassuddenlycomeintoasmalllegacywhichhasenabledhertofulfillherlife-longwishandtravel.Sofar,travelhasliveduptoherexpectations.Consequentlyyou,whohavejustbeenthwartedinobtainingwhatyouwant,naturallyresenttheexistenceofpeoplewhohavebeenmoresuccessfulinlifethanyouare.’
‘Isupposeyou’reright,’saidSarahgloomily.‘Whatahorriblyaccuratemind-readeryouare.Ikeeptryingtohumbugmyselfandyouwon’tletme.’
Atthismomenttheothersreturned.Theguideseemedthemostexhaustedofthethree.HewasquitesubduedandhardlyexudedanyinformationonthewaytoAmman.HedidnotevenmentiontheJews.Forwhicheveryonewasprofoundlygrateful.Hisvolubleandfrenziedaccountoftheiriniquitieshaddonemuchtotryeveryone’stemperonthejourneyfromJerusalem.
NowtheroadwoundupwardfromtheJordan,twistingandturning,withclumpsofoleandersshowingrose-colouredflowers.
TheyreachedAmmanlateintheafternoonandafterashortvisittotheGraeco-Romantheatrewenttobedearly.Theyweretomakeanearlystartthenextmorningasitwasafullday’smotorrunacrossthedeserttoMa’an.
Theyleftsoonaftereighto’clock.Thepartywasinclinedtobesilent.Itwasahotairlessdayandbynoonwhenahaltwasmadeforapicniclunchtobeeaten,itwasreallystiflinglyhot.Theirritationofahotdayofbeingboxedupcloselywiththreeotherhumanbeingshadgotalittleoneveryone’snerves.
LadyWestholmeandDrGerardhadasomewhatirritableargumentovertheLeagueofNations.LadyWestholmewasaferventsupporteroftheLeague.TheFrenchman,ontheotherhand,chosetobewittyattheLeague’sexpense.FromtheattitudeoftheLeagueconcerningAbyssiniaandSpaintheypassedtotheLitvaniaboundarydisputeofwhichSarahhadneverheardandfromtheretotheactivitiesoftheLeagueinsuppressingdopegangs.
‘Youmustadmittheyhavedonewonderfulwork.Wonderful!’snappedLadyWestholme.
DrGerardshruggedhisshoulders.
‘Perhaps.Andatwonderfulexpensetoo!’
‘Thematterisaveryseriousone.UndertheDangerousDrugsAct—’Theargumentwagedon.
MissPiercetwitteredtoSarah:‘ItisreallymostinterestingtravellingwithLadyWestholme.’
Sarahsaidacidly:‘Isit?’butMissPiercedidnotnoticetheacerbityandtwitteredhappilyon.
‘I’vesooftenseenhernameinthepapers.Socleverofwomentogointopubliclifeandholdtheirown.I’malwayssogladwhenawomanaccomplishessomething!’
‘Why?’demandedSarahferociously.
MissPierce’smouthfellopenandshestammeredalittle.
‘Oh,because—Imean—justbecause—well—it’ssonicethatwomenareabletodothings!’
‘Idon’tagree,’saidSarah.‘It’snicewhenanyhumanbeingisabletoaccomplishsomethingworthwhile!Itdoesn’tmatterabitwhetherit’samanorawoman.Whyshouldit?’
‘Well,ofcourse—’saidMissPierce.‘Yes,Iconfess—ofcourse,lookingatitinthatlight—’
Butshelookedslightlywistful.Sarahsaidmoregently:
‘I’msorry,butIdohatethisdifferentiationbetweenthesexes.“Themoderngirlhasathoroughlybusiness-likeattitudetowardslife.”Thatsortofthing.It’snotabittrue!Somegirlsarebusiness-likeandsomearen’t.
Somemenaresentimentalandmuddle-headed,othersareclear-headedandlogical.Therearejustdifferenttypesofbrains.Sexonlymatterswheresexisdirectlyconcerned.’
MissPierceflushedalittleatthewordsexandadroitlychangedthesubject.
‘Onecan’thelpwishingthattherewerealittleshade,’shemurmured.‘ButIdothinkallthisemptinessissowonderful,don’tyou?’
Sarahnodded.
Yes,shethought,theemptinesswasmarvellous…Healing…Peaceful…Nohumanbeingstoagitateonewiththeirtiresomeinter-relationships…Noburningpersonalproblems!Now,atlast,shefelt,shewasfreeoftheBoyntons.Freeofthatstrangecompellingwishtointerfereinthelivesofpeoplewhoseorbitdidnotremotelytouchherown.Shefeltsoothedandatpeace.Herewasloneliness,emptiness,spaciousness…Infact,peace…
Only,ofcourse,onewasn’talonetoenjoyit.LadyWestholmeandDrGerardhadfinishedwithdrugsandwerenowarguingaboutguilelessyoungwomenwhowereexportedinasinistermannertoArgentiniancabarets.DrGerardhaddisplayedthroughouttheconversationalevitywhichLadyWestholme,who,beingatruepolitician,hadnosenseofhumour,founddefinitelydeplorable.
‘Wegoonnow,yes?’announcedthetarbrusheddragoman,andbegantotalkabouttheiniquitiesofJewsagain.
ItwasaboutanhouroffsunsetwhentheyreachedMa’anatlast.Strangewild-facedmencrowdedroundthecar.Afterashorthalttheywenton.
Lookingovertheflatdesertcountry,SarahwasatalossastowheretherockystrongholdofPetracouldbe.Surelytheycouldseeformilesandmilesallroundthem?Therewerenomountains,nohillsanywhere.Werethey,then,stillmanymilesfromtheirjourney’send?
TheyreachedthevillageofAinMusawherethecarsweretobeleft.Herehorseswerewaitingforthem—sorry-lookingthinbeasts.Theinadequacyofherstripedwashing-frockdisturbedMissPiercegreatly.LadyWestholmewassensiblyattiredinridingbreeches,notperhapsaparticularlybecomingstyletohertypeoffigure,butcertainlypractical.
Thehorseswereledoutofthevillagealongaslipperypathwithloosestones.Thegroundfellawayandthehorseszig-zaggeddown.Thesunwascloseonsetting.
Sarahwasverytiredwiththelong,hotjourneyinthecar.Hersensesfeltdazed.Theridewaslikeadream.ItseemedtoherafterwardsthatitwaslikethepitofHellopeningatone’sfeet.Thewaywounddown—downintotheground.Theshapesofrockroseuproundthem—down,downintothebowelsoftheearth,throughalabyrinthofredcliffs.Theytowerednowoneitherside.Sarahfeltstifled—menacedbytheever-narrowinggorge.
Shethoughtconfusedlytoherself:‘Downintothevalleyofdeath—downintothevalleyofdeath…’
Onandon.Itgrewdark—thevividredofthewallsfaded—andstillon,windinginandout,imprisoned,lostinthebowelsoftheearth.
Shethought:‘It’sfantasticandunbelievable…adeadcity.’
Andagainlikearefraincamethewords:‘Thevalleyofdeath…’
Lanternswerelitnow.Thehorseswoundalongthroughthenarrowways.Suddenlytheycameoutintoawidespace—thecliffsreceded.Faraheadofthemwasaclusteroflights.
‘Thatiscamp!’saidtheguide.
Thehorsesquickenedtheirpacealittle—notverymuch—theyweretoostarvedanddispiritedforthat,buttheyshowedjustashadeofenthusiasm.Nowthewayranalongagravellywater-bed.Thelightsgrewnearer.
Theycouldseeaclusteroftents,ahigherrowupagainstthefaceofacliff.Caves,too,hollowedoutintherock.
Theywerearriving.Bedouinservantscamerunningout.
Sarahstaredupatoneofthecaves.Itheldasittingfigure.Whatwasit?Anidol?Agiganticsquattingimage?
No,thatwastheflickeringlightsthatmadeitloomsolarge.Butitmustbeanidolofsomekind,sittingthereimmovable,broodingovertheplace…
Andthen,suddenlyherheartgavealeapofrecognition.
Gonewasthefeelingofpeace—ofescape—thatthedeserthadgivenher.Shehadbeenledfromfreedombackintocaptivity.Shehadriddendownintothisdarkwindingvalleyandhere,likeanarchpriestessofsomeforgottencult,likeamonstrousswollenfemaleBuddha,satMrsBoynton…
Chapter11
MrsBoyntonwashere,atPetra!
Sarahansweredmechanicallyquestionsthatwereaddressedtoher.Wouldshehavedinnerstraightaway—itwasready—orwouldsheliketowashfirst?Wouldsheprefertosleepinatentoracave?
Heranswertothatcamequickly.Atent.Sheflinchedatthethoughtofacave,thevisionofthatmonstroussquattingfigurerecurredtoher.(Whywasitthatsomethingaboutthewomanseemedhardlyhuman?)
Finallyshefollowedoneofthenativeservants.Heworekhakibreeches,muchpatched,anduntidyputteesandaraggedcoatverymuchtheworseforwear.Onhisheadthenativeheaddress,thecheffiyah,itslongfoldsprotectingtheneckandsecuredinplacewithablacksilktwistfittingtightlytothecrownofhishead.Sarahadmiredtheeasyswingwithwhichhewalked—thecarelessproudcarriageofhishead.OnlytheEuropeanpartofhiscostumeseemedtawdryandwrong.Shethought:‘Civilizationisallwrong—allwrong!Butforcivilizationtherewouldn’tbeaMrsBoynton!Insavagetribesthey’dprobablyhavekilledandeatenheryearsago!’
Sherealized,half-humorously,thatshewasover-tiredandonedge.Awashinhotwaterandadustingofpowderoverherfaceandshefeltherselfagain—cool,poised,andashamedofherrecentpanic.
Shepassedacombthroughherthickblackhair,squintingsidewaysatherreflectioninthewaveringlightofasmalloil-lampinaveryinadequateglass.
Thenshepushedasidethetent-flapandcameoutintothenightpreparedtodescendtothebigmarqueebelow.
‘You—here?’
Itwasalowcry—dazed,incredulous.
SheturnedtolookstraightintoRaymondBoynton’seyes.Soamazedtheywere!Andsomethinginthemheldhersilentandalmostafraid.Suchanunbelievablejoy…ItwasasthoughhehadseenavisionofParadise—wondering,dazed,thankful,humble!Never,inallherlife,wasSarahtoforgetthatlook.SomightthedamnedlookupandseeParadise…
Hesaidagain:‘You…’
Itdidsomethingtoher—thatlow,vibranttone.Itmadeherheartturnoverinherbreast.Itmadeherfeelshy,afraid,humbleandyetsuddenlyarrogantlyglad.Shesaidquitesimply:‘Yes.’
Hecamenearer—stilldazed—stillonlyhalfbelieving.
Thensuddenlyhetookherhand.
‘Itisyou,’hesaid.‘You’rereal.Ithoughtatfirstyouwereaghost—becauseI’dbeenthinkingaboutyousomuch.’Hepausedandthensaid,‘Iloveyou,youknow…IhavefromthemomentIsawyouinthetrain.Iknowthatnow.AndIwantyoutoknowitsothat—sothatyou’llknowitisn’tme—therealme—who—whobehavessocaddishly.YouseeIcan’tanswerformyselfevennow.Imightdo–anything!Imightpassyoubyorcutyou,butIdowantyoutoknowthatitisn’tme—therealme—whoisresponsibleforthat.It’smynerves.Ican’tdependonthem…Whenshetellsmetodothings—Idothem!Mynervesmakeme!Youwillunderstand,won’tyou?Despisemeifyouhaveto—’
Sheinterruptedhim.Hervoicewaslowandunexpectedlysweet.‘Iwon’tdespiseyou.’
‘Allthesame,I’mprettydespicable!Ioughtto—tobeabletobehavelikeaman.’
ItwaspartlyanechoofGerard’sadvice,butmoreoutofherownknowledgeandhopethatSarahanswered—andbehindthesweetnessofhervoicetherewasaringofcertaintyandconsciousauthority.
‘Youwillnow.’
‘ShallI?’Hisvoicewaswistful.‘Perhaps…’
‘You’llhavecouragenow.I’msureofit.’
Hedrewhimselfup—flungbackhishead
‘Courage?Yes,that’sallthat’sneeded.Courage!’
Suddenlyhebenthishead,touchedherhandwithhislips.Aminutelaterhehadlefther.
Chapter12
Sarahwentdowntothebigmarquee.Shefoundherthreefellowtravelersthere.Theyweresittingattableeating.Theguidewasexplainingthattherewasanotherpartyhere.
‘Theycametwodaysago.Godayaftertomorrow.Americans.Themother,veryfat,verydifficultgethere!Carriedinchairbybearers—theysayveryhardwork—theygetveryhot—yes.’
Sarahgaveasuddenspurtoflaughter.Ofcourse,takeitproperly,thewholethingwasfunny!
Thefatdragomanlookedathergratefully.Hewasnotfindinghistasktooeasy.LadyWestholmehadcontradictedhimoutofBaedekerthreetimesthatdayandhadnowfoundfaultwiththetypeofbedprovided.Hewasgratefultotheonememberofhispartywhoseemedtobeunaccountablyinagoodtemper.
‘Ha!’saidLadyWestholme.‘IthinkthesepeoplewereattheSolomon.Irecognizedtheoldmotheraswearrivedhere.IthinkIsawyoutalkingtoheratthehotel,MissKing.’
Sarahblushedguiltily,hopingLadyWestholmehadnotoverheardmuchofthatconversation.
‘Really,whatpossessedme!’shethoughttoherselfinanagony.
InthemeantimeLadyWestholmehadmadeapronouncement.‘Notinterestingpeopleatall.Veryprovincial,’shesaid
MissPiercemadeeagersycophantishnoisesandLadyWestholmeembarkedonahistoryofvariousinterestingandprominentAmericanswhomshehadmetrecently
Theweatherbeingsounusuallyhotforthetimeofyear,anearlystartwasarrangedforthemorrow.
Thefourassembledforbreakfastatsixo’clock.TherewerenosignsofanyoftheBoyntonfamily.AfterLadyWestholmehadcommentedunfavourablyontheabsenceoffruit,theyconsumedtea,tinnedmilk,andfriedeggsinagenerousallowanceoffatflankedbyextremelysaltbacon.
Thentheystartedforth,LadyWestholmeandDrGerarddiscussingwithanimationonthepartoftheformertheexactvalueofvitaminsindietandthepropernutritionoftheworkingclasses.
Thentherewasasuddenhailfromthecampandtheyhaltedtoallowanotherpersontojointheparty.ItwasMrJeffersonCopewhohurriedafterthem,hispleasantfaceflushedwiththeexertionofrunning.
‘Why,ifyoudon’tmind,I’dliketojoinyourpartythismorning.Goodmorning,MissKing.QuiteasurprisemeetingyouandDrGerardhere.Whatdoyouthinkofit?’
Hemadeagestureindicatingthefantasticredrocksthatstretchedineverydirection.
‘Ithinkit’sratherwonderfulandjustalittlehorrible,’saidSarah.‘Ialwaysthoughtofitasromanticanddream-like—the“rose-redcity”.Butit’smuchmorerealthanthat—it’sasrealas—asrawbeef.’
‘Andverymuchthecolourofit,’agreedMrCope.
‘Butit’smarvelous,too,’admittedSarah.
Thepartybegantoclimb.TwoBedouinguidesaccompaniedthem.Tallmen,withaneasycarriage,theyswungupwardunconcernedlyintheirhobnailedbootscompletelyfoot-sureontheslipperyslope.Difficultiessoonbegan.SarahhadagoodheadforheightsandsohadDrGerard.ButbothMrCopeandLadyWestholmewerefarfromhappy,andtheunfortunateMissPiercehadtobealmostcarriedovertheprecipitousplaces,hereyesshut,herfacegreen,whilehervoiceroseceaselesslyinaperpetualwail.
‘Inevercouldlookdownplaces.Never—fromachild!’
Onceshedeclaredherintentionofgoingback,butonturningtofacethedescent,herskinassumedanevengreenertinge,andshereluctantlydecidedthattogoonwastheonlythingtobedone.
DrGerardwaskindandreassuring.Hewentupbehindher,holdingastickbetweenherandthesheerdroplikeabalustradeandsheconfessedthattheillusionofaraildidmuchtoconquerthefeelingofvertigo.
Sarah,pantingalittle,askedthedragoman,Mahmoud,who,inspiteofhisampleproportions,showednosignsofdistress:
‘Don’tyoueverhavetroublegettingpeopleuphere?Elderlyones,Imean.’
‘Always—alwayswehavetrouble,’agreedMahmoudserenely.
‘Doyoualwaystryandtakethem?’
Mahmoudshruggedhisthickshoulders.
‘Theyliketocome.Theyhavepaidmoneytoseethesethings.Theywishtoseethem.TheBedouinguidesareveryclever—verysure-footed—alwaystheymanage.’
Theyarrivedatlastatthesummit.Sarahdrewadeepbreath.
Allaroundandbelowstretchedtheblood-redrocks—astrangeandunbelievablecountryunparalleledanywhere.Hereintheexquisitepuremorningairtheystoodlikegods,surveyingabaserworld—aworldofflaringviolence.
Herewas,astheguidetoldthem,the‘PlaceofSacrifice’—the‘HighPlace’.Heshowedthemthetroughcutintheflatrockattheirfeet.
Sarahstrayedawayfromtherest,fromtheglibphrasesthatflowedsoreadilyfromthedragoman’stongue.Shesatonarock,pushedherhandsthroughherthickblackhair,andgazeddownontheworldatherfeet.Presentlyshewasawareofsomeonestandingbyherside.DrGerard’svoicesaid:
‘Youappreciatetheappositenessofthedevil’stemptationintheNewTestament.SatantookOurLorduptothesummitofamountainandshowedHimtheworld.“AllthesethingswillIgivethee,ifthouwiltfalldownandworshipme.”HowmuchgreaterthetemptationuponhightobeaGodofMaterialPower.’
Sarahassented,butherthoughtsweresoclearlyelsewherethatGerardobservedherinsomesurprise.
‘Youareponderingsomethingverydeeply,’hesaid.
‘Yes,Iam.’Sheturnedaperplexedfacetohim.
‘It’sawonderfulidea—tohaveaplaceofsacrificeuphere.Ithinksometimes,don’tyou,thatasacrificeisnecessary…Imean,onecanhavetoomuchregardforlife.Deathisn’treallysoimportantaswemakeout.’
‘Ifyoufeelthat,MissKing,youshouldnothaveadoptedourprofession.Tous,Deathisandmustalwaysbe—theEnemy.’
Sarahshivered.
‘Yes,Isupposeyou’reright.Andyet,sooftendeathmightsolveaproblem.Itmightmean,even,fullerlife…’
‘Itisexpedientforusthatonemanshoulddieforthepeople!’quotedGerardgravely.
Sarahturnedastartledfaceonhim.
‘Ididn’tmean—’Shebrokeoff.JeffersonCopewasapproachingthem.
‘Nowthisisreallyamostremarkablespot,’hedeclared.‘Mostremarkable,andI’monlytoopleasednottohavemissedit.Idon’tmindconfessingthatthoughMrsBoyntoniscertainlyamostremarkablewoman—Igreatlyadmireherpluckinbeingdeterminedtocomehere—itdoescertainlycomplicatematterstravellingwithher.Herhealthispoor,andIsupposeitnaturallymakesheralittleinconsiderateofotherpeople’sfeelings,butitdoesnotseemtooccurtoherthatherfamilymightlikeoccasionallytogoonexcursionswithouther.She’sjustsousedtothemclusteringroundherthatIsupposeshedoesn’tthink—’
MrCopebrokeoff.Hisnicekindlyfacelookedalittledisturbedanduncomfortable.
‘Youknow,’hesaid,‘IheardapieceofinformationaboutMrsBoyntonthatdisturbedmegreatly.’
Sarahwaslostinherownthoughtsagain—MrCope’svoicejustflowedpleasantlyinherearsliketheagreeablemurmurofaremotestream,butDrGerardsaid:
‘Indeed?Whatwasit?’
‘MyinformantwasaladyIcameacrossinthehotelatTiberias.ItconcernedaservantgirlwhohadbeeninMrsBoynton’semploy.Thegirl,Igather,was—had—’
MrCopepaused,glanceddelicatelyatSarahandloweredhisvoice.‘Shewasgoingtohaveachild.Theoldlady,itseemed,discoveredthis,butwasapparentlyquitekindtothegirl.Thenafewweeksbeforethechildwasbornsheturnedheroutofthehouse.’
DrGerard’seyebrowswentup.
‘Ah,’hesaidreflectively.
‘Myinformantseemedverypositiveofherfacts.Idon’tknowwhetheryouagreewithme,butthatseemstomeaverycruelandheartlessthingtodo.Icannotunderstand—’
DrGerardinterruptedhim.
‘Youshouldtryto.Thatincident,Ihavenodoubt,gaveMrsBoyntonagooddealofquietenjoyment.’
MrCopeturnedashockedfaceonhim.
‘No,sir,’hesaidwithemphasis.‘ThatIcannotbelieve.Suchanideaisquiteinconceivable.’
SoftlyDrGerardquoted:
‘SoIreturnedanddidconsideralltheoppressionsdonebeneaththesun.Andtherewasweepingandwailingfromthosethatwereoppressedandhadnocomfort;forwiththeiroppressorstherewaspower,sothatnoonecametocomfortthem.ThenIdidpraisethedeadwhicharealreadydead,yea,morethanthelivingwhichlingerstillinlife;yea,hethatisnotisbetterthandeadorliving;forhedothnotknowoftheevilthatiswroughtforeveronearth…’
Hebrokeoffandsaid:
‘Mydearsir,Ihavemadealife’sstudyofthestrangethingsthatgooninthehumanmind.Itisnogoodturningone’sfaceonlytothefairersideoflife.Belowthedecenciesandconventionsofeverydaylife,thereliesavastreservoirofstrangethings.Thereissuchathing,forinstance,asdelightincrueltyforitsownsake.Butwhenyouhavefoundthat,thereissomethingdeeperstill.Thedesire,profoundandpitiful,tobeappreciated.Ifthatisthwarted,ifthroughanunpleasingpersonalityahumanbeingisunabletogettheresponseitneeds,itturnstoothermethods—itmustbefelt—itmustcount—andsotoinnumerablestrangeperversions.Thehabitofcruelty,likeanyotherhabit,canbecultivated,cantakeholdofone—’
MrCopecoughed.‘Ithink,DrGerard,thatyouareslightlyexaggerating.Really,theairuphereistoowonderful…’
Heedgedaway.Gerardsmiledalittle.HelookedagainatSarah.Shewasfrowning—herfacewassetinayouthfulsternness.Shelooked,hethought,likeayoungjudgedeliveringsentence…
HeturnedasMissPiercetrippedunsteadilytowardshim.
‘Wearegoingdownnow,’shefluttered.‘Ohdear!IamsureIshallnevermanageit,buttheguidesaysthewaydownisquiteadifferentrouteandmucheasier.Idohopeso,becausefromachildIneverhavebeenabletolookdownfromheights…’
Thedescentwasdownthecourseofawaterfall.Althoughtherewereloosestoneswhichwereapossiblesourceofdangertoankles,itpresentednodizzyvistas.
Thepartyarrivedbackatthecampwearybutingoodspiritsandwithanexcellentappetiteforalatelunch.Itwaspasttwoo’clock.
TheBoyntonfamilywassittingroundthebigtableinthemarquee.Theywerejustfinishingtheirmeal.
LadyWestholmeaddressedagracioussentencetotheminhermostcondescendingmanner.
‘Reallyamostinterestingmorning,’shesaid.‘Petraisawonderfulspot.’
Carol,towhomthewordsseemedaddressed,shotaquicklookathermotherandmurmured:
‘Oh,yes—yes,itis,’andrelapsedintosilence.
LadyWestholme,feelingshehaddoneherduty,addressedherselftoherfood.
Astheyate,thefourdiscussedplansfortheafternoon.
‘IthinkIshallrestmostoftheafternoon,’saidMissPierce.‘Itisimportant,Ithink,nottodotoomuch.’
‘Ishallgoforawalkandexplore,’saidSarah.‘Whataboutyou,DrGerard?’
‘Iwillgowithyou.’
MrsBoyntondroppedaspoonwitharingingclatterandeveryonejumped.
‘Ithink,’saidLadyWestholme,‘thatIshallfollowyourexample,MissPierce.Perhapshalfanhourwithabook,thenIshallliedownandtakeanhour’srestatleast.Afterthat,perhaps,ashortstroll.’
Slowly,withthehelpofLennox,oldMrsBoyntonstruggledtoherfeet.Shestoodforamomentandthenspoke.
‘You’dbetterallgoforawalkthisafternoon,’shesaidwithunexpectedamiability.
Itwas,perhaps,slightlyludicroustoseethestartledfacesofherfamily.
‘But,Mother,whataboutyou?’
‘Idon’tneedanyofyou.Ilikesittingalonewithmybook.Jinnyhadbetternotgo.She’llliedownandhaveasleep.’
‘Mother,I’mnottired.Iwanttogowiththeothers.’
‘Youaretired.You’vegotaheadache!Youmustbecarefulofyourself.Goandliedownandsleep.Iknowwhat’sbestforyou.’
‘I—I—’
Herheadthrownback,thegirlstaredrebelliously.Thenhereyesdropped—faltered…
‘Sillychild,’saidMrsBoynton.‘Gotoyourtent.’
Shestumpedoutofthemarquee–theothersfollowed.
‘Dearme,’saidMissPierce.‘Whatverypeculiarpeople.Suchaveryoddcolour—themother.Quitepurple.Heart,Ishouldimagine.Theheatmustbeverytryingtoher.’
Sarahthought:‘She’slettingthemgofreethisafternoon.SheknowsRaymondwantstobewithme.Why?Isitatrap?’
Afterlunch,whenshehadgonetohertentandhadchangedintoafreshlinendress,thethoughtstillworriedher.SincelastnightherfeelingtowardsRaymondhadswelledintoapassionofprotectivetenderness.This,then,waslove—thisagonyonanother’sbehalf—thisdesiretoavert,atallcosts,painfromthebeloved…Yes,shelovedRaymondBoynton.ItwasStGeorgeandtheDragonreversed.ItwasshewhowastherescuerandRaymondwhowasthechainedvictim.
AndMrsBoyntonwastheDragon.Adragonwhosesuddenamiabilitywas,toSarah’ssuspiciousmind,definitelysinister.
Itwasaboutaquarter-pastthreewhenSarahstrolleddowntothemarquee.
LadyWestholmewassittingonachair.DespitetheheatofthedayshewasstillwearingherserviceableHarristweedskirt.OnherlapwasthereportofaRoyalCommission.DrGerardwastalkingtoMissPierce,whowasstandingbyhertentholdingabookentitledTheLoveQuestanddescribedonitswrapperasathrillingtaleofpassionandmisunderstanding.
‘Idon’tthinkit’swisetoliedowntoosoonafterlunch,’explainedMissPierce.‘One’sdigestion,youknow.Quitecoolandpleasantintheshadowofthemarquee.Ohdear,doyouthinkthatoldladyiswisetositinthesunupthere?’
Theyalllookedattheridgeinfrontofthem.MrsBoyntonwassittingasshehadsatlastnight,amotionlessBuddhainthedoorofhercave.Therewasnootherhumancreatureinsight.Allthecamppersonnelwereasleep.Ashortdistanceaway,followingthelineofthevalley,alittlegroupofpeoplewalkedtogether.
‘Foronce,’saidDrGerard,‘thegoodMammapermitsthemtoenjoythemselveswithouther.Anewdevilmentonherpart,perhaps?’
‘Doyouknow,’saidSarah,‘that’sjustwhatIthought.’
‘Whatsuspiciousmindswehave.Come,letusjointhetruants.’
LeavingMissPiercetoherexcitingreading,theysetoff.Onceroundthebendofthevalley,theycaughtuptheotherpartywhowerewalkingslowly.Foronce,theBoyntonslookedhappyandcarefree.
LennoxandNadine,CarolandRaymond,MrCopewithabroadsmileonhisfaceandthelastarrivals,GerardandSarah,weresoonalllaughingandtalkingtogether.
Asuddenwildhilaritywasborn.Ineveryone’smindwasthefeelingthatthiswasasnatchedpleasure—astolenjoytoenjoytothefull.SarahandRaymonddidnotdrawapart.Instead,SarahwalkedwithCarolandLennox.DrGerardchattedtoRaymondclosebehindthem.NadineandJeffersonCopewalkedalittleapart.
ItwastheFrenchmanwhobrokeuptheparty.Hiswordshadbeencomingspasmodicallyforsometime.Suddenlyhestopped.
‘Athousandexcuses.IfearImustgoback.’
Sarahlookedathim.‘Anythingthematter?’
Henodded.‘Yes,fever.It’sbeencomingoneversincelunch.’
Sarahscrutinizedhim.‘Malaria?’
‘Yes.I’llgobackandtakequinine.Hopethiswon’tbeabadattack.ItisalegacyfromavisittotheCongo.’
‘ShallIcomewithyou?’askedSarah.
‘No,no.Ihavemycaseofdrugswithme.Aconfoundednuisance.Goon,allofyou.’
Hewalkedquicklybackinthedirectionofthecamp.
Sarahlookedundecidedlyafterhimforaminute,thenshemetRaymond’seyes,smiledathim,andtheFrenchmanwasforgotten.
Foratimethesixofthem,Carol,herself,Lennox,MrCope,NadineandRaymond,kepttogether.
Then,somehoworother,sheandRaymondhaddriftedapart.Theywalkedon,climbinguprocks,turningledges,andrestedatlastinashadyspot.
Therewasasilence—thenRaymondsaid:
‘What’syourname?It’sKing,Iknow.Butyourothername.’
‘Sarah.’
‘Sarah.MayIcallyouthat?’
‘Ofcourse.’
‘Sarah,willyoutellmesomethingaboutyourself?’
Leaningbackagainsttherocks,shetalked,tellinghimofherlifeathomeinYorkshire,ofherdogsandtheauntwhohadbroughtherup.
Then,inhisturn,Raymondtoldheralittle,disjointedly,ofhisownlife.
Afterthattherewasalongsilence.Theirhandsstrayedtogether.Theysat,likechildren,handinhand,strangelycontent.
Then,asthesungrewlower,Raymondstirred.
‘I’mgoingbacknow,’hesaid.‘No,notwithyou.Iwanttogobackbymyself.There’ssomethingIhavetosayanddo.Oncethat’sdone,onceI’veprovedtomyselfthatI’mnotacoward—then—then—Ishan’tbeashamedtocometoyouandaskyoutohelpme.Ishallneedhelp,youknow,Ishallprobablyhavetoborrowmoneyfromyou.’
Sarahsmiled.
‘I’mgladyou’rearealist.Youcancountonme.’
‘ButfirstI’vegottodothisalone.’
‘Dowhat?’
Theyoungboyishfacegrewsuddenlystern.RaymondBoyntonsaid:‘I’vegottoprovemycourage.It’snowornever.’
Then,abruptly,heturnedandstrodeaway.
Sarahleantbackagainsttherockandwatchedhisrecedingfigure.Somethinginhiswordshadvaguelyalarmedher.Hehadseemedsointense—soterriblyinearnestandstrungup.Foramomentshewishedshehadgonewithhim…
Butsherebukedherselfsternlyforthatwish.Raymondhaddesiredtostandalone,totesthisnew-foundcourage.Thatwashisright.
Butsheprayedwithallherheartthatthatcouragewouldnotfail…
ThesunwassettingwhenSarahcameoncemoreinsightofthecamp.AsshecamenearerinthedimlightshecouldmakeoutthegrimfigureofMrsBoyntonstillsittinginthemouthofthecave.Sarahshiveredalittleatthesightofthatgrim,motionlessfigure…
Shehurriedpastonthepathbelowandcameintothelightedmarquee.
LadyWestholmewassittingknittinganavy-bluejumper,askeinofwoolhungroundherneck.MissPiercewasembroideringatable-matwithanaemicblueforget-me-nots,andbeinginstructedontheproperreformoftheDivorceLaws.
Theservantscameinandoutpreparingfortheeveningmeal.TheBoyntonswereatthefarendofthemarqueeindeck-chairsreading.Mahmoudappeared,fatanddignified,andwasplaintivelyreproachful.Veryniceafter-tearamblehadbeenarrangedtotakeplace,buteveryoneabsentfromcamp…Theprogrammewasnowentirelythrownout…VeryinstructivevisittoNabataenarchitecture.
Sarahsaidhastilythattheyhadallenjoyedthemselvesverymuch.
Shewentofftohertenttowashforsupper.OnthewaybackshepausedbyDrGerard’stent,callinginalowvoice:‘DrGerard.’
Therewasnoanswer.Sheliftedtheflapandlookedin.Thedoctorwaslyingmotionlessonhisbed.Sarahwithdrewnoiselessly,hopinghewasasleep.
Aservantcametoherandpointedtothemarquee.Evidentlysupperwasready.Shestrolleddownagain.EveryoneelsewasassembledthereroundthetablewiththeexceptionofDrGerardandMrsBoynton.Aservantwasdispatchedtotelltheoldladydinnerwasready.Thentherewasasuddencommotionoutside.TwofrightenedservantsrushedinandspokeexcitedlytothedragomaninArabic.
Mahmoudlookedroundhiminaflusteredmannerandwentoutside.OnanimpulseSarahjoinedhim.
‘What’sthematter?’sheasked.
Mahmoudreplied:‘Theoldlady.Abdulsayssheisill—cannotmove.’
‘I’llcomeandsee.’
Sarahquickenedherstep.FollowingMahmoud,sheclimbedtherockandwalkedalonguntilshecametothesquatfigureinthechair,touchedthepuffyhand,feltforthepulse,bentoverher…
Whenshestraightenedherselfshewaspaler.
Sheretracedherstepsbacktothemarquee.Inthedoorwayshepausedaminutelookingatthegroupatthefarendofthetable.Hervoicewhenshespokesoundedtoherselfbrusqueandunnatural.
‘I’msosorry,’shesaid.Sheforcedherselftoaddresstheheadofthefamily,Lennox.‘Yourmotherisdead,MrBoynton.’
Andcuriously,asthoughfromagreatdistance,shewatchedthefacesoffivepeopletowhomthatannouncementmeantfreedom…
PartIIChapter1
ColonelCarburysmiledacrossthetableathisguestandraisedhisglass.‘Well,here’stocrime!’
HerculePoirot’seyestwinkledinacknowledgementoftheaptnessofthetoast
HehadcometoAmmanwithaletterofintroductiontoColonelCarburyfromColonelRace.
Carburyhadbeeninterestedtoseethisworld-famouspersontowhosegiftshisoldfriendandallyintheIntelligencehadpaidsuchunstintingtribute.
‘Asneatabitofpsychologicaldeductionasyou’lleverfind!’RacehadwrittenofthesolutionoftheShaitanamurder.
‘Wemustshowyouallwecanoftheneighbourhood,’saidCarbury,twistingasomewhatraggedbrindledmoustache.Hewasanuntidystockymanofmediumheightwithasemibaldheadandvague,mild,blueeyes.Hedidnotlookintheleastlikeasoldier.Hedidnotlookevenparticularlyalert.Hewasnotintheleastone’sideaofadisciplinarian.YetinTransjordaniahewasapower.
‘There’sJerash,’hesaid.‘Careaboutthatsortofthing?’
‘Iaminterestedineverything!’
‘Yes,’saidCarbury.‘That’stheonlywaytoreacttolife.’Hepaused.
‘Tellme,d’youeverfindyourownspecialjobhasawayoffollowingyouround?’
‘Pardon?’
‘Well—toputitplainly—doyoucometoplacesexpectingaholidayfromcrime—andfindinsteadbodiescroppingup?’
‘Ithashappened,yes;morethanonce.’
‘H’m,’saidColonelCarburyandlookedparticularlyabstracted.
Thenherousedhimselfwithajerk.‘GotabodynowI’mnotveryhappyabout,’hesaid.
‘Indeed?’
‘Yes.HereinAmman.OldAmericanwoman.WenttoPetrawithherfamily.Tryingjourney,unusualheatfortimeofyear,oldwomansufferedfromhearttrouble,difficultiesofthejourneyabitharderforherthansheimagined,extrastrainonheart—shepoppedoff!’
‘Here—inAmman?’
‘No,downatPetra.Theybroughtthebodyheretoday.’
‘Ah!’
‘Allquitenatural.Perfectlypossible.Likeliestthingintheworldtohappen.Only—’
‘Yes?Only—?’
ColonelCarburyscratchedhisbaldhead
‘I’vegottheidea,’hesaid,‘thatherfamilydidherin!’
‘Aha!Andwhatmakesyouthinkthat?’
ColonelCarburydidnotreplytothatquestiondirectly.
