Death on the Nile_ Hercule Poirot Invest

AgathaChristie
DeathontheNile
AHerculePoirotMystery
TomyoldfriendSybilBennettwhoalsoloveswanderingabouttheworld
Author’sForeword
DeathontheNilewaswrittenaftercomingbackfromawinterinEgypt.WhenIreaditnowIfeelmyselfbackagainonthesteamerfromAssuantoWadiHalfa.Therewerequiteanumberofpassengersonboard,buttheonesinthisbooktravelledinmymindandbecameincreasinglyrealtome—inthesettingofaNilesteamer.Thebookhasalotofcharactersandaveryelaboratelyworkedoutplot.Ithinkthecentralsituationisintriguingandhasdramaticpossibilities,andthethreecharacters,Simon,Linnet,andJacqueline,seemtometoberealandalive.
Myfriend,FrancisL.Sullivan,likedthebooksomuchthathekepturgingmetoadaptitforthestage,whichintheendIdid.
Ithink,myself,thatthebookisoneofthebestofmy“foreigntravel”ones,andifdetectivestoriesare“escapeliterature”(andwhyshouldn’ttheybe!)thereadercanescapetosunnyskiesandbluewateraswellastocrimeintheconfinesofanarmchair.
Contents
Cover
TitlePage
Dedication
Author’sForeword
ChapterOne
ChapterTwo
ChapterThree
ChapterFour
ChapterFive
ChapterSix
ChapterSeven
ChapterEight
ChapterNine
ChapterTen
ChapterEleven
ChapterTwelve
ChapterThirteen
ChapterFourteen
ChapterFifteen
ChapterSixteen
ChapterSeventeen
ChapterEighteen
ChapterNineteen
ChapterTwenty
ChapterTwenty-one
ChapterTwenty-two
ChapterTwenty-three
ChapterTwenty-four
ChapterTwenty-five
ChapterTwenty-six
ChapterTwenty-seven
ChapterTwenty-eight
ChapterTwenty-nine
ChapterThirty
ChapterThirty-one
AbouttheAuthor
OtherBooksbytheAgathaChristie
Copyright
AboutthePublisher
One
I
“LinnetRidgeway!”
“That’sher!”saidMr.Burnaby,thelandlordoftheThreeCrowns.
Henudgedhiscompanion.
Thetwomenstaredwithroundbucoliceyesandslightlyopenmouths.
AbigscarletRolls-Roycehadjuststoppedinfrontofthelocalpostoffice.
Agirljumpedout,agirlwithoutahatandwearingafrockthatlooked(butonlylooked)simple.Agirlwithgoldenhairandstraightautocraticfeatures—agirlwithalovelyshape—agirlsuchaswasseldomseeninMalton-under-Wode.
Withaquickimperativestepshepassedintothepostoffice.
“That’sher!”saidMr.Burnabyagain.Andhewentoninalowawedvoice:“Millionsshe’sgot…Goingtospendthousandsontheplace.Swimmingpoolsthere’sgoingtobe,andItaliangardensandaballroomandhalfofthehousepulleddownandrebuilt….”
“She’llbringmoneyintothetown,”saidhisfriend.Hewasalean,seedy-lookingman.Histonewasenviousandgrudging.
Mr.Burnabyagreed.
“Yes,it’sagreatthingforMalton-under-Wode.Agreatthingitis.”
Mr.Burnabywascomplacentaboutit.
“Wakeusallupproper,”headded.
“BitofdifferencefromSirGeorge,”saidtheother.
“Ah,itwasthe’orsesdidforhim,”saidMr.Burnabyindulgently.“Never’adnoluck.”
“Whatdidhegetfortheplace?”
“Acoolsixtythousand,soI’veheard.”
Theleanmanwhistled.
Mr.Burnabywentontriumphantly:“Andtheysayshe’llhavespentanothersixtythousandbeforeshe’sfinished!”