‘Unpleasantoldwoman,itseems.Noloss.Generalfeelingallroundthatherpoppingoffwasagoodthing.Anyway,verydifficulttoproveanythingsolongasthefamilysticktogetherandifnecessarylielikehell.Onedoesn’twantcomplications—orinternationalunpleasantness.Easiestthingtodo—letitgo!Nothingreallytogoupon.Knewadoctorchaponce.Hetoldme—oftenhadsuspicionsincasesofhispatients—hurriedintothenextworldalittleaheadoftime!Hesaid—bestthingtodotokeepquietunlessyoureallyhadsomethingdamnedgoodtogoupon!Otherwisebeastlystink,casenotproved,blackmarkagainstanearnesthard-workingG.P.Somethinginthat.Allthesame—’Hescratchedhisheadagain.‘I’matidyman,’hesaidunexpectedly.
ColonelCarbury’stiewasunderhisleftear,hissockswerewrinkled,hiscoatstainedandtorn.YetHerculePoirotdidnotsmile.Hesaw,clearlyenough,theinnerneatnessofColonelCarbury’smind,hisneatlydocketedfacts,hiscarefullysortedimpressions.
‘Yes.I’matidyman,’saidCarbury.Hewavedavaguehand.‘Don’tlikeamess.WhenIcomeacrossamessIwanttoclearitup.See?’
HerculePoirotnoddedgravely.Hesaw.
‘Therewasnodoctordownthere?’heasked.
‘Yes,two.Oneof’emwasdownwithmalaria,though.Theother’sagirl—justoutofthemedicalstudentstage.Still,sheknowsherjob,Isuppose.Therewasn’tanythingoddaboutthedeath.Oldwomanhadgotadickyheart.She’dbeentakingheartmedicineforsometime.Nothingreallysurprisingaboutherconkingoutsuddenlylikeshedid.’
‘Thenwhat,myfriend,isworryingyou?’askedPoirotgently.
ColonelCarburyturnedaharassedblueeyeonhim.
‘HeardofaFrenchmancalledGerard?TheodoreGerard?’
‘Certainly.Averydistinguishedmaninhisownline.’
‘Loonybins,’confirmedColonelCarbury.‘Passionforacharwomanattheageoffourmakesyouinsistyou’retheArchbishopofCanterburywhenyou’rethirty-eight.Can’tseewhyandneverhave,butthesechapsexplainitveryconvincingly.’
‘DrGerardiscertainlyanauthorityoncertainformsofdeep-seatedneurosis,’agreedPoirot,withasmile.‘Is—er—are—er—hisviewsonthehappeningatPetrabasedonthatlineofargument?’
ColonelCarburyshookhisheadvigorously.
‘No,no.Shouldn’thaveworriedaboutthemiftheyhadbeen!Not,mindyou,thatIdon’tbelieveit’salltrue.It’sjustoneofthosethingsIdon’tunderstand—likeoneofmyBedouinfellowswhocangetoutofacarinthemiddleofaflatdesert,feelthegroundwithhishandandtellyoutowithinamileortwowhereyouare.Itisn’tmagic,butitlookslikeit.No,DrGerard’sstoryisquitestraightforward.Justplainfacts.Ithink,ifyou’reinterested—youareinterested?’
‘Yes,yes.’
‘Goodman.ThenIthinkI’lljustphoneoverandgetGerardalonghere,andyoucanhearhisstoryforyourself.’
WhentheColonelhaddispatchedanorderlyonthisquest,Poirotsaid:
‘Ofwhatdoesthisfamilyconsist?’
‘Name’sBoynton.Therearetwosons,oneof’emmarried.Hiswife’sanice-lookinggirl—thequiet,sensiblekind.Andtherearetwodaughters.Bothof’emquitegood-lookingintotallydifferentstyles.Youngeroneabitnervy—butthatmaybejustshock.’
‘Boynton,’saidPoirot.Hiseyebrowsrose.‘Thatiscurious—verycurious.’
Carburycockedaninquiringeyeathim.ButasPoirotsaidnothingmore,hehimselfwenton:
‘SeemsprettyobviousMotherwasapest!Hadtobewaitedonhandandfootandkeptthewholelotofthemdancingattendance.Andsheheldthepursestrings.Noneofthemhadapennyoftheirown.’
‘Aha!Allveryinteresting.Isitknownhowshelefthermoney?’
‘Ididjustslipthatquestionin—casuallike,youknow.Itgetsdividedequallybetweenthelotofthem.’
Poirotnoddedhishead.Thenheasked:
‘Youareoftheopinionthattheyareallinit?’
‘Don’tknow.That’swherethedifficulty’sgoingtolie.Whetheritwasaconcertedeffort,orwhetheritwasonebrightmember’sidea—Idon’tknow.Maybethewholething’samare’snest!Whatitcomestoisthis:I’dliketohaveyourprofessionalopinion.Ah,herecomesGerard.’
Chapter2
TheFrenchmancameinwithaquickyetunhurriedtread.AsheshookhandswithColonelCarburyheshotakeen,interestedglanceatPoirot.Carburysaid:
‘ThisisM.HerculePoirot.Stayingwithme.BeentalkingtohimaboutthisbusinessdownatPetra.’
‘Ah,yes?’Gerard’squickeyeslookedPoirotupanddown.‘Youareinterested?’
HerculePoirotthrewuphishands.
‘Alas!oneisalwaysincurablyinterestedinone’sownsubject.’
‘True,’saidGerard.
‘Haveadrink?’saidCarbury.
HepouredoutawhiskyandsodaandplaceditbyGerard’selbow.Heheldupthedecanterinquiringly,butPoirotshookhishead.ColonelCarburysetitdownagainanddrewhischairalittlenearer.
‘Well,’hesaid,‘wherearewe?’
‘Igather,’saidPoirottoGerard,‘thatColonelCarburyisnotsatisfied.’
Gerardmadeanexpressivegesture.
‘Andthat,’hesaid,‘ismyfault!AndImaybewrong.Rememberthat,ColonelCarbury,Imaybeentirelywrong.’
Carburygaveagrunt.
‘GivePoirotthefacts,’hesaid.
DrGerardbeganbyabriefrecapitulationoftheeventsprecedingthejourneytoPetra.HegaveashortsketchofthevariousmembersoftheBoyntonfamilyanddescribedtheconditionofemotionalstrainunderwhichtheywerelabouring.
Poirotlistenedwithinterest.
ThenGerardproceededtotheactualeventsoftheirfirstdayatPetra,describinghowhehadreturnedtothecamp.
‘Iwasinforabadboutofmalaria—cerebraltype,’heexplained.‘ForthatIproposedtotreatmyselfbyanintravenousinjectionofquinine.Thatistheusualmethod.’
Poirotnoddedhiscomprehension.
‘Thefeverwasonmebadly.Ifairlystaggeredintomytent.Icouldnotatfirstfindmycaseofdrugs,someonehadmoveditfromwhereIhadoriginallyplacedit.Then,whenIhadfoundthat,Icouldnotfindmyhypodermicsyringe.Ihuntedforitforsometime,thengaveitupandtookalargedoseofquininebythemouthandflungmyselfonmybed.’
Gerardpaused,thenwenton:
‘MrsBoynton’sdeathwasnotdiscovereduntilaftersunset.Owingtothewayinwhichshewassittingandthesupportthechairgavetoherbody,nochangeoccurredinherpositionanditwasnotuntiloneoftheboyswenttosummonhertodinneratsix-thirtythatitwasnoticedthatanythingwaswrong.’
Heexplainedinfulldetailthepositionofthecaveanditsdistanceawayfromthebigmarquee.
‘MissKing,whoisaqualifieddoctor,examinedthebody.Shedidnotdisturbme,knowingthatIhadfever.Therewas,indeed,nothingthatcouldbedone.MrsBoyntonwasdead—andhadbeendeadforsomelittletime.’
Poirotmurmured:‘Howlongexactly?’
Gerardsaidslowly:
‘IdonotthinkthatMissKinggavemuchattentiontothatpoint.Shedidnot,Ipresume,thinkitofanyimportance.’
‘Onecansay,atleast,whenshewaslastdefinitelyknowntobealive?’saidPoirot.
ColonelCarburyclearedhisthroatandreferredtoanofficial-lookingdocument.
‘MrsBoyntonwasspokentobyLadyWestholmeandMissPierceshortlyafter4p.m.LennoxBoyntonspoketohismotheraboutfour-thirty.MrsLennoxBoyntonhadalongconversationwithheraboutfiveminuteslater.CarolBoyntonhadawordwithhermotheratatimesheisunabletostateprecisely—butwhichfromtheevidenceofotherswouldseemtohavebeenabouttenminutespastfive.
‘JeffersonCope,anAmericanfriendofthefamily,returningtothecampwithLadyWestholmeandMissPierce,sawherasleep.Hedidnotspeaktoher.Thatwasabouttwentytosix.RaymondBoynton,theyoungerson,seemstohavebeenthelastpersontoseeheralive.Onhisreturnfromawalkhewentandspoketoheratabouttenminutestosix.Thediscoveryofthebodywasmadeatsix-thirtywhenaservantwenttotellherdinnerwasready.’
‘BetweenthetimethatMrRaymondBoyntonspoketoherandhalf-pastsixdidnoonegonearher?’askedPoirot.
‘Iunderstandnot.’
‘Butsomeonemighthavedoneso?’Poirotpersisted.
‘Idon’tthinkso.Fromcloseonsixonwardsservantsweremovingaboutthecamp,peopleweregoingtoandfromtheirtents.Noonecanbefoundwhosawanyoneapproachingtheoldlady.’
‘ThenRaymondBoyntonwasdefinitelythelastpersontoseehismotheralive?’saidPoirot.
DrGerardandColonelCarburyinterchangedaquickglance.ColonelCarburydrummedonthetablewithhisfingers.
‘Thisiswherewebegintogetintodeepwaters,’hesaid.‘Goon,Gerard.Thisisyourpigeon.’
‘AsImentionedjustnow,SarahKing,whensheexaminedMrsBoynton,sawnoreasonfordeterminingtheexacttimeofdeath.ShemerelysaidthatMrsBoyntonhadbeendead“somelittletime”,butwhen,onthefollowingdayforreasonsofmyown,IendeavouredtonarrowthingsdownandhappenedtomentionthatMrsBoyntonwaslastseenalivebyhersonRaymondatalittlebeforesix,MissKing,tomygreatsurprise,saidpoint-blankthatthatwasimpossible—thatatthattimeMrsBoyntonmustalreadyhavebeendead.’
Poirot’seyebrowsrose.‘Odd.Extremelyodd.AndwhatdoesM.RaymondBoyntonsaytothat?’
ColonelCarburysaidabruptly:‘Heswearsthathismotherwasalive.Hewentuptoherandsaid,“I’mback.Hopeyouhavehadaniceafternoon?”Somethingofthatkind.Hesaysshejustgrunted,“Quiteallright,”andhewentontohistent.’
Poirotfrownedperplexedly.
‘Curious,’hesaid.‘Extremelycurious.Tellme,wasitgrowingduskbythen?’
‘Thesunwasjustsetting.’
‘Curious,’saidPoirotagain.‘Andyou,DrGerard,whendidyouseethebody?’
‘Notuntilthefollowingday.At9a.m.tobeprecise.’
‘Andyourestimateofthetimedeathhadoccurred?’
TheFrenchmanshruggedhisshoulders.
‘Itisdifficulttobeexactafterthatlengthoftime.Theremustnecessarilybeamarginofseveralhours.WereIgivingevidenceonoathIcouldonlysaythatshehadbeendeadcertainlytwelvehoursandnotlongerthaneighteen.Yousee,thatdoesnothelpatall.’
‘Goon,Gerard,’saidColonelCarbury.‘Givehimtherestofit.’
‘Ongettingupinthemorning,’saidDrGerard,‘Ifoundmyhypodermicsyringe—itwasbehindacaseofbottlesonmydressing-table.’
Heleanedforward.
‘Youmaysay,ifyoulike,thatIhadoverlookeditthedaybefore.Iwasinamiserablestateoffeverandwretchedness,shakingfromheadtofoot,andhowoftendoesonelookforathingthatisthereallthetimeandyetbeunabletofindit!IcanonlysaythatIamquitepositivethesyringewasnottherethen.’
‘There’ssomethingmorestill,’saidCarbury.
‘Yes,twofactsforwhattheyareworthandtheymeanagreatdeal.Therewasamarkonthedeadwoman’swrist—amarksuchaswouldbecausedbytheinsertionofahypodermicsyringe.Herdaughter,Imaysay,explainsitashavingbeencausedbytheprickofapin—’
Poirotstirred.‘Whichdaughter?’
‘HerdaughterCarol.’
‘Yes,continue,Iprayyou.’
‘Andthereisthelastfact.Happeningtoexaminemylittlecaseofdrugs,Inoticedthatmystockofdigitoxinwasverymuchdiminished.’
‘Digitoxin,’saidPoirot,‘isaheartpoison,isitnot?’
‘Yes.ItisobtainedfromDigitalispurpurea—thecommonfoxglove.Therearefouractiveprinciples—digitalin—digitonin—digitalein—anddigitoxin.Ofthesedigitoxinisconsideredthemostactivepoisonousconstituentofdigitalisleaves.AccordingtoKopp’sexperimentsitisfromsixtotentimesstrongerthandigitalinordigitalein.ItisofficialinFrance—butnotintheBritishPharmacopoeia.’
‘Andalargedoseofdigitoxin?’
DrGerardsaidgravely:‘Alargedoseofdigitoxinthrownsuddenlyonthecirculationbyintravenousinjectionwouldcausesuddendeathbyquickpalsyoftheheart.Ithasbeenestimatedthatfourmilligramsmightprovefataltoanadultman.’
‘AndMrsBoyntonalreadysufferedwithhearttrouble?’
‘Yes,asamatteroffactshewasactuallytakingamedicinecontainingdigitalin.’
‘That,’saidPoirot,‘isextremelyinteresting.’
‘D’youmean,’askedColonelCarbury,‘thatherdeathmighthavebeenattributedtoanoverdoseofherownmedicine?’
‘That—yes.ButImeantmorethanthat.’
‘Insomesenses,’saidDrGerard,‘digitalinmaybeconsideredacumulativedrug.Moreover,asregardspost-mortemappearance,theactiveprinciplesofthedigitalismaydestroylifeandleavenoappreciablesign.’
Poirotnoddedslowappreciation.
‘Yes,thatisclever—veryclever.Almostimpossibletoprovesatisfactorilytoajury.Ah,butletmetellyou,gentlemen,ifthisisamurder,itisaveryclevermurder!Thehypodermicreplaced,thepoisonemployed,apoisonwhichthevictimwasalreadytaking—thepossibilitiesofamistake—oraccident—areoverwhelming.Oh,yes,therearebrainshere.Thereisthought—care—genius.’
Foramomenthesatinsilence,thenheraisedhishead.‘Andyet,onethingpuzzlesme.’
‘Whatisthat?’
‘Thetheftofthehypodermicsyringe.’
‘Itwastaken,’saidDrGerardquickly.
‘Taken—andreturned?’
‘Yes.’
‘Odd,’saidPoirot.‘Veryodd.Otherwiseeverythingfitssowell…’
ColonelCarburylookedathimcuriously
‘Well?’hesaid.‘What’syourexpertopinion?Wasitmurder—orwasn’tit?’
Poirotheldupahand.
‘Onemoment.Wehavenotyetarrivedatthatpoint.Thereisstillsomeevidencetoconsider.’
‘Whatevidence?You’vehaditall.’
‘Ah!butthisisevidencethatI,HerculePoirot,bringtoyou.’
Henoddedhisheadandsmiledalittleattheirtwoastonishedfaces.
‘Yes,itisdroll,that!ThatI,towhomyoutellthestory,shouldinreturnpresentyouwithapieceofevidenceaboutwhichyoudonotknow.Itwaslikethis.IntheSolomonHotel,onenight,Igotothewindowtomakesureitisclosed—’
‘Closed—oropen?’askedCarbury.
‘Closed,’saidPoirotfirmly.‘Itwasopen,sonaturallyIgotocloseit.ButbeforeIdoso,asmyhandisonthelatch,Ihearavoicespeaking—anagreeablevoice,lowandclearwithatremorinitofnervousexcitement.IsaytomyselfitisavoiceIwillknowagain.Andwhatdoesitsay,thisvoice?Itsaysthesewords,“Youdosee,don’tyou,thatshe’sgottobekilled?”’
‘Atthemoment,naturellement,Idonottakethosewordsasreferringtoakillingoffleshandblood.Ithinkitisanauthororperhapsaplaywrightwhospeaks.Butnow—Iamnotsosure.ThatistosayIamsureitwasnothingofthekind.’
Againhepausedbeforesaying:‘Messieurs,Iwilltellyouthis—tothebestofmyknowledgeandbeliefthosewordswerespokenbyayoungmanwhomIsawlaterintheloungeofthehotelandwhowas,sotheytoldmeoninquiring,ayoungmanofthenameofRaymondBoynton.’
Chapter3
‘RaymondBoyntonsaidthat!’
TheexclamationbrokefromtheFrenchman.
‘Youthinkitunlikely—psychologicallyspeaking?’Poirotinquiredplacidly.
Gerardshookhishead.
‘No,Ishouldnotsaythat.Iwassurprised,yes.Ifyoufollowme,IwassurprisedjustbecauseRaymondBoyntonwassoeminentlyfittedtobeasuspect.’
ColonelCarburysighed.‘Thesepsychologicalfellers!’thesighseemedtosay.
‘Questionis,’hemurmured,‘whatarewegoingtodoaboutit?’
Gerardshruggedhisshoulders.
‘Idonotseewhatyoucando,’heconfessed.‘Theevidenceisboundtobeinconclusive.Youmayknowthatmurderhasbeendonebutitwillbedifficulttoproveit.’
‘Isee,’saidColonelCarbury.‘Wesuspectthatmurder’sbeendoneandwejustsitbackandtwiddleourfingers!Don’tlikeit!’Headded,asifinextenuation,hisformeroddplea,‘I’matidyman.’
‘Iknow.Iknow.’Poirotnoddedhisheadsympathetically.‘Youwouldliketoclearthisup.Youwouldliketoknowdefinitely,exactlywhatoccurredandhowitoccurred.Andyou,DrGerard?Youhavesaidthatthereisnothingtobedone—thattheevidenceisboundtobeinconclusive?Thatisprobablytrue.Butareyousatisfiedthatthemattershouldrestso?’
‘Shewasabadlife,’saidGerardslowly.‘Inanycase,shemighthavediedveryshortly—aweek—amonth—ayear.’
‘Soyouaresatisfied?’persistedPoirot.
Gerardwenton:
‘Thereisnodoubtthatherdeathwas—howshallweputit?—beneficialtothecommunity.Ithasbroughtfreedomtoherfamily.Theywillhavescopetodevelop—theyareall,Ithink,peopleofgoodcharacterandintelligence.Theywillbe—now—usefulmembersofsociety!ThedeathofMrsBoynton,asIseeit,hasresultedinnothingbutgood.’
Poirotrepeatedforthethirdtime:‘Soyouaresatisfied?’
‘No.’Gerardpoundedafistsuddenlyonthetable.‘Iamnot“satisfied”,asyouputit!Itismyinstincttopreservelife—nottohastendeath.Therefore,thoughmyconsciousmindmayrepeatthatthiswoman’sdeathwasagoodthing,myunconsciousmindrebelsagainstit!Itisnotwell,gentlemen,thatahumanbeingshoulddiebeforehertimehascome.’
Poirotsmiled.Heleanedbackcontentedwiththeanswerhehadprobedforsopatiently.
ColonelCarburysaidunemotionally:‘Hedon’tlikemurder!Quiteright!NomoredoI.’
Heroseandpouredhimselfoutastiffwhiskyandsoda.Hisguests’glasseswerestillfull.
‘Andnow,’hesaid,returningtothesubject,‘let’sgetdowntobrasstacks.Isthereanythingtobedoneaboutit?Wedon’tlikeit—no!Butwemayhavetolumpit!Nogoodmakingafussifyoucan’tdeliverthegoods.’
Gerardleanedforward.‘Whatisyourprofessionalopinion,M.Poirot?Youaretheexpert.’
Poirottookalittletimetospeak.Methodicallyhearrangedanash-trayortwoandmadealittleheapofusedmatches.Thenhesaid:
‘Youdesiretoknow,doyounot,ColonelCarbury,whokilledMrsBoynton?(Thatisifshewaskilledanddidnotdieanaturaldeath.)Exactlyhowandwhenshewaskilled—andinfactthewholetruthofthematter?’
‘Ishouldliketoknowthat,yes.’Carburyspokeunemotionally.
HerculePoirotsaidslowly:‘Iseenoreasonwhyyoushouldnotknowit!’
DrGerardlookedincredulous.ColonelCarburylookedmildlyinterested.
‘Oh,’hesaid.‘Soyoudon’t,don’tyou?That’sinterestin’.Howd’youproposetosetaboutit?’
‘Bymethodicalsiftingoftheevidence,byaprocessofreasoning.’
‘Suitsme,’saidColonelCarbury.
‘Andbyastudyofthepsychologicalpossibilities.’
‘SuitsDrGerard,Iexpect,’saidCarbury.‘Andafterthat—afteryou’vesiftedtheevidenceanddonesomereasoningandpaddledinpsychology—heypresto!—youthinkyoucanproducetherabbitoutofthehat?’
‘IshouldbeextremelysurprisedifIcouldnotdoso,’saidPoirotcalmly.
ColonelCarburystaredathimovertherimofhisglass.Justforamomentthevagueeyeswerenolongervague—theymeasured—andappraised.
Heputdownhisglasswithagrunt.
‘Whatdoyousaytothat,DrGerard?’
‘IadmitthatIamskepticalofsuccess…Yes,IknowthatM.Poirothasgreatpowers.’
‘Iamgifted—yes,’saidthelittleman.Hesmiledmodestly.
ColonelCarburyturnedawayhisheadandcoughed.
Poirotsaid:‘Thefirstthingtodecideiswhetherthisisacompositemurder—plannedandcarriedoutbytheBoyntonfamilyasawhole,orwhetheritistheworkofoneofthemonly.Ifthelatter,whichisthemostlikelymemberofthefamilytohaveattemptedit.’
DrGerardsaid:‘Thereisyourownevidence.Onemust,Ithink,considerfirstRaymondBoynton.’
‘Iagree,’saidPoirot.‘ThewordsIoverheardandthediscrepancybetweenhisevidenceandthatoftheyoungwomandoctorputshimdefinitelyintheforefrontofthesuspects.’
‘HewasthelastpersontoseeMrsBoyntonalive.Thatishisownstory.SarahKingcontradictsthat.Tellme,DrGerard,isthere—eh?—youknowwhatImean—alittletendresse,shallwesay—there?’
TheFrenchmannodded.‘Emphaticallyso.’
‘Aha!Isshe,thisyounglady,abrunettewithhairthatgoesbackfromherforehead—so—andbighazeleyesandamannerverydecided?’
DrGerardlookedrathersurprised.
‘Yes,thatdescribesherverywell.’
‘IthinkIhaveseenher—intheSolomonHotel.ShespoketothisRaymondBoyntonandafterwardsheremainedplantélà—inadream—blockingtheexitfromthelift.ThreetimesIhadtosay“Pardon”beforeheheardmeandmoved.’
Heremainedinthoughtforsomemoments.Thenhesaid:‘So,tobeginwith,wewillacceptthemedicalevidenceofMissSarahKingwithcertainmentalreservations.Sheisaninterestedparty.’Hepaused—thenwenton:‘Tellme,DrGerard,doyouthinkRaymondBoyntonisofthetemperamentthatcouldcommitmurdereasily?’
Gerardsaidslowly:‘Youmeandeliberateplannedmurder?Yes,Ithinkitispossible—butonlyunderconditionsofintenseemotionalstrain.’
‘Thoseconditionswerepresent?’
‘Definitely.Thisjourneyabroadundoubtedlyheightenedthenervousandmentalstrainunderwhichallthesepeoplewereliving.Thecontrastbetweentheirownlivesandthoseofotherpeoplewasmoreapparenttothem.AndinRaymondBoynton’scase—’
‘Yes?’
‘TherewastheadditionalcomplicationofbeingstronglyattractedtoSarahKing.’
‘Thatwouldgivehimanadditionalmotive?Andanadditionalstimulus?’
‘Thatisso.’
ColonelCarburycoughed.
‘Liketobuttinamoment.Thatsentenceofhisyouoverheard,“Youdosee,don’tyou,thatshe’sgottobekilled?”Musthavebeenspokentosomeone.’
‘Agoodpoint,’saidPoirot.‘Ihadnotforgottenit.Yes,towhomwasRaymondBoyntonspeaking?Undoubtedlytoamemberofhisfamily.Butwhichmember?Canyoutellussomething,Doctor,ofthementalconditionoftheothermembersofthefamily?’
Gerardrepliedpromptly:
‘CarolBoyntonwas,Ishouldsay,inverymuchthesamestateasRaymond—astateofrebellionaccompaniedbyaseverenervousexcitement,butuncomplicatedinhercasebytheintroductionofasexfactor.LennoxBoyntonhadpassedthestageofrevolt.Hewassunkinapathy.Hewasfindingit,Ithink,difficulttoconcentrate.Hismethodofreactiontohissurroundingswastoretirefurtherandfurtherwithinhimself.Hewasdefinitelyanintrovert.’
‘Andhiswife?’
‘Hiswife,thoughtiredandunhappy,showednosignsofmentalconflict.Shewas,Ibelieve,hesitatingonthebrinkofadecision.’
‘Suchadecisionbeing?’
‘Whetherornottoleaveherhusband.’
HerepeatedtheconversationhehadheldwithJeffersonCope.Poirotnoddedincomprehension.
‘Andwhatoftheyoungergirl—Ginevrahernameis,isitnot?’
TheFrenchman’sfacewasgrave.Hesaid:
‘Ishouldsaythatmentallysheisinanextremelydangerouscondition.Shehasalreadybeguntodisplaysymptomsofschizophrenia.Unabletobearthesuppressionofherlife,sheisescapingintoarealmoffantasy.Shehasadvanceddelusionsofpersecution—thatistosay,sheclaimstobearoyalpersonage—indanger—enemiessurroundingher—alltheusualthings!’
‘Andthat—isdangerous?’
‘Verydangerous.Itisthebeginningofwhatisoftenhomicidalmania.Thesuffererkills—notforthelustofkilling—butinself-defence.Heorshekillsinordernottobekilledthemselves.Fromtheirpointofviewitiseminentlyrational.’
‘SoyouthinkthatGinevraBoyntonmighthavekilledhermother?’
‘Yes.ButIdoubtifshewouldhavehadtheknowledgeortheconstructivenesstodoitthewayitwasdone.Thecunningofthatclassofmaniaisusuallyverysimpleandobvious.AndIamalmostcertainshewouldhavechosenamorespectacularmethod.’
‘Butsheisapossibility?’Poirotinsisted.
‘Yes,’admittedGerard.
‘Andafterwards—whenthedeedwasdone?Doyouthinktherestofthefamilyknewwhohaddoneit?’
‘Theyknow!’saidColonelCarburyunexpectedly.‘IfeverIcameacrossabunchofpeoplewhohadsomethingtohide—thesearethey!They’reputtingsomethingoverallright.’
‘Wewillmakethemtelluswhatitis,’saidPoirot.
‘Thirddegree?’saidColonelCarbury.
‘No.’Poirotshookhishead.‘Justordinaryconversation.Onthewhole,youknow,peopletellyouthetruth.Becauseitiseasier!Becauseitislessstrainontheinventivefaculties!Youcantellonelie—ortwolies—orthreelies—orevenfourlies—butyoucannotlieallthetime.Andso—thetruthbecomesplain.’
‘Somethinginthat,’agreedCarbury.
Thenhesaidbluntly:‘You’lltalktothem,yousay?Thatmeansyou’rewillingtotakethison.’
Poirotbowedhishead.
‘Letusbeveryclearaboutthis,’hesaid.‘Whatyoudemand,andwhatIundertaketosupply,isthetruth.Butmarkthis,evenwhenwehavegotthetruth,theremaybenoproof.Thatistosay,noproofthatwouldbeacceptedinacourtoflaw.Youcomprehend?’
‘Quite,’saidCarbury.‘Yousatisfymeofwhatreallyhappened.Thenit’suptometodecidewhetheractionispossibleornot—havingregardtotheinternationalaspects.Anyway,itwillbeclearedup—nomess.Don’tlikemess.’
Poirotsmiled.
‘Onethingmore,’saidCarbury.‘Ican’tgiveyoumuchtime.Can’tdetainthesepeoplehereindefinitely.’
Poirotsaidquietly:
‘Youcandetainthemtwenty-fourhours.Youshallhavethetruthbytomorrownight.’
ColonelCarburystaredhardathim.
‘Prettyconfident,aren’tyou?’heasked.
‘Iknowmyownability,’murmuredPoirot.
Rendereduncomfortablebythisun-Britishattitude,ColonelCarburylookedawayandfingeredhisuntidymoustaches.
‘Well,’hemumbled,‘it’suptoyou.’
‘Andifyousucceed,myfriend,’saidDrGerard,‘youareindeedamarvel!’
Chapter4
SarahKinglookedlongandsearchinglyatHerculePoirot.Shenotedtheegg-shapedhead,thegiganticmoustaches,thedandifiedappearanceandthesuspiciousblacknessofhishair.Alookofdoubtcreptintohereyes.‘Well,mademoiselle,areyousatisfied?’
Sarahflushedasshemettheamusedironicalglanceofhiseyes.
‘Ibegyourpardon,’shesaidawkwardly.
‘Dutout!TouseanexpressionIhaverecentlylearnt,yougivemetheonce-over,isitnotso?’
Sarahsmiledalittle.‘Well,atanyrate,youcandothesametome,’shesaid.
‘Assuredly.Ihavenotneglectedtodoso.’
Sheglancedathimsharply.Somethinginhistone.ButPoirotwastwirlinghismoustachescomplacently,andSarahthought(forthesecondtime),‘Theman’samountebank!’
Herself-confidencerestored,shesatupalittlestraighterandsaidinquiringly:‘Idon’tthinkIquiteunderstandtheobjectofthisinterview?’
‘ThegoodDrGerarddidnotexplain?’
Sarahsaidfrowning:‘Idon’tunderstandDrGerard.Heseemstothink—’
‘SomethingisrotteninthestateofDenmark,’quotedPoirot.‘Yousee,IknowyourShakespeare.’
SarahwavedasideShakespeare.
‘Whatexactlyisallthisfussabout?’shedemanded.
‘Ehbien,onewants,doesonenot,togetatthetruthofthisaffair?’
‘AreyoutalkingaboutMrsBoynton’sdeath?’
‘Yes.’
‘Isn’titratherafussaboutnothing?You,ofcourse,areaspecialist,M.Poirot.Itisnaturalforyou—’
Poirotfinishedthesentenceforher.
‘ItisnaturalformetosuspectcrimewheneverIcanpossiblyfindanexcusefordoingso?’
‘Well—yes—perhaps.’
‘YouhavenodoubtyourselfastoMrsBoynton’sdeath?’
Sarahshruggedhershoulders.
‘Really,M.Poirot,ifyouhadbeentoPetrayouwouldrealizethatthejourneytherewasasomewhatstrenuousbusinessforanoldwomanwhosecardiacconditionwasunsatisfactory.’
‘Itseemsaperfectlystraightforwardbusinesstoyou?’
‘Certainly.Ican’tunderstandDrGerard’sattitude.Hedidn’tevenknowanythingaboutit.Hewasdownwithfever.I’dbowtohissuperiormedicalknowledgenaturally—inthiscasehehadnothingwhatevertogoon.IsupposetheycanhaveaP.M.inJerusalemiftheylike—ifthey’renotsatisfiedwithmyverdict.’
Poirotwassilentforamoment,thenhesaid:
‘Thereisafact,MissKing,thatyoudonotyetknow.DrGerardhasnottoldyouofit.’
‘Whatfact?’demandedSarah.
‘Asupplyofadrug—digitoxin—ismissingfromDrGerard’stravellingmedicinecase.’
‘Oh!’QuicklySarahtookinthisnewaspectofthecase.Equallyquicklyshepouncedontheonedoubtfulpoint.
‘IsDrGerardquitesureofthat?’
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
‘Adoctor,asyoushouldknow,mademoiselle,isusuallyfairlycarefulinmakinghisstatements.’
‘Oh,ofcourse.Thatgoeswithoutsaying.ButDrGerardhadmalariaatthetime.’
‘Thatisso,ofcourse.’
‘Hasheanyideawhenitcouldhavebeentaken?’
‘HehadoccasiontogotohiscaseonthenightofhisarrivalinPetra.Hewantedsomephenacetin—ashisheadwasachingbadly.Whenhereplacedthephenacetinthefollowingmorningandshutupthecaseheisalmostcertainthatallthedrugswereintact.’
‘Almost—’saidSarah.
Poirotshrugged.
‘Yes,thereisadoubt!Thereisthedoubtthatanyman,whoishonest,wouldbelikelytofeel.’
Sarahnodded.‘Yes,Iknow.Onealwaysdistruststhosepeoplewhoareoversure.Butallthesame,M.Poirot,theevidenceisveryslight.Itseemstome—’Shepaused.Poirotfinishedthesentenceforher.
‘Itseemstoyouthataninquiryonmypartisill-advised!’
Sarahlookedhimsquarelyintheface.
‘Frankly,itdoes.Areyousure,M.Poirot,thatthisisnotacaseofRomanHoliday?’
Poirotsmiled.‘Theprivatelivesofafamilyupsetanddisturbed—sothatHerculePoirotcanplayalittlegameofdetectiontoamusehimself?’
‘Ididn’tmeantobeoffensive—butisn’titalittlelikethat?’
‘You,then,areonthesideofthefamilleBoynton,mademoiselle?’
‘IthinkIam.They’vesufferedagooddeal.They—theyoughtn’ttohavetostandanymore.’
‘AndlaMaman,shewasunpleasant,tyrannical,disagreeableanddecidedlybetterdeadthanalive?Thatalso—hein?’
‘Whenyouputitlikethat—’Sarahpaused,flushed,wenton:‘Oneshouldn’t,Iagree,takethatintoconsideration.’
‘Butallthesame—onedoes!Thatis,youdo,mademoiselle!I—donot!Tomeitisallthesame.ThevictimmaybeoneofthegoodGod’ssaints—or,onthecontrary—amonsterofinfamy.Itmovesmenot.Thefactisthesame.Alife—taken!Isayitalways—Idonotapproveofmurder.’
‘Murder?’Sarahdrewinherbreathsharply.‘Butwhatevidenceofthatisthere?Theflimsiestimaginable!DrGerardhimselfcannotbesure!’
Poirotsaidquietly:‘Butthereisotherevidence,mademoiselle.’
‘Whatevidence?’Hervoicewassharp.
‘Themarkofahypodermicpunctureuponthedeadwoman’swrist.Andsomethingmorestill—somewordsthatIoverheardspokeninJerusalemonaclear,stillnightwhenIwenttoclosemybedroomwindow.ShallItellyouwhatthosewordswere,MissKing?Theywerethese.IheardMrRaymondBoyntonsay:“Youdosee,don’tyou,thatshe’sgottobekilled?”’
HesawthecolourdrainslowlyfromSarah’sface.
Shesaid:‘Youheardthat?’
‘Yes.’
Thegirlstaredstraightaheadofher.
Shesaidatlast:‘Itwouldbeyouwhoheardit!’
Heacquiesced.
‘Yes,itwouldbeme.Thesethingshappen.YouseenowwhyIthinkthereshouldbeaninvestigation?’
Sarahsaidquietly:‘Ithinkyouarequiteright.’
‘Ah!Andyouwillhelpme?’
‘Certainly.’
Hertonewasmatter-of-fact—unemotional.Hereyesmethiscoolly.
Poirotbowed.‘Thankyou,mademoiselle.NowIwillaskyoutotellmeinyourownwordsexactlywhatyoucanrememberofthatparticularday.’
Sarahconsideredforamoment.
‘Letmesee.Iwentonanexpeditioninthemorning.NoneoftheBoyntonswerewithus.Isawthematlunch.Theywerefinishingaswecamein.MrsBoyntonseemedinanunusuallygoodtemper.’
‘Shewasnotusuallyamiable,Iunderstand.’
‘Veryfarfromit,’saidSarahwithaslightgrimace.
ShethendescribedhowMrsBoyntonhadreleasedherfamilyfromattendanceonher.
‘Thattoo,wasunusual?’
‘Yes.Sheusuallykeptthemaroundher.’
‘Doyouthink,perhaps,thatshesuddenlyfeltremorseful—thatshehadwhatiscalled—unbonmoment?’
‘No,Idon’t,’saidSarahbluntly.
‘Whatdidyouthink,then?’
‘Iwaspuzzled.Isuspecteditwassomethingofthecat-and-mouseorder.’
‘Ifyouwouldelaborate,mademoiselle?’
‘Acatenjoyslettingamouseaway—andthencatchingitagain.MrsBoyntonhadthatkindofmentality.Ithoughtshewasuptosomenewdevilryorother.’
‘Whathappenednext,mademoiselle?’
‘TheBoyntonsstartedoff—’
‘Allofthem?’
‘No,theyoungest,Ginevra,wasleftbehind.Shewastoldtogoandrest.’
‘Didshewishtodoso?’
‘No.Butthatdidn’tmatter.Shedidwhatshewastold.Theothersstartedoff.DrGerardandIjoinedthem—’
‘Whenwasthis?’
‘Abouthalf-pastthree.’
‘WherewasMrsBoyntonthen?’
‘Nadine—youngMrsBoynton—hadsettledherinherchairoutsidehercave.’
‘Proceed.’
‘Whenwegotroundthebend,DrGerardandIcaughtuptheothers.Weallwalkedtogether.Then,afterawhile,DrGerardturnedback.Hehadbeenlookingratherqueerforsometime.Icouldseehehadfever.Iwantedtogobackwithhim,buthewouldn’thearofit.’
‘Whattimewasthis?’
‘Oh!aboutfour,Isuppose.’
‘Andtherest?’
‘Wewenton.’
‘Wereyoualltogether?’
‘Atfirst.Thenwesplitup.’Sarahhurriedonasthoughforeseeingthenextquestion.‘NadineBoyntonandMrCopewentonewayandCarol,Lennox,RaymondandIwentanother.’
‘Andyoucontinuedlikethat?’
‘Well—no.RaymondBoyntonandIseparatedfromtheothers.Wesatdownonaslabofrockandadmiredthewildnessofthescenery.ThenhewentoffandIstayedwhereIwasforsometimelonger.Itwasabouthalf-pastfivewhenIlookedatmywatchandrealizedIhadbettergetback.Ireachedthecampatsixo’clock.Itwasjustaboutsunset.’
‘YoupassedMrsBoyntonontheway?’
‘Inoticedshewasstillinherchairupontheridge.’
‘Thatdidnotstrikeyouasodd—thatshehadnotmoved?’
‘No,becauseIhadseenhersittingtherethenightbeforewhenwearrived.’
‘Isee.Continuez.’
‘Iwentintothemarquee.Theotherswereallthere—exceptDrGerard.Iwashedandthencameback.TheybroughtindinnerandoneoftheservantswenttotellMrsBoynton.Hecamerunningbacktosayshewasill.Ihurriedout.Shewassittinginherchairjustasshehadbeen,butassoonasItouchedherIrealizedshewasdead.’
‘Youhadnodoubtatallastoherdeathbeingnatural?’
‘Nonewhatever.Ihadheardthatshesufferedfromhearttrouble,thoughnospecifieddiseasehadbeenmentioned.’
‘Yousimplythoughtshehaddiedsittingthereinherchair?’
‘Yes.’
‘Withoutcallingoutforassistance?’
‘Yes.Ithappensthatwaysometimes.Shemightevenhavediedinhersleep.Shewasquitelikelytohavedozedoff.Inanycase,allthecampwasasleepmostoftheafternoon.Noonewouldhaveheardherunlessshehadcalledveryloud.’
‘Didyouformanopinionastohowlongshehadbeendead?’
‘Well,Ididn’treallythinkverymuchaboutit.Shehadclearlybeendeadsometime.’
‘Whatdoyoucallsometime?’askedPoirot.
‘Well—overanhour.Itmighthavebeenmuchlonger.Therefractionoftherockwouldkeepherbodyfromcoolingquickly.’
‘Overanhour?Areyouaware,MademoiselleKing,thatRaymondBoyntonspoketoheronlyalittleoverhalfanhourearlier,andthatshewasthenaliveandwell?’
Nowhereyesnolongermethis.Butsheshookherhead.‘Hemusthavemadeamistake.Itmusthavebeenearlierthanthat.’
‘No,mademoiselle,itwasnot.’
Shelookedathimpoint-blank.Henoticedagainthefirmsetofhermouth.
‘Well,’saidSarah,‘I’myoungandIhaven’tgotmuchexperienceofdeadbodies—butIknowenoughtobequitesureofonething.MrsBoyntonhadbeendeadatleastanhourwhenIexaminedherbody!’
‘That,’saidHerculePoirotunexpectedly,‘isyourstoryandyouaregoingtosticktoit!ThencanyouexplainwhyMrBoyntonshouldsayhismotherwasalivewhenshewas,inpointoffact,dead?’
‘I’venoidea,’saidSarah.‘They’reprobablyrathervagueabouttimes,allofthem!They’reaverynervyfamily.’
‘Onhowmanyoccasions,mademoiselle,haveyouspokenwiththem?’
Sarahwassilentamoment,frowningalittle.
‘Icantellyouexactly,’shesaid.‘ItalkedtoRaymondBoyntoninthewagons-litscorridorcomingtoJerusalem.IhadtwoconversationswithCarolBoynton—oneattheMosqueofOmarandonelatethateveninginmybedroom.IhadaconversationwithMrsLennoxBoyntonthefollowingmorning.That’sall—uptotheafternoonofMrsBoynton’sdeath,whenweallwentwalkingtogether.’
‘YoudidnothaveanyconversationwithMrsBoyntonherself?’
Sarahflusheduncomfortably.
‘Yes.IexchangedafewwordswithheronthedaysheleftJerusalem.’Shepausedandthenblurtedout:‘Asamatteroffact,Imadeafoolofmyself.’
‘Ah?’
Theinterrogationwassopatentthat,stifflyandunwillingly,Sarahgaveanaccountoftheconversation.
Poirotseemedinterestedandcross-examinedherclosely.
‘ThementalityofMrsBoynton—itisveryimportantinthiscase,’hesaid.‘Andyouareanoutsider—anunbiasedobserver.Thatiswhyyouraccountofherisverysignificant.’
Sarahdidnotreply.Shestillfelthotanduncomfortablewhenshethoughtofthatinterview.
‘Thankyou,mademoiselle,’saidPoirot.‘Iwillnowconversewiththeotherwitnesses.’
Sarahrose.‘Excuseme,M.Poirot,butifImightmakeasuggestion—’
‘Certainly.Certainly.’
‘Whynotpostponeallthisuntilanautopsycanbemadeandyoudiscoverwhetherornotyoursuspicionsarejustified?Ithinkallthisisratherlikeputtingthecartbeforethehorse.’
Poirotwavedagrandiloquenthand.‘ThisisthemethodofHerculePoirot,’heannounced.
Pressingherlipstogether,Sarahlefttheroom.
Chapter5
LadyWestholmeenteredtheroomwiththeassuranceofatransatlanticlinercomingintodock.
MissAmabelPierce,anindeterminatecraft,followedintheliner’swakeandsatdowninaninferiormakeofchairslightlyinthebackground.
‘Certainly,M.Poirot,’boomedLadyWestholme.‘Ishallbedelightedtoassistyoubyanymeansinmypower.Ihavealwaysconsideredthatinmattersofthiskindonehasapublicdutytoperform—’
WhenLadyWestholme’spublicdutyhadheldthestageforsomeminutes,Poirotwasadroitenoughtogetinaquestion
‘Ihaveaperfectrecollectionoftheafternooninquestion,’repliedLadyWestholme.‘MissPierceandIwilldoallwecantoassistyou.’
‘Oh,yes,’sighedMissPierce,almostecstatically.‘Sotragic,wasitnot?Dead—justlikethat—inthetwinkleofaneye!’
‘Ifyouwilltellmeexactlywhatoccurredontheafternooninquestion?’
‘Certainly,’saidLadyWestholme.‘AfterwehadfinishedlunchIdecidedtotakeabriefsiesta.Themorningexcursionhadbeensomewhatfatiguing.NotthatIwasreallytired—Iseldomam.Idonotreallyknowwhatfatigueis.Onehassooften,onpublicoccasions,nomatterwhatonereallyfeels—’
AgainanadroitmurmurfromPoirot.
‘AsIsay,Iwasinfavourofasiesta.MissPierceagreedwithme.’
‘Oh,yes,’sighedMissPierce.‘AndIwasterriblytiredafterthemorning.Suchadangerousclimb—andalthoughinteresting,mostexhausting.I’mafraidI’mnotquiteasstrongasLadyWestholme.’
‘Fatigue,’saidLadyWestholme,‘canbeconqueredlikeeverythingelse.Imakeapointofnevergivingintomybodilyneeds.’
Poirotsaid:
‘Afterlunch,then,youtwoladieswenttoyourtents?’
‘Yes.’
‘MrsBoyntonwasthensittingatthemouthofhercave?’
‘Herdaughter-in-lawassistedhertherebeforesheherselfwentoff.’
‘Youcouldbothseeher?’
‘Oh,yes,’saidMissPierce.‘Shewasopposite,youknow—only,ofcourse,alittlewayalongandupabove.’
LadyWestholmeelucidatedthestatement
‘Thecavesopenedontoaledge.Belowthatledgeweresometents.Thentherewasasmallstreamandacrossthatstreamwasthebigmarqueeandsomeothertents.MissPierceandIhadtentsnearthemarquee.ShewasontherightsideofthemarqueeandIwasontheleft.Theopeningofourtentsfacedtheledge,butofcourseitwassomedistanceaway.’
‘Nearlytwohundredyards,Iunderstand.’
‘Possibly.’
‘Ihavehereaplan,’saidPoirot,‘concoctedwiththehelpofthedragoman,Mahmoud.’
LadyWestholmeremarkedthatinthatcaseitwasprobablywrong!
‘Thatmanisgrosslyinaccurate.IhavecheckedhisstatementsfrommyBaedeker.Severaltimeshisinformationwasdefinitelymisleading.’
‘Accordingtomyplan,’saidPoirot,‘thecavenexttoMrsBoynton’swasoccupiedbyherson,Lennox,andhiswife.Raymond,CarolandGinevraBoyntonhadtentsjustbelowbutmoretotheright—infact,almostoppositethemarquee.OntherightofGinevraBoynton’swasDrGerard’stentandnexttothatagainthatofMissKing.Ontheothersideofthestream—nexttothemarqueeontheleft—youandMrCopehadtents.MissPierce’s,asyoumentioned,wasontherightofthemarquee.Isthatcorrect?’
LadyWestholmeadmittedgrudginglythatasfarassheknewitwas.
‘Ithankyou.Thatisperfectlyclear.Praycontinue,LadyWestholme.’
LadyWestholmesmiledgraciouslyonhimandwenton:
‘AtaboutquartertofourIstrolledalongtoMissPierce’stenttoseeifshewereawakeyetandfeltlikeastroll.Shewassittinginthedoorwayofthetentreading.Weagreedtostartinabouthalfanhourwhenthesunwaslesshot.Iwentbacktomytentandreadforabouttwenty-fiveminutes.ThenIwentalongandjoinedMissPierce.Shewasreadyandwestartedout.Everyoneinthecampseemedasleep—therewasnooneabout,andseeingMrsBoyntonsittinguptherealone,IsuggestedtoMissPiercethatweshouldaskherifshewantedanythingbeforeweleft.’
‘Yes,youdid.Mostthoughtfulofyou,Iconsidered,’murmuredMissPierce.
‘Ifeltittobemyduty,’saidLadyWestholmewitharichcomplacency.
‘Andthenforhertobesorudeaboutit!’exclaimedMissPierce.
Poirotlookedinquiring.
‘Ourpathpassedjustundertheledge,’explainedLadyWestholme,‘andIcalleduptoher,sayingthatweweregoingforastrollandcouldwedoanythingforherbeforewewent.Doyouknow,M.Poirot,absolutelytheonlyanswershegaveuswasagrunt!Agrunt!Shejustlookedatusasthoughwewere—asthoughweweredirt!’
‘Disgracefulitwas!’saidMissPierce,flushing.
‘Imustconfess,’saidLadyWestholme,reddeningalittle,‘thatImadethenasomewhatuncharitableremark.’
‘Ithinkyouwerequitejustified,’saidMissPierce.‘Quite—underthecircumstances.’
‘Whatwasthisremark?’askedPoirot.
‘IsaidtoMissPiercethatperhapsshedrank!Reallyhermannerwasmostpeculiar.Ithadbeenallalong.Ithoughtitpossiblethatdrinkmightaccountforit.Theevilsofalcoholicindulgence,asIverywellknow—’
Dexterously,Poirotsteeredtheconversationawayfromthedrinkquestion.
‘Hadhermannerbeenverypeculiaronthisparticularday?Atlunch-time,forinstance?’
‘N-No,’saidLadyWestholme,considering.‘No,Ishouldsaythenthathermannerhadbeenfairlynormal—foranAmericanofthattype,thatistosay,’sheaddedcondescendingly.
‘Shewasveryabusivetothatservant,’saidMissPierce.
‘Whichone?’
‘Notverylongbeforewestartedout.’
‘Oh!yes,Iremember,shedidseemextraordinarilyannoyedwithhim!Ofcourse,’wentonLadyWestholme,‘tohaveservantsaboutwhocannotunderstandawordofEnglishisverytrying,butwhatIsayisthatwhenoneistravellingonemustmakeallowances.’
‘Whatservantwasthis?’askedPoirot
‘OneoftheBedouinservantsattachedtothecamp.Hewentuptoher—Ithinkshemusthavesenthimtofetchhersomething,andIsupposehebroughtthewrongthing—Idon’treallyknowwhatitwas—butshewasveryangryaboutit.Thepoormanslunkawayasfastashecould,andsheshookherstickathimandcalledout.’
‘Whatdidshecallout?’
‘Weweretoofarawaytohear.AtleastIdidn’thearanythingdistinctly,didyou,MissPierce?’
‘No,Ididn’t.Ithinkshe’dsenthimtofetchsomethingfromheryoungestdaughter’stent—orperhapsshewasangrywithhimforgoingintoherdaughter’stent—Icouldn’tsayexactly.’
‘Whatdidhelooklike?’
MissPierce,towhomthequestionwasaddressed,shookherheadvaguely.
‘Really,Icouldn’tsay.Hewastoofaraway.AlltheseArabslookaliketome.’
‘Hewasamanofmorethanaverageheight,’saidLadyWestholme,‘andworetheusualnativehead-dress.Hehadonapairofverytornandpatchedbreeches—reallydisgracefultheywere—andhisputteeswerewoundmostuntidily—allanyhow!Thesemenneeddiscipline!’
‘Youcouldpointthemanoutamongthecampservants?’
‘Idoubtit.Wedidn’tseehisface—itwastoofaraway.And,asMissPiercesays,reallytheseArabslookallalike.’
‘Iwonder,’saidPoirotthoughtfully,‘whatitwashedidtomakeMrsBoyntonsoangry?’
‘Theyareverytryingtothepatiencesometimes,’saidLadyWestholme.‘Oneofthemtookmyshoesaway,thoughIhadexpresslytoldhim—bypantomimetoo—thatIpreferredtocleanmyshoesmyself.’
‘AlwaysIdothat,too,’saidPoirot,divertedforamomentfromhisinterrogation.‘Itakeeverywheremylittleshoe-cleaningoutfit.Also,Itakeaduster.’
‘SodoI.’LadyWestholmesoundedquitehuman.
‘BecausetheseArabstheydonotremovethedustfromone’sbelongings—’
‘Never!Ofcourseonehastodustone’sthingsthreeorfourtimesaday—’
‘Butitiswellworthit.’
‘Yes,indeed.IcannotSTANDdirt!’
LadyWestholmelookedpositivelymilitant.
Sheaddedwithfeeling:
‘Theflies—inthebazaars—terrible!’
‘Well,well,’saidPoirot,lookingslightlyguilty.‘WecansooninquirefromthismanwhatitwasthatirritatedMrsBoynton.Tocontinuewithyourstory?’
‘Westrolledalongslowly,’saidLadyWestholme.‘AndthenwemetDrGerard.Hewasstaggeringalongandlookedveryill.Icouldseeatoncehehadfever.’
‘Hewasshaking,’putinMissPierce.‘Shakingallover.’
‘Isawatoncehehadanattackofmalariacomingon,’saidLadyWestholme.‘Iofferedtocomebackwithhimandgethimsomequinine,buthesaidhehadhisownsupplywithhim.’
‘Poorman,’saidMissPierce.‘Youknowitalwaysseemssodreadfultometoseeadoctorill.Itseemsallwrongsomehow.’
‘Westrolledon,’continuedLadyWestholme.‘Andthenwesatdownonarock.’
MissPiercemurmured:‘Really—sotiredafterthemorning’sexertion—theclimbing—’
‘Ineverfeelfatigue,’saidLadyWestholmefirmly.‘Buttherewasnopointingoingfarther.Wehadaverygoodviewofallthesurroundingscenery.’
‘Wereyououtofsightofthecamp?’
‘No,weweresittingfacingtowardsit.’
‘Soromantic,’murmuredMissPierce.‘Acamppitchedinthemiddleofawildernessofrose-redrocks.’
Shesighedandshookherhead.
‘Thatcampcouldbemuchbetterrunthanitis,’saidLadyWestholme.Herrocking-horsenostrilsdilated.‘IshalltakeupthematterwithCastle’s.Iamnotatallsurethatthedrinkingwaterisboiledaswellasfiltered.Itshouldbe.Ishallpointthatouttothem.’
Poirotcoughedandledtheconversationquicklyawayfromthesubjectofdrinkingwater.
‘Didyouseeanyothermembersoftheparty?’heinquired.
‘Yes.TheelderMrBoyntonandhiswifepassedusontheirwaybacktothecamp.’
‘Weretheytogether?’
‘No,MrBoyntoncamefirst.Helookedalittleasthoughhehadhadatouchofthesun.Hewaswalkingasthoughhewereslightlydizzy.’
‘Thebackoftheneck,’saidMissPierce.‘Onemustprotectthebackoftheneck!Ialwayswearathicksilkhandkerchief.’
‘WhatdidMrLennoxBoyntondoonhisreturntothecamp?’askedPoirot.
ForonceMissPiercemanagedtogetinfirstbeforeLadyWestholmecouldspeak
‘Hewentrightuptohismother,buthedidn’tstaylongwithher.’
‘Howlong?’
‘Justaminuteortwo.’
‘Ishouldputitatjustoveraminutemyself,’saidLadyWestholme.‘Thenhewentonintohiscaveandafterthathewentdowntothemarquee.’
‘Andhiswife?’
‘Shecamealongaboutaquarterofanhourlater.Shestoppedaminuteandspoketous—quitecivilly.’
‘Ithinkshe’sverynice,’saidMissPierce.‘Veryniceindeed.’
‘Sheisnotsoimpossibleastherestofthefamily,’allowedLadyWestholme
‘Youwatchedherreturntothecamp?’
‘Yes.Shewentupandspoketohermother-in-law.Thenshewentintohercaveandbroughtoutachair,andsatbyhertalkingforsometime—abouttenminutes,Ishouldsay.’
‘Andthen?’
‘Thenshetookthechairbacktothecaveandwentdowntothemarqueewhereherhusbandwas.’
‘Whathappenednext?’
‘ThatverypeculiarAmericancamealong,’saidLadyWestholme.‘Cope,Ithinkhisnameis.Hetoldusthattherewasaverygoodexampleofthedebasedarchitectureoftheperiodjustroundthebendofthevalley.Hesaidweoughtnottomissit.Accordingly,wewalkedthere.MrCopehadwithhimquiteaninterestingarticleonPetraandtheNabateans.’
‘Itwasallmostinteresting,’declaredMissPierce.
LadyWestholmecontinued:
‘Westrolledbacktothecamp,itbeingthenabouttwentyminutestosix.Itwasgrowingquitechilly.’
‘MrsBoyntonwasstillsittingwhereyouhadlefther?’
‘Yes.’
‘Didyouspeaktoher?’
‘No.AsamatteroffactIhardlynoticedher.’
‘Whatdidyoudonext?’
‘Iwenttomytent,changedmyshoesandgotoutmyownpacketofChinatea.Ithenwenttothemarquee.ThedragomanwasthereandIdirectedhimtomakesometeaforMissPierceandmyselfwiththeteaIhadbroughtandtomakequitesurethatthewaterwithwhichitwasmadewasboiling.Hesaidthatdinnerwouldbereadyinabouthalfanhour—theboyswerelayingthetableatthetime—butIsaidthatmadenodifference.’
‘Ialwayssayacupofteamakesallthedifference,’murmuredMissPiercevaguely.
‘Wasthereanyoneinthemarquee?’
‘Oh,yes.MrandMrsLennoxBoyntonweresittingatoneendreading.AndCarolBoyntonwastheretoo.’
‘AndMrCope?’
‘Hejoinedusatourtea,’saidMissPierce.‘Thoughhesaidtea-drinkingwasn’tanAmericanhabit.’
LadyWestholmecoughed.
‘IbecamejustalittleafraidthatMrCopewasgoingtobeanuisance—thathemightfastenhimselfuponme.Itisalittledifficultsometimestokeeppeopleatarm’slengthwhenoneistravelling.Ifindtheyareinclinedtopresume.Americans,especially,aresometimesratherdense.’
Poirotmurmuredsuavely:
‘Iamsure,LadyWestholme,thatyouarequitecapableofdealingwithsituationsofthatkind.Whentravellingacquaintancesarenolongerofanyusetoyou,Iamsureyouareanadeptatdroppingthem.’
‘IthinkIamcapableofdealingwithmostsituations,’saidLadyWestholmecomplacently.
ThetwinkleinPoirot’seyewasquitelostuponher.
‘Ifyouwilljustconcludeyourrecitaloftheday’shappenings?’murmuredPoirot.
‘Certainly.AsfarasIcanremember,RaymondBoyntonandthered-hairedBoyntongirlcameinshortlyafterwards.MissKingarrivedlast.Dinnerwasthenreadytobeserved.OneoftheservantswasdispatchedbythedragomantoannouncethefacttooldMrsBoynton.ThemancamerunningbackwithoneofhiscomradesinastateofsomeagitationandspoketothedragomaninArabic.TherewassomementionofMrsBoyntonbeingtakenill.MissKingofferedherservices.Shewentoutwiththedragoman.ShecamebackandbrokethenewstothemembersofMrsBoynton’sfamily.’
‘Shediditveryabruptly,’putinMissPierce.‘Justblurteditout.Ithinkmyselfitoughttohavebeendonemoregradually.’
‘AndhowdidMrsBoynton’sfamilytakethenews?’askedPoirot.
ForoncebothLadyWestholmeandMissPierceseemedalittleataloss.Theformersaidatlastinavoicelackingitsusualself-assurance:
‘Well—really—itisdifficulttosay.They—theywereveryquietaboutit.’
‘Stunned,’saidMissPierce.
Sheofferedthewordmoreasasuggestionthanasafact.
‘TheyallwentoutwithMissKing,’saidLadyWestholme.‘MissPierceandIverysensiblyremainedwherewewere.’
AfaintlywistfullookwasobservableinMissPierce’seyeatthispoint.
‘Idetestvulgarcuriosity!’continuedLadyWestholme.
Thewistfullookbecamemorepronounced.ItwasclearthatMissPiercehadhadperforcetohatevulgarcuriosity,too!
‘Later,’concludedLadyWestholme,‘thedragomanandMissKingreturned.Isuggestedthatdinnershouldbeservedimmediatelytothefourofus,sothattheBoyntonfamilycoulddinelaterinthemarqueewithouttheembarrassmentofstrangersbeingpresent.MysuggestionwasadoptedandimmediatelyafterthemealIretiredtomytent.MissKingandMissPiercedidthesame.MrCope,Ibelieve,remainedinthemarqueeashewasafriendofthefamilyandthoughthemightbeofsomeassistancetothem.ThatisallIknow,M.Poirot.’
‘WhenMissKinghadbrokenthenews,alltheBoyntonfamilyaccompaniedheroutofthemarquee?’
‘Yes—no,Ibelieve,nowthatyoucometomentionit,thatthered-hairedgirlstayedbehind.Perhapsyoucanremember,MissPierce?’
‘Yes,Ithink—Iamquitesureshedid.’
Poirotasked:‘Whatdidshedo?’
LadyWestholmestaredathim.
‘Whatdidshedo,M.Poirot?ShedidnotdoanythingasfarasIcanremember.’
‘Imeanwasshesewing—orreading—didshelookanxious—didshesayanything?’
‘Well,really—’LadyWestholmefrowned.‘She—er—shejustsatthereasfarasIcanremember.’
‘Shetwiddledherfingers,’saidMissPiercesuddenly.‘Iremembernoticing—poorthing,Ithought,itshowswhatshe’sfeeling!Notthattherewasanythingtoshowinherface,youknow—justherhandsturningandtwisting.’
‘Once,’wentonMissPierceconversationally,‘Iremembertearingupapoundnotethatway—notthinkingofwhatIwasdoing.“ShallIcatchthefirsttrainandgotoher?”Ithought(itwasagreat-auntofmine—takensuddenlyill).“OrshallInot?”AndIcouldn’tmakeupmymindonewayortheotherandthere,Ilookeddown,andinsteadofthetelegramIwastearingupapoundnote—apoundnote—intotinypieces!’
MissPiercepauseddramatically.
Notentirelyapprovingofthissuddenbidforthelimelightonthepartofhersatellite,LadyWestholmesaidcoldly:‘Isthereanythingelse,M.Poirot?’
Withastart,Poirotseemedtocomeoutofabrownstudy.‘Nothing—nothing—youhavebeenmostclear—mostdefinite.’
‘Ihaveanexcellentmemory,’saidLadyWestholmewithsatisfaction.
‘Onelastlittledemand,LadyWestholme,’saidPoirot.‘Pleasecontinuetositasyouaresitting—withoutlookinground.NowwouldyoubesokindastodescribetomejustwhatMissPierceiswearingtoday—thatisifMissPiercedoesnotobject?’
‘Oh,no!notintheleast!’twitteredMissPierce.
‘Really,M.Poirot,isthereanyobject—’
‘PleasebesokindastodoasIask,madame.’
LadyWestholmeshruggedhershouldersandthensaidwitharatherbadgrace:
‘MissPiercehasonastripedbrownandwhitecottondress,andiswearingwithitaSudanesebeltofred,blueandbeigeleather.Sheiswearingbeigesilkstockingsandbrownglacéstrapshoes.Thereisaladderinherleftstocking.Shehasanecklaceofcornelianbeadsandoneofbrightroyalbluebeads—andiswearingabroochwithapearlbutterflyonit.Shehasanimitationscarabringonthethirdfingerofherrighthand.Onherheadshehasadoubleteraiofpinkandbrownfelt.’
Shepaused—apauseofquietcompetence.Then:
‘Isthereanythingfurther?’sheaskedcoldly.
Poirotspreadouthishandsinawildgesture.
‘Youhavemyentireadmiration,madame.Yourobservationisofthehighestorder.’
‘Detailsrarelyescapeme.’
LadyWestholmerose,madeaslightinclinationofherhead,andlefttheroom.AsMissPiercewasfollowingher,gazingdownruefullyatherleftleg,Poirotsaid:
‘Alittlemoment,please,mademoiselle?’
‘Yes?’MissPiercelookedup,aslightlyapprehensivelookuponherface.
Poirotleanedforwardconfidentially.
‘Youseethisbunchofwildflowersonthetablehere?’
‘Yes,’saidMissPierce—staring.
‘AndyounoticedthatwhenyoufirstcameintotheroomIsneezedonceortwice?’
‘Yes?’
‘DidyounoticeifIhadjustbeensniffingthoseflowers?’
‘Well—really—no—Icouldn’tsay.’
‘Butyouremembermysneezing?’
‘Ohyes,Irememberthat!’
Ah,well—nomatter.Iwondered,yousee,iftheseflowersmightinducethehayfever.Nomatter!’
‘Hayfever?’criedMissPierce.‘Irememberacousinofminewasamartyrtoit!Shealwayssaidthatifyousprayedyournosedailywithasolutionofboracic—’
WithsomedifficultyPoirotshelvedthecousin’snasaltreatmentandgotridofMissPierce.Heshutthedoorandcamebackintotheroomwithhiseyebrowsraised.
‘ButIdidnotsneeze,’hemurmured.‘Somuchforthat.No,Ididnotsneeze.’
Chapter6
LennoxBoyntoncameintotheroomwithaquick,resolutestep.Hadhebeenthere,DrGerardwouldhavebeensurprisedatthechangeintheman.Theapathywasgone.Hisbearingwasalert—althoughhewasplainlynervous.Hiseyeshadatendencytoshiftrapidlyfrompointtopointabouttheroom.
‘Goodmorning,M.Boynton.’Poirotroseandbowedceremoniously.Lennoxrespondedsomewhatawkwardly.‘Imuchappreciateyourgivingmethisinterview.’
LennoxBoyntonsaidratheruncertainly:‘Er—ColonelCarburysaiditwouldbeagoodthing—advisedit—someformalities—hesaid.’
‘Pleasesitdown,M.Boynton.’
LennoxsatdownonthechairlatelyvacatedbyLadyWestholme.Poirotwentonconversationally:
‘Thishasbeenagreatshocktoyou,Iamafraid?’
‘Yes,ofcourse.Well,no,perhapsnot…Wealwaysknewthatmymother’sheartwasnotstrong.’
‘Wasitwise,underthosecircumstances,toallowhertoundertakesuchanarduousexpedition?’
LennoxBoyntonraisedhishead.Hespokenotwithoutacertainsaddignity.
‘Mymother,M.—er—Poirot,madeherowndecisions.Ifshemadeuphermindtoanythingitwasnogoodouropposingher.’
Hedrewinhisbreathsharplyashesaidthelastwords.Hisfacesuddenlywentratherwhite.
‘Iknowwell,’admittedPoirot,‘thatelderlyladiesaresometimesheadstrong.’
Lennoxsaidirritably:
‘Whatisthepurposeofallthis?ThatiswhatIwanttoknow.Whyhavealltheseformalitiesarisen?’
‘Perhapsyoudonotrealize,MrBoynton,thatincasesofsuddenandunexplaineddeaths,formalitiesmustnecessarilyarise.’
Lennoxsaidsharply:‘Whatdoyoumeanby“unexplained”?’
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
‘Thereisalwaysthequestiontobeconsidered:Isadeathnatural—ormightitperhapsbesuicide?’
‘Suicide?’LennoxBoyntonstared.
Poirotsaidlightly:
‘You,ofcourse,wouldknowbestaboutsuchpossibilities.ColonelCarbury,naturally,isinthedark.Itisnecessaryforhimtodecidewhethertoorderaninquiry—anautopsy—alltherestofit.AsIwasonthespotandasIhavemuchexperienceofthesematters,hesuggestedthatIshouldmakeafewinquiriesandadvisehimuponthematter.Naturallyhedoesnotwishtocauseyouinconvenienceifitcanbehelped.’
LennoxBoyntonsaidangrily:‘IshallwiretoourConsulinJerusalem.’
Poirotsaidnon-committally:‘Youarequitewithinyourrightsindoingso,ofcourse.’
Therewasapause.ThenPoirotsaid,spreadingouthishands:
‘Ifyouobjecttoansweringmyquestions—’
LennoxBoyntonsaidquickly:‘Notatall.Only—itseems—allsounnecessary.’
‘Icomprehend.Icomprehendperfectly.Butitisallverysimple,really.Amatter,astheysay,ofroutine.Now,ontheafternoonofyourmother’sdeath,M.Boynton,IbelieveyouleftthecampatPetraandwentforawalk?’
‘Yes.Weallwent—withtheexceptionofmymotherandmyyoungestsister.’
‘Yourmotherwasthensittinginthemouthofhercave?’
‘Yes,justoutsideit.Shesatthereeveryafternoon.’
‘Quiteso.Youstarted—when?’
‘Soonafterthree,Ishouldsay.’
‘Youreturnedfromyourwalk—when?’
‘Ireallycouldn’tsaywhattimeitwas—fouro’clock,fiveo’clock,perhaps.’
‘Aboutanhourortwohoursafteryousetout?’
‘Yes—aboutthat,Ishouldthink.’
‘Didyoupassanyoneonyourwayback?’
‘DidIwhat?’
‘Passanyone.Twoladiessittingonarock,forinstance.’
‘Idon’tknow.Yes,IthinkIdid.’
‘Youwere,perhaps,tooabsorbedinyourthoughtstonotice?’
‘Yes,Iwas.’
‘Didyouspeaktoyourmotherwhenyougotbacktothecamp?’
‘Yes—yes,Idid.’
‘Shedidnotthencomplainoffeelingill?’
‘No—no,sheseemedperfectlyallright.’
‘MayIaskwhatexactlypassedbetweenyou?’
Lennoxpausedaminute.
‘ShesaidIhadcomebacksoon.Isaid,yes,Ihad.’Hepausedagaininaneffortofconcentration.‘Isaiditwashot.She—sheaskedmethetime—saidherwrist-watchhadstopped.Itookitfromher,wounditup,setit,andputitbackonherwrist.’
Poirotinterruptedgently:‘Andwhattimewasit?’
‘Eh?’saidLennox.
‘Whattimewasitwhenyousetthehandsofthewrist-watch?’
‘Oh,Isee.It—itwastwenty-fiveminutestofive.’
‘So,youdoknowexactlythetimeyoureturnedtothecamp!’saidPoirotgently.
Lennoxflushed.
‘Yes,whatafoolIam!I’msorry,M.Poirot,mywitsareallastray,I’mafraid.Allthisworry—’
Poirotchimedinquickly:‘Oh!Iunderstand—Iunderstandperfectly!Itisallofthemostdisquieting!Andwhathappenednext?’
‘Iaskedmymotherifshewantedanything.Adrink—tea,coffee,etc.Shesaidno.ThenIwenttothemarquee.Noneoftheservantsseemedtobeabout,butIfoundsomesodawateranddrankit.Iwasthirsty.IsattherereadingsomeoldnumbersoftheSaturdayEveningPost.IthinkImusthavedozedoff.’
‘Yourwifejoinedyouinthemarquee?’
‘Yes,shecameinnotlongafter.’
‘Andyoudidnotseeyourmotheragainalive?’
‘No.’
‘Shedidnotseeminanywayagitatedorupsetwhenyouweretalkingtoher?’
‘No,shewasexactlyasusual.’
‘Shedidnotrefertoanytroubleorannoyancewithoneoftheservants?’
Lennoxstared.
‘No,nothingatall.’
‘Andthatisallyoucantellme?’
‘Iamafraidso—yes.’
‘Thankyou,MrBoynton.’
Poirotinclinedhisheadasasignthattheinterviewwasover.Lennoxdidnotseemverywillingtodepart.Hestoodhesitatingbythedoor.‘Er—there’snothingelse?’
‘Nothing.Perhapsyouwouldbesogoodastoaskyourwifetocomehere?’
Lennoxwentslowlyout.OnthepadbesidehimPoirotwroteL.B.4.35p.m.
Chapter7
Poirotlookedwithinterestatthetall,dignifiedyoungwomanwhoenteredtheroom.Heroseandbowedtoherpolitely.‘MrsLennoxBoynton?HerculePoirot,atyourservice.’
NadineBoyntonsatdown.HerthoughtfuleyeswereonPoirot’sface.
‘Ihopeyoudonotmind,madame,myintrudingonyoursorrowinthisway?’
Hereyesdidnotwaver.Shedidnotreplyatonce.Hereyesremainedsteadyandgrave.Atlastshegaveasighandsaid:‘Ithinkitisbestformetobequitefrankwithyou,M.Poirot.’
‘Iagreewithyou,madame.’
‘Youapologizedforintrudinguponmysorrow.Thatsorrow,M.Poirot,doesnotexistanditisidletopretendthatitdoes.Ihadnoloveformymother-in-lawandIcannothonestlysaythatIregretherdeath.’
‘Thankyou,madame,foryourplainspeaking.’
Nadinewenton:‘Still,althoughIcannotpretendsorrow,Icanadmittoanotherfeeling—remorse.’
‘Remorse?’Poirot’seyebrowswentup
‘Yes.Because,yousee,itwasIwhobroughtaboutherdeath.ForthatIblamemyselfbitterly.’
‘Whatisthisyouaresaying,madame?’
‘IamsayingthatIwasthecauseofmymother-in-law’sdeath.Iwasacting,asIthought,honestly—buttheresultwasunfortunate.Toallintentsandpurposes,Ikilledher.’
Poirotleanedbackinhischair.‘Willyoubesokindastoelucidatethisstatement,madame?’
Nadinebentherhead.
‘Yes,thatiswhatIwishtodo.Myfirstreaction,naturally,wastokeepmyprivateaffairstomyself,butIseethatthetimehascomewhenitwouldbebettertospeakout.Ihavenodoubt,M.Poirot,thatyouhaveoftenreceivedconfidencesofasomewhatintimatenature?’
‘That,yes.’
‘ThenIwilltellyouquitesimplywhatoccurred.Mymarriedlife,M.Poirot,hasnotbeenparticularlyhappy.Myhusbandisnotentirelytoblameforthat—hismother’sinfluenceoverhimhasbeenunfortunate—butIhavebeenfeelingforsometimethatmylifewasbecomingintolerable.’