“Wicked!”saidtheleanman.“Where’dshegetallthatmoneyfrom?”
“America,soI’veheard.Hermotherwastheonlydaughterofoneofthosemillionaireblokes.Quitelikethepictures,isn’tit?”
Thegirlcameoutofthepostofficeandclimbedintothecar.
Asshedroveoff,theleanmanfollowedherwithhiseyes.Hemuttered:
“Itseemsallwrongtome—herlookinglikethat.Moneyandlooks—it’stoomuch!Ifagirl’sasrichasthatshe’snorighttobeagood-lookeraswell.Andsheisagood-looker…Goteverything,thatgirlhas.Doesn’tseemfair….”
II
ExtractfromtheSocialcolumnoftheDailyBlague.
AmongthosesuppingatChezMaTanteInoticedbeautifulLinnetRidgeway.ShewaswiththeHon.JoannaSouthwood,LordWindleshamandMr.TobyBryce.MissRidgeway,aseveryoneknows,isthedaughterofMelhuishRidgeway,whomarriedAnnaHartz.Sheinheritsfromhergrandfather,LeopoldHartz,animmensefortune.ThelovelyLinnetisthesensationofthemomentanditisrumouredthatanengagementmaybeannouncedshortly.CertainlyLordWindleshamseemedveryépris!!
III
TheHon.JoannaSouthwoodsaid:
“Darling,Ithinkit’sgoingtobeallperfectlymarvellous!”
ShewassittinginLinnetRidgeway’sbedroomatWodeHall.
Fromthewindowtheeyepassedoverthegardenstoopencountrywithblueshadowsofwoodlands.
“It’sratherperfect,isn’tit?”saidLinnet.
Sheleanedherarmsonthewindowsill.Herfacewaseager,alive,dynamic.Besideher,JoannaSouthwoodseemed,somehow,alittledim—atallthinyoungwomanoftwenty-seven,withalongcleverfaceandfreakishlypluckedeyebrows.
“Andyou’vedonesomuchinthetime!Didyouhavelotsofarchitectsandthings?”
“Three.”
“Whatarearchitectslike?Idon’tthinkI’veeverseenany.”
“Theywereallright.Ifoundthemratherunpracticalsometimes.”
“Darling,yousoonputthatright!Youarethemostpracticalcreature!”
Joannapickedupastringofpearlsfromthedressingtable.
“Isupposethesearereal,aren’tthey,Linnet?”
“Ofcourse.”
“Iknowit’s‘ofcourse’toyou,mysweet,butitwouldn’tbetomostpeople.HeavilyculturedorevenWoolworth!Darling,theyreallyareincredible,soexquisitelymatched.Theymustbeworththemostfabuloussum!”
“Rathervulgar,youthink?”
“No,notatall—justpurebeauty.Whataretheyworth?”
“Aboutfiftythousand.”
“Whatalovelylotofmoney!Aren’tyouafraidofhavingthemstolen?”
“No,Ialwayswearthem—andanywaythey’reinsured.”
“Letmewearthemtilldinnertime,willyou,darling?Itwouldgivemesuchathrill.”
Linnetlaughed.
“Ofcourse,ifyoulike.”
“Youknow,Linnet,Ireallydoenvyyou.You’vesimplygoteverything.Hereyouareattwenty,yourownmistress,withanyamountofmoney,looks,superbhealth.You’veevengotbrains!Whenareyoutwenty-one?”
“NextJune.Ishallhaveagrandcoming-of-agepartyinLondon.”
“AndthenareyougoingtomarryCharlesWindlesham?Allthedreadfullittlegossipwritersaregettingsoexcitedaboutit.Andhereallyisfrightfullydevoted.”
Linnetshruggedhershoulders.
“Idon’tknow.Idon’treallywanttomarryanyoneyet.”
“Darling,howrightyouare!It’sneverquitethesameafterwards,isit?”
ThetelephoneshrilledandLinnetwenttoit.
“Yes?Yes?”
Thebutler’svoiceansweredher:
“MissdeBellefortisontheline.ShallIputherthrough?”
“Bellefort?Oh,ofcourse,yes,putherthrough.”
Aclickandavoice,aneager,soft,slightlybreathlessvoice:“Hullo,isthatMissRidgeway?Linnet!”
“Jackiedarling!Ihaven’theardanythingofyouforagesandages!”
“Iknow.It’sawful.Linnet,Iwanttoseeyouterribly.”
“Darling,can’tyoucomedownhere?Mynewtoy.I’dlovetoshowittoyou.”
“That’sjustwhatIwanttodo.”
“Well,jumpintoatrainoracar.”
“Right,Iwill.Afrightfullydilapidatedtwo-seater.Iboughtitforfifteenpounds,andsomedaysitgoesbeautifully.Butithasmoods.IfIhaven’tarrivedbyteatimeyou’llknowit’shadamood.Solong,mysweet.”
Linnetreplacedthereceiver.ShecrossedbacktoJoanna.
“That’smyoldestfriend,JacquelinedeBellefort.WeweretogetherataconventinParis.She’shadthemostterriblebadluck.HerfatherwasaFrenchCount,hermotherwasAmerican—aSoutherner.Thefatherwentoffwithsomewoman,andhermotherlostallhermoneyintheWallStreetcrash.Jackiewasleftabsolutelybroke.Idon’tknowhowshe’smanagedtogetalongthelasttwoyears.”
Joannawaspolishingherdeep-blood-colourednailswithherfriend’snailpad.Sheleantbackwithherheadononesidescrutinizingtheeffect.
“Darling,”shedrawled,“won’tthatberathertiresome?IfanymisfortuneshappentomyfriendsIalwaysdropthematonce!Itsoundsheartless,butitsavessuchalotoftroublelater!Theyalwayswanttoborrowmoneyoffyou,orelsetheystartadressmakingbusinessandyouhavetogetthemostterribleclothesfromthem.Ortheypaintlampshades,ordobatikscarves.”
“So,ifIlostallmymoney,you’ddropmetomorrow?”
“Yes,darling,Iwould.Youcan’tsayI’mnothonestaboutit!Ionlylikesuccessfulpeople.Andyou’llfindthat’strueofnearlyeverybody—onlymostpeoplewon’tadmitit.Theyjustsaythatreallytheycan’tputupwithMaryorEmilyorPamelaanymore!‘Hertroubleshavemadehersobitterandpeculiar,poordear!’”
“Howbeastlyyouare,Joanna!”
“I’monlyonthemake,likeeveryoneelse.”
“I’mnotonthemake!”
“Forobviousreasons!Youdon’thavetobesordidwhengood-looking,middle-agedAmericantrusteespayyouoveravastallowanceeveryquarter.”
“Andyou’rewrongaboutJacqueline,”saidLinnet.“She’snotasponge.I’vewantedtohelpher,butshewon’tletme.She’sasproudasthedevil.”
“What’ssheinsuchahurrytoseeyoufor?I’llbetshewantssomething!Youjustwaitandsee.”
“Shesoundedexcitedaboutsomething,”admittedLinnet.“Jackiealwaysdidgetfrightfullyworkedupoverthings.Sheoncestuckapenknifeintosomeone!”
“Darling,howthrilling!”
“Aboywasteasingadog.Jackietriedtogethimtostop.Hewouldn’t.Shepulledhimandshookhim,buthewasmuchstrongerthanshewas,andatlastshewhippedoutapenknifeandplungeditrightintohim.Therewasthemostawfulrow!”
“Ishouldthinkso.Itsoundsmostuncomfortable!”
Linnet’smaidenteredtheroom.Withamurmuredwordofapology,shetookdownadressfromthewardrobeandwentoutoftheroomwithit.
“What’sthematterwithMarie?”askedJoanna.
“She’sbeencrying.”