Shepausedandthenwenton:
‘Ontheafternoonofmymother-in-law’sdeathIcametoadecision.Ihaveafriend—averygoodfriend.HehassuggestedmorethanoncethatIshouldthrowinmylotwithhim.OnthatafternoonIacceptedhisproposal.’
‘Youdecidedtoleaveyourhusband?’
‘Yes.’
‘Continue,madame.’
Nadinesaidinalowervoice:
‘Havingoncemademydecision,Iwantedto—toestablishitassoonaspossible.Iwalkedhometothecampbymyself.Mymother-in-lawwassittingalone,therewasnooneabout,andIdecidedtobreakthenewstoherthereandthen.Igotachair—satdownbyherandtoldherabruptlywhatIhaddecided.’
‘Shewassurprised?’
‘Yes,Iamafraiditwasagreatshocktoher.Shewasbothsurprisedandangry—veryangry.She—sheworkedherselfintoquiteastateaboutit!PresentlyIrefusedtodiscussthematteranylonger.Igotupandwalkedaway.’Hervoicedropped.‘I—Ineversawheragainalive.’
Poirotnoddedhisheadslowly.Hesaid:‘Isee.’
Thenhesaid:‘Youthinkherdeathwastheresultoftheshock?’
‘Itseemstomealmostcertain.Yousee,shehadalreadyover-exertedherselfconsiderablygettingtothisplace.Mynews,andherangeratit,woulddotherest…IfeeladditionallyguiltybecauseIhavehadacertainamountoftraininginillnessandsoI,morethananyoneelse,oughttohaverealizedthepossibilityofsuchathinghappening.’
Poirotsatinsilenceforsomeminutes,thenhesaid:
‘Whatexactlydidyoudowhenyoulefther?’
‘ItookthechairIhadbroughtoutbackintomycave,thenIwentdowntothemarquee.Myhusbandwasthere.’
Poirotwatchedhercloselyashesaid:
‘Didyoutellhimofyourdecision?Orhadyoualreadytoldhim?’
Therewasapause,aninfinitesimalpause,beforeNadinesaid:‘Itoldhimthen.’
‘Howdidhetakeit?’
Sheansweredquietly:‘Hewasveryupset.’
‘Didheurgeyoutoreconsideryourdecision?’
Sheshookherhead.
‘He—hedidn’tsayverymuch.Yousee,wehadbothknownforsometimethatsomethinglikethismighthappen.’
Poirotsaid:‘Youwillpardonme,but—theothermanwas,ofcourse,MrJeffersonCope?’
Shebentherhead.‘Yes.’
Therewasalongpause,then,withoutanychangeofvoice,Poirotasked:‘Doyouownahypodermicsyringe,madame?’
‘Yes—no.’
Hiseyebrowsrose.
Sheexplained:‘Ihaveanoldhypodermicamongstotherthingsinatravellingmedicinechest,butitisinourbigluggagewhichweleftinJerusalem.’
‘Isee.’
Therewasapause,thenshesaid,withashiverofuneasiness:‘Whydidyouaskmethat,M.Poirot?’
Hedidnotanswerthequestion.Insteadheputoneofhisown.‘MrsBoyntonwas,Ibelieve,takingamixturecontainingdigitalis?’
‘Yes.’
Hethoughtthatshewasdefinitelywatchfulnow.
‘Thatwasforherhearttrouble?’
‘Yes.’
‘Digitalisis,tosomeextent,acumulativedrug?’
‘Ibelieveitis.Idonotknowverymuchaboutit.’
‘IfMrsBoyntonhadtakenabigoverdoseofdigitalis—’
Sheinterruptedhimquicklybutwithdecision.
‘Shedidnot.Shewasalwaysmostcareful.SowasIifImeasuredthedoseforher.’
‘Theremighthavebeenanoverdoseinthisparticularbottle.Amistakeofthechemistwhomadeitup?’
‘Ithinkthatisveryunlikely,’sherepliedquietly.
‘Ah,well:theanalysiswillsoontellus.’
Nadinesaid:‘Unfortunatelythebottlewasbroken.’
Poiroteyedherwithsuddeninterest.
‘Indeed.Whobrokeit?’
‘I’mnotquitesure.Oneoftheservants,Ithink.Incarryingmymother-in-law’sbodyintohercave,therewasagooddealofconfusionandthelightwasverypoor.Atablegotknockedover.’
Poiroteyedhersteadilyforaminuteortwo.
‘That,’hesaid,‘isveryinteresting.’
NadineBoyntonshiftedwearilyinherchair.
‘Youaresuggesting,Ithink,thatmymother-in-lawdidnotdieofshock,butofanoverdoseofdigitalis?’shesaid,andwenton:‘Thatseemstomemostimprobable.’
Poirotleanedforward.
‘EvenwhenItellyouthatDrGerard,theFrenchphysicianwhowasstayinginthecamp,hadmissedanappreciablequantityofapreparationofdigitoxinfromhismedicinechest?’
Herfacegrewverypale.Hesawtheclutchofherhandonthetable.Hereyesdropped.Shesatverystill.ShewaslikeaMadonnacarvedinstone.
‘Well,madame,’saidPoirotatlast,‘whathaveyoutosaytothat?’
Thesecondstickedonbutshedidnotspeak.Itwasquitetwominutesbeforesheraisedherhead,andhestartedalittlewhenhesawthelookinhereyes.
‘M.Poirot,Ididnotkillmymother-in-law.Thatyouknow!ShewasaliveandwellwhenIlefther.Therearemanypeoplewhocantestifytothat!Therefore,beinginnocentofthecrime,Icanventuretoappealtoyou.Whymustyoumixyourselfupinthisbusiness?IfIsweartoyouonmyhonourthatjusticeandonlyjusticehasbeendone,willyounotabandonthisinquiry?Therehasbeensomuchsuffering—youdonotknow.Nowthatatlastthereispeaceandthepossibilityofhappiness,mustyoudestroyitall?’
Poirotsatupverystraight.Hiseyesshonewithagreenlight.‘Letmebeclear,madame;whatareyouaskingmetodo?’
‘Iamtellingyouthatmymother-in-lawdiedanaturaldeathandIamaskingyoutoacceptthatstatement.’
‘Letusbedefinite.Youbelievethatyourmother-in-lawwasdeliberatelykilled,andyouareaskingmetocondonemurder!’
‘Iamaskingyoutohavepity!’
‘Yes—onsomeonewhohadnopity!’
‘Youdonotunderstand—itwasnotlikethat.’
‘Didyoucommitthecrimeyourself,madame,thatyouknowsowell?’
Nadineshookherhead.Sheshowednosignsofguilt.‘No,’shesaidquietly.‘ShewasalivewhenIlefther.’
‘Andthen—whathappened?Youknow—oryoususpect?’
Nadinesaidpassionately:
‘Ihaveheard,M.Poirot,thatonce,inthataffairoftheOrientExpress,youacceptedanofficialverdictofwhathadhappened?’
Poirotlookedathercuriously.‘Iwonderwhotoldyouthat?’
‘Isittrue?’
Hesaidslowly:‘Thatcasewas—different.’
‘No.No,itwasnotdifferent!Themanwhowaskilledwasevil’—hervoicedropped—‘asshewas…’
Poirotsaid:‘Themoralcharacterofthevictimhasnothingtodowithit!Ahumanbeingwhohasexercisedtherightofprivatejudgementandtakenthelifeofanotherhumanbeingisnotsafetoexistamongstthecommunity.Itellyouthat!I,HerculePoirot!’
‘Howhardyouare!’
‘Madame,insomewaysIamadamant.Iwillnotcondonemurder!ThatisthefinalwordofHerculePoirot.’
Shegotup.Herdarkeyesflashedwithsuddenfire.
‘Thengoon!Bringruinandmiseryintothelivesofinnocentpeople!Ihavenothingmoretosay.’
‘ButI,Ithink,madame,thatyouhavealottosay…’
‘No,nothingmore.’
‘But,yes.Whathappened,madame,afteryouleftyourmother-in-law?Whilstyouandyourhusbandwereinthemarqueetogether?’
Sheshruggedhershoulders.‘HowshouldIknow?’
‘Youdoknow—oryoususpect.’
Shelookedhimstraightintheeyes.‘Iknownothing,M.Poirot.’
Turning,shelefttheroom.
Chapter8
Afternotingonhispad—N.B.4.40—PoirotopenedthedoorandcalledtotheorderlywhomColonelCarburyhadleftathisdisposal,anintelligentmanwithagoodknowledgeofEnglish.HeaskedhimtofetchMissCarolBoynton.
Helookedwithsomeinterestatthegirlassheentered,atthechestnuthair,thepoiseoftheheadonthelongneck,thenervousenergyofthebeautifullyshapedhands.
Hesaid:‘Sitdown,mademoiselle.’
Shesatdownobediently.Herfacewascolourlessandexpressionless.Poirotbeganwithamechanicalexpressionofsympathytowhichthegirlacquiescedwithoutanychangeofexpression.
‘Andnow,mademoiselle,willyourecounttomehowyouspenttheafternoonofthedayinquestion?’
Heranswercamepromptly,raisingthesuspicionthatithadalreadybeenwellrehearsed
‘Afterluncheonweallwentforastroll.Ireturnedtothecamp—’
Poirotinterrupted.‘Alittleminute.Wereyoualltogetheruntilthen?’
‘No,IwaswithmybrotherRaymondandMissKingformostofthetime.ThenIstrolledoffonmyown.’
‘Thankyou.Andyouweresayingyoureturnedtothecamp.Doyouknowtheapproximatetime?’
‘Ibelieveitwasjustabouttenminutespastfive.’
PoirotputdownC.B.5.10.
‘Andwhatthen?’
‘Mymotherwasstillsittingwhereshehadbeenwhenwesetout.Iwentupandspoketoher,andthenwentontomytent.’
‘Canyourememberexactlywhatpassedbetweenyou?’
‘IjustsaiditwasveryhotandthatIwasgoingtoliedown.Mymothersaidshewouldremainwhereshewas.Thatwasall.’
‘Didanythinginherappearancestrikeyouasoutoftheordinary?’
‘No.Atleastthatis—’
Shepauseddoubtfully,staringatPoirot.
‘Itisnotfrommethatyoucangettheanswer,mademoiselle,’saidPoirotquietly.
‘Iwasjustconsidering.Ihardlynoticedatthetime,butnow,lookingback—’
‘Yes?’
Carolsaidslowly:‘Itistrue—shewasafunnycolour—herfacewasveryred—moresothanusual.’
‘Shemight,perhaps,havehadashockofsomekind?’Poirotsuggested.
‘Ashock?’shestaredathim.
‘Yes,shemighthavehad,letussay,sometroublewithoneoftheArabservants.’
‘Oh!’Herfacecleared.‘Yes—shemight.’
‘Shedidnotmentionsuchathinghavinghappened?’
‘N-o—no,nothingatall.’
Poirotwenton:‘Andwhatdidyoudonext,mademoiselle?’
‘Iwenttomytentandlaydownforabouthalfanhour.ThenIwentdowntothemarquee.Mybrotherandhiswifeweretherereading.’
‘Andwhatdidyoudo?’
‘Oh!Ihadsomesewingtodo.AndthenIpickedupamagazine.’
‘Didyouspeaktoyourmotheragainonyourwaytothemarquee?’
‘No.Iwentstraightdown.Idon’tthinkIevenglancedinherdirection.’
‘Andthen?’
‘Iremainedinthemarqueeuntil—untilMissKingtoldusshewasdead.’
‘Andthatisallyouknow,mademoiselle?’
‘Yes.’
Poirotleanedforward.Histonewasthesame,lightandconversational.
‘Andwhatdidyoufeel,mademoiselle?’
‘WhatdidIfeel?’
‘Yes—whenyoufoundthatyourmother—pardon—yourstepmother,wasshenot?—whatdidyoufeelwhenyoufoundherdead?’
Shestaredathim.
‘Idon’tunderstandwhatyoumean!’
‘Ithinkyouunderstandverywell.’
Hereyesdropped.Shesaiduncertainly:
‘Itwas—agreatshock.’
‘Wasit?’
Thebloodrushedtoherface.Shestaredathimhelplessly.Nowhesawfearinhereyes.
‘Wasitsuchagreatshock,mademoiselle?RememberingacertainconversationyouhadwithyourbrotherRaymondonenightinJerusalem?’
Hisshotprovedright.Hesawitinthewaythecolourdrainedoutofhercheeksagain.
‘Youknowaboutthat?’shewhispered.
‘Yes,Iknow.’
‘Buthow—how?’
‘Partofyourconversationwasoverheard.’
‘Oh!’CarolBoyntonburiedherfaceinherhands.Hersobsshookthetable.
HerculePoirotwaitedaminute,thenhesaidquietly:
‘Youwereplanningtogethertobringaboutyourstepmother’sdeath.’
Carolsobbedoutbrokenly:‘Weweremad—mad—thatevening!’
‘Perhaps.’
‘It’simpossibleforyoutounderstandthestatewewerein!’Shesatup,pushingbackthehairfromherface.‘Itwouldsoundfantastic.Itwasn’tsobadinAmerica—buttravellingbroughtithometousso.’
‘Broughtwhathometoyou?’Hisvoicewaskindnow,sympathetic.
‘Ourbeingdifferentfrom—otherpeople!We—wegotdesperateaboutit.AndtherewasJinny.’
‘Jinny?’
‘Mysister.Youhaven’tseenher.Shewasgoing—well,queer.AndMotherwasmakingherworse.Shedidn’tseemtorealize.Wewereafraid,RayandI,thatJinnywasgoingquite,quitemad!AndwesawNadinethoughtso,too,andthatmadeusmoreafraidbecauseNadineknowsaboutnursingandthingslikethat.’
‘Yes,yes?’
‘ThateveninginJerusalemthingskindofboiledup!Raywasbesidehimself.HeandIgotallstrungupanditseemed—oh,indeed,itdidseemrighttoplanaswedid!Mother—Motherwasn’tsane.Idon’tknowwhatyouthink,butitcanseemquiteright—almostnoble—tokillsomeone!’
Poirotnoddedhisheadslowly.‘Yes,ithasseemedso,Iknow,tomany.Thatisprovedbyhistory.’
‘That’showRayandIfelt—thatnight…’Shebeatherhandonthetable.‘Butwedidn’treallydoit.Ofcoursewedidn’tdoit!Whendaylightcamethewholethingseemedabsurd,melodramatic—oh,yes,andwickedtoo!Indeed,indeed,M.Poirot,Motherdiedperfectlynaturallyofheartfailure.RayandIhadnothingtodowithit.’
Poirotsaidquietly:‘Willyousweartome,mademoiselle,asyouhopeforsalvationafterdeath,thatMrsBoyntondidnotdieastheresultofanyactionofyours?’
Sheliftedherhead.Hervoicecamesteadyanddeep:
‘Iswear,’saidCarol,‘asIhopeforsalvation,thatIneverharmedher…’
Poirotleanedbackinhischair.
‘So,’hesaid,‘thatisthat.’
Therewassilence.Poirotthoughtfullycaressedhissuperbmoustaches.Thenhesaid:‘Whatexactlywasyourplan?’
‘Plan?’
‘Yes,youandyoubrothermusthavehadaplan.’
Inhismindhetickedoffthesecondsbeforeheranswercame.One,two,three.
‘Wehadnoplan,’saidCarolatlast.‘Wenevergotasfarasthat.’
HerculePoirotgotup.
‘Thatisall,mademoiselle.Willyoubesogoodastosendyourbrothertome?’
Carolrose.Shestoodundecidedlyforaminute.
‘M.Poirot,youdo—youdobelieveme?’
‘HaveIsaid,’askedPoirot,‘thatIdonot?’
‘No,but—’Shestopped.
Hesaid:‘Youwillaskyourbrothertocomehere?’
‘Yes.’
Shewentslowlytowardsthedoor.Shestoppedasshegottoit,turningroundpassionately.
‘Ihavetoldyouthetruth—Ihave!’
HerculePoirotdidnotanswer.
CarolBoyntonwentslowlyoutoftheroom.
Chapter9
PoirotnotedthelikenessbetweenbrotherandsisterasRaymondBoyntoncameintotheroom.
Hisfacewassternandset.Hedidnotseemnervousorafraid.Hedroppedintoachair,staredhardatPoirot,andsaid:‘Well?’
Poirotsaidgently:‘Yoursisterhasspokenwithyou?’
Raymondnodded.‘Yes,whenshetoldmetocomehere.OfcourseIrealizethatyoursuspicionsarequitejustified.Ifourconversationwasoverheardthatnight,thefactthatmystepmotherdiedrathersuddenlycertainlywouldseemsuspicious!Icanonlyassureyouthattheconversationwas—themadnessofanevening!Wewere,atthetime,underanintolerablestrain.Thisfantasticplanofkillingmystepmotherdid—oh,howshallIputit?—itletoffsteamsomehow!’
HerculePoirotbenthisheadslowly.
‘That,’hesaid,‘ispossible.’
‘Inthemorning,ofcourse,itallseemed—ratherabsurd!Isweartoyou,M.Poirot,thatIneverthoughtofthematteragain!’
Poirotdidnotanswer.
Raymondsaidquickly:
‘Oh,yes,Iknowthatthatiseasyenoughtosay.Icannotexpectyoutobelievemeonmybareword.Butconsiderthefacts.Ispoketomymotherjustalittlebeforesixo’clock.Shewascertainlyaliveandwellthen.Iwenttomytent,hadawashandjoinedtheothersinthemarquee.FromthattimeonwardsneitherCarolnorImovedfromtheplace.Wewereinfullsightofeveryone.Youmustsee,M.Poirot,thatmymother’sdeathwasnatural—acaseofheartfailure—itcouldn’tbeanythingelse!Therewereservantsabout,alotofcomingandgoing.Anyotherideaisabsurd.’
Poirotsaidquietly:‘Doyouknow,MrBoynton,thatMissKingisoftheopinionthatwhensheexaminedthebody—atsix-thirty—deathhadoccurredatleastanhourandahalfandprobablytwohoursearlier?’
Raymondstaredathim.Helookeddumbfounded.
‘Sarahsaidthat?’hegasped.
Poirotnodded.‘Whathaveyoutosaynow?’
‘But—it’simpossible!’
‘ThatisMissKing’stestimony.NowyoucomeandtellmethatyourmotherwasaliveandwellonlyfortyminutesbeforeMissKingexaminedthebody.’
Raymondsaid:‘Butshewas!’
‘Becareful,MrBoynton.’
‘Sarahmustbemistaken!Theremustbesomefactorshedidn’ttakeintoaccount.Refractionofftherock—something.Icanassureyou,M.Poirot,thatmymotherwasaliveatjustbeforesixandthatIspoketoher.’
Poirot’sfaceshowednothing.
Raymondleantforwardearnestly.
‘M.Poirot,Iknowhowitmustseemtoyou,butlookatthethingfairly.Youareabiasedperson.Youareboundtobebythenatureofthings.Youliveinanatmosphereofcrime.Everysuddendeathmustseemtoyouapossiblecrime!Can’tyourealizethatyoursenseofproportionisnottobereliedupon?Peopledieeveryday—especiallypeoplewithweakhearts—andthereisnothingintheleastsinisteraboutsuchdeaths.’
Poirotsighed.‘Soyouwouldteachmemybusiness,isthatit?’
‘No,ofcoursenot.ButIdothinkthatyouareprejudiced—becauseofthatunfortunateconversation.Thereisnothingreallyaboutmymother’sdeathtoawakensuspicionexceptthatunluckyhystericalconversationbetweenCarolandmyself.’
Poirotshookhishead.‘Youareinerror,’hesaid.‘Thereissomethingelse.ThereisthepoisontakenfromDrGerard’smedicinechest.’
‘Poison?’Raystaredathim.‘Poison?’Hepushedhischairbackalittle.Helookedcompletelystupefied.‘Isthatwhatyoususpect?’
Poirotgavehimaminuteortwo.Thenhesaidquietly,almostindifferently:‘Yourplanwasdifferent—eh?’
‘Oh,yes.’Raymondansweredmechanically.‘That’swhy—thischangeseverything…I—Ican’tthinkclearly.’
‘Whatwasyourplan?’
‘Ourplan?Itwas—’
Raymondstoppedabruptly.Hiseyesbecamealert,suddenlywatchful.
‘Idon’tthink,’hesaid,‘thatI’llsayanymore.’
‘Asyouplease,’saidPoirot.
Hewatchedtheyoungmanoutoftheroom.
Hedrewhispadtowardshimandinsmall,neatcharactersmadeafinalentry.R.B.5.55?
Then,takingalargesheetofpaper,heproceededtowrite.Histaskcompleted,hesatbackwithhisheadononesidecontemplatingtheresult.Itranasfollows:
BoyntonsandJeffersonCopeleavethecamp3.5(approx.)DrGerardandSarahKingleavethecamp3.15(approx.)LadyWestholmeandMissPierceleavethecamp4.15DrGerardreturnstocamp4.20(approx.)LennoxBoyntonreturnstocamp4.35NadineBoyntonreturnstocampandtalkstoMrsBoynton4.40NadineBoyntonleaveshermother-in-lawandgoestomarquee4.50(approx.)CarolBoyntonreturnstocamp5.10LadyWestholme,MissPierceandMrJeffersonCopereturntocamp5.40RaymondBoyntonreturnstocamp5.50SarahKingreturnstocamp6.0Bodydiscovered6.30
Chapter10
‘Iwonder,’saidHerculePoirot.Hefoldedupthelist,wenttothedoorandorderedMahmoudtobebroughttohim.Thestoutdragomanwasvoluble.Wordsdrippedfromhiminarisingflood.
‘Always,always,Iamblamed.Whenanythinghappens,sayalways,myfault.Alwaysmyfault.WhenLadyEllenHuntsprainheranklecomingdownfromPlaceofSacrificeitmyfault,thoughshewouldgohigh-heeledshoesandshesixtyatleast—perhapsseventy.Mylifeallonemisery!Ah!whatwithmiseriesandiniquities,Jewsdotous—’
AtlastPoirotsucceededinstemmingthefloodandingettinginhisquestion.
‘Half-pastfiveo’clock,yousay?No,Inotthinkanyofservantswereaboutthen.Yousee,lunchislate—twoo’clock.Andthentoclearitaway.Afterthelunchallafternoonsleep.Yes,Americans,theynottaketea.Weallsettlesleepbyhalf-pastthree.AtfiveIwhoamsoulofefficiency—always—alwaysIwatchforthecomfortofladiesandgentlemenIserving,IcomeoutknowingthattimeallEnglishladieswanttea.Butnoonethere.Theyallgonewalking.Forme,thatisverywell—betterthanusual.Icangobacksleep.Atquartertosixtroublebegin—largeEnglishlady—verygrandlady—comebackandwantteaalthoughboysarenowlayingdinner.Shemakesquitefuss—sayswatermustbeboiling—Iamtoseemyself.Ah,mygoodgentlemen!Whatalife—whatalife!IdoallIcan—alwaysIblamed—I—’
Poirotaskedabouttherecriminations.
‘Thereisanothersmallmatter.Thedeadladywasangrywithoneoftheboys.Doyouknowwhichoneitwasandwhatitwasabout?’
Mahmoud’shandsrosetoheaven.
‘ShouldIknow?Butnaturallynot.Oldladydidnotcomplaintome.’
‘Couldyoufindout?’
‘No,mygoodgentlemen,thatwouldbeimpossible.Noneoftheboysadmititforamoment.Oldladyangry,yousay?Thennaturallyboyswouldnottell.AbdulsayitMohammed,andMohammedsayitAzizandAzizsayitAissa,andsoon.TheyareallverystupidBedouin—understandnothing.’
Hetookabreathandcontinued:‘NowI,IhaveadvantageofMissioneducation.IrecitetoyouKeats—Shelley—“Iadadoveandasweedovedied—”’
Poirotflinched.ThoughEnglishwasnothisnativetongue,heknewitwellenoughtosufferfromthestrangeenunciationofMahmoud.
‘Superb!’hesaidhastily.‘Superb!DefinitelyIrecommendyoutoallmyfriends.’
Hecontrivedtoescapefromthedragoman’seloquence.ThenhetookhislisttoColonelCarbury,whomhefoundinhisoffice.
Carburypushedhistiealittlemoreaskewandasked:
‘Gotanything?’
Poirotsaid:‘ShallItellyouatheoryofmine?’
‘Ifyoulike,’saidColonelCarburyandsighed.Onewayandanotherheheardagoodmanytheoriesinthecourseofhisexistence.
‘Mytheoryisthatcriminologyistheeasiestscienceintheworld!Onehasonlytoletthecriminaltalk—soonerorlaterhewilltellyoueverything.’
‘Irememberyousaidsomethingofthekindbefore.Who’sbeentellingyouthings?’
‘Everybody.’Briefly,Poirotretailedtheinterviewshehadhadthatmorning
‘H’m,’saidCarbury.‘Yes,you’vegotholdofapointerortwo,perhaps.Pityofitistheyallseemtopointinoppositedirections.Havewegotacase,that’swhatIwanttoknow?’
‘No.’
Carburysighedagain.‘Iwasafraidnot.’
‘Butbeforenightfall,’saidPoirot,‘youshallhavethetruth!’
‘Well,that’sallyoueverpromisedme,’saidColonelCarbury.‘AndIratherdoubtedyougettingthat!Sureofit?’
‘Iamverysure.’
‘Mustbenicetofeellikethat,’commentedtheother.
Iftherewasafainttwinkleinhiseye,Poirotappearedunawareofit.Heproducedhislist.
‘Neat,’saidColonelCarburyapprovingly.
Hebentoverit.
Afteraminuteortwohesaid:‘KnowwhatIthink?’
‘Ishouldbedelightedifyouwouldtellme.’
‘YoungRaymondBoynton’soutofit.’
‘Ah!youthinkso?’
‘Yes.Clearasabellwhathethought.Wemighthaveknownhe’dbeoutofit.Being,asindetectivestories,themostlikelyperson.Sinceyoupracticallyoverheardhimsayinghewasgoingtobumpofftheoldlady—wemighthaveknownthatmeanthewasinnocent!’
‘Youreadthedetectivestories,yes?’
‘Thousandsofthem,’saidColonelCarbury.Headded,andhistonewasthatofawistfulschoolboy:‘Isupposeyoucouldn’tdothethingsthedetectivedoesinbooks?Writealistofsignificantfacts—thingsthatdon’tseemtomeananythingbutarereallyfrightfullyimportant—thatsortofthing.’
‘Ah,’saidPoirotkindly.‘Youlikethatkindofdetectivestory?Butcertainly,Iwilldoitforyouwithpleasure.’
Hedrewasheetofpapertowardshimandwrotequicklyandneatly:
Significantpoints
MrsBoyntonwastakingamixturecontainingdigitalis.
DrGerardmissedahypodermicsyringe
MrsBoyntontookdefinitepleasureinkeepingherfamilyfromenjoyingthemselveswithotherpeople.
MrsBoynton,ontheafternooninquestion,encouragedherfamilytogoawayandleaveher.
MrsBoyntonwasamentalsadist.
ThedistancefromthemarqueetotheplacewhereMrsBoyntonwassittingis(roughly)twohundredyards.
MrLennoxBoyntonsaidatfirsthedidnotknowwhattimehereturnedtothecamp,butlaterheadmittedhavingsethismother’swrist-watchtotherighttime.
DrGerardandMissGenevraBoyntonoccupiedtentsnextdoortoeachother.
Athalf-pastsix,whendinnerwasready,aservantwasdispatchedtoannouncethefacttoMrsBoynton.
TheColonelperusedthiswithgreatsatisfaction.
‘Capital!’hesaid.‘Justthething!You’vemadeitdifficult—andseeminglyirrelevant—absolutelytheauthentictouch!Bytheway,itseemstomethereareoneortwonoticeableomissions.Butthat,Isuppose,iswhatyoutemptthemugwith?’
Poirot’seyestwinkledalittle,buthedidnotanswer.
‘Pointtwo,forinstance,’saidColonelCarburytentatively.‘DrGerardmissedahypodermicsyringe—yes.Healsomissedaconcentratedsolutionofdigitalis—orsomethingofthatkind.’
‘Thelatterpoint,’saidPoirot,‘isnotimportantinthewaytheabsenceofhishypodermicsyringeisimportant.’
‘Splendid!’saidColonelCarbury,hisfaceirradiatedwithsmiles.‘Idon’tgetitatall.Ishouldhavesaidthedigitaliswasmuchmoreimportantthanthesyringe!Andwhataboutthatservantmotifthatkeepscroppingup—aservantbeingsenttotellherdinnerwasready—andthatstoryofhershakingherstickataservantearlierintheafternoon?You’renotgoingtotellmeoneofmypoordesertmuttsbumpedheroffafterall?Because,’addedColonelCarburysternly,‘ifso,thatwouldbecheating.’
Poirotsmiled,butdidnotanswer.
Ashelefttheofficehemurmuredtohimself:
‘Incredible!TheEnglishnevergrowup!’
Chapter11
SarahKingsatonahill-topabsentlypluckingupwildflowers.DrGerardsatonaroughwallofstonesnearher.
Shesaidsuddenlyandfiercely:‘Whydidyoustartallthis?Ifithadn’tbeenforyou—’
DrGerardsaidslowly:‘YouthinkIshouldhavekeptsilence?’
‘Yes.’
‘KnowingwhatIknew?’
‘Youdidn’tknow,’saidSarah.
TheFrenchmansighed.‘Ididknow.ButIadmitonecanneverbeabsolutelysure.’
‘Yes,onecan,’saidSarahuncompromisingly.
TheFrenchmanshruggedhisshoulders.‘You,perhaps!’
Sarahsaid:‘Youhadfever—ahightemperature—youcouldn’tbeclear-headedaboutthebusiness.Thesyringewasprobablythereallthetime.Andyoumayhavemadeamistakeaboutthedigitoxinoroneoftheservantsmayhavemeddledwiththecase.’
Gerardsaidcynically:‘Youneednotworry!Theevidenceisalmostboundtobeinconclusive.Youwillsee,yourfriendstheBoyntonswillgetawaywithit!’
Sarahsaidfiercely:‘Idon’twantthat,either.’
Heshookhishead.‘Youareillogical!’
‘Wasn’tityou—’Sarahdemanded,‘inJerusalem—whosaidagreatdealaboutnotinterfering?Andnowlook!’
‘Ihavenotinterfered.IhaveonlytoldwhatIknow!’
‘AndIsayyoudon’tknowit.Ohdear,thereweare,backagain!I’marguinginacircle.’
Gerardsaidgently:‘Iamsorry,MissKing.’
Sarahsaidinalowvoice:
‘Yousee,afterall,theyhaven’tescaped—anyofthem!She’sstillthere!Evenfromhergraveshecanstillreachoutandholdthem.Therewassomething—terribleabouther—she’sjustasterriblenowshe’sdead!Ifeel—Ifeelshe’senjoyingallthis!’
Sheclenchedherhands.Thenshesaidinanentirelydifferenttone,alighteverydayvoice:‘Thatlittleman’scomingupthehill.’
DrGerardlookedoverhisshoulder.
‘Ah!hecomesinsearchofus,Ithink.’
‘Isheasmuchofafoolashelooks?’askedSarah.
DrGerardsaidgravely:‘Heisnotafoolatall.’
‘Iwasafraidofthat,’saidSarahKing.
WithsombreeyesshewatchedtheuphillprogressofHerculePoirot.
Hereachedthematlast,utteredaloud‘ouf’andwipedhisforehead.Thenhelookedsadlydownathispatentleathershoes.
‘Alas!’hesaid.‘Thisstonycountry!Mypoorshoes.’
‘YoucanborrowLadyWestholme’sshoe-cleaningapparatus,’saidSarahunkindly.‘Andherduster.Shetravelswithakindofpatenthousemaid’sequipment.’
‘Thatwillnotremovethescratches,mademoiselle,’Poirotshookhisheadsadly.
‘Perhapsnot.Whyonearthdoyouwearshoeslikethatinthissortofcountry?’
Poirotputhisheadalittleononeside.
‘Iliketohavetheappearancesoigné,’hesaid.
‘Ishouldgiveuptryingforthatinthedesert,’saidSarah.
‘Womendonotlooktheirbestinthedesert,’saidDrGerarddreamily.‘ButMissKinghere,yes—shealwayslooksneatandwell-turnedout.ButthatLadyWestholmeinhergreatthickcoatsandskirtsandthoseterribleunbecomingridingbreechesandboots—quellehorreurdefemme!AndthepoorMissPierce—herclothessolimp,likefadedcabbageleaves,andthechainsandthebeadsthatclink!EvenyoungMrsBoynton,whoisagood-lookingwoman,isnotwhatyoucallchic!Herclothesareuninteresting.’
Sarahsaidrestively:‘Well,Idon’tsupposeM.Poirotclimbedupheretotalkaboutclothes!’
‘True,’saidPoirot.‘IcametoconsultDrGerard—hisopinionshouldbeofvaluetome—andyours,too,mademoiselle—youareyounganduptodateinyourpsychology.Iwanttoknow,yousee,allthatyoucantellmeofMrsBoynton.’
‘Don’tyouknowallthatbyheartnow?’askedSarah.
‘No.Ihaveafeeling—morethanafeeling—acertaintythatthementalequipmentofMrsBoyntonisveryimportantinthiscase.SuchtypesashersarenodoubtfamiliartoDrGerard.’
‘Frommypointofviewshewascertainlyaninterestingstudy,’saidthedoctor.
‘Tellme.’
DrGerardwasnothingloath.Hedescribedhisowninterestinthefamilygroup,hisconversationwithJeffersonCope,andthelatter’scompletemisreadingofthesituation.
‘Heisasentimentalist,then,’saidPoirot.
‘Oh,essentially!Hehasideals—based,really,onadeepinstinctoflaziness.Totakehumannatureatitsbest,andtheworldasapleasantplaceisundoubtedlytheeasiestcourseinlife!JeffersonCopehas,consequently,nottheleastideawhatpeoplearereallylike.’
‘Thatmightbedangeroussometimes,’saidPoirot.
DrGerardwenton:‘HepersistedinregardingwhatImaydescribeas“theBoyntonsituation”asacaseofmistakendevotion.Oftheunderlyinghate,rebellion,slaveryandmiseryhehadonlythefaintestnotion.’
‘Itisstupid,that,’Poirotcommented.
‘Allthesame,’wentonDrGerard,‘eventhemostwillfullyobtuseofsentimentaloptimistscannotbequiteblind.Ithink,onthejourneytoPetra,MrJeffersonCope’seyeswerebeingopened.’
AndhedescribedtheconversationhehadhadwiththeAmericanonthemorningofMrsBoynton’sdeath.
‘Thatisaninterestingstory,thatstoryofaservantgirl,’saidPoirotthoughtfully.‘Itthrowslightontheoldwoman’smethods.’
Gerardsaid:‘Itwasaltogetheranoddstrangemorning,that!YouhavenotbeentoPetra,M.Poirot.IfyougoyoumustcertainlyclimbtothePlaceofSacrifice.Ithasan—howshallIsay?—anatmosphere!’Hedescribedthesceneindetail,adding:‘Mademoiselleheresatlikeayoungjudge,speakingofthesacrificeofonetosavemany.Youremember,MissKing?’
Sarahshivered.‘Don’t!Don’tlet’stalkofthatday.’
‘No,no,’saidPoirot.‘Letustalkofeventsfurtherbackinthepast.Iaminterested,DrGerard,inyoursketchofMrsBoynton’smentality.WhatIdonotquiteunderstandisthis,havingbroughtherfamilyintoabsolutesubjection,whydidshethenarrangethistripabroadwheresurelytherewasdangerofoutsidecontactsandofherauthoritybeingweakened?’
DrGerardleanedforwardexcitedly.
‘But,monvieux,thatisjustit!Oldladiesarethesamealltheworldover.Theygetbored!Iftheirspecialtyisplayingpatience,theysickenofthepatiencetheyknowtoowell.Theywanttolearnanewpatience.Anditisjustthesamewithanoldladywhoserecreation(incredibleasitmaysound)isthedominatingandtormentingofhumancreatures!MrsBoynton—tospeakofherasunedompteuse—hadtamedhertigers.Therewasperhapssomeexcitementastheypassedthroughthestageofadolescence.Lennox’smarriagetoNadinewasanadventure.Butthen,suddenly,allwasstale.Lennoxissosunkinmelancholythatitispracticallyimpossibletowoundordistresshim.RaymondandCarolshownosignsofrebellion.Ginevra—ah!lapauvreGinevra—she,fromhermother’spointofview,givesthepoorestsportofall.ForGinevrahasfoundawayofescape!Sheescapesfromrealityintofantasy.Themorehermothergoadsher,themoreeasilyshegetsasecretthrilloutofbeingapersecutedheroine!FromMrsBoynton’spointofviewitisalldeadlydull.Sheseeks,likeAlexander,newworldstoconquer.Andsosheplansthevoyageabroad.Therewillbethedangerofhertamedbeastsrebelling,therewillbeopportunitiesforinflictingfreshpain!Itsoundsabsurd,doesitnot,butitwasso!Shewantedanewthrill.’