“Poorthing!YouknowItoldyoushewantedtomarryamanwhohasajobinEgypt.Shedidn’tknowmuchabouthim,soIthoughtI’dbettermakesurehewasallright.Itturnedoutthathehadawifealready—andthreechildren.”
“Whatalotofenemiesyoumustmake,Linnet.”
“Enemies?”Linnetlookedsurprised.
Joannanoddedandhelpedherselftoacigarette.
“Enemies,mysweet.You’resodevastatinglyefficient.Andyou’resofrightfullygoodatdoingtherightthing.”
Linnetlaughed.
“Why,Ihaven’tgotanenemyintheworld.”
IV
LordWindleshamsatunderthecedartree.HiseyesrestedonthegracefulproportionsofWodeHall.Therewasnothingtomaritsold-worldbeauty;thenewbuildingsandadditionswereoutofsightroundthecorner.Itwasafairandpeacefulsightbathedintheautumnsunshine.Nevertheless,ashegazed,itwasnolongerWodeHallthatCharlesWindleshamsaw.Instead,heseemedtoseeamoreimposingElizabethanmansion,alongsweepofpark,amorebleakbackground…Itwashisownfamilyseat,Charltonbury,andintheforegroundstoodafigure—agirl’sfigure,withbrightgoldenhairandaneagerconfidentface…LinnetasmistressofCharltonbury!
Hefeltveryhopeful.Thatrefusalofhershadnotbeenatalladefiniterefusal.Ithadbeenlittlemorethanapleafortime.Well,hecouldaffordtowaitalittle….
Howamazinglysuitablethewholethingwas!Itwascertainlyadvisablethatheshouldmarrymoney,butnotsuchamatterofnecessitythathecouldregardhimselfasforcedtoputhisownfeelingsononeside.AndhelovedLinnet.Hewouldhavewantedtomarryherevenifshehadbeenpracticallypenniless,insteadofoneoftherichestgirlsinEngland.Only,fortunately,shewasoneoftherichestgirlsinEngland….
Hismindplayedwithattractiveplansforthefuture.TheMastershipoftheRoxdaleperhaps,therestorationofthewestwing,noneedtolettheScotchshooting….
CharlesWindleshamdreamedinthesun.
V
Itwasfouro’clockwhenthedilapidatedlittletwo-seaterstoppedwithasoundofcrunchinggravel.Agirlgotoutofit—asmallslendercreaturewithamopofdarkhair.Sheranupthestepsandtuggedatthebell.
Afewminuteslatershewasbeingusheredintothelongstatelydrawingroom,andanecclesiasticalbutlerwassayingwiththepropermournfulintonation:“MissdeBellefort.”
“Linnet!”
“Jackie!”
Windleshamstoodalittleaside,watchingsympatheticallyasthisfierylittlecreatureflungherselfopen-armeduponLinnet.
“LordWindlesham—MissdeBellefort—mybestfriend.”
Aprettychild,hethought—notreallyprettybutdecidedlyattractive,withherdarkcurlyhairandherenormouseyes.Hemurmuredafewtactfulnothingsandthenmanagedunobtrusivelytoleavethetwofriendstogether.
Jacquelinepounced—inafashionthatLinnetrememberedasbeingcharacteristicofher.
“Windlesham?Windlesham?That’sthemanthepapersalwayssayyou’regoingtomarry!Areyou,Linnet?Areyou?”
Linnetmurmured:“Perhaps.”
“Darling—I’msoglad!Helooksnice.”
“Oh,don’tmakeupyourmindaboutit—Ihaven’tmadeupmyownmindyet.”
“Ofcoursenot!Queensalwaysproceedwithduedeliberationtothechoosingofaconsort!”
“Don’tberidiculous,Jackie.”
“Butyouareaqueen,Linnet!Youalwayswere.SaMajesté,lareineLinette.Linettelablonde!AndI—I’mtheQueen’sconfidante!ThetrustedMaidofHonour.”