Poirottookadeepbreath.‘Itisperfect,that.Yes,Iseeexactlywhatyoumean.Itwasso.Itallfitsin.Shechosetolivedangerously,lamamanBoynton—andshepaidthepenalty!’
Sarahleanedforward,herpale,intelligentfaceveryserious.‘Youmean,’shesaid,‘thatshedrovehervictimstoofarand—andtheyturnedonher—or—oroneofthemdid?’
Poirotbowedhishead.
Sarahsaid,andhervoicewasalittlebreathless:
‘Whichofthem?’
Poirotlookedather,atherhandsclenchedfiercelyonthewildflowers,atthepalerigidityofherface.
Hedidnotanswer—wasindeedsavedfromanswering,foratthatmomentGerardtouchedhisshoulderandsaid:‘Look.’
Agirlwaswanderingalongthesideofthehill.Shemovedwithastrangerhythmicgracethatsomehowgavetheimpressionthatshewasnotquitereal.Thegoldredofherhairshoneinthesunlight,astrangesecretivesmileliftedthebeautifulcornersofhermouth.Poirotdrewinhisbreath.
Hesaid:‘Howbeautiful…Howstrangelymovinglybeautiful…ThatishowOpheliashouldbeplayed—likeayounggoddessstrayingfromanotherworld,happybecauseshehasescapedoutofthebondageofhumanjoysandgriefs.’
‘Yes,yes,youareright,’saidGerard.‘Itisafacetodreamof,isitnot?Idreamtofit.InmyfeverIopenedmyeyesandsawthatface—withitssweet,unearthlysmile…Itwasagooddream.Iwassorrytowake…’
Then,withareturntohiscommonplacemanner:
‘ThatisGinevraBoynton,’hesaid.
Chapter12
Inanotherminutethegirlhadreachedthem.
DrGerardperformedtheintroduction.
‘MissBoynton,thisisM.HerculePoirot.’
‘Oh.’Shelookedathimuncertainly.Herfingersjoinedtogether,twinedthemselvesuneasilyinandout.Theenchantednymphhadcomebackfromthecountryofenchantment.Shewasnowjustanordinaryawkwardgirl,slightlynervousandillatease.
Poirotsaid:‘Itisapieceofgoodfortunemeetingyouhere,mademoiselle.Itriedtoseeyouinthehotel.’
‘Didyou?’
Hersmilewasvacant.Herfingersbeganpluckingatthebeltofherdress.Hesaidgently:
‘Willyouwalkwithmealittleway?’
Shemoveddocilelyenough,obedienttohiswhim.
Presentlyshesaid,ratherunexpectedly,inaqueer,hurriedvoice:
‘Youare—youareadetective,aren’tyou?’
‘Yes,mademoiselle.’
‘Averywell-knowndetective?’
‘Thebestdetectiveintheworld,’saidPoirot,statingitasasimpletruth,nomore,noless.
GinevraBoyntonbreathedverysoftly:
‘Youhavecomeheretoprotectme?’
Poirotstrokedhismoustachesthoughtfully.Hesaid:
‘Areyou,then,indanger,mademoiselle?’
‘Yes,yes.’Shelookedroundwithaquick,suspiciousglance.‘ItoldDrGerardaboutitinJerusalem.Hewasveryclever.Hegavenosignatthetime.Buthefollowedme—tothatterribleplacewiththeredrocks.’Sheshivered.‘Theymeanttokillmethere.Ihavetobecontinuallyonmyguard.’
Poirotnoddedgentlyandindulgently.
GinevraBoyntonsaid:‘Heiskind—andgood.Heisinlovewithme!’
‘Yes?’
‘Oh,yes.Hesaysmynameinhissleep…’Hervoicesoftened—againakindoftrembling,unearthlybeautyhoveredthere.‘Isawhim—lyingthereturningandtossing—andsayingmyname…Istoleawayquietly.’Shepaused.‘Ithought,perhaps,hehadsentforyou?Ihaveaterriblelotofenemies,youknow.Theyareallroundme.Sometimestheyaredisguised.’
‘Yes,yes,’saidPoirotgently.‘Butyouaresafehere—withallyourfamilyroundyou.’
Shedrewherselfupproudly.
‘Theyarenotmyfamily!Ihavenothingtodowiththem.IcannottellyouwhoIreallyam—thatisagreatsecret.Itwouldsurpriseyouifyouknew.’
Hesaidgently:‘Wasyourmother’sdeathagreatshocktoyou,mademoiselle?’
Ginevrastampedherfeet.
‘Itellyou—shewasn’tmymother!MyenemiespaidhertopretendshewasandtoseeIdidnotescape!’
‘Wherewereyouontheafternoonofherdeath?’
‘Iwasinthetent…Itwashotinthere,butIdidn’tdarecomeout…Theymighthavegotme…’Shegavealittlequiver.‘Oneofthem—lookedintomytent.HewasdisguisedbutIknewhim.Ipretendedtobeasleep.TheSheikhhadsenthim.TheSheikhwantedtokidnapme,ofcourse.’
ForafewmomentsPoirotwalkedinsilence,thenhesaid:‘Theyareverypretty,thesehistoriesyourecounttoyourself?’
Shestopped.Sheglaredathim.‘They’retrue.They’realltrue.’Againshestampedanangryfoot.
‘Yes,’saidPoirot,‘theyarecertainlyingenious.’
Shecriedout:‘Theyaretrue—true—’
Then,angrily,sheturnedfromhimandrandownthehillside.Poirotstoodlookingafterher.Inaminuteortwoheheardavoiceclosebehindhim.
‘Whatdidyousaytoher?’
PoirotturnedtowhereDrGerard,alittleoutofbreath,stoodbesidehim.Sarahwascomingtowardsthemboth,butshecameatamoreleisurelypace.
PoirotansweredGerard’squestion.
‘Itoldher,’hesaid,‘thatshehadimaginedtoherselfsomeprettystories.’
Thedoctornoddedhisheadthoughtfully
‘Andshewasangry?Thatisagoodsign.Itshows,yousee,thatshehasnotyetcompletelypassedthroughthedoor.Shestillknowsthatitisnotthetruth!Ishallcureher.’
‘Ah,youareundertakingacure?’
‘Yes.IhavediscussedthematterwithyoungMrsBoyntonandherhusband.GinevrawillcometoParisandenteroneofmyclinics.Afterwardsshewillhavehertrainingforthestage.’
‘Thestage?’
‘Yes—thereisapossibilitythereforherofgreatsuccess.Andthatiswhatsheneeds—whatshemusthave!Inmanyessentialsshehasthesamenatureashermother.’
‘No!’criedSarah,revolted.
‘Itseemsimpossibletoyou,butcertainfundamentaltraitsarethesame.Theywerebothbornwithagreatyearningforimportance;theybothdemandthattheirpersonalityshallimpress!Thispoorchildhasbeenthwartedandsuppressedateveryturn;shehasbeengivennooutletforherfierceambition,forherloveoflife,fortheexpressionofhervividromanticpersonality.’Hegavealittlelaugh.‘Nousallonschangertout?a!’
Then,withalittlebow,hemurmured:‘Youwillexcuseme?’Andhehurrieddownthehillafterthegirl.
Sarahsaid:‘DrGerardistremendouslykeenonhisjob.’
‘Iperceivehiskeenness,’saidPoirot.
Sarahsaid,withafrown:‘Allthesame,Ican’tbearhiscomparinghertothathorribleoldwoman—although,once—IfeltsorryforMrsBoyntonmyself.’
‘Whenwasthat,mademoiselle?’
‘ThattimeItoldyouaboutinJerusalem.IsuddenlyfeltasthoughI’dgotthewholebusinesswrong.Youknowthatfeelingonehassometimeswhenjustforashorttimeyouseeeverythingtheotherwayround?Igotallhet-upaboutitandwentandmadeafoolofmyself!’
‘Oh,no—notthat!’
Sarah,asalwayswhensherememberedherconversationwithMrsBoynton,wasblushingacutely.
‘IfeltallexaltedasthoughIhadamission!Andthenlater,whenLadyW.fixedafishyeyeonmeandsaidshehadseenmetalkingtoMrsBoynton,Ithoughtshehadprobablyoverheard,andIfeltthemostcompleteass.’
Poirotsaid:‘WhatexactlywasitthatoldMrsBoyntonsaidtoyou?Canyouremembertheexactwords?’
‘Ithinkso.Theymaderatheranimpressiononme.“Ineverforget,”that’swhatshesaid.“Rememberthat.I’veneverforgottenanything—notanaction,notaname,notaface.”’Sarahshivered.‘Shesaiditsomalevolently—notevenlookingatme.Ifeel—Ifeelasif,evennow,Icanhearher…’
Poirotsaidgently:‘Itimpressedyouverymuch?’
‘Yes.I’mnoteasilyfrightened—butsometimesIdreamofhersayingjustthosewordsandherevil,leeringtriumphantface.Ugh!’Shegaveaquickshiver.Thensheturnedsuddenlytohim.
‘M.Poirot,perhapsIoughtnottoask,buthaveyoucometoaconclusionaboutthisbusiness?Haveyoufoundoutanythingdefinite?’
‘Yes.’
Hesawherlipstrembleassheasked,‘What?’
‘IhavefoundouttowhomRaymondBoyntonspokethatnightinJerusalem.ItwastohissisterCarol.’
‘Carol—ofcourse!’
Thenshewenton:‘Didyoutellhim—didyouaskhim—’
Itwasnouse.Shecouldnotgoon.Poirotlookedathergravelyandcompassionately.Hesaidquietly:
‘Itmeans—somuchtoyou,mademoiselle?’
‘Itmeansjusteverything!’saidSarah.Thenshesquaredhershoulders.‘ButI’vegottoknow.’
Poirotsaidquietly:‘Hetoldmethatitwasahystericaloutburst—nomore!Thatheandhissisterwereworkedup.Hetoldmethatindaylightsuchanideaappearedfantastictothemboth.’
‘Isee…’
Poirotsaidgently:‘MissSarah,willyounottellmewhatitisyoufear?’
Sarahturnedawhitedespairingfaceuponhim.
‘Thatafternoon—weweretogether.Andheleftmesaying—sayinghewantedtodosomethingnow—whilehehadthecourage.Ithoughthemeantjustto—totellher.Butsupposinghemeant…’
Hervoicediedaway.Shestoodrigid,fightingforcontrol.
Chapter13
NadineBoyntoncameoutofthehotel.Asshehesitateduncertainly,awaitingfiguresprangforward.
MrJeffersonCopewasimmediatelyathislady’sside.
‘Shallwewalkupthisway?Ithinkit’sthepleasantest.’
Sheacquiesced.
TheywalkedalongandMrCopetalked.Hiswordscamefreelyifatriflemonotonously.ItisnotcertainwhetherheperceivedthatNadinewasnotlistening.Astheyturnedasideontothestonyflower-coveredhill-side,sheinterruptedhim.
‘Jefferson,I’msorry.I’vegottotalktoyou.’
Herfacehadgrownpale.
‘Why,certainly,mydear.Anythingyoulike,butdon’tdistressyourself.’
Shesaid:‘You’reclevererthanIthought.Youknow,don’tyou,whatI’mgoingtosay?’
‘Itisundoubtedlytrue,’saidMrCope,‘thatcircumstancesaltercases.Idofeel,veryprofoundly,thatinthepresentcircumstancesdecisionsmayhavetobereconsidered.’Hesighed.‘You’vegottogorightahead,Nadine,anddojustwhatyoufeel.’
Shesaidwithrealemotion:‘You’resogood,Jefferson.Sopatient!IfeelI’vetreatedyouverybadly.Ireallyhavebeendownrightmeantoyou.’
‘Now,lookhere,Nadine,let’sgetthisright.I’vealwaysknownwhatmylimitationswerewhereyouwereconcerned.I’vehadthedeepestaffectionandrespectforyoueversinceI’veknownyou.AllIwantisyourhappiness.That’sallI’veeverwanted.Seeingyouunhappyhasverynearlydrivenmecrazy.AndImaysaythatI’veblamedLennox.I’vefeltthathedidn’tdeservetokeepyouifhedidn’tvalueyourhappinessalittlemorethanheseemedtodo.’
MrCopetookabreathandwenton:
‘NowI’lladmitthataftertravellingwithyoutoPetra,IfeltthatperhapsLennoxwasn’tquitesomuchtoblameasIthought.Hewasn’tsomuchselfishwhereyouwereconcerned,astoounselfishwherehismotherwasconcerned.Idon’twanttosayanythingagainstthedead,butIdothinkthatyourmother-in-lawwasperhapsanunusuallydifficultwoman.’
‘Yes,Ithinkyoumaysaythat,’murmuredNadine.
‘Anyway,’wentonMrCope,‘youcametomeyesterdayandtoldmethatyou’ddefinitelydecidedtoleaveLennox.Iapplaudyourdecision.Itwasn’tright—thelifeyouwereleading.Youwerequitehonestwithme.Youdidn’tpretendtobemorethanjustmildlyfondofme.Well,thatwasallrightwithme.AllIaskedwasthechancetolookafteryouandtreatyouasyoushouldbetreated.Imaysaythatafternoonwasoneofthehappiestafternoonsinmylife.’
Nadinecriedout:‘I’msorry—I’msorry.’
‘No,mydear,becauseallalongIhadakindoffeelingthatitwasn’treal.Ifeltitwasquiteonthecardsthatyouwouldhavechangedyourmindbythenextmorning.Well,thingsaredifferentnow.YouandLennoxcanleadalifeofyourown.’
Nadinesaidquietly:‘Yes.Ican’tleaveLennox.Pleaseforgiveme.’
‘Nothingtoforgive,’declaredMrCope.‘YouandIwillgobacktobeingoldfriends.We’lljustforgetaboutthatafternoon.’
Nadineplacedagentlehandonhisarm.‘DearJefferson,thankyou.I’mgoingtofindLennoxnow.’
Sheturnedandlefthim.MrCopewentonalone.
II
NadinefoundLennoxsittingatthetopoftheGraeco-Romantheatre.Hewasinsuchabrownstudythathehardlynoticedhertillshesankbreathlessathisside.‘Lennox.’
‘Nadine.’Hehalfturned.
Shesaid:‘Wehaven’tbeenabletotalkuntilnow.Butyouknow,don’tyou,thatIamnotleavingyou?’
Hesaidgravely:‘Didyoueverreallymeanto,Nadine?’
Shenodded.‘Yes.Yousee,itseemedtobetheonlypossiblethinglefttodo.Ihoped—Ihopedthatyouwouldcomeafterme.PoorJefferson,howmeanIhavebeentohim.’
Lennoxgaveasuddencurtlaugh.
‘No,youhaven’t.AnyonewhoisasunselfishasCopeoughttobegivenfullscopeforhisnobility!Andyouwereright,youknow,Nadine.Whenyoutoldmethatyouweregoingawaywithhimyougavemetheshockofmylife!Youknow,honestly,IthinkImusthavebeengoingqueerorsomethinglately.Whythehelldidn’tIsnapmyfingersinMother’sfaceandgooffwithyouwhenyouwantedmeto?’
Shesaidgently:‘Youcouldn’t,mydear,youcouldn’t.’
Lennoxsaidmusingly:‘Motherwasadamnedqueercharacter…Ibelieveshe’dgotusallhalfhypnotized.’
‘Shehad.’
Lennoxmusedaminuteortwolonger.Thenhesaid:‘Whenyoutoldmethatafternoon—itwasjustlikebeinghitacrackonthehead!Iwalkedbackhalfdazed,andthen,suddenlyIsawwhatadamnedfoolI’dbeen!IrealizedthattherewasonlyonethingtobedoneifIdidn’twanttoloseyou.’
Hefeltherstiffen.Histonebecamegrimmer.
‘Iwentand—’
‘Don’t…’
Hegaveheraquickglance.
‘Iwentand—arguedwithher.’Hespokewithacompletechangeoftone—carefulandrathertoneless.‘ItoldherthatIgottochoosebetweenherandyou—andthatIchoseyou.’
Therewasapause.
Herepeated,inatoneofcuriousself-approval:
‘Yes,that’swhatIsaidtoher.’
Chapter14
Poirotmettwopeopleonhiswayhome.ThefirstwasMrJeffersonCope.
‘M.HerculePoirot?Myname’sJeffersonCope.’
Thetwomenshookhandsceremoniously.
Then,fallingintostepbesidePoirot,MrCopeexplained:‘It’sjustgotroundtomethatyou’remakingakindofroutineinquiryintothedeathofmyoldfriendMrsBoynton.Thatcertainlywasashockingbusiness.Ofcourse,mindyou,theoldladyoughtnevertohaveundertakensuchafatiguingjourney.Butshewasheadstrong,M.Poirot.Herfamilycoulddonothingwithher.Shewasbywayofbeingahouseholdtyrant—hadhadherownwaytoolong,Iguess.Itcertainlyistruewhatshesaidwent.Yes,sir,thatcertainlywastrue.’
Therewasamomentarypause.
‘I’djustliketotellyou,M.Poirot,thatI’manoldfriendoftheBoyntonfamily.Naturallythey’reallagooddealupsetoverthisbusiness;they’reatriflenervousandhighlystrung,too,youknow,soifthereareanyarrangementstobemade—necessaryformalities,arrangementsforthefuneral—transportofthebodytoJerusalem,why,I’lltakeasmuchtroubleasIcanofftheirhands.Justcalluponmeforanythingthatneedsdoing.’
‘Iamsurethefamilywillappreciateyouroffer,’saidPoirot.Headded,‘Youare,Ithink,aspecialfriendofyoungMrsBoynton’s.’
MrJeffersonCopewentalittlepink.
‘Well,wewon’tsaymuchaboutthat,M.Poirot.IhearyouhadaninterviewwithMrsLennoxBoyntonthismorning,andshemayhavegivenyouahinthowthingswerebetweenus,butthat’sallovernow.MrsBoyntonisaveryfinewomanandshefeelsthatherfirstdutyistoherhusbandinhissadbereavement.’
Therewasapause.Poirotreceivedtheinformationbyadelicategestureofthehead.Thenhemurmured:
‘ItisthedesireofColonelCarburytohaveaclearstatementconcerningtheafternoonofMrsBoynton’sdeath.Canyougivemeanaccountofthatafternoon?’
‘Why,certainly.Afterourluncheonandabriefrestwesetoutforakindofinformaltourround.Weescaped,I’mgladtosay,withoutthatpestilentialdragoman.Thatman’sjustcrazyonthesubjectoftheJews.Idon’tthinkhe’squitesaneonthatpoint.Anyway,asIwassaying,wesetout.ItwasthenthatIhadmyinterviewwithNadine.Afterwardsshewishedtobealonewithherhusbandtodiscussmatterswithhim.Iwentoffonmyown,workinggraduallybacktowardsthecamp.Abouthalf-waythereImetthetwoEnglishladieswhohadbeenonthemorningexpedition—oneofthem’sanEnglishpeeress,Iunderstand?’
Poirotsaidthatsuchwasthecase.
‘Ah,she’safinewoman,averypowerfulintellectandverywellinformed.Theotherseemedtomeratheraweaksister—andshelookedaboutdeadwithfatigue.Thatexpeditioninthemorningwasverystrenuousforanelderlylady,especiallywhenshedoesn’tlikeheights.Well,asIwassaying,ImetthesetwoladiesandwasabletogivethemsomeinformationonthesubjectoftheNabateans.Wewentaroundabitandgotbacktothecampaboutsix.LadyWestholmeinsistedonhavingteaandIhadthepleasureofhavingacupwithher—theteawaskindofweak,butithadaninterestingflavour.Thentheboyslaidthetableforsupperandsentouttotheoldladyonlytofindthatshewassittingtheredeadinherchair.’
‘Didyounoticeherasyouwalkedhome?’
‘Ididnoticeshewasthere—itwasherusualseatintheafternoonandevening,butIdidn’tpayspecialattention.IwasjustexplainingtoLadyWestholmetheconditionsofourslump.IhadtokeepaneyeonMissPierce,too.Shewassotiredshekeptturningherankles.’
‘Thankyou,MrCope.MayIbesoindiscreetastoaskifMrsBoyntonislikelytohaveleftalargefortune?’
‘Averyconsiderableone.Thatistosay,strictlyspeaking,itwasnotherstoleave.ShehadalifeinterestinitandatherdeathitisdividedbetweenthelateElmerBoynton’schildren.Yes,theywillallbeverycomfortablyoffnow.’
‘Money,’murmuredPoirot,‘makesalotofdifference.Howmanycrimeshavebeencommittedforit?’
MrCopelookedalittlestartled.
‘Why,that’sso,Isuppose,’headmitted.
Poirotsmiledsweetlyandmurmured:‘Buttherearesomanymotivesformurder,aretherenot?Thankyou,MrCope,foryourkindco-operation.’
‘You’rewelcome,I’msure,’saidMrCope.‘DoIseeMissKingsittingupthere?IthinkI’llgoandhaveawordwithher.’
Poirotcontinuedtodescendthehill.
HemetMissPierceflutteringupit.
Shegreetedhimbreathlessly.
‘Oh,M.Poirot,I’msogladtomeetyou.I’vebeentalkingtothatveryoddgirl—theyoungestone,youknow.Shehasbeensayingthestrangestthings—aboutenemies,andsomesheikhthatwantedtokidnapherandhowshehasspiesallroundher.Really,itsoundedmostromantic!LadyWestholmesaysitisallnonsenseandthatsheoncehadared-headedkitchenmaidwhotoldliesjustlikethat,butIthinksometimesthatLadyWestholmeisratherhard.Andafterall,itmightbetrue,mightn’tit,M.Poirot?IreadsomeyearsagothatoneoftheCzar’sdaughterswasnotkilledintheRevolutioninRussia,butescapedsecretlytoAmerica.TheGrandDuchessTatiana,Ithinkitwas.Ifso,thismightbeherdaughter,mightn’tit?Shedidhintatsomethingroyal—andshehasalook,don’tyouthink?RatherSlavonic—thosecheek-bones.Howthrillingitwouldbe!’
Poirotsaidsomewhatsententiously:‘Itistruethattherearemanystrangethingsinlife.’
‘Ididn’treallytakeinthismorningwhoyouwere,’saidMissPierce,claspingherhands.‘Ofcourseyouarethatveryfamousdetective!IreadallabouttheABCcase.Itwassothrilling.IhadactuallyapostasgovernessnearDoncasteratthetime.’
Poirotmurmuredsomething.MissPiercewentonwithgrowingagitation.
‘ThatiswhyIfeltperhaps—Ihadbeenwrong—thismorning.Onemustalwaystelleverything,mustonenot?Eventhesmallestdetail,howeverunrelateditmayseem.Because,ofcourse,ifyouaremixedupinthis,poorMrsBoyntonmusthavebeenmurdered!Iseethatnow!IsupposeMrMahMood—Icannotrememberhisname—butthedragoman,Imean—IsupposehecouldnotbeaBolshevikagent?Oreven,perhaps,MissKing?Ibelievemanyquitewell-brought-upgirlsofgoodfamilybelongtothesedreadfulCommunists!That’swhyIwonderedifIoughttotellyou—because,yousee,itwasratherpeculiarwhenonecomestothinkofit.’
‘Precisely,’saidPoirot.‘Andthereforeyouwilltellmeallaboutit.’
‘Well,it’snotreallyanythingverymuch.It’sonlythatonthenextmorningafterthediscoveryIwasupratherearly—andIlookedoutofmytenttoseetheeffectofthesunriseyouknow(only,ofcourse,itwasn’tactuallysunrisebecausethesunmusthaverisenquiteanhourbefore).Butitwasearly—’
‘Yes,yes.Andyousaw?’
‘That’sthecuriousthing—atleast,atthetimeitdidn’tseemmuch.ItwasonlythatIsawthatBoyntongirlcomeoutofhertentandflingsomethingrightoutintothestream—nothinginthat,ofcourse,butitglittered—inthesunlight!Asitwentthroughtheair.Itglittered,youknow.’
‘WhichBoyntongirlwasit?’
‘IthinkitwastheonetheycallCarol—averynice-lookinggirl—solikeherbrother—reallytheymightbetwins.Or,ofcourse,itmighthavebeentheyoungestone.Thesunwasinmyeyes,soIcouldn’tquitesee.ButIdon’tthinkthehairwasred—justbronze.I’msofondofthatcoppery-bronzehair!Redhairalwayssayscarrotstome!’Shetittered.
‘Andshethrewawayabrightlyglitteringobject?’saidPoirot.
‘Yes.Andofcourse,asIsaid,Ididn’tthinkmuchofitatthetime.ButlaterIwalkedalongthestreamandMissKingwasthere.Andthereamongstalotofotherveryunsuitablethings—evenatinortwo—Isawalittlebrightmetalbox—notanexactsquare—asortoflongsquare,ifyouunderstandwhatImean—’
‘Butyes,Iunderstandperfectly.Aboutsolong?’
‘Yes,howcleverofyou!AndIthoughttomyself,“Isupposethat’swhattheBoyntongirlthrewaway,butit’sanicelittlebox.”AndjustoutofcuriosityIpickeditupandopenedit.Ithadakindofsyringeinside—thesamethingtheystuckintomyarmwhenIwasbeinginoculatedfortyphoid.AndIthoughthowcurioustothrowitawaylikethatbecauseitdidn’tseembrokenoranything.ButjustasIwaswondering,MissKingspokebehindme.Ihadn’theardhercomeup.Andshesaid,“Oh,thankyou—that’smyhypodermic.Iwascomingtolookforit.”SoIgaveittoher,andshewentbacktothecampwithit.’
MissPiercepausedandthenwentonhurriedly:
‘And,ofcourse,Iexpectthereisnothinginit—onlyitdidseemalittlecuriousthatCarolBoyntonshouldthrowawayMissKing’ssyringe.Imean,itwasodd,ifyouknowwhatImean.Though,ofcourse,Iexpectthereisaverygoodexplanation.’
Shepaused,lookingexpectantlyatPoirot.
Hisfacewasgrave.‘Thankyou,mademoiselle.Whatyouhavetoldmemaynotbeimportantinitself,butIwilltellyouthis!Itcompletesmycase!Everythingisnowclearandinorder.’
‘Oh,really?’MissPiercelookedasflushedandpleasedasachild.
Poirotescortedhertothehotel.
Backinhisownroomheaddedonelinetohismemorandum.PointNo.10.‘Ineverforget.Rememberthat.I’veneverforgottenanything…’
‘Maisoui,’hesaid.‘Itisallclearnow!’
Chapter15
‘Mypreparationsarecomplete,’saidHerculePoirot.
Withalittlesighhesteppedbackapaceortwoandcontemplatedhisarrangementofoneoftheunoccupiedhotelbedrooms.
ColonelCarbury,leaninginelegantlyagainstthebedwhichhadbeenpushedagainstthewall,smiledashepuffedathispipe.‘Funnyfeller,aren’tyou,Poirot?’hesaid.‘Liketodramatizethings.’
‘Perhaps—thatistrue,’admittedthelittledetective.‘Butindeeditisnotallself-indulgence.Ifoneplaysacomedy,onemustfirstsetthescene.’
‘Isthisacomedy?’
‘Evenifitisatragedy—there,too,thedécormustbecorrect.’
ColonelCarburylookedathimcuriously
‘Well,’hesaid,‘it’suptoyou!Idon’tknowwhatyou’redrivingat.Igather,though,thatyou’vegotsomething.’
‘Ishallhavethehonourtopresenttoyouwhatyouaskedmefor—thetruth!’
‘Doyouthinkwecangetaconviction?’
‘That,myfriend,Ididnotpromiseyou.’
‘Trueenough.MaybeI’mgladyouhaven’t.Itdepends.’
‘Myargumentsaremainlypsychological,’saidPoirot.
ColonelCarburysighed.‘Iwasafraidtheymightbe.’
‘Buttheywillconvinceyou,’Poirotreassuredhim.‘Oh,yes,theywillconvinceyou.Thetruth,Ihavealwaysthought,iscuriousandbeautiful.’
‘Sometimes,’saidColonelCarbury,‘it’sdamnedunpleasant.’
‘No,no.’Poirotwasearnest.‘Youtaketherethepersonalview.Takeinsteadtheabstract,thedetachedpointofvision.Thentheabsolutelogicofeventsisfascinatingandorderly.’
‘I’lltrytolookonitthatway,’saidtheColonel.
Poirotglancedathiswatch,alargegrotesqueturnipofawatch.
‘Butyes,indeed,itbelongedtomygrandfather.’
‘Thoughtitmighthavedone.’
‘Itistimetocommenceourproceedings,’saidPoirot.‘You,monColonel,willsitherebehindthistableinanofficialposition.’
‘Oh,allright,’Carburygrunted.‘Youdon’twantmetoputmyuniformon,doyou?’
‘No,no.IfyouwouldpermitthatIstraightenedyourtie.’Hesuitedtheactiontotheword.ColonelCarburygrinnedagain,satdowninthechairindicatedandamomentlater,unconsciously,tweakedhistieroundunderhisleftearagain.
‘Here,’continuedPoirot,slightlyalteringthepositionofthechairs,‘weplacelafamilleBoynton
‘Andoverhere,’hewenton,‘wewillplacethethreeoutsiderswhohaveadefinitestakeinthecase.DrGerard,onwhoseevidencethecasefortheprosecutiondepends.MissSarahKing,whohastwoseparateinterestsinthecase,apersonalone,andthatofmedicalexaminer.AlsoMrJeffersonCope,whowasonintimatetermswiththeBoyntonsandsomaybedefinitelydescribedasaninterestedparty.’
Hebrokeoff.‘Aha—heretheycome.’
Heopenedthedoortoadmittheparty.
LennoxBoyntonandhiswifecameinfirst.RaymondandCarolfollowed.Ginevrawalkedbyherself,afaint,farawaysmileonherlips.DrGerardandSarahKingbroughtuptherear.MrJeffersonCopewasafewminuteslateandcameinwithanapology.
WhenhehadtakenhisplacePoirotsteppedforward.
‘Ladiesandgentlemen,’hesaid,‘thisisanentirelyinformalgathering.IthascomeaboutthroughtheaccidentofmypresenceinAmman.ColonelCarburydidmethehonourtoconsultme—’
Poirotwasinterrupted.Theinterruptioncamefromwhatwasseeminglythemostunlikelyquarter.LennoxBoyntonsaidsuddenlyandpugnaciously:
‘Why?Whythedevilshouldhebringyouintothisbusiness?’
Poirotwavedahandgracefully.
‘Me,Iamoftencalledinincasesofsuddendeath.’
LennoxBoyntonsaid:‘Doctorssendforyouwheneverthereisacaseofheartfailure?’
Poirotsaidgently:‘Heartfailureissuchaverylooseandunscientificterm.’
ColonelCarburyclearedhisthroat.Itwasanofficialnoise.Hespokeinanofficialtone.
‘Besttomakeitquiteclear.Circumstanceofdeathreportedtome.Verynaturaloccurrence.Weatherunusuallyhot—journeyaverytryingoneforanelderlyladyinbadhealth.Sofarallquiteclear.ButDrGerardcametomeandvolunteeredastatement—’
HelookedinquiringlyatPoirot.Poirotnodded.
‘DrGerardisaveryeminentphysicianwithaworldwidereputation.Anystatementhemakesisboundtobereceivedwithattention.DrGerard’sstatementwasasfollows.OnthemorningafterMrsBoynton’sdeathhenotedthatacertainquantityofapowerfuldrugactingontheheartwasmissingfromhismedicalsupplies.Onthepreviousafternoonhehadnoticedthedisappearanceofahypodermicsyringe.Syringewasreturnedduringthenight.Finalpoint—therewasapunctureonthedeadwoman’swristcorrespondingtothemarkofahypodermicsyringe.’
ColonelCarburypaused.
‘InthesecircumstancesIconsideredthatitwasthedutyofthoseinauthoritytoinquireintothematter.M.HerculePoirotwasmyguestandveryconsideratelyofferedhishighlyspecializedservices.Igavehimfullauthoritytomakeanyinvestigationshepleased.Weareassembledherenowtohearhisreportonthematter.’
Therewassilence—asilencesoacutethatyoucouldhaveheard—asthesayingis—apindrop.Actuallysomeonediddropwhatwasprobablyashoeinthenextroom.Itsoundedlikeabombinthehushedatmosphere.
Poirotcastaquickglanceatthelittlegroupofthreepeopleonhisright,thenturnedhisgazetothefivepeoplehuddledtogetheronhisleft—agroupofpeoplewithfrightenedeyes.
Poirotsaidquietly:‘WhenColonelCarburymentionedthisbusinesstome,Igavehimmyopinionasanexpert.Itoldhimthatitmightnotbepossibletobringproof—suchproofaswouldbeadmissibleinacourtoflaw—butItoldhimverydefinitelythatIwassureIcouldarriveatthetruth—simplybyquestioningthepeopleconcerned.Forletmetellyouthis,myfriends,toinvestigateacrimeitisonlynecessarytolettheguiltypartyorpartiestalk—always,intheend,theytellyouwhatyouwanttoknow!’Hepaused.
‘So,inthiscase,althoughyouhaveliedtome,youhavealso,unwittingly,toldmethetruth.’
Heheardafaintsigh,thescrapeofachaironthefloortohisright,buthedidnotlookround.HecontinuedtolookattheBoyntons.
‘First,IexaminedthepossibilityofMrsBoyntonhavingdiedanaturaldeath—andIdecidedagainstit.Themissingdrug—thehypodermicsyringe—andaboveall,theattitudeofthedeadlady’sfamilyallconvincedmethatthatsuppositioncouldnotbeentertained.
‘NotonlywasMrsBoyntonkilledincoldblood—buteverymemberofherfamilywasawareofthefact!Collectivelytheyreactedasguiltyparties.
‘Buttherearedegreesinguilt.Iexaminedtheevidencecarefullywithaviewtoascertainingwhetherthemurder—yes,itwasmurder—hadbeencommittedbytheoldlady’sfamilyactingonaconcertedplan
‘Therewas,Imaysay,overwhelmingmotive.Oneandallstoodtogainbyherdeath—bothinthefinancialsense—fortheywouldatonceattainfinancialindependenceandindeedenjoyveryconsiderablewealth—andalsointhesenseofbeingfreedfromwhathadbecomeanalmostinsupportabletyranny.
‘Tocontinue:Idecided,almostimmediately,thattheconcertedtheorywouldnotholdwater.ThestoriesoftheBoyntonfamilydidnotdovetailneatlyintoeachother,andnosystemofworkablealibishadbeenarranged.Thefactsseemedmoretosuggestthatone—orpossiblytwo—membersofthefamilyhadactedincollusionandthattheotherswereaccessoriesafterthefact.Inextconsideredwhich
HerePoirotrecountedhisexperienceinJerusalem.
‘Naturally,thatpointedverystronglytoMrRaymondBoyntonastheprimemoverintheaffair.Studyingthefamily,IcametotheconclusionthatthemostlikelyrecipientofhisconfidencesthatnightwouldbehissisterCarol.Theystronglyresembledeachotherinappearanceandtemperament,andsowouldhaveakeenbondofsympathyandtheyalsopossessedthenervousrebellioustemperamentnecessaryfortheconceptionofsuchanact.Thattheirmotivewaspartlyunselfish—tofreethewholefamilyandparticularlytheiryoungersister—onlymadetheplanningofthedeedmoreplausible.’Poirotpausedaminute.
RaymondBoyntonhalfopenedhislips,thenshutthemagain.HiseyeslookedsteadilyatPoirotwithakindofdumbagonyinthem.
‘BeforeIgointothecaseagainstRaymondBoynton,IwouldliketoreadtoyoualistofsignificantpointswhichIdrewupandsubmittedtoColonelCarburythisafternoon.
Significantpoints
MrsBoyntonwastakingamixturecontainingdigitalin.
DrGerardmissedahypodermicsyringe
MrsBoyntontookdefinitepleasureinkeepingherfamilyfromenjoyingthemselveswithotherpeople.
MrsBoynton,ontheafternooninquestion,encouragedherfamilytogoawayandleaveher.
MrsBoyntonisamentalsadist.
ThedistancefromthemarqueetotheplacewhereMrsBoyntonwassittingis(roughly)twohundredyards.
MrLennoxBoyntonsaidatfirsthedidnotknowwhattimehereturnedtothecamp,butlaterheadmittedhavingsethismother’swrist-watchtotherighttime.
DrGerardandMissGenevraBoyntonoccupiedtentsnextdoortoeachother.
Athalf-pastsix,whendinnerwasready,aservantwasdispatchedtoannouncethefacttoMrsBoynton.
MrsBoynton,inJerusalem,usedthesewords:“Ineverforget.Rememberthat.I’veneverforgottenanything.”
‘AlthoughIhavenumberedthepointsseparately,occasionallytheycanbebracketedinpairs.Thatisthecase,forinstance,withthefirsttwo.MrsBoyntontakingamixturecontainingdigitalis.DrGerardhadmissedahypodermicsyringe.Thosetwopointswerethefirstthingthatstruckmeaboutthecase,andImaysaytoyouthatIfoundthemmostextraordinary—andquiteirreconcilable.YoudonotseewhatImean?Nomatter.Iwillreturntothepointpresently.LetitsufficethatInoticedthosetwopointsassomethingthathaddefinitelygottobeexplainedsatisfactorily.
‘IwillconcludenowwithmystudyofthepossibilityofRaymondBoynton’sguilt.Thefollowingarethefacts.HehadbeenheardtodiscussthepossibilityoftakingMrsBoynton’slife.Hewasinaconditionofgreatnervousexcitement.Hehad—mademoisellewillforgiveme’—hebowedapologeticallytoSarah—‘justpassedthroughamomentofgreatemotionalcrisis.Thatis,hehadfalleninlove.Theexaltationofhisfeelingsmightleadhimtoactinoneofseveralways.Hemightfeelmellowedandsoftenedtowardstheworldingeneral,includinghisstepmother—hemightfeelthecourageatlasttodefyherandshakeoffherinfluence—orhemightfindjusttheadditionalspurtoturnhiscrimefromtheorytopractice.Thatisthepsychology!Letusnowexaminethefacts
‘RaymondBoyntonleftthecampwiththeothersaboutthree-fifteen.MrsBoyntonwasthenaliveandwell.BeforelongRaymondandSarahKinghadatête-à-têteinterview.Thenhelefther.Accordingtohim,hereturnedtothecampattenminutestosix.Hewentuptohismother,exchangedafewwordswithher,thenwenttohistentandafterwardsdowntothemarquee.Hesaysthatattenminutestosix,MrsBoyntonwasaliveandwell
‘Butwenowcometoafactwhichdirectlycontradictsthatstatement.Athalf-pastsixMrsBoynton’sdeathwasdiscoveredbyaservant.MissKing,whoholdsamedicaldegree,examinedherbodyandsheswearsdefinitelythatatthattime,thoughshedidnotpayanyspecialattentiontothetimewhendeathhadoccurred,ithadmostcertainlyanddecisivelytakenplaceatleastanhour(andprobablyagooddealmore)beforesixo’clock.
‘Wehavehere,yousee,twoconflictingstatements.SettingasidethepossibilitythatMissKingmayhavemadeamistake—’
Sarahinterruptedhim.‘Idon’tmakemistakes.Thatis,ifIhad,Iwouldadmittoit.’
Hertonewashardandclear.
Poirotbowedtoherpolitely.
‘Thenthereareonlytwopossibilities—eitherMissKingorMrBoyntonislying!LetusexamineRaymondBoynton’sreasonsforsodoing.LetusassumethatMissKingwasnotmistakenandnotdeliberatelylying.What,then,wasthesequenceofevents?RaymondBoyntonreturnstothecamp,seeshismothersittingatthemouthofhercave,goesuptoherandfindssheisdead.Whatdoeshedo?Doeshecallforhelp?Doesheimmediatelyinformthecampofwhathashappened?No,hewaitsaminuteortwo,thenpassesontohistentandjoinshisfamilyinthemarqueeandsaysnothing.Suchconductisexceedinglycurious,isitnot?’
Raymondsaidinanervous,sharpvoice:
‘Itwouldbeidiotic,ofcourse.ThatoughttoshowyouthatmymotherwasaliveandwellasI’vesaid.MissKingwasflusteredandupsetandmadeamistake.’
‘Oneasksoneself,’saidPoirot,calmlysweepingon,‘whethertherecouldpossiblybeareasonforsuchconduct?Itseems,onthefaceofit,thatRaymondBoyntoncannotbeguilty,sinceattheonlytimehewasknowntoapproachhisstepmotherthatafternoonshehadalreadybeendeadforsometime.Now,supposing,therefore,thatRaymondBoyntonisinnocent,canweexplainhisconduct?
‘AndIsay,thatontheassumptionthatheisinnocent,wecan!ForIrememberthatfragmentofconversationIoverheard.“Youdosee,don’tyou,thatshe’sgottobekilled?”Hecomesbackfromhiswalkandfindsherdeadandatoncehisguiltymemoryenvisagesacertainpossibility.Theplanhasbeencarriedout—notbyhim—butbyhisfellowplanner.Toutsimplement—hesuspectsthathissister,CarolBoynton,isguilty.’
‘It’salie,’saidRaymondinalow,tremblingvoice.
Poirotwenton:‘LetusnowtakethepossibilityofCarolBoyntonbeingthemurderess.Whatistheevidenceagainsther?Shehasthesamehighly-strungtemperament—thekindoftemperamentthatmightseesuchadeedcolouredwithheroism.ItwasshetowhomRaymondBoyntonwastalkingthatnightinJerusalem.CarolBoyntonreturnedtothecampattenminuespastfive.Accordingtoherownstoryshewentupandspoketohermother.Noonesawherdoso.Thecampwasdeserted—theboyswereasleep.LadyWestholme,MissPierceandMrCopewereexploringcavesoutofsightofthecamp.TherewasnowitnessofCarolBoynton’spossibleaction.Thetimewouldagreewellenough.Thecase,then,againstCarolBoyntonisaperfectlypossibleone.’Hepaused.Carolhadraisedherhead.Hereyeslookedsteadilyandsorrowfullyintohis.
‘Thereisoneotherpoint.Thefollowingmorning,veryearly,CarolBoyntonwasseentothrowsomethingintothestream.Thereisreasontobelievethatthatsomethingwasahypodermicsyringe.’
‘Comment?’DrGerardlookedupsurprised.‘Butmyhypodermicwasreturned.Yes,yes,Ihaveitnow.’
Poirotnoddedvigorously.
‘Yes,yes.Thissecondhypodermic,itisverycurious—veryinteresting.IhavebeengiventounderstandthatthishypodermicbelongedtoMissKing.Isthatso?’
Sarahpausedforafractionofasecond
Carolspokequickly:‘ItwasnotMissKing’ssyringe,’shesaid.‘Itwasmine.’
‘Thenyouadmitthrowingitaway,mademoiselle?’
Shehesitatedjustasecond.
‘Yes,ofcourse.Whyshouldn’tI?’
‘Carol!’ItwasNadine.Sheleanedforward,hereyeswideanddistressed.‘Carol…Oh,Idon’tunderstand…’
Carolturnedandlookedather.Therewassomethinghostileinherglance.
‘There’snothingtounderstand!Ithrewawayanoldhypodermic.Inevertouchedthe—thepoison.’
Sarah’svoicebrokein:‘ItisquitetruewhatMissPiercetoldyou,M.Poirot.Itwasmysyringe.’
Poirotsmiled.
‘Itisveryconfusing,thisaffairofthehypodermic—andyet,Ithink,itcouldbeexplained.Ah,well,wehavenowtwocasesmadeout—thecasefortheinnocenceofRaymondBoynton—thecasefortheguiltofhissisterCarol.Butme,Iamscrupulouslyfair.Ilookalwaysonbothsides.LetusexaminewhatoccurredifCarolBoyntonwasinnocent.
‘Shereturnstothecamp,shegoesuptoherstepmother,andshefindsher—shallwesay—dead!Whatisthefirstthingshewillthink?ShewillsuspectthatherbrotherRaymondmayhavekilledher.Shedoesnotknowwhattodo.Soshesaysnothing.Andpresently,aboutanhourlater,RaymondBoyntonreturnsandhavingpresumablyspokentohismother,saysnothingofanythingbeingamiss.Doyounotthinkthatthenhersuspicionswouldbecomecertainties?Perhapsshegoestohistentandfindsthereahypodermicsyringe.Then,indeed,sheissure!Shetakesitquicklyandhidesit.Earlyinthemorningsheflingsitasfarawayasshecan.
‘ThereisonemoreindicationthatCarolBoyntonisinnocent.SheassuresmewhenIquestionherthatsheandherbrotherneverseriouslyintendedtocarryouttheirplan.Iaskhertoswear—andsheswearsimmediatelyandwiththeutmostsolemnitythatsheisnotguiltyofthecrime!Yousee,thatisthewaysheputsit.Shedoesnotswearthattheyarenotguilty.Sheswearsforherself,notherbrother—andthinksthatIwillnotpayspecialattentiontothepronoun.
‘Ehbien,thatisthecasefortheinnocenceofCarolBoynton.AndnowletusgobackastepandconsidernottheinnocencebutthepossibleguiltofRaymond.LetussupposethatCarolisspeakingthetruth,thatMrsBoyntonwasaliveatfive-ten.UnderwhatcircumstancescanRaymondbeguilty?Wecansupposethathekilledhismotherattenminutestosixwhenhewentuptospeaktoher.Therewereboysaboutthecamp,true,butthelightwasfading.Itmighthavebeenmanaged,butitthenfollowsthatMissKinglied.Remember,shecamebacktothecamponlyfiveminutesafterRaymond.Fromthedistanceshewouldseehimgouptohismother.Then,whenlatersheisfounddead,MissKingrealizesthatRaymondhaskilledher,andtosavehim,shelies—knowingthatDrGerardisdownwithfeverandcannotexposeherlie!’
‘Ididnotlie!’saidSarahclearly.
‘Thereisyetanotherpossibility.MissKing,asIhavesaid,reachedthecampafewminutesafterRaymond.IfRaymondBoyntonfoundhismotheralive,itmayhavebeenMissKingwhoadministeredthefatalinjection.ShebelievedthatMrsBoyntonwasfundamentallyevil.Shemayhaveseenherselfasajustexecutioner.Thatwouldequallywellexplainherlyingaboutthetimeofdeath.’
Sarahhadgrownverypale.Shespokeinalow,steadyvoice.
‘ItistruethatIspokeoftheexpediencyofonepersondyingtosavemany.ItwasthePlaceofSacrificethatsuggestedtheideatome.ButIcansweartoyouthatIneverharmedthatdisgustingoldwoman—norwouldtheideaofdoingsoeverhaveenteredmyhead!’
‘Andyet,’saidPoirotsoftly,‘oneofyoutwomustbelying.’
RaymondBoyntonshiftedinhischair.Hecriedoutimpetuously:
‘Youwin,M.Poirot!I’mtheliar.MotherwasdeadwhenIwentuptoher.It—itquiteknockedmeout.I’dbeengoing,yousee,tohaveitoutwithher.TotellherthatfromhenceforthIwasafreeagent.Iwas—allset,youunderstand.Andthereshewas—dead!Herhandallcoldandflabby.AndIthought—justwhatyousaid.IthoughtmaybeCarol—yousee,therewasthemarkonherwrist—’
Poirotsaidquickly:‘ThatistheonepointonwhichIamnotcompletelyinformed.Whatwasthemethodyoucountedonemploying?Youhadamethod—anditwasconnectedwithahypodermicsyringe.ThatmuchIknow.Ifyouwantmetobelieveyou,youmusttellmetherest.’
Raymondsaidhurriedly:‘ItwasawayIreadinabook—anEnglishdetectivestory—youstuckanemptyhypodermicsyringeintosomeoneanditdidthetrick.Itsoundedperfectlyscientific.I—Ithoughtwe’ddoitthatway.’
‘Ah,’saidPoirot.‘Icomprehend.Andyoupurchasedasyringe?’
‘No.AsamatteroffactIpinchedNadine’s.’
Poirotshotaquicklookather.‘ThesyringethatisinyourbaggageinJerusalem?’hemurmured.
Afaintcolourshowedintheyoungwoman’sface.
‘I—Iwasn’tsurewhathadbecomeofit,’shemurmured.Poirotmurmured:‘Youaresoquick-witted,madame.’
Chapter16
Therewasapause.Thenclearinghisthroatwithaslightlyaffectedsound,Poirotwenton:
‘WehavenowsolvedthemysteryofwhatImighttermthesecondhypodermic.ThatbelongedtoMrsLennoxBoynton,wastakenbyRaymondBoyntonbeforeleavingJerusalem,wastakenfromRaymondbyCarolafterthediscoveryofMrsBoynton’sdeadbody,wasthrownawaybyher,foundbyMissPierce,andclaimedbyMissKingashers.IpresumeMissKinghasitnow.’
‘Ihave,’saidSarah.
‘Sothatwhenyousaiditwasyoursjustnow,youweredoingwhatyoutoldusyoudonotdo—youtoldalie.’
Sarahsaidcalmly:‘That’sadifferentkindoflie.Itisn’t—itisn’taprofessionallie.’
Gerardnoddedappreciation.
‘Yes,itisapointthat.Iunderstandyouperfectly,mademoiselle.’
‘Thanks,’saidSarah.
AgainPoirotclearedhisthroat.
‘Letusnowreviewourtime-table.Thus:
BoyntonsandJeffersonCopeleavethecamp3.5(approx.)DrGerardandSarahKingleavethecamp3.15(approx.)LadyWestholmeandMissPierceleavethecamp4.15DrGerardreturnstocamp4.20(approx.)LennoxBoyntonreturnstocamp4.35NadineBoyntonreturnstocampandtalkstoMrsBoynton4.40NadineBoyntonleaveshermother-in-lawandgoestomarquee4.50(approx.)CarolBoyntonreturnstocamp5.10LadyWestholme,MissPierceandMrJeffersonCopereturntocamp5.40RaymondBoyntonreturnstocamp5.50SarahKingreturnstocamp6.0Bodydiscovered6.30
‘Thereis,youwillnotice,agapoftwentyminutesbetweenfour-fiftywhenNadineBoyntonlefthermother-in-lawandfive-tenwhenCarolreturned.Therefore,ifCarolisspeakingthetruth,MrsBoyntonmusthavebeenkilledinthattwentyminutes.
‘Nowwhocouldhavekilledher?AtthattimeMissKingandRaymondBoyntonweretogether.MrCope(notthathehadanyperceivablemotiveforkillingher)hasanalibi.HewaswithLadyWestholmeandMissPierce.LennoxBoyntonwaswithhiswifeinthemarquee.DrGerardwasgroaningwithfeverinhistent.Thecampisdeserted,theboysareasleep.Itisasuitablemomentforacrime!Wasthereapersonwhocouldhavecommittedit?’
HiseyeswentthoughtfullytoGinevraBoynton.
‘Therewasoneperson.GinevraBoyntonwasinhertentalltheafternoon.Thatiswhatwehavebeentold—butactuallythereisevidencethatshewasnotinhertentallthetime.GinevraBoyntonmadeaverysignificantremark.ShesaidthatDrGerardspokehernameinhisfever.AndDrGerardhasalsotoldusthathedreamtinhisfeverofGinevraBoynton’sface.Butitwasnotadream!Itwasactuallyherfacehesaw,standingtherebyhisbed.Hethoughtitaneffectoffever—butitwasthetruth.GinevrawasinDrGerard’stent.Isitnotpossiblethatshehadcometoputbackthehypodermicsyringeafterusingit?’
GinevraBoyntonraisedherheadwithitscrownofred-goldhair.HerwidebeautifuleyesstaredatPoirot.Theyweresingularlyexpressionless.Shelookedlikeavaguesaint.
‘Ah,?anon!’criedDrGerard.
‘Isit,then,sopsychologicallyimpossible?’inquiredPoirot.
TheFrenchman’seyesdropped.
NadineBoyntonsaidsharply:‘It’squiteimpossible!’
Poirot’seyescamequicklyroundtoher.
‘Impossible,madame?’
‘Yes.’Shepaused,bitherlip,thenwenton,‘Iwillnothearofsuchadisgracefulaccusationagainstmyyoungsister-in-law.We—allofus—knowittobeimpossible.’
Ginevramovedalittleonherchair.Thelinesofhermouthrelaxedintoasmile—thetouching,innocenthalf-unconscioussmileofaveryyounggirl.
Nadinesaidagain:‘Impossible.’
Hergentlefacehadhardenedintolinesofdetermination.TheeyesthatmetPoirot’swerehardandunflinching.
Poirotleanedforwardinwhatwashalfabow.
‘Madameisveryintelligent,’hesaid
Nadinesaidquietly:‘Whatdoyoumeanbythat,M.Poirot?’
‘Imean,madame,thatallalongIhaverealizedthatyouhavewhatIbelieveiscalledan“excellentheadpiece”.’
‘Youflatterme.’
‘Ithinknot.Allalongyouhaveenvisagedthesituationcalmlyandcollectively.Youhaveremainedonoutwardlygoodtermswithyourhusband’smother,deemingthatthebestthingtobedone,butinwardlyyouhavejudgedandcondemnedher.Ithinkthatsometimeagoyourealizedthattheonlychanceforyourhusband’shappinesswasforhimtomakeanefforttoleavehome—strikeoutonhisownnomatterhowdifficultandpenurioussuchalifemightbe.Youwerewillingtotakeallrisksandyouendeavouredtoinfluencehimtoexactlythatcourseofaction.Butyoufailed,madame.LennoxBoyntonhadnolongerthewilltofreedom.Hewascontenttosinkintoaconditionofapathyandmelancholy.
‘NowIhavenodoubtatall,madame,butthatyouloveyourhusband.Yourdecisiontoleavehimwasnotactuatedbyagreaterloveforanotherman.Itwas,Ithink,adesperateventureundertakenasalasthope.Awomaninyourpositioncouldonlytrythreethings.Shecouldtryappeal.That,asIhavesaid,failed.Shecouldthreatentoleaveherself.ButitispossiblethateventhatthreatwouldnothavemovedLennoxBoynton.Itwouldplungehimdeeperinmisery,butitwouldnotcausehimtorebel.Therewasonelastdesperatethrow.Youcouldgoawaywithanotherman.Jealousyandtheinstinctofpossessionisoneofthemostdeeplyrootedfundamentalinstinctsinman.Youshowedyourwisdomintryingtoreachthatdeepundergroundsavageinstinct.IfLennoxBoyntonwouldletyougowithoutanefforttoanotherman—thenhemustindeedbebeyondhumanaid,andyoumightaswellthentrytomakeanewlifeforyourselfelsewhere.
‘Butletussupposethateventhatlastdesperateremedyfailed.Yourhusbandwasterriblyupsetatyourdecision,butinspiteofthathedidnot,asyouhadhoped,reactasaprimitivemanmighthavedonewithanuprushofthepossessiveinstinct.Wasthereanythingatallthatcouldsaveyourhusbandfromhisownrapidlyfailingmentalcondition?Onlyonething.Ifhisstepmotherweretodie,itmightnotbetoolate.Hemightbeabletostartlifeanewasafreeman,buildingupinhimselfindependenceandmanlinessoncemore.’
Poirotpaused,thenrepeatedgently:‘Ifyourmother-in-lawweretodie…’
Nadine’seyeswerestillfixedonhim.Inanunmovedgentlevoiceshesaid:‘YouaresuggestingthatIhelpedtobringthateventabout,areyounot?Butyoucannotdoso,M.Poirot.AfterIhadbrokenthenewsofmyimpendingdeparturetoMrsBoynton,IwentstraighttothemarqueeandjoinedLennox.Ididnotleaveitagainuntilmymother-in-lawwasfounddead.GuiltyofherdeathImaybe,inthesensethatIgaveherashock—that,ofcourse,presupposesanaturaldeath.Butif,asyousay(thoughsofaryouhavenodirectevidenceofitandcannothaveuntilanautopsyhastakenplace)shewasdeliberatelykilled,thenIhadnoopportunityofdoingso.’
Poirotsaid:‘Youdidnotleavethemarqueeagainuntilyourmother-in-lawwasfounddead.Thatiswhatyouhavejustsaid.That,MrsBoynton,wasoneofthepointsIfoundcuriousaboutthiscase.’
‘Whatdoyoumean?’
‘Itishereonmylist.Pointnine.Athalf-pastsix,whendinnerwasready,aservantwasdispatchedtoannouncethefacttoMrsBoynton.’
Raymondsaid:‘Idon’tunderstand.’
Carolsaid:‘NomoredoI.’
Poirotlookedfromonetotheotherofthem.
‘Youdonot,eh?“Aservantwassent”—whyaservant?Wereyounot,allofyou,mostassiduousinyourattendanceontheoldladyasageneralrule?Didnotoneorotherofyoualwaysescorthertomeals?Shewasinfirm.Itwasdifficultforhertorisefromachairwithoutassistance.Alwaysoneorotherofyouwasatherelbow.Isuggestthen,thatondinnerbeingannouncedthenaturalthingwouldhavebeenforoneorotherofherfamilytogooutandhelpher.Butnotoneofyouofferedtodoso.Youallsatthere,paralyzed,watchingeachother,wondering,perhaps,whynoonewent.’
Nadinesaidsharply:‘Allthisisabsurd,M.Poirot!Wewerealltiredthatevening.Weoughttohavegone,Iadmit,but—onthatevening—wejustdidn’t!’
‘Precisely—precisely—onthatparticularevening!You,madame,didperhapsmorewaitingonherthananyoneelse.Itwasoneofthedutiesthatyouacceptedmechanically.Butthateveningyoudidnotoffertogoouttohelpherin.Why?ThatiswhatIaskedmyself—why?AndItellyoumyanswer.Becauseyouknewquitewellthatshewasdead…
‘No,no,donotinterruptme,madame.’Heraisedanimpassionedhand.‘Youwillnowlistentome—HerculePoirot!Therewerewitnessestoyourconversationwithyourmother-in-law.Witnesseswhocouldseebutcouldnothear!LadyWestholmeandMissPiercewerealongwayaway.Theysawyouapparentlyhavingaconversationwithyourmother-in-law,butwhatactualevidenceisthereofwhatoccurred?Iwillpropoundtoyouinsteadalittletheory.Youhavebrains,madame.Ifinyourquietunhurriedfashionyouhavedecidedon—shallwesaytheeliminationofyourhusband’smother—youwillcarryitoutwithintelligenceandwithduepreparation.YouhaveaccesstoDrGerard’stentduringhisabsenceonthemorningexcursion.Youarefairlysurethatyouwillfindasuitabledrug.Yournursingtraininghelpsyouthere.Youchoosedigitoxin—thesamekindofdrugthattheoldladyistaking—youalsotakehishypodermicsyringesince,toyourannoyance,yourownhasdisappeared.Youhopetoreplacethesyringebeforethedoctornoticesitsabsence.’
‘Beforeproceedingtocarryoutyourplan,youmakeonelastattempttostiryourhusbandintoaction.YoutellhimofyourintentiontomarryJeffersonCope.Thoughyourhusbandisterriblyupsethedoesnotreactasyouhadhoped—soyouareforcedtoputyourplanofmurderintoaction.YoureturntothecampexchangingapleasantnaturalwordwithLadyWestholmeandMissPierceasyoupass.Yougouptowhereyourmother-in-lawissitting.Youhavethesyringewiththedruginitready.Itiseasytoseizeherwristand—proficientasyouarewithyournurse’straining—forcehometheplunger.Itisdonebeforeyourmother-in-lawrealizeswhatyouaredoing.Fromfardownthevalleytheothersonlyseeyoutalkingtoher,bendingoverher.Thendeliberatelyyougoandfetchachairandsitthereapparentlyengagedinanamicableconversationforsomeminutes.Deathmusthavebeenalmostinstantaneous.Itisadeadwomantowhomyousittalking,butwhoshallguessthat?Thenyouputawaythechairandgodowntothemarquee,whereyoufindyourhusbandreadingabook.Andyouarecarefulnottoleavethatmarquee!MrsBoynton’sdeath,youaresure,willbeputdowntohearttrouble.(Itwill,indeed,beduetohearttrouble.)Inonlyonethinghaveyourplansgoneastray.YoucannotreturnthesyringetoDrGerard’stentbecausethedoctorisinthereshiveringwithmalaria—andalthoughyoudonotknowit,hehasalreadymissedthesyringe.That,madame,wastheflawinanotherwiseperfectcrime.’
Therewassilence—amoment’sdeadsilence—thenLennoxBoyntonsprangtohisfeet.
‘No,’heshouted.‘That’sadamnedlie.Nadinedidnothing.Shecouldn’thavedoneanything.Mymother—mymotherwasalreadydead.’
‘Ah?’Poirot’seyescamegentlyroundtohim.‘So,afterall,itwasyouwhokilledher,MrBoynton.’
Againamoment’spause—thenLennoxdroppedbackintohischairandraisedtremblinghandstohisface.
‘Yes—that’sright—Ikilledher.’
‘YoutookthedigitoxinfromDrGerard’stent?’
‘Yes.’
‘When?’
‘As—as—yousaid—inthemorning.’
‘Andthesyringe?’
‘Thesyringe?Yes.’
‘Whydidyoukillher?’
‘Canyouask?’
‘Iamasking,MrBoynton!’
‘Butyouknow—mywifewasleavingme—withCope—’
‘Yes,butyouonlylearntthatintheafternoon.’
Lennoxstaredathim.‘Ofcourse.Whenwewereout—’
‘Butyoutookthepoisonandthesyringeinthemorning—beforeyouknew?’
‘Whythehelldoyoubadgermewithquestions?’Hepausedandpassedashakinghandacrosshisforehead.‘Whatdoesitmatter,anyway?’
‘Itmattersagreatdeal.Iadviseyou,MrLennoxBoynton,totellmethetruth.’
‘Thetruth?’Lennoxstaredathim.
‘ThatiswhatIsaid—thetruth.’
‘ByGod,Iwill,’saidLennoxsuddenly.‘ButIdon’tknowwhetheryouwillbelieveme.’Hedrewadeepbreath.‘Thatafternoon,whenIleftNadine,Iwasabsolutelyalltopieces.I’dneverdreamedshe’dgofrommetosomeoneelse.Iwas—Iwasnearlymad!IfeltasthoughIwasdrunkorrecoveringfromabadillness.’
Poirotnodded.Hesaid:‘InotedLadyWestholme’sdescriptionofyourgaitwhenyoupassedher.ThatiswhyIknewyourwifewasnotspeakingthetruthwhenshesaidshetoldyouafteryouwerebothbackatthecamp.Continue,MrBoynton.’
‘IhardlyknewwhatIwasdoing…ButasIgotnear,mybrainseemedtoclear.ItflashedovermethatIhadonlymyselftoblame!I’dbeenamiserableworm!Ioughttohavedefiedmystepmotherandclearedoutyearsago.Anditcametomethatitmightn’tbetoolateevennow.Thereshewas,theolddevil,sittinguplikeanobsceneidolagainsttheredcliffs.Iwentrightuptohaveitoutwithher.ImeanttotellherjustwhatIthoughtandtoannouncethatIwasclearingout.IhadawildideaImightgetawayatoncethatevening—clearoutwithNadineandgetasfarasMa’an,anyway,thatnight.’
‘Oh,Lennox—mydear—’
Itwasalong,softsigh.
Hewenton:‘Andthen,myGod—youcouldhavestruckmedownwithatouch!Shewasdead.Sittingthere—dead…I—Ididn’tknowwhattodo—Iwasdumb—dazed—everythingIwasgoingtoshoutoutatherbottledupinsideme—turningtolead—Ican’texplain…Stone—that’swhatitfeltlike—beingturnedtostone.Ididsomethingmechanically—Ipickedupherwrist-watch—itwaslyinginherlap—andputitroundherwrist—herhorridlimpdeadwrist…’
Heshuddered.‘God—itwasawful…ThenIstumbleddown,wentintothemarquee.Ioughttohavecalledsomeone,Isuppose—butIcouldn’t.Ijustsatthere,turningthepages—waiting…’
Hestopped.
‘Youwon’tbelievethat—youcan’t.Whydidn’tIcallsomeone?TellNadine?Idon’tknow.’
DrGerardclearedhisthroat.
‘Yourstatementisperfectlyplausible,MrBoynton,’hesaid.‘Youwereinabadnervouscondition.Twosevereshocksadministeredinrapidsuccessionwouldbequiteenoughtoputyouintheconditionyouhavedescribed.ItistheWeissenhalterreaction—bestexemplifiedinthecaseofabirdthathasdasheditsheadagainstawindow.Evenafteritsrecoveryitrefrainsinstinctivelyfromallaction—givingitselftimetoreadjustthenervecentres—IdonotexpressmyselfwellinEnglish,butwhatImeanisthis:Youcouldnothaveactedanyotherway.Anydecisiveactionofanykindwouldhavebeenquiteimpossibleforyou!Youpassedthroughaperiodofmentalparalysis.’
HeturnedtoPoirot.
‘Iassureyou,myfriend,thatisso!’
‘Oh,Idonotdoubtit,’saidPoirot.‘TherewasalittlefactIhadalreadynoted—thefactthatMrBoyntonhadreplacedhismother’swrist-watch—thatwascapableoftwoexplanations—itmighthavebeenacoverfortheactualdeed,oritmighthavebeenobservedandmisinterpretedbyMrsBoynton.Shereturnedonlyfiveminutesafterherhusband.Shemustthereforehaveseenthataction.Whenshegotuptohermother-in-lawandfoundherdeadwithamarkofahypodermicsyringeonherwristshewouldnaturallyjumptotheconclusionthatherhusbandhadcommittedthedeed—thatherannouncementofherdecisiontoleavehimhadproducedareactioninhimdifferentfromthatforwhichshehadhoped.Briefly,NadineBoyntonbelievedthatshehadinspiredherhusbandtocommitmurder.’
HelookedatNadine.‘Thatisso,madame?’
Shebowedherhead.Thensheasked:
‘Didyoureallysuspectme,M.Poirot?’
‘Ithoughtyouwereapossibility,madame.’
Sheleanedforward.
‘Andnow?Whatreallyhappened,M.Poirot?’
Chapter17
‘Whatreallyhappened?’Poirotrepeated.
Hereachedbehindhim,drewforwardachairandsatdown.Hismannerwasnowfriendly—informal.
‘Itisaquestion,isitnot?Forthedigitoxinwastaken—thesyringewasmissing—therewasthemarkofahypodermiconMrsBoynton’swrist.
‘Itistruethatinafewdays’timeweshallknowdefinitely—theautopsywilltellus—whetherMrsBoyntondiedofanoverdoseofdigitalisornot.Butthenitmaybetoolate!Itwouldbebettertoreachthetruthtonight—whilethemurdererishereunderourhand.’
Nadineraisedherheadsharply.
‘Youmeanthatyoustillbelieve—thatoneofus—hereinthisroom…’Hervoicediedaway.
Poirotwasslowlynoddingtohimself.
‘Thetruth,thatiswhatIpromisedColonelCarbury.Andso,havingclearedourpathwearebackagainwhereIwasearlierintheday,writingdownalistofprintedfactsandbeingfacedstraightwaywithtwoglaringinconsistencies.’
ColonelCarburyspokeforthefirsttime.‘Suppose,now,wehearwhattheyare?’hesuggested.
Poirotsaidwithdignity:‘Iamabouttotellyou.Wewilltakeoncemorethosefirsttwofactsonmylist.MrsBoyntonwastakingamixtureofdigitalisandDrGerardmissedahypodermicsyringe.Takethosefactsandsetthemagainsttheundeniablefact(withwhichIwasimmediatelyconfronted)thattheBoyntonfamilyshowedunmistakablyguiltyreactions.Itwouldseem,therefore,certainthatoneoftheBoyntonfamilymusthavecommittedthecrime!Andyet,thosetwofactsImentionedwereallagainstthetheory.For,yousee,totakeaconcentratedsolutionofdigitalis—that,yes,itisacleveridea,becauseMrsBoyntonwasalreadytakingthedrug.Butwhatwouldamemberofherfamilydothen?Ah,mafoi!therewasonlyonesensiblethingtodo.Putthepoisonintoherbottleofmedicine!Thatiswhatanyone,anyonewithagrainofsenseandwhohadaccesstothemedicinewouldcertainlydo!
‘SoonerorlaterMrsBoyntontakesadoseanddies—andevenifthedigitalisisdiscoveredinthebottleitmaybesetdownasamistakeofthechemistwhomadeitup.Certainlynothingcanbeproved!
‘Why,then,thetheftofthehypodermicneedle?
‘Therecanbeonlytwoexplanationsofthat—eitherDrGerardoverlookedthesyringeanditwasneverstolen,orelsethesyringewastakenbecausethemurdererhadnotgotaccesstothemedicine—thatistosaythemurdererwasnotamemberoftheBoyntonfamily.Thosetwofirstfactspointoverwhelminglytoanoutsiderashavingcommittedthecrime!
‘Isawthat—butIwaspuzzled,asIsay,bythestrongevidencesofguiltdisplayedbytheBoyntonfamily.Wasitpossiblethat,inspiteofthatconsciousnessofguilt,theBoyntonfamilywereinnocent?Isetouttoprove—nottheguilt—buttheinnocenceofthosepeople!
‘Thatiswherewestandnow.Themurderwascommittedbyanoutsider—thatis,bysomeonewhowasnotsufficientlyintimatewithMrsBoyntontoenterhertentortohandlehermedicinebottle.’
Hepaused.
‘Therearethreepeopleinthisroomwhoare,technically,outsiders,butwhohaveadefiniteconnectionwiththecase.
‘MrCope,whomwewillconsiderfirst,hasbeencloselyassociatedwiththeBoyntonfamilyforsometime.Canwediscovermotiveandopportunityonhispart?Itseemsnot.MrsBoynton’sdeathhasaffectedhimadversely—sinceithasbroughtaboutthefrustrationofcertainhopes.UnlessMrCope’smotivewasanalmostfanaticaldesiretobenefitothers,wecanfindnoreasonforhisdesiringMrsBoynton’sdeath.(Unless,ofcourse,thereisamotiveaboutwhichweareentirelyinthedark.WedonotknowwhatMrCope’sdealingswiththeBoyntonfamilyhavebeen.)’
MrCopesaidwithdignity:‘Thisseemstomealittlefarfetched,M.Poirot.YoumustrememberIhadabsolutelynoopportunityforcommittingthisdeedand,inanycaseIholdverystrongviewsastothesanctityofhumanlife.’
‘Yourpositioncertainlyseemsimpeccable,’saidPoirotwithgravity.‘Inaworkoffictionyouwouldbestronglysuspectedonthataccount.’
Heturnedalittleinhischair.‘WenowcometoMissKing.MissKinghadacertainamountofmotiveandshehadthenecessarymedicalknowledgeandisapersonofcharacteranddetermination,butsincesheleftthecampbeforethree-thirtywiththeothersanddidnotreturntoituntilsixo’clock,itseemsdifficulttoseewhereshecouldhavegotheropportunity.
‘NextwemustconsiderDrGerard.Nowherewemusttakeintoaccounttheactualtimethatthemurderwascommitted.AccordingtoMrLennoxBoynton’slaststatement,hismotherwasdeadatfourthirty-five.AccordingtoLadyWestholmeandMissPierce,shewasaliveatfour-sixteenwhentheystartedontheirwalk.Thatleavesexactlytwentyminutesunaccountedfor.Now,asthesetwoladieswalkedawayfromthecamp,DrGerardpassedthemgoingtoit.ThereisnoonetosaywhatDrGerard’smovementswerewhenhereachedthecampbecausethetwoladies’backsweretowardsit.Theywerewalkingawayfromit.ThereforeitisperfectlypossibleforDrGerardtohavecommittedthecrime.Beingadoctor,hecouldeasilycounterfeittheappearanceofmalaria.Thereis,Ishouldsay,apossiblemotive.DrGerardmighthavewishedtosaveacertainpersonwhosereason(perhapsmorevitalalossthanlossoflife)wasindanger,andhemayhaveconsideredthesacrificeofanoldandworn-outlifeworthit!’
‘Yourideas,’saidDrGerard,‘arefantastic!’
Withouttakinganynotice,Poirotwenton:
‘Butifso,whydidGerardcallattentiontothepossibilityoffoulplay?Itisquitecertainthat,butforhisstatementtoColonelCarbury,MrsBoynton’sdeathwouldhavebeenputdowntonaturalcauses.ItwasDrGerardwhofirstpointedoutthepossibilityofmurder.That,myfriends,’saidPoirot,‘doesnotmakecommonsense!’
‘Doesn’tseemto,’saidColonelCarburygruffly.
‘Thereisonemorepossibility,’saidPoirot.‘MrsLennoxBoyntonjustnownegativedstronglythepossibilityofheryoungsister-in-lawbeingguilty.Theforceofherobjectionlayinthefactthatsheknewhermother-in-lawtobedeadatthetime.Butrememberthis,GinevraBoyntonwasatthecampalltheafternoon.Andtherewasamoment—amomentwhenLadyWestholmeandMissPiercewerewalkingawayfromthecampandbeforeDrGerardhadreturnedtoit…’
Ginevrastirred.Sheleanedforward,staringintoPoirot’sfacewithastrange,innocent,puzzledstare.
‘Ididit?YouthinkIdidit?’
Thensuddenly,withamovementofswiftincomparablebeauty,shewasupfromherchairandhadflungherselfacrosstheroomanddownonherkneesbesideDrGerard,clingingtohim,gazinguppassionatelyintohisface.