“Whatnonsenseyoutalk,Jackiedarling!Wherehaveyoubeenallthistime?Youjustdisappear.Andyouneverwrite.”
“Ihatewritingletters.WherehaveIbeen?Oh,aboutthreepartssubmerged,darling.InJOBS,youknow.Grimjobswithgrimwomen!”
“Darling,Iwishyou’d—”
“TaketheQueen’sbounty?Well,frankly,darling,that’swhatI’mherefor.No,nottoborrowmoney.It’snotgottothatyet!ButI’vecometoaskagreatbigimportantfavour!”
“Goon.”
“Ifyou’regoingtomarrytheWindleshamman,you’llunderstand,perhaps.”
Linnetlookedpuzzledforaminute;thenherfacecleared.
“Jackie,doyoumean—?”
“Yes,darling,I’mengaged!”
“Sothat’sit!Ithoughtyouwerelookingparticularlyalivesomehow.Youalwaysdo,ofcourse,butevenmorethanusual.”
“That’sjustwhatIfeellike.”
“Tellmeallabouthim.”
“Hisname’sSimonDoyle.He’sbigandsquareandincrediblysimpleandboyishandutterlyadorable!He’spoor—gotnomoney.He’swhatyoucall‘county’allright—butveryimpoverishedcounty—ayoungersonandallthat.HispeoplecomefromDevonshire.Helovesthecountryandcountrythings.Andforthelastfiveyearshe’sbeenintheCityinastuffyoffice.Andnowthey’recuttingdownandhe’soutofajob.Linnet,IshalldieifIcan’tmarryhim!Ishalldie!Ishalldie!Ishalldie….”
“Don’tberidiculous,Jackie.”
“Ishalldie,Itellyou!I’mcrazyabouthim.He’scrazyaboutme.Wecan’tlivewithouteachother.”
“Darling,youhavegotitbadly!”
“Iknow.It’sawful,isn’tit?Thislovebusinessgetsholdofyouandyoucan’tdoanythingaboutit.”
Shepausedforaminute.Herdarkeyesdilated,lookedsuddenlytragic.Shegavealittleshiver.
“It’s—evenfrighteningsometimes!SimonandIweremadeforeachother.Ishallnevercareforanyoneelse.Andyou’vegottohelpus,Linnet.Iheardyou’dboughtthisplaceanditputanideaintomyhead.Listen,you’llhavetohavealandagent—perhapstwo.IwantyoutogivethejobtoSimon.”
“Oh!”Linnetwasstartled.
Jacquelinerushedon:“He’sgotallthatsortofthingathisfingertips.Heknowsallaboutestates—wasbroughtuponone.Andhe’sgothisbusinesstrainingtoo.Oh,Linnet,youwillgivehimajob,won’tyou,forloveofme?Ifhedoesn’tmakegood,sackhim.Buthewill.Andwecanliveinalittlehouse,andIshallseelotsofyou,andeverythinginthegardenwillbetoo,toodivine.”
Shegotup.
“Sayyouwill,Linnet.Sayyouwill.BeautifulLinnet!TallgoldenLinnet!MyownveryspecialLinnet!Sayyouwill!”
“Jackie—”
“Youwill?”
Linnetburstoutlaughing.
“RidiculousJackie!Bringalongyouryoungmanandletmehavealookathimandwe’lltalkitover.”
Jackiedartedather,kissingherexuberantly.
“DarlingLinnet—you’rearealfriend!Iknewyouwere.Youwouldn’tletmedown—ever.You’rejusttheloveliestthingintheworld.Good-bye.”
“But,Jackie,you’restaying.”
“Me?No,I’mnot.I’mgoingbacktoLondon,andtomorrowI’llcomebackandbringSimonandwe’llsettleitallup.You’lladorehim.Hereallyisapet.”
“Butcan’tyouwaitandjusthavetea?”