‘No,no,don’tletthemsayit!They’remakingthewallscloseroundmeagain!It’snottrue!Ineverdidanything!Theyaremyenemies—theywanttoputmeinprison—toshutmeup.Youmusthelpme.Youmusthelpme!’
‘There,there,mychild.’Gentlythedoctorpattedherhead.ThenheaddressedPoirot.
‘Whatyousayisnonsense—absurd.’
‘Delusionsofpersecution?’murmuredPoirot.
‘Yes;butshecouldneverhavedoneitthatway.Shewouldhavedoneit,youmustperceive,dramatically—adagger—somethingflamboyant—spectacular—neverthiscool,calmlogic!Itellyou,myfriends,itisso.Thiswasareasonedcrime—asanecrime.’
Poirotsmiled.Unexpectedlyhebowed.‘Jesuisentièrementdevotreavis,’hesaidsmoothly.
Chapter18
‘Come,’saidHerculePoirot.‘Wehavestillalittlewaytogo!DrGerardhasinvokedthepsychology.Soletusnowexaminethepsychologicalsideofthiscase.Wehavetakenthefacts,wehaveestablishedachronologicalsequenceofevents,wehaveheardtheevidence.Thereremains—thepsychology.Andthemostimportantpsychologicalevidenceconcernsthedeadwoman—itisthepsychologyofMrsBoyntonherselfthatisthemostimportantthinginthiscase.
‘Takefrommylistofspecifiedfactspointsthreeandfour.MrsBoyntontookdefinitepleasureinkeepingherfamilyfromenjoyingthemselveswithotherpeople.MrsBoynton,ontheafternooninquestion,encouragedherfamilytogoawayandleaveher
‘Thesetwofacts,theycontradicteachotherflatly!Why,onthisparticularafternoon,shouldMrsBoyntonsuddenlydisplayacompletereversalofherusualpolicy?Wasitthatshefeltasuddenwarmthoftheheart—aninstinctofbenevolence?That,itseemstomefromallIhaveheard,wasextremelyunlikely!Yettheremusthavebeenareason.Whatwasthatreason?
‘LetusexaminecloselythecharacterofMrsBoynton.Therehavebeenmanydifferentaccountsofher.Shewasatyrannicaloldmartinet—shewasamentalsadist—shewasanincarnationofevil—shewascrazy.Whichoftheseviewsisthetrueone?
‘IthinkmyselfthatSarahKingcamenearesttothetruthwheninaflashofinspirationinJerusalemshesawtheoldladyasintenselypathetic.Butnotonlypathetic—futile!
‘Letus,ifwecan,thinkourselvesintothementalconditionofMrsBoynton.Ahumancreaturebornwithimmenseambition,withayearningtodominateandtoimpressherpersonalityonotherpeople.Sheneithersublimatedthatintensecravingforpower—nordidsheseektomasterit—no,mesdamesandmessieurs—shefedit!Butintheend—listenwelltothis—intheendwhatdiditamountto?Shewasnotagreatpower!Shewasnotfearedandhatedoverawidearea!Shewasthepettytyrantofoneisolatedfamily!AndasDrGerardsaidtome—shebecameboredlikeanyotheroldladywithherhobbyandshesoughttoextendheractivitiesandtoamuseherselfbymakingherdominancemoreprecarious!Butthatledtoanentirelydifferentaspectofthecase!Bycomingabroad,sherealizedforthefirsttimehowextremelyinsignificantshewas!
‘Andnowwecomedirectlytopointnumberten—thewordsspokentoSarahKinginJerusalem.SarahKing,yousee,hadputherfingeronthetruth.ShehadrevealedfullyanduncompromisinglythepitifulfutilityofMrsBoynton’sschemeofexistence!Andnowlistenverycarefully—allofyou—towhatherexactwordstoMissKingwere.MissKinghassaidthatMrsBoyntonspoke“somalevolently—notevenlookingatme”.Andthisiswhatsheactuallysaid,“I’veneverforgottenanything—notanaction,notaname,notaface.”
‘ThosewordsmadeagreatimpressiononMissKing.Theirextraordinaryintensityandtheloudhoarsetoneinwhichtheywereuttered!SostrongwastheimpressionthattheyleftonhermindthatIthinkshequitefailedtorealizetheirextraordinarysignificance!
‘Doyouseethatsignificance,anyofyou?’Hewaitedaminute.‘Itseemsnot…But,mesamis,doesitescapeyouthatthosewordswerenotareasonableansweratalltowhatMissKinghadjustbeensaying?“I’veneverforgottenanything—notanaction,notaname,notaface.”Itdoesnotmakesense!Ifshehadsaid,“Ineverforgetimpertinence”—somethingofthatkind—butno—afaceiswhatshesaid…
‘Ah!’criedPoirot,beatinghishandstogether.‘Butitleapstotheeye!Thosewords,ostensiblyspokentoMissKing,werenotmeantforMissKingatall!TheywereaddressedtosomeoneelsestandingbehindMissKing.’
Hepaused,notingtheirexpressions.
‘Yes,itleapstotheeye!Thatwas,Itellyou,apsychologicalmomentinMrsBoynton’slife!Shehadbeenexposedtoherselfbyanintelligentyoungwoman!Shewasfullofbaffledfury—andatthatmomentsherecognizedsomeone—afacefromthepast—avictimdeliveredintoherhands!
‘Weareback,yousee,attheoutsider!AndnowthemeaningofMrsBoynton’sunexpectedamiabilityontheafternoonofherdeathisclear.Shewantedtogetridofherfamilybecause—touseavulgarity—shehadotherfishtofry!Shewantedthefieldleftclearforaninterviewwithanewvictim…
‘Now,fromthatnewstandpoint,letusconsidertheeventsoftheafternoon!TheBoyntonfamilygooff.MrsBoyntonsitsupbyhercave.NowletusconsiderverycarefullytheevidenceofLadyWestholmeandMissPierce.Thelatterisanunreliablewitness,sheisunobservantandverysuggestible.LadyWestholme,ontheotherhand,isperfectlyclearastoherfactsandmeticulouslyobservant.Bothladiesagreeononefact!AnArab,oneoftheservants,approachesMrsBoynton,angersherinsomewayandretireshastily.LadyWestholmestateddefinitelythattheservanthadfirstbeenintothetentoccupiedbyGinevraBoynton,butyoumayrememberthatDrGerard’stentwasnextdoortoGinevra’s.ItispossiblethatitwasDrGerard’stenttheArabentered…’
ColonelCarburysaid:‘D’youmeantotellmethatoneofthoseBedouinfellowsofminemurderedanoldladybystickingherwithahypodermic?Fantastic!’
‘Wait,ColonelCarbury,Ihavenotyetfinished.LetusagreethattheArabmighthavecomefromDrGerard’stentandnotGinevraBoynton’s.Whatisthenextthing?Bothladiesagreethattheycouldnotseehisfaceclearlyenoughtoidentifyhimandthattheydidnothearwhatwassaid.Thatisunderstandable.Thedistancebetweenthemarqueeandtheledgewasabouttwohundredyards.LadyWestholmegaveacleardescriptionof
Poirotleanedforward.
‘Andthat,myfriends,wasveryoddindeed!Becauseifshecouldnotseehisfaceorhearwhatwassaid,shecouldnotpossiblyhavenoticedthestateofhisbreechesandputtees!Notattwohundredyards!
‘Itwasanerror,that,yousee!Itsuggestedacuriousideatome.Whyinsistsoontheraggedbreechesanduntidyputtees?Coulditbebecausethebreecheswerenottornandtheputteeswerenon-existent?LadyWestholmeandMissPiercebothsawtheman—butfromwheretheyweresittingtheycouldnotseeeachother.ThatisshownbythefactthatLadyWestholmecametoseeifMissPiercewasawakeandfoundhersittingintheentranceofhertent.’
‘Goodlord,’saidColonelCarbury,suddenlysittingupverystraight.‘Areyousuggesting—?’
‘Iamsuggestingthat,havingascertainedjustwhatMissPierce(theonlywitnesslikelytobeawake)wasdoing,LadyWestholmereturnedtohertent,putonherridingbreeches,bootsandkhaki-colouredcoat,madeherselfanArabhead-dresswithhercheckeddusterandaskeinofknitting-woolandthat,thusattired,shewentboldlyuptoDrGerard’stent,lookedinhismedicinechest,selectedasuitabledrug,tookthehypodermic,filleditandwentboldlyuptohervictim.
‘MrsBoyntonmayhavebeendozing.LadyWestholmewasquick.Shecaughtherbythewristandinjectedthestuff.MrsBoyntonhalfcriedout—triedtorise—thensankback.The“Arab”hurriedawaywitheveryevidenceofbeingashamedandabashed.MrsBoyntonshookherstick,triedtorise,thenfellbackintoherchair.
‘FiveminuteslaterLadyWestholmerejoinsMissPierceandcommentsonthesceneshehasjustwitnessed,impressingherownversionofitontheother.Thentheygoforawalk,pausingbelowtheledgewhereLadyWestholmeshoutsuptotheoldlady.Shereceivesnoanswer.MrsBoyntonisdead—butsheremarkstoMissPierce,“Veryrudejusttosnortatuslikethat!”MissPierceacceptsthesuggestion—shehasoftenheardMrsBoyntonreceivearemarkwithasnort—shewillswearquitesincerelyifnecessarythatsheactuallyheardit.LadyWestholmehassatoncommitteesoftenenoughwithwomenofMissPierce’stypetoknowexactlyhowherowneminenceandmasterfulpersonalitycaninfluencethem.Theonlypointwhereherplanwentastraywasthereplacingofthesyringe.DrGerardreturningsosoonupsetherscheme.Shehopedhemightnothavenoticeditsabsence,ormightthinkhehadoverlookedit,andsheputitbackduringthenight.’
Hestopped.
Sarahsaid:‘Butwhy?WhyshouldLadyWestholmewanttokilloldMrsBoynton?’
‘DidyounottellmethatLadyWestholmehadbeenquitenearyouinJerusalemwhenyouspoketoMrsBoynton?ItwastoLadyWestholmethatMrsBoynton’swordswereaddressed.“I’veneverforgottenanything—notanaction,notaname,notaface.”PutthatwiththefactthatMrsBoyntonhadbeenawardressinaprisonandyoucangetaveryshrewdideaofthetruth.LordWestholmemethiswifeonavoyagebackfromAmerica.LadyWestholmebeforehermarriagehadbeenacriminalandhadservedaprisonsentence.
‘Youseetheterribledilemmashewasin?Hercareer,herambitions,hersocialposition—allatstake!Whatthecrimewasforwhichsheservedasentenceinprisonwedonotyetknow(thoughwesoonshall),butitmusthavebeenonethatwouldeffectuallyblastherpoliticalcareerifitwasmadepublic.Andrememberthis,MrsBoyntonwasnotanordinaryblackmailer.Shedidnotwantmoney.Shewantedthepleasureoftorturinghervictimforawhileandthenshewouldhaveenjoyedrevealingthetruthinthemostspectacularfashion!No,whileMrsBoyntonlived,LadyWestholmewasnotsafe.SheobeyedMrsBoynton’sinstructionstomeetheratPetra(IthoughtitstrangeallalongthatawomanwithsuchasenseofherownimportanceasLadyWestholmeshouldhavepreferredtotravelasameretourist),butinherownmindshewasdoubtlessrevolvingwaysandmeansofmurder.Shesawherchanceandcarrieditoutboldly.Sheonlymadetwoslips.Onewastosayalittletoomuch—thedescriptionofthetornbreeches—whichfirstdrewmyattentiontoher,andthewrongwayround,obeyingherinstincttodistortthetruthbymakingitmoredramatic,buttheindicationwasquitesignificantenoughforme.’
Hepaused.
‘Butweshallsoonknow.IobtainedLadyWestholme’sfingerprintstodaywithoutherbeingawareofthefact.IfthesearesenttotheprisonwhereMrsBoyntonwasonceawardress,weshallsoonknowthetruthwhentheyarecomparedwiththefiles.’
Hestopped.
Inthemomentarystillnessasharpsoundwasheard.
‘What’sthat?’askedDrGerard.
‘Soundedlikeashottome,’saidColonelCarbury,risingtohisfeetquickly.‘Inthenextroom.Who’sgotthatroom,bytheway?’
Poirotmurmured:‘Ihavealittleidea—itistheroomofLadyWestholme…’
Epilogue
ExtractfromtheEveningShout:
WeregrettoannouncethedeathofLadyWestholme,M.P.,theresultofatragicaccident.LadyWestholme,whowasfondoftravellinginout-of-the-waycountries,alwaystookasmallrevolverwithher.Shewascleaningthiswhenitwentoffaccidentallyandkilledher.Deathwasinstantaneous.ThedeepestsympathywillbefeltforLordWestholme,etc.,etc.
OnawarmJuneeveningfiveyearslaterSarahBoyntonandherhusbandsatinthestallsofaLondontheatre.TheplaywasHamlet.SarahgrippedRaymond’sarmasOphelia’swordscamefloatingoverthefootlights:
HowshouldIyourtrueloveknowFromanotherone?Byhiscocklehatandstaff,Andhissandalshoon.Heisdeadandgone,lady,Heisdeadandgone;Athisheadagrass-greenturf;Athisheelsastone.O,ho!
AlumproseinSarah’sthroat.Thatexquisitewitlessbeauty,thatlovelyunearthlysmileofonegonebeyondtroubleandgrieftoaregionwhereonlyafloatingmiragewastruth…
Sarahsaidtoherself:‘She’slovely…’
Thathaunting,liltingvoice,alwaysbeautifulintone,butnowdisciplinedandmodulatedtobetheperfectinstrument.
Sarahsaidwithdecisionasthecurtainfellattheendoftheact:‘Jinny’sagreatactress—agreat—greatactress!’
Latertheysatroundasupper-tableattheSavoy.Ginevra,smiling,remote,turnedtothebeardedmanbyherside.
‘Iwasgood,wasn’tI,Theodore?’
‘Youwerewonderful,chérie.’
Ahappysmilefloatedonherlips.
Shemurmured:‘Youalwaysbelievedinme—youalwaysknewIcoulddogreatthings—swaymultitudes…’
AtatablenotfarawaytheHamletoftheeveningwassayinggloomily:
‘Hermannerisms!Ofcoursepeoplelikeitjustatfirst—butwhatIsayis,it’snotShakespeare.Didyouseehowsheruinedmyexit?’
Nadine,sittingoppositeGinevra,said:‘HowexcitingitistobehereinLondonwithJinnyactingOpheliaandbeingsofamous!’
Ginevrasaidsoftly:‘Itwasniceofyoutocomeover.’
‘Aregularfamilyparty,’saidNadine,smilingasshelookedround.ThenshesaidtoLennox:‘Ithinkthechildrenmightgotothematinée,don’tyou?They’requiteoldenough,andtheydosowanttoseeAuntJinnyonthestage!’
Lennox,asane,happy-lookingLennoxwithhumorouseyes,liftedhisglass.
‘Tothenewly-weds,MrandMrsCope.’
JeffersonCopeandCarolacknowledgedthetoast.
‘Theunfaithfulswain!’saidCarol,laughing.‘Jeff,you’dbetterdrinktoyourfirstloveasshe’ssittingrightoppositeyou.’
Raymondsaidgaily:‘Jeff’sblushing.Hedoesn’tlikebeingremindedoftheolddays.’
Hisfacecloudedsuddenly.
Sarahtouchedhishandwithhers,andthecloudlifted.Helookedatherandgrinned.
‘Seemsjustlikeabaddream!’
Adapperfigurestoppedbytheirtable.HerculePoirot,faultlesslyandbeautifullyapparelled,hismoustachesproudlytwisted,bowedregally.
‘Mademoiselle,’hesaidtoGinevra,‘meshommages.Youweresuperb!’
Theygreetedhimaffectionately,madeaplaceforhimbesideSarah.
HebeamedroundonthemallandwhentheywerealltalkingheleanedalittlesidewaysandsaidsoftlytoSarah:
‘Ehbien,itseemsthatallmarcheswellnowwithlafamilleBoynton!’
‘Thankstoyou!’saidSarah.
‘Hebecomesveryeminent,yourhusband.Ireadtodayanexcellentreviewofhislastbook.’
‘It’sreallyrathergood—althoughIsayit!DidyouknowthatCarolandJeffersonCopehadmadeamatchofitatlast?AndLennoxandNadinehavegottwoofthenicestchildren—cute,Raymondcallsthem.AsforJinny—well,IratherthinkJinny’sagenius.’
Shelookedacrossthetableatthelovelyfaceandthered-goldcrownofhair,andthenshegaveatinystart.
Foramomentherfacewasgrave.Sheraisedherglassslowlytoherlips.
‘Youdrinkatoast,madame?’askedPoirot.
Sarahsaidslowly:
‘Ithought—suddenly—ofHer.LookingatJinny,Isaw—forthefirsttime—thelikeness.Thesamething—onlyJinnyisinlight—whereShewasindarkness…’
Andfromopposite,Ginevrasaidunexpectedly:
‘PoorMother…Shewasqueer…Now—thatwe’reallsohappy—Ifeelkindofsorryforher.Shedidn’tgetwhatshewantedoutoflife.Itmusthavebeentoughforher.’
Almostwithoutapause,hervoicequiveredsoftlyintothelinesfromCymbelinewhiletheotherslistenedspell-boundtothemusicofthem:
‘Fearnomoretheheato’thesun,Northefuriouswinter’srages;Thoutheworldlytaskhastdone,Homeartgone,andta’enthywages…’E-BookExtras
ThePoirots
EssaybyCharlesOsborne
ThePoirots
TheMysteriousAffairatStylesTheMurderontheLinksPoirotInvestigatesTheMurderofRogerAckroydTheBigFourTheMysteryoftheBlueTrainBlackCoffeePerilatEndHouseLordEdgwareDiesMurderontheOrientExpressThree-ActTragedyDeathintheCloudsTheABCMurdersMurderinMesopotamiaCardsontheTableMurderintheMewsDumbWitnessDeathontheNileAppointmentwithDeathHerculePoirot’sChristmasSadCypressOne,Two,BuckleMyShoeEvilUndertheSunFiveLittlePigsTheHollowTheLaboursofHerculesTakenattheFloodMrsMcGinty’sDeadAftertheFuneralHickoryDickoryDockDeadMan’sFollyCatAmongthePigeonsTheAdventureoftheChristmasPuddingTheClocksThirdGirlHallowe’enPartyElephantsCanRememberPoirot’sEarlyCasesCurtain:Poirot’sLastCase
1.TheMysteriousAffairatStyles(1920)
CaptainArthurHastings,invalidedintheGreatWar,isrecuperatingasaguestofJohnCavendishatStylesCourt,the‘country-place’ofJohn’sautocraticoldaunt,EmilyInglethorpe—sheofasizeablefortune,andsorecentlyremarriedtoamantwentyyearsherjunior.WhenEmily’ssuddenheartattackisfoundtobeattributabletostrychnine,Hastingsrecruitsanoldfriend,nowretired,toaidinthelocalinvestigation.Withimpeccabletiming,HerculePoirot,therenownedBelgiandetective,makeshisdramaticentranceintothepagesofcrimeliterature.
Ofnote:Writtenin1916,TheMysteriousAffairatStyleswasAgathaChristie’sfirstpublishedwork.Sixhousesrejectedthenovelbeforeitwasfinallypublished—afterpuzzlingoveritforeighteenmonthsbeforedecidingtogoahead—byTheBodleyHead.
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Almosttooingenious…veryclearlyandbrightlytold.’
2.TheMurderontheLinks(1923)
“ForGod’ssake,come!”ButbythetimeHerculePoirotcanrespondtoMonsieurRenauld’splea,themillionaireisalreadydead—stabbedintheback,andlyinginafreshlyduggraveonthegolfcourseadjoininghisestate.Thereisnolackofsuspects:hiswife,whosedaggerdidthedeed;hisembitteredson;Renauld’smistress—andeachfeelsdeservingofthedeadman’sfortune.Thepolicethinkthey’vefoundtheculprit.Poirothashisdoubts.Andthediscoveryofasecond,identicallymurderedcorpsecomplicatesmattersconsiderably.(However,onabrightnote,CaptainArthurHastingsdoesmeethisfuturewife.)
TheNewYorkTimes:‘Aremarkablygooddetectivestory…warmlyrecommended.’
LiteraryReview:‘Reallyclever.’
Sketch:‘AgathaChristieneverletsyoudown.’
3.PoirotInvestigates(1924)
Amoviestar,adiamond;amurderous‘suicide’;apharaoh’scurseuponhistomb;aprimeministerabducted…Whatlinksthesefascinatingcases?ThebrilliantdeductivepowersofHerculePoirotin…‘TheAdventureoftheWesternStar’;‘TheTragedyatMarsdonManor’;‘TheAdventureoftheCheapFlat’;‘TheMysteryoftheHunter’sLodge’;‘TheMillionDollarBondRobbery’;‘TheAdventureoftheEgyptianTomb’;‘TheJewelRobberyattheGrandMetropolitan’;‘TheKidnappedPrimeMinister’;‘TheDisappearanceofMr.Davenheim’;‘TheAdventureoftheItalianNobleman’;‘TheCaseoftheMissingWill.’
Ofnote:ThestoriescollectedherewerefirstpublishedinSketch,beginningonMarch7,1923.Sketchalsofeaturedthefirstillustrationofthefoppish,egg-headed,elaboratelymoustachioedBelgiandetective.
LiteraryReview:‘Acapitalcollection…ingeniouslyconstructedandtoldwithanengaginglightnessofstyle.’
IrishTimes:‘Instraightdetectivefictionthereisstillnoonetotouch[Christie].’
4.TheMurderofRogerAckroyd(1926)
InthequietvillageofKing’sAbbotawidow’ssuicidehasstirredsuspicion—anddreadfulgossip.Therearerumoursthatshemurderedherfirsthusband,thatshewasbeingblackmailed,andthathersecretloverwasRogerAckroyd.Then,onthevergeofdiscoveringtheblackmailer’sidentity,Ackroydhimselfismurdered.HerculePoirot,whohassettledinKing’sAbbotforsomepeaceandquietandalittlegardening,findshimselfatthecentreofthecase—andupagainstadiabolicallycleveranddeviouskiller.
Ofnote:TheMurderofRogerAckroydbrokealltherulesofdetectivefictionandmadeAgathaChristieahouseholdname.Widelyregardedashermasterpiece(thoughperhapsitmaybecalledher‘Poirotmasterpiece’sinceothertitlesinhercanon—notablyAndThenThereWereNone—aresimilarlyacclaimed),TheMurderofRogerAckroydwasthesourceofsomecontroversywhenitwaspublished.TheTimesLiterarySupplement’spraiseofthefirstPoirot,TheMysteriousAffairatStyles,‘almosttooingenious,’wasappliedbyscoresofreaderstoAckroyd,whowerenonethelessenrapturedbythenovel,andhaveremainedsooverthedecades.
Fairwarning:Therearetwothingsyoumustdoifyouknownothingofthebook:discussitwithnoone,andreaditwithallspeed.
H.R.F.Keating:‘Oneofthelandmarksofdetectiveliterature’(inhisCrime&Mystery:The100BestBooks).
JulianSymons:‘Themostbrilliantofdeceptions’(inhisBloodyMurder:FromtheDetectiveStorytotheCrimeNovel).
IrishIndependent:‘Aclassic—thebookhasworthilyearneditsfame.’
5.TheBigFour(1927)
HerculePoirotispreparingforavoyagetoSouthAmerica.Loominginthedoorwayofhisbedroomisanuninvitedguest,coatedfromheadtofootindustandmud.Theman’sgauntfaceregistersPoirotforamoment,andthenhecollapses.ThestrangerrecoverslongenoughtoidentifyPoirotbynameandmadlyandrepeatedlyscribblethefigure‘4’onapieceofpaper.Poirotcancelshistrip.Aninvestigationisinorder.Fortunately,PoirothasthefaithfulCaptainHastingsathissideasheplungesintoaconspiracyofinternationalscope—onethatwouldconsolidatepowerinthedeadlycabalknownas‘TheBigFour.’
6.TheMysteryoftheBlueTrain(1928)
LeTrainBleuisanelegant,leisurelymeansoftravel,andonecertainlyfreeofintrigue.HerculePoirotisaboard,boundfortheRiviera.AndsoisRuthKettering,theAmericanheiress.Bailingoutofadoomedmarriage,sheisenroutetoreconcilewithherformerlover.Butherprivateaffairsaremadequitepublicwhensheisfoundmurderedinherluxurycompartment—bludgeonedalmostbeyondrecognition.FansofthelaternovelMurderontheOrientExpresswillnotwanttomissthisjourneybyrail—andPoirot’seeriereenactmentofthecrime…
7.BlackCoffee(1930;1998)
SirClaudAmory’sformulaforapowerfulnewexplosivehasbeenstolen,presumablybyamemberofhislargehousehold.SirClaudassembleshissuspectsinthelibraryandlocksthedoor,instructingthemthatthewhenthelightsgoout,theformulamustbereplacedonthetable—andnoquestionswillbeasked.Butwhenthelightscomeon,SirClaud
Ofnote:BlackCoffeewasAgathaChristie’sfirstplayscript,writtenin1929.Itpremieredin1930attheEmbassyTheatreinSwissCottage,London,beforetransferringthefollowingyeartoStMartin’sintheWestEnd—atheatremadefamousbyvirtueofitsbecomingthepermanenthomeofthelongest-runningplayinhistory,AgathaChristie’sTheMousetrap.AgathaChristie’sbiographer,CharlesOsborne,who,asayoungactorin1956hadplayedDrCarelliinaTunbridgeWellsproductionofBlackCoffee,adaptedtheplayasthisnovelin1998.
AntoniaFraser,SundayTelegraph:‘Alivelyandlight-heartedreadwhichwillgivepleasuretoallthosewhohavelongwishedthattherewasjustonemoreChristietodevour.’
MathewPrichard,fromhisForewordtoBlackCoffee:‘ThisHerculePoirotmurdermystery…readslikeauthentic,vintageChristie.IfeelsureAgathawouldbeproudtohavewrittenit.’
8.PerilatEndHouse(1932)
Nickisanunusualnameforaprettyyoungwoman.AndNickBuckleyhasbeenleadinganunusuallifeoflate.First,onatreacherousCornishhillside,thebrakesonhercarfail.Then,onacoastalpath,afallingbouldermissesherbyinches.Safeinbed,sheisalmostcrushedbyapainting.UpondiscoveringabulletholeinNick’ssunhat,HerculePoirot(whohadcometoCornwallforasimpleholidaywithhisfriendCaptainHastings)decidesthatthegirlneedshisprotection.Atthesametime,hebeginstounravelthemysteryofamurderthathasn’tbeencommitted.Yet.
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Ingenious.’
9.LordEdgwareDies(1933)
PoirotwaspresentwhenthebeautifulactressJaneWilkinsonbraggedofherplanto‘getridof’herestrangedhusband.Nowthemonstrousmanisdead.ButhowcouldJanehavestabbedLordEdgwareinhislibraryatexactlythetimeshewasdiningwithfriends?Andwhatcouldhavebeenhermotive,sinceEdgwarehadfinallygrantedheradivorce?The
TheNewYorkTimes:‘Amostingeniouscrimepuzzle.’
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘ThewholecaseisatriumphofPoirot’sspecialqualities.’
NotedcrimefictioncriticJulianSymonsselectedLordEdgwareDiesasoneofAgathaChristie’sbest.
10.MurderontheOrientExpress(1934)
Justaftermidnight,asnowstormstopstheOrientExpressdeadinitstracksinthemiddleofYugoslavia.Theluxurioustrainissurprisinglyfullforthistimeofyear.Butbymorningthereisonepassengerless.A‘respectableAmericangentleman’liesdeadinhiscompartment,stabbedadozentimes,hisdoorlockedfromtheinside…HerculePoirotisalsoaboard,havingarrivedinthenickoftimetoclaimasecond-classcompartment—andthemostastoundingcaseofhisillustriouscareer.
Regardingchronology:AgathaChristieseemsnotmuchconcernedinthecourseofherbookswiththeirrelationshiptoeachother.ItiswhytheMarplesandthePoirotsmaybereadyinanyorder,really,withpleasure.However,thededicatedPoirotistmaywishtonotethatthegreatdetectiveisreturningfrom‘AlittleaffairinSyria’atthestartMurderontheOrientExpress.Itisapieceofbusinessafterthis‘littleaffair’—theinvestigationintothedeathofanarchaeologist’swife—thatisthesubjectofMurderinMesopotamia(1936).IfonewishestodelayatadlongerthepleasuresofOrientExpress,MurderinMesopotamiaoffersnobetteropportunity.
Fairwarning:Alongtheselines,itisadvisablethatonenotreadCardsontheTable(1936)priortoOrientExpress,sincePoirothimselfcasuallygivesawaytheendingtothelatternovel.
Ofnote:MurderontheOrientExpressisoneofAgathaChristie’smostfamousnovels,owingnodoubttoacombinationofitsromanticsettingandtheingeniousnessofitsplot;itsnon-exploitativereferencetothesensationalkidnappingandmurderoftheinfantsonofCharlesandAnneMorrowLindberghonlytwoyearsprior;andapopular1974filmadaptation,starringAlbertFinneyasPoirot—oneofthefewcinematicversionsofaChristieworkthatmetwiththeapproval,howevermild,oftheauthorherself.
DorothyL.Sayers,SundayTimes:‘Amurdermysteryconceivedandcarriedoutonthefinestclassicallines.’
SaturdayReviewofLiterature:‘Hardtosurpass.’
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Needitbesaid—thelittlegreycellssolveoncemoretheseeminglyinsoluble.MrsChristiemakesanimprobabletaleveryreal,andkeepsherreadersenthralledandguessingtotheend.’
11.Three-ActTragedy(1935)
Thenovelopensasatheatreprogramme,withthistellingcredit:‘IlluminationbyHERCULEPOIROT.’Lightmustbeshed,indeed,onthefatefuldinnerpartystagedbythefamousactorSirCharlesCartwrightforthirteenguests.Itwillbeaparticularlyunluckyeveningforthemild-manneredReverendStephenBabbington,whosemartiniglass,sentforchemicalanalysisafterhechokesonitscontentsanddies,revealsnotraceofpoison.Justasthereisnoapparentmotiveforhismurder.Thefirstsceneinasuccessionofcarefullystagedkillings,butwhoisthedirector?
TheNewYorkTimes:‘Makesforuncommonlygoodreading.’
12.DeathintheClouds(1935)
FromseatNo.9,HerculePoirotisalmostideallyplacedtoobservehisfellowairtravelersonthisshortflightfromParistoLondon.Overtohisrightsitsaprettyyoungwoman,clearlyinfatuatedwiththemanopposite.Ahead,inseatNo.13,istheCountessofHorbury,horriblyaddictedtococaineandnotdoingtoogoodajobofconcealingit.AcrossthegangwayinseatNo.8,awriterofdetectivefictionisbeingtroubledbyanaggressivewasp.Yes,Poirotisalmostideallyplacedtotakeitallin—exceptthatthepassengerintheseatdirectlybehindhimhasslumpedoverinthecourseoftheflight…dead.Murdered.BysomeoneinPoirot’simmediateproximity.AndPoirothimselfmustnumberamongthesuspects.
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Itwillbeaveryacutereaderwhodoesnotreceiveacompletesurpriseattheend.’
13.TheABCMurders(1936)
CaptainArthurHastingsreturnstonarratethisaccountofapersonalchallengemadeto‘MrCleverPoirot’byakillerwhoidentifieshimselfas‘ABC’andwholeavestheABCRailGuidenexttohisvictims—apparentlyintendingtoworkthroughtheEnglishcountryside(hehasstruckinAndover,Bexhill-on-Sea,andChurston)andexercisePoirotalongtheway.SerializedinLondon’sDailyExpress,TheABCMurdersbecameaculturalphenomenonasreaderswereinvitedtotrytokeepupwiththefamousBelgiandetective.Itisachallengethatremainsfreshandthrillingtothisday—andmakesTheABCMurdersoneoftheabsolutemust-readsoftheChristiecanon.
JulianSymons:‘Amasterworkofcarefullyconcealedartifice…moststunninglyoriginal.’
SundayTimes:‘ThereisnomorecunningplayerofthemurdergamethanAgathaChristie.’
14.MurderinMesopotamia(1936)
NurseAmyLeatheranhadneverfeltthelureofthe‘mysteriousEast,’butshenonethelessacceptsanassignmentatHassanieh,anancientsitedeepintheIraqidesert,tocareforthewifeofacelebratedarchaeologist.MrsLeidnerissufferingbizarrevisionsandnervousterror.‘I’mafraidofbeingkilled!’sheadmitstohernurse.Herterror,unfortunately,isanythingbutunfounded,andNurseLeatheranissoonenoughwithoutapatient.Theworld’sgreatestdetectivehappenstobeinthevicinity,however:havingconcludedanassignmentinSyria,andcuriousaboutthedigatHassanieh,HerculePoirotarrivesintimetoleadamurderinvestigationthatwilltaxevenhisremarkablepowers—andinapartoftheworldthathasseenmorethanitsshareofmisadventureandfoulplay.
TheNewYorkTimes:‘Smooth,highlyoriginal,andcompletelyabsorbing.’
15.CardsontheTable(1936)
‘Thededuction,’AgathaChristiewritesinherForewordtothisvolume,‘must…beentirelypsychological…becausewhenallissaidanddoneitisthemindofthemurdererthatisofsupremeinterest.’ThereisprobablynoneaterencapsulationofwhatmakesAgathaChristie’sworkssofresh,sofascinating,somanyyearsaftertheywerewritten.AndthisstatementappropriatelyopensthenovelthatisregardedasAgathaChristie’smostsingularlychallengingmystery—itis,infact,HerculePoirot’sownfavouritecase.
PoirotisoneofeightdinnerguestsoftheflamboyantMrShaitana.TheotherinviteesareSuperintendentBattleofScotlandYard(introducedinTheSecretofChimneys);SecretServiceagentColonelRace(whofirstappearedinTheManintheBrownSuit);MrsAriadneOliver,afamousauthorofdetectivestories(introducedinParkerPyneInvestigatesandwhowillfigureinfivemorePoirots)—andfoursuspectedmurderers.Afterdinner,therewillbeafewroundsofbridge:thefourinvestigatorsplayingatonetable;thefourmurdersuspectsatanother.MrShaitanawillsitbythefireandobserve.Thishedoes—untilheisstabbedtodeath.Theultimate‘closed-roommurdermystery’awaitstheintrepidreader.Whoisthemurderer?Andwhowillsolvethecrime?
Fairwarning:PoirotcasuallyrevealsthesolutiontoMurderontheOrientExpressinCardsontheTable
DailyMail:‘Thefinestmurderstoryofhercareer…MrsChristiehasneverbeenmoreingenious.’
16.MurderintheMews(1937)
Inthetitleworkinthiscollectionofnovellas,PoirotandInspectorJappcollaborateontheinvestigationofasuspicioussuicide.ThesupernaturalissaidtoplayinthedisappearanceoftopsecretmilitaryplansinTheIncredibleTheft—anincredibleclaim,indeed,asPoirotwillprove.ThebulletthatkillsGervaseChevenix-GoreshattersamirrorinDeadMan’sMirror—justthecluePoirotneedstosolvethecrime.And,whilebaskingonwhiteMediterraneansands,Poirotstarestroubleintheface—thebeautifulfaceofValentineChantry,nowcelebratingherfifthmarriage—inTriangleatRhodes
DailyMail:‘Allfourtalesareadmirableentertainment…MrsChristie’ssolutionsareunexpectedandsatisfying.’
17.DumbWitness(1937)
AgathaChristiewrotethismysteryfordoglovers.Shewascertainlyoneherself,dedicatingthenoveltoherownpet.CaptainArthurHastings,inhispenultimatePoirotappearance(likePoirot,Curtainwillbehislast),againtakesupnarrativeduties—alongwith,remarkably,theeponymousBob,awire-hairedterrierwho,uponcarefulinspection,declaresPoirot‘notreallyadoggyperson.’ButPoirotispresenttoinquireintothenatural-seemingdeathofBob’smistress,MissEmilyArundell.Natural-seeming,exceptthatMissEmilyhadwrittenPoirotofhersuspicionsthatamemberofherfamilywastryingtokillher:aletterPoirotreceivedtoolate—infact,twomonthstoolate—tohelp.PoirotandBobwillsniffoutthemurderernonetheless(andBobwillwinahappynewhome,withCaptainHastingswhois,mostdecidedly,a‘doggyperson’).
Fairwarning:DumbWitnessisbestreadafterTheMysteriousAffairatStyles;TheMurderofRogerAckroyd;TheMysteryoftheBlueTrain;andDeathintheClouds—sincetheidentityofthecriminalineachisrevealedinthisnovel.
GlasgowHerald:‘OneofPoirot’smostbrilliantachievements.’
18.DeathontheNile(1937)
Amongthebest-lovedofAgathaChristie’snovels,DeathontheNilefindsHerculePoirotagaintryingtoenjoyavacation—thistimeaboardtheS.S.Karnak,steamingbetweentheFirstandSecondCataractsoftheNile,withstopsatsitesofarchaeologicalsignificance.ButPoirot(who,afterall,hadattemptedtoretireyearsbefore)seemstobeperenniallyunluckyinhischoiceofholidays.NewlywedLinnetRidgewayis,inthecourseofthejourney,shotdeadinthehead,andPoirothasbeforehimaboatloadofsuspects—andausefulsidekickinColonelRaceoftheBritishSecretService.
Ofnote:TheproducersofMurderontheOrientExpressreleasedafilmversion,alsowellreceived(thoughnotbyMrsChristie,whohadpassedawaytwoyearsprior),ofDeathontheNile(1978),thistimecastingPeterUstinovasPoirot.
DailyMail(ofthenovel):‘Flawless.’
19.AppointmentwithDeath(1938)
‘“I’msosorry,”shesaid…“Yourmotherisdead,MrBoynton.”Andcuriously,asthoughfromagreatdistance,shewatchedthefacesoffivepeopletowhomthatannouncementmeantfreedom…’
WehavereturnedtotheMiddleEastwithHerculePoirot,onourmostcolourfultouryet:totheDomeoftheRock,theJudeandesert,theDeadSea,andtoPetra,‘therose-redcity,’thatancientplaceofheart-stoppingbeauty—butalsoofheart-stoppinghorror,forheresitsthecorpseofoldMrsBoynton,monstrousmatriarch,loathedbyoneandall.Atinypuncturemarkonherwrististheonlysignofthefatalinjectionthatkilledher.Withonlytwenty-fourhoursavailabletosolvethemystery,HerculePoirotrecallsachanceremarkhe’doverheardbackinJerusalem:‘Yousee,don’tyou,thatshe’sgottobekilled?’
TheObserver:‘TwiceasbrilliantasDeathontheNile,whichwasentirelybrilliant.’
20.HerculePoirot’sChristmas(1938)
Thisnovelwastheauthor’sgifttoherbrother-in-law,whohadcomplainedthatherstorieswere,forhim,‘tooacademic.’Whathedesiredwasa‘goodviolentmurderwithlotsofblood.’Fromtheepigraph—aquotationfromMacbeth—toitsstartlingend,Agathadeliveredagiftmadetoorder.
ItisChristmasEve.TheLeefamilyreunion,neveralivelyaffair,isinterruptedbyadeafeningcrashandahigh-pitchedscream.ThetyrannicalheadoftheLeefamily,Simeon,liesdeadinapoolofblood,histhroatslashed.HerculePoirotisspendingtheholidayswithhisfriendColonelJohnson,thechiefconstableofthelocalvillage.AttheLeehousehefindsanatmospherenotofmourningbutofmutualsuspicion.Christmaswithfamily—surviveitthisyearwithHerculePoirot.
Fairwarning:InanexchangebetweenPoirotandColonelJohnson,thesolutionofThree-ActTragedyisrevealed.
21.SadCypress(1940)
Beautiful,youngElinorCarlislestandsserenelyinthedock,accusedofthemurderofMaryGerrard,herrivalinlove.Theevidenceisdamning:onlyElinorhadthemotive,theopportunity,andthemeanstoadministerthefatalpoison.Insidethehostilecourtroom,onemanisallthatstandsbetweenElinorandthegallows—HerculePoirot.
DailyMail:‘Poirotsolvesanotherexcitingcase.’
CharlesOsborne,AgathaChristie’biographer:‘Oneofthemostreal,leastschematicofcrimenovels.Itisalsounusualinthatitemploysthedeviceofthepossiblemiscarriageofjustice…Anditworkssuperblyasamurdermystery.’
22.One,Two,BuckleMyShoe(1940)
‘Nineteen,twenty,myplate’sempty.’Butthereader’splateisfullindeed,asHerculePoirotmustfollowafamiliarnurseryrhymethroughacourseofmurder.TheadventureiskickedoffbytheapparentsuicideofaHarleyStreetdentist—whowouldalsoappeartohavemurderedoneofhispatients.HerculePoirothashimselfbeenthisdentist’spatientonthisveryday,andsuspectsfoulplay.Ashoebuckleholdsthekeytothemystery.But—five,six—willPoirotpickupsticks,and—seven,eight—laythemstraight…beforeamurderercanstrikeagain?
TheNewYorkTimes:‘Aswiftcourseofunflaggingsuspenseleadstocompletesurprise.’
23.EvilUndertheSun(1941)
‘Therewasthataboutherwhichmadeeveryotherwomanonthebeachseemfadedandinsignificant.Andwithequalinevitability,theeyeofeverymalepresentwasdrawnandrivetedonher.’
IncludingHerculePoirot’s.SheisArlenaStuart,thefamousactress,enjoying—likethefamousdetective—asummerholidayonSmugglers’Island,andshewillbecomeacommonenoughsight,sunbathingonthehotsands.Thenoneazuremorningherbeautifulbronzedbodyisdiscoveredinanisolatedcove,intheshade.Sheisdead,strangled.AndPoirot,aslucklessaseverwhenheattemptssomedown-time,willlearninthecourseofhisinvestigationthatnearlyalltheguestsofthisexclusiveresorthavesomeconnectiontoArlena.Butwhohadthecapacityandthemotivetokillher?
Ofnote:TheproducersofMurderontheOrientExpressandDeathontheNilereleasedafilmversionofEvilUndertheSunin1982;again,asinNile,theycastPeterUstinovasPoirot.
DailyTelegraph:‘ChristiehasneverwrittenanythingbetterthanEvilUndertheSun,whichisdetectivestorywritingatitsbest.’
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Christiespringshersecretlikealandmine.’
SundayTimes:‘Vivaciousandentertaining.’
24.FiveLittlePigs(1943)
Astaggeringbestselleruponitspublication—runningthrough20,000copiesofitsfirstedition—FiveLittlePigs(publishedintheU.S.asMurderinRetrospect)concernsamurdercommittedsixteenyearsearlier.CarlaCraleprevailsuponHerculePoirottoinvestigatethecrimethatsenthermother,Caroline,toprisonforlife(whereshedied).Carolinehadbeenfoundguiltyofpoisoningherestrangedhusband,Carla’sfather,AmyasCrale,thefamousartist.Poirot’sinvestigationcentersuponfivesuspects,stillliving,whomheconvincestospeaktohimandtorecordtheirownmemoriesofthelong-agoincident.
Brilliantlyintersplicingthepastandthepresent,memoryandreality,thesearchfortruthandongoingattemptstothwartit,FiveLittlePigshasnoantecedent.AlmostadecadebeforeAkiraKurosawa’sfamousfilmintroducedtheterm“Rashomoneffect”intothevernacular,AgathaChristieinvitedherreaderstoviewacrimefrommultipleperspectivesandtoconsiderthevagariesofsuchanexercise.Fortunately,however,thegreatBelgiandetectivedoesnotdealinvagaries—HerculePoirotisinthebusinessofprecision,andhewillrevealtheidentityofthetruekiller.
Observer:‘MrsChristieasusualputsaringthroughthereader’snoseandleadshimtooneofhersmashinglast-minuteshowdowns.’
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Theanswertotheriddleisbrilliant.’
25.TheHollow(1946)
AmurdertableaustagedforPoirot’s‘amusement’goeshorriblywrongatTheHollow,theestateofLadyLucyAngkatell,whohasinvitedthegreatdetectiveasherguestofhonour.DrJohnChristowwastohavebeen‘shot’byhiswife,Gerda,to‘expire’inapoolofblood-redpaint.Butwhentheshotisfired,itisdeadly,andDr.Christow’slastgaspisofanameotherthanhiswife’s:‘Henrietta.’WhatwastohavebeenapleasantcountryweekendbecomesinsteadoneofPoirot’smostbafflingcases,withtherevelationofacomplexwebofromanticattachmentsamongthedenizensofTheHollow.
Ofnote:ThephenomenonofTheMousetraptendstodistractfromAgathaChristie’sotherstagesuccesses.AnadaptationofTheHollowwasonesuchtriumph,premieringinCambridgein1951andsubsequentlyplayingforoverayearintheWestEnd.Poirot,however,isnotacharacterinthestageversion—thediminutiveBelgianwiththeoversizedpersonalitywasreplacedbyaperfectlyneutralScotlandYardinspector.InherAutobiography,MrsChristienotesthatshewishesshehadmadeasimilarswapinthenovel—soricharethecharactersinTheHollow—butPoirotfansthen(TheHollowwasatremendousbestseller)andtodaywouldhaveitnootherway.
SanFranciscoChronicle(ofthenovel):‘Agrade-Aplot—thebestChristieinyears.’
26.TheLaboursofHercules(1967)
DrBurton,FellowofAllSouls,sippingPoirot’sChateauMoutonRothschild,offersuparatherunkindremarkabouthishostthatsetsinmotionHerculePoirot’sobsessive,self-imposedcontestagainsthisclassicalnamesake:Poirotwillaccepttwelvelabours—twelvefiendishlycomplexcases—andthen,atlonglast,genuinelyunshouldertheburdensofthehero:hewillretire,andleavetheriddingofsociety’smonsters,thesweepingofitscriminalstables,toothers.ThecasesthatPoirotengagesareeverybitastaxingofhismightybrainaswerethefamouslaboursimposedbyEurystheus,KingofTiryns,ontheGreekdemi-god’sbrawn,andtheymakeforoneofthemostfascinatingbooksintheChristiecanon.(Poirotsolvesthemallbut,ofcourse,retirementremainsaselusiveasever.)
SundayExpress:‘Twelvelittlemasterpiecesofdetection.PoirotandAgathaChristieattheirinimitablebest.’
MargeryAllingham:‘IhaveoftenthoughtthatMrsChristiewasnotsomuchthebestastheonlylivingwriterofthetrueclassicdetectivestory.’
SanFranciscoChronicle:‘Afinelyshapedbook,richlydeviousandquitebrilliant.’
27.TakenattheFlood(1948)
Afewweeksaftermarryinganattractiveyoungwidow,RosaleenUnderhay,GordonCloadediesintheBlitz—leavingRosaleeninsolepossessionoftheCloadefamilyfortune.‘Illwill’isintheair,generally,withthecloseofthewar,anditpositivelycontaminatestheCloadehousehold.NowthatcontaminationthreatensPoirot—intheformofavisitfromthedeadman’ssister-in-law.‘Guided’toPoirot‘bythosebeyondtheveil,’sheinsiststhatRosaleenisnotawidowatall.Thoughheisnosubscribertothesupernatural,PoirothasindeedheardofthesomewhatnotoriousRosaleen,andheisdrawn,seeminglyinevitably,tothecasewhenhereadsofthedeathofoneEnochArden—whohadappearedmysteriouslyinthevillageofWarmsleyVale,notfarfromtheCloadefamilyseat.Poirotmustinvestigate—butdoeshegotoWarmsleyValetobringRosaleentojustice,ortospareherbeingdispatchedprematurelyto‘theotherside’?
Ofnote:TakenattheFloodmarksthedebutofSuperintendentSpence,aPoirotsidekickwhowillfeatureinthreemorePoirotnovels.
ElizabethBowen,TheTatler:‘Oneofthebest…Hergiftforblendingthecosywiththemacabrehasseldombeenmoreinevidencethanitishere.’
ManchesterEveningNews:‘Toldbriskly,vivaciously,andwithever-fertileimagination.’
NewYorkHeraldTribune:‘Don’tmissit.’
28.MrsMcGinty’sDead(1952)
‘MrsMcGinty’sdead!’/‘Howdidshedie?’/‘Downononeknee,justlikeI!’Sogoestheoldchildren’srhyme.Acrushingblowtothebackoftheheadkillsareal-lifeMrsMcGintyinhercottageinthevillageofBroadhinny—SuperintendentSpence’sjurisdiction.Thenthekillertoreupthefloorboardsinsearchof…what?Justicepresumesapittanceofcash;andjusticehascondemnedJamesBentley,herloathsomelodger,tohangforthecrime.ButSuperintendentSpenceisnotsatisfiedwiththeverdict,andappealstoPoirottoinvestigate—andsavethelifeofthewretchBentley.
Ofnote:CrimenovelistAriadneOliver,ofCardsontheTable,returnstohelpPoirotandSpencesolvethecrime.
SundayTimes:‘Sosimple,soeconomical,socompletelybaffling.Eachcluescrupulouslygiven,withsuperbsleightofhand.’
SanFranciscoChronicle:‘Theplotisperfectandthecharactersarewonderful.’
TheNewYorkTimes:‘ThebestPoirotsince…CardsontheTable.’
29.AftertheFuneral(1953)
MrsCoraLansquenetadmitsto‘alwayssayingthewrongthing’—butthislastremarkhasgottenherahatchetinthehead.‘Hewasmurdered,wasn’the?’shehadsaidafterthefuneralofherbrother,RichardAbernethie,inthepresenceofthefamilysolicitor,MrEntwhistle,andtheassembledAbernethies,whoareanxioustoknowhowRichard’ssizablefortunewillbedistributed.Entwhistle,desperatenottoloseanymoreclientstomurder,turnstoHerculePoirotforhelp.Akillercomplicatesanalreadyverycomplicatedfamily—classicChristie;purePoirot.
LiverpoolPost:‘Keepsusguessing—andguessingwrongly—totheverylastpage.’
30.HickoryDickoryDock(1955)
AnoutbreakofkleptomaniaatastudenthostelisnotnormallythesortofcrimethatarousesHerculePoirot’sinterest.Butwhenitaffectstheworkofhissecretary,MissLemon,whosesisterworksatthehostel,heagreestolookintothematter.ThematterbecomesabonafidemysterywhenPoirotperusesthebizarrelistofstolenandvandalizeditems—includingastethoscope,someoldflanneltrousers,aboxofchocolates,aslashedrucksack,andadiamondringfoundinabowlofasoup.‘Auniqueandbeautifulproblem,’thegreatdetectivedeclares.Unfortunately,this‘beautifulproblem’isnotjustoneofthieveryandmischief—forthereisakillerontheloose.
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Anevent…Thereisplentyofentertainment.’
TheNewYorkTimes:‘TheChristiefanoflongeststanding,whothinksheknowseveryoneofhertricks,willstillbesurprisedby…thetwistshere.’
31.DeadMan’sFolly(1956)
SirGeorgeandLadyStubbsdesiretohostavillagefetewithadifference—amockmurdermystery.Ingoodfaith,AriadneOliver,themuch-laudedcrimenovelist,agreestoorganisetheproceedings.Astheeventdrawsnear,however,Ariadnesensesthatsomethingsinisterisabouttohappen—andcallsuponheroldfriendHerculePoirottocomedownto
TheNewYorkTimes:‘TheinfalliblyoriginalAgathaChristiehascomeup,onceagain,withanewandhighlyingeniouspuzzle-construction.’
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Thesolutionisofthecolossalingenuitywehavebeenconditionedtoexpect.’
32.CatAmongthePigeons(1959)
ArevolutionintheMiddleEasthasadirectanddeadlyimpactuponthesummertermatMeadowbank,apicture-perfectgirls’schoolintheEnglishcountryside.PrinceAliYusuf,HereditarySheikhofRamat,whosegreatliberalizingexperiment—‘hospitals,schools,aHealthService’—iscomingtochaos,knowsthathemustprepareforthedayofhisexile.Heaskshispilotandschoolfriend,BobRawlinson,tocareforapacketofjewels.Rawlinsondoesso,hidingthemamongthepossessionsofhisniece,JenniferSutcliffe,whoisboundforMeadowbank.Rawlinsoniskilledbeforehecanrevealthehidingplace—oreventhefactthathehasemployedhisnieceasasmuggler.Butsomeoneknows,orsuspects,thatJenniferhasthejewels.AsmurderstrikesMeadowbank,onlyHerculePoirotcanrestorethepeace.
Ofnote:InthisnovelwemeetColonelPikeaway,latertoappearinthenon-PoirotsPassengertoFrankfurtandPosternofFate,andwemeetthefinancierMrRobinson,whowillalsoappearinPosternofFateandwhowillshowupatMissMarple’sBertram’sHotel
DailyExpress,ofCatAmongthePigeons:‘Immenselyenjoyable.’
TheNewYorkTimes:‘ToreadAgathaChristieatherbestistoexperiencetherarefiedpleasureofwatchingafaultlesstechnicianatwork,andsheisintopforminCatAmongthePigeons.’
33.TheAdventureoftheChristmasPudding(1960)
‘ThisbookofChristmasfaremaybedescribedas“TheChef’sSelection.”IamtheChef!’AgathaChristiewritesinherForeword,inwhichshealsorecallsthedelightfulChristmasesofheryouthatAbneyHallinthenorthofEngland.Butwhiletheauthor’sChristmaseswereuninterruptedbymurder,herfamousdetective’sarenot(seealsoHerculePoirot’sChristmas).Inthetitlenovella,Poirot—whohasbeencoercedintoattending‘anold-fashionedChristmasintheEnglishcountryside’—getsallthetrimmings,certainly,buthealsogetsawoman’scorpseinthesnow,aKurdishknifespreadingacrimsonstainacrossherwhitefurwrap.
Collectedwithin:TheAdventureoftheChristmasPudding(novella);‘TheMysteryoftheSpanishChest’;TheUnderDog(novella);‘Four-and-TwentyBlackbirds’;‘TheDream’;andaMissMarplemystery,‘Greenshaw’sFolly.’
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘ThereistheirresistiblesimplicityandbuoyancyofaChristmastreataboutitall.’
34.TheClocks(1963)
SheilaWebb,typist-for-hire,hasarrivedat19WilbrahamCrescentintheseasidetownofCrowdeantoacceptanewjob.Whatshefindsisawell-dressedcorpsesurroundedbyfiveclocks.MrsPebmarsh,theblindownerofNo.19,deniesallknowledgeofringingSheila’ssecretarialagencyandaskingforherbyname—yetsomeonedid.Nordoessheownthatmanyclocks.Andneitherwomanseemstoknowthevictim.ColinLamb,ayoungintelligencespecialistworkingacaseofhisownatthenearbynavalyard,happenstobeonthesceneatthetimeofSheilaWebb’sghastlydiscovery.LambknowsofonlyonemanwhocanproperlyinvestigateacrimeasbizarreandbafflingaswhathappenedinsideNo.19—hisfriendandmentor,HerculePoirot.
TheNewYorkTimes:‘Hereisthegrand-mannerdetectivestoryinallitsglory.’
TheBookman:‘SuperlativeChristie…extremelyingenious.’
SaturdayReview:‘Asure-fireattention-gripper—naturally.’
35.ThirdGirl(1966)
HerculePoirotisinterruptedatbreakfastbyayoungwomanwhowishestoconsultwiththegreatdetectiveaboutamurdershe‘mighthave’committed—butuponbeingintroducedtoPoirot,thegirlflees.Anddisappears.Shehassharedaflatwithtwoseeminglyordinaryyoungwomen.AsHerculePoirot—withtheaidofthecrimenovelistMrsAriadneOliver—learnsmoreaboutthismysterious‘thirdgirl,’hehearsrumoursofrevolvers,flick-knives,andblood-stains.Evenifamurdermightnothavebeencommitted,somethingisseriouslywrong,anditwilltakeallofPoirot’switsandtenacitytoestablishwhetherthe‘thirdgirl’isguilty,innocent,orinsane.
SundayTelegraph:‘First-classChristie.’
FinancialTimes:‘Mesmerisingingenuity.’
36.Hallowe’enParty(1969)
MysterywriterAriadneOliverhasbeeninvitedtoaHallowe’enpartyatWoodleighCommon.Oneoftheotherguestsisanadolescentgirlknownfortellingtalltalesofmurderandintrigue—andforbeinggenerallyunpleasant.Butwhenthegirl,Joyce,isfounddrownedinanapple-bob-bingtub,MrsOliverwondersafterthefictionalnatureofthegirl’sclaimthatshehadoncewitnessedamurder.WhichofthepartyguestswantedtokeepherquietisaquestionforAriadne’sfriendHerculePoirot.ButunmaskingakillerthisHallowe’enisnotgoingtobeeasy—forthereisn’tasoulinWoodleighwhobelievesthelatelittlestorytellerwasactuallymurdered.
DailyMirror:‘Athunderingsuccess…atriumphforHerculePoirot.’
37.ElephantsCanRemember(1972)
‘TheRavenscroftsdidn’tseemthatkindofperson.Theyseemedwellbalancedandplacid.’
Andyet,twelveyearsearlier,thehusbandhadshotthewife,andthenhimself—orperhapsitwastheotherwayaround,sincesetsofbothoftheirfingerprintswereonthegun,andthegunhadfallenbetweenthem.ThecasehauntsAriadneOliver,whohadbeenafriendofthecouple.Thefamousmysterynovelistdesiresthisreal-lifemysterysolved,andcallsuponHerculePoirottohelpherdoso.Oldsinshavelongshadows,theproverbgoes.Poirotisnowaveryoldman,buthismindisasnimbleandassharpaseverandcanstillpenetratedeepintotheshadows.ButasPoirotandMrsOliverandSuperintendentSpencereopenthelong-closedcase,astartlingdiscoveryawaitsthem.AndifmemoryservesPoirot(anditdoes!),crime—likehistory—hasatendencytorepeatitself.
TheTimes:‘Splendid.’
38.Poirot’sEarlyCases(1974)
Withhiscareerstillinitsformativeyears,welearnmanythingsabouthowPoirotcametoexercisethosefamous‘greycells’sowell.FourteenoftheeighteenstoriescollectedhereinarenarratedbyCaptainArthurHastings—includingwhatwouldappeartobetheearliestPoirotshortstory,‘TheAffairattheVictoryBall,’whichfollowssoonontheeventsofTheMysteriousAffairatStyles.TwoofthestoriesarenarratedbyPoirothimself,toHastings.One,‘TheChocolateBox,’concernsPoirot’searlydaysontheBelgianpoliceforce,andthecasethatwashisgreatestfailure:‘Mygreycells,theyfunctionednotatall,’Poirotadmits.Butotherwise,inthismostfascinatingcollection,theyfunctionbrilliantly,Poirot’sgreycells,challengingthereadertokeeppaceateverytwistandturn.
Collectedwithin:‘TheAffairattheVictoryBall’;‘TheAdventureoftheClaphamCook’;‘TheCornishMystery’;‘TheAdventureofJohnnieWaverly’;‘TheDoubleClue’;‘TheKingofClubs’;‘TheLemesurierInheritance’;‘TheLostMine’;‘ThePlymouthExpress’;‘TheChocolateBox’;‘TheSubmarinePlans’;‘TheThird-FloorFlat’;‘DoubleSin’;‘TheMarketBasingMystery’;‘Wasps’Nest’;‘TheVeiledLady’;‘ProblematSea’;‘HowDoesYourGardenGrow?’
SundayExpress:‘Superb,vintageChristie.’
39.Curtain:Poirot’sLastCase(1975)
CaptainArthurHastingsnarrates.Poirotinvestigates.‘This,Hastings,willbemylastcase,’declaresthedetectivewhohadenteredthesceneasaretireeinTheMysteriousAffairatStyles,thecaptain’s,andour,firstencounterwiththenow-legendaryBelgiandetective.Poirotpromisesthat,‘Itwillbe,too,mymostinterestingcase—andmymostinterestingcriminal.ForinXwehaveatechniquesuperb,magnificent…Xhasoperatedwithsomuchabilitythathehasdefeatedme,HerculePoirot!’Thesettingis,appropriately,StylesCourt,whichhassincebeenconvertedintoaprivatehotel.AndunderthissameroofisX,amurdererfive-timesover;amurdererbynomeansfinishedmurdering.InCurtain,Poirotwill,atlast,retire—deathcomesastheend.AndhewillbequeathtohisdearfriendHastingsanastoundingrevelation.‘TheendingofCurtainisoneofthemostsurprisingthatAgathaChristieeverdevised,’writesherbiographer,CharlesOsborne.
Ofnote:On6August1975,uponthepublicationofCurtain,TheNewYorkTimesranafront-pageobituaryofHerculePoirot,completewithphotograph.ThepassingofnootherfictionalcharacterhadbeensoacknowledgedinAmerica’s‘paperofrecord.’AgathaChristiehadalwaysintendedCurtaintobe‘Poirot’sLastCase’:HavingwrittenthenovelduringtheBlitz,shestoredit(heavilyinsured)inabankvaulttillthetimethatshe,herself,wouldretire.AgathaChristiediedon12January1976.
Time:‘First-rateChristie:fast,complicated,wrylyfunny.’
CharlesOsborneonAppointmentwithDeath
POIROT(1938)
TheMallowansspentwhatwastobetheirfinalpre-warseasonintheMiddleEastin1938,whentheymovedfromTellBrak‘becauseoftheblackmailingpressureoftheSheikhsoftheShammartribewhowereobviouslybentoninducingourworkmentostrike’,44andsetupcampmorethanahundredmilestothewest,intheBalikhValley,remotemarsh-likecountrybutaparadiseforthearchaeologist.Theretheyspentaprofitableandenjoyablefewmonths,untilatthebeginningofDecemberitwastimetopackupandreturntoEngland.
InCome,TellMeHowYouLive,AgathaChristiedescribedhermoodofnostalgicregretassheandMaxMallowanleftBeirutbyship.Shestoodlookingovertherailatthelovelycoastline‘withthemountainsoftheLebanonstandingupdimandblueagainstthesky’,breathingintheromanceofthescene.Then,suddenly,acargovesselcrossedherlineofvision,itscraneaccidentallydroppedaloadintothewater,andacrateburstopen.Thesurfaceoftheseabeforeherwasnowdottedwithlavatoryseats.‘Maxcomesupandaskswhattherowisabout.Ipoint,andexplainthatmymoodofromanticfarewelltoSyriaisnowquiteshattered!’
Twocrimenovelswerepublishedin1938:AppointmentwithDeathandHerculePoirot’sChristmas
ThesettingofAppointmentwithDeath,anovelwhichbeginsinJerusalemandmovestoPetra,the‘roseredcity,halfasoldastime’,isoneofAgathaChristie’smostexotic,andthe160characters,themajorityofwhomareonelargefamilyofAmericanstouringtheHolyLand,areamonghermostcolourful.TheBoyntonfamilyconsistsofoldMrsBoynton,fat,grotesqueandamentalsadist,herfouroffspring,andthewifeofoneofthem.ThepartyoftouristswhomaketheexcursiontoPetraalsoincludesaFrenchpsychiatrist,ayoungEnglishwomanwhoisamedicalstudent,andLadyWestholme,aformidableBritishMemberofParliamentdescribedas‘abig,masterfulwomanwitharocking-horseface’.ItalsoincludesM.HerculePoirot.Poirotistravellingforpleasure,liketheothers,buthealsohasanintroductionfromhisoldfriendColonelRacetoColonelCarbury,whoiswiththeBritishArmyinTransjordania.WhenMrsBoyntonismurderedatPetra,Poirotisaskedtohelpwiththeinvestigation.
Itwasin1938,theyearinwhichAppointmentwithDeathwaspublished,thatAgathaChristiesaidofHerculePoirotinaninterviewshegavetotheLondonDailyMail,
TherearemomentswhenIhavefelt:‘Why—why—whydidIeverinventthisdetestable,bombastic,tiresomelittlecreature?…eternallystraighteningthings,eternallyboasting,eternallytwirlinghismoustacheandtiltinghisegg-shapedhead….’Anyway,whatisanegg-shapedhead….?Iambeholdentohimfinancially…Ontheotherhand,heoweshisveryexistencetome.Inmomentsofirritation,Ipointoutthatbyafewstrokesofthepen…Icoulddestroyhimutterly.Hereplies,grandiloquently:‘ImpossibletogetridofPoirotlikethat!Heismuchtooclever.’45
Clearly,theauthorstillhadaverysoftspotforherfamousdetective,howevermuchshemayhavebecomeexasperatedwithhim,andheraffectionforthechildishlyarrogantbutnonethelessendearingPoirotisevidentthroughoutAppointmentwithDeath.Thisisanespeciallywell-plottednovel,andtheatmosphereofthevariousplacesdescribed,theDomeoftheRockinJerusalem,theJudeandesert,theDeadSea,thebrooding,timelessbeautyofPetra,isconveyedwithaneasyeconomy.
ItwasnotoftenthatAgathaChristiemodeledacharacter161onarecognizablepersoninreallife.However,youaretemptedtoidentifyLadyWestholme,theoverbearingMemberofParliamentinAppointmentwithDeathwhois‘muchrespectedandalmostuniversallydisliked’,withLadyAstor.LikeLadyAstor,LadyWestholmeisanAmericanwhomarriedintotheEnglisharistocracyandsuccessfullystoodforelectiontoParliament.TheFrenchpsychiatrist’scommentonLadyWestholme(‘thatwomanshouldbepoisoned…Itisincredibletomethatshehashadahusbandformanyyearsandthathehasnotalreadydoneso’)putsoneinmindoftheoften-quotedexchangebetweenLadyAstorandWinstonChurchill:
Ifyouweremyhusband,sir,Iwouldpoisonyourcoffee.Ifyouweremywife,madam,Iwouldswallowit.
Sevenyearsafterpublicationasanovel,AgathaChristieturnedAppointmentwithDeathintoaplay.Indoingso,shemadeanumberofsignificantchanges.ChiefamongtheseisthedeletionofPoirotfromthecastofcharacters.(Shehaddonethisoncebefore,inherdramatizationofDeathontheNile.)TheinvestigationofMrsBoynton’sdeathisnowundertakenalonebyColonelCarbery(formerly‘Carbury’,butthenAgathaChristiewasoftencarelessaboutspelling),butitisoneofthesuspects,andnotCarbery,whodiscoverswhatreallyhappened.Also,theendingoftheplayisdifferentfromthatofthenovel.Thecharacterwho,inthenovel,turnedouttobethemurderer,is,intheplay,perfectlyinnocent.Morethanthisitwouldnotbepropertoreveal,thoughitisprobablysafetoaddthattheplayhasanewcharacter:notasubstituteforPoirot,butacomicallocalpoliticiancalledAldermanHiggs(or,ashepronouncesit,‘Halderman’Iggs’).‘AhcoomfromLancashire—sameasyoudo’,hesayswithachuckletoLadyWestholme.Heis,ofcourse,ofadifferentpoliticalcolourfromtheConservativeLadyWestholme,andintendstoopposeherasanIndependentcandidateatthenextby-elections.TheroleoftheArabguideorDragomanhasalsobeenbuiltuptoprovidetheconventionalcomicreliefwhichusedtobethoughtnecessaryinplaysofthiskind.
Afterashort,pre-LondontourwhichopenedinGlasgow,162AppointmentwithDeathcametothePiccadillyTheatre,London,on31March1945.MaryClarewasgreatlylikedastheevilMrsBoynton,andotherleadingroleswereplayedbyIanLubbock(LennoxBoynton),BerylMachin(Nadine),JohnWynn(Raymond),CarlaLehmann(SarahKing),OwenReynolds(ColonelCarbery),JanetBurnell(LadyWestholme)andPercyWalsh(AldermanHiggs).TheplaywasdirectedbyTerencedeMarney.
In1988afeaturefilmversionofthestorywasreleasedbytheCannonGroup,starringPeterUstinovasPoirotforthethirdtime.AdaptedbyAnthonyShafferanddirectedbyMichaelWinner,thefilmwasshotinIsraelwithabig-namecastincludingLaurenBacall,CarrieFisher,HayleyMills,MichaelSarrazinandSirJohnGielgud.
AboutCharlesOsborne
ThisessaywasadaptedfromCharlesOsborne’sTheLifeandCrimesofAgathaChristie:ABiographicalCompaniontotheWorksofAgathaChristie(1982,rev.1999).Mr.OsbornewasborninBrisbanein1927.Heisknowninternationallyasanauthorityonopera,andhaswrittenanumberofbooksonmusicalandliterarysubjects,amongthemTheCompleteOperasofVerdi(1969);WagnerandHisWorld(1977);andW.H.Auden:TheLifeofaPoet(1980).Anaddictofcrimefictionandtheworld’sleadingauthorityonAgathaChristie,CharlesOsborneadaptedtheChristieplaysBlackCoffee(Poirot);Spider’sWeb;andTheUnexpectedGuestintonovels.HelivesinLondon.
44MaxMallowan:op.cit.
45QuotedinEarlF.Bargainnier:TheGentleArtofMurder(1980).
AboutAgathaChristie
AgathaChristieisknownthroughouttheworldastheQueenofCrime.HerbookshavesoldoverabillioncopiesinEnglishandanotherbillionin100foreignlanguages.Sheisthemostwidelypublishedauthorofalltimeandinanylanguage,outsoldonlybytheBibleandShakespeare.MrsChristieistheauthorofeightycrimenovelsandshortstorycollections,nineteenplays,andsixnovelswrittenunderthenameofMaryWestmacott.
AgathaChristie’sfirstnovel,TheMysteriousAffairatStyles,waswrittentowardstheendofWorldWarI(duringwhichsheservedintheVoluntaryAidDetachments).InitshecreatedHerculePoirot,thelittleBelgianinvestigatorwhowasdestinedtobecomethemostpopulardetectiveincrimefictionsinceSherlockHolmes.Afterhavingbeenrejectedbyanumberofhouses,TheMysteriousAffairatStyleswaseventuallypublishedbyTheBodleyHeadin1920.
In1926,nowaveragingabookayear,AgathaChristiewrotehermasterpiece.TheMurderofRogerAckroydwasthefirstofherbookstobepublishedbyWilliamCollinsandmarkedthebeginningofanauthor-publisherrelationshipthatlastedforfiftyyearsandproducedoverseventybooks.TheMurderofRogerAckroydwasalsothefirstofAgathaChristie’sworkstobedramatized—asAlibi—andtohaveasuccessfulruninLondon’sWestEnd.TheMousetrap,hermostfamousplay,openedin1952andrunstothisdayatStMartin’sTheatreintheWestEnd;itisthelongest-runningplayinhistory.
AgathaChristiewasmadeaDamein1971.Shediedin1976,sincewhenanumberofherbookshavebeenpublished:thebestsellingnovelSleepingMurderappearedin1976,followedbyAnAutobiographyandtheshortstorycollectionsMissMarple’sFinalCases;ProblematPollensaBay;andWhiletheLightLasts.In1998,BlackCoffeewasthefirstofherplaystobenovelizedbyCharlesOsborne,MrsChristie’sbiographer.
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TheAgathaChristieCollection
ChristieCrimeClassics
TheManintheBrownSuit
TheSecretofChimneys
TheSevenDialsMystery
TheMysteriousMrQuin
TheSittafordMystery
TheHoundofDeath
TheListerdaleMystery
WhyDidn’tTheyAskEvans?
ParkerPyneInvestigates
MurderIsEasy
AndThenThereWereNone
TowardsZero
DeathComesastheEnd
SparklingCyanide
CrookedHouse
TheyCametoBaghdad
DestinationUnknown
Spider’sWeb*
TheUnexpectedGuest*
OrdealbyInnocence
ThePaleHorse
EndlessNight
PassengerToFrankfurt
ProblematPollensaBay
WhiletheLightLasts
HerculePoirotInvestigates
TheMysteriousAffairatStyles
TheMurderontheLinks
PoirotInvestigates
TheMurderofRogerAckroyd
TheBigFour
TheMysteryoftheBlueTrain
BlackCoffee*
PerilatEndHouse
LordEdgwareDies
MurderontheOrientExpress
Three-ActTragedy
DeathintheClouds
TheABCMurders
MurderinMesopotamia
CardsontheTable
MurderintheMews
DumbWitness
DeathontheNile
AppointmentwithDeath
HerculePoirot’sChristmas
SadCypress
One,Two,BuckleMyShoe
EvilUndertheSun
FiveLittlePigs
TheHollow
TheLaboursofHercules
TakenattheFlood
MrsMcGinty’sDead
AftertheFuneral
HickoryDickoryDock
DeadMan’sFolly
CatAmongthePigeons
TheAdventureoftheChristmasPudding
TheClocks
ThirdGirl
Hallowe’enParty
ElephantsCanRemember
Poirot’sEarlyCases
Curtain:Poirot’sLastCase
MissMarpleMysteries
TheMurderattheVicarage
TheThirteenProblems
TheBodyintheLibrary
TheMovingFinger
AMurderIsAnnounced
TheyDoItwithMirrors
APocketFullofRye
4.50fromPaddington
TheMirrorCrack’dfromSidetoSide
ACaribbeanMystery
AtBertram’sHotel
Nemesis
SleepingMurder
MissMarple’sFinalCases
Tommy&Tuppence
TheSecretAdversary
PartnersinCrime
NorM?
BythePrickingofMyThumbs
PosternofFate
PublishedasMaryWestmacott
Giant’sBread
UnfinishedPortrait
AbsentintheSpring
TheRoseandtheYewTree
ADaughter’saDaughter
TheBurden
Memoirs
AnAutobiography