“No,Ican’twait,Linnet.I’mtooexcited.ImustgetbackandtellSimon.IknowI’mmad,darling,butIcan’thelpit.Marriagewillcureme,Iexpect.Italwaysseemstohaveaverysoberingeffectonpeople.”
Sheturnedatthedoor,stoodamoment,thenrushedbackforalastquickbirdlikeembrace.
“DearLinnet—there’snoonelikeyou.”
VI
M.GastonBlondin,theproprietorofthatmodishlittlerestaurantChezMaTante,wasnotamanwhodelightedtohonourmanyofhisclientèle.Therich,thebeautiful,thenotorious,andthewell-bornmightwaitinvaintobesingledoutandpaidspecialattention.OnlyintherarestcasesdidM.Blondin,withgraciouscondescension,greetaguest,accompanyhimtoaprivilegedtable,andexchangewithhimsuitableandappositeremarks.
Onthisparticularnight,M.Blondinhadexercisedhisroyalprerogativethreetimes—onceforaDuchess,onceforafamousracingpeer,andonceforalittlemanofcomicalappearancewithimmenseblackmoustaches,who,acasualonlookerwouldhavethought,couldbestownofavouronChezMaTantebyhispresencethere.
M.Blondin,however,waspositivelyfulsomeinhisattentions.Thoughclientshadbeentoldforthelasthalfhourthatatablewasnottobehad,onenowmysteriouslyappeared,placedinamostfavourableposition.M.Blondinconductedtheclienttoitwitheveryappearanceofempressement.
“Butnaturally,foryouthereisalwaysatable,MonsieurPoirot!HowIwishthatyouwouldhonourusoftener!”
HerculePoirotsmiled,rememberingthatpastincidentwhereinadeadbody,awaiter,M.Blondin,andaverylovelyladyhadplayedapart.
“Youaretooamiable,MonsieurBlondin,”hesaid.
“Andyouarealone,MonsieurPoirot?”
“Yes,Iamalone.”
“Oh,well,Julesherewillcomposeforyoualittlemealthatwillbeapoem—positivelyapoem!Women,howevercharming,havethisdisadvantage:Theydistractthemindfromfood!Youwillenjoyyourdinner,MonsieurPoirot;Ipromiseyouthat.Nowastowine—”
Atechnicalconversationensued,Jules,thema?tred’hotel,assisting.
Beforedeparting,M.Blondinlingeredamoment,loweringhisvoiceconfidentially.
“Youhavegraveaffairsonhand?”
Poirotshookhishead.
“Iam,alas,amanofleisure,”hesaidsoftly.“IhavemadetheeconomiesinmytimeandIhavenowthemeanstoenjoythelifeofidleness.”
“Ienvyyou.”
“No,no,youwouldbeunwisetodoso.Icanassureyou,itisnotsogayasitsounds.”Hesighed.“Howtrueisthesayingthatmanwasforcedtoinventworkinordertoescapethestrainofhavingtothink.”
M.Blondinthrewuphishands.
“Butthereissomuch!Thereistravel!”
“Yes,thereistravel.AlreadyIhavenotdonesobadly.ThiswinterIshallvisitEgypt,Ithink.Theclimate,theysay,issuperb!Onewillescapefromthefogs,thegreyness,themonotonyoftheconstantlyfallingrain.”
“Ah!Egypt,”breathedM.Blondin.
“Onecanevenvoyagetherenow,Ibelieve,bytrain,escapingallseatravelexcepttheChannel.”
“Ah,thesea,itdoesnotagreewithyou?”
HerculePoirotshookhisheadandshudderedslightly.
“I,too,”saidM.Blondinwithsympathy.“Curioustheeffectithasuponthestomach.”
“Butonlyuponcertainstomachs!Therearepeopleonwhomthemotionmakesnoimpressionwhatever.Theyactuallyenjoyit!”
“AnunfairnessofthegoodGod,”saidM.Blondin.
Heshookhisheadsadly,and,broodingontheimpiousthought,withdrew.
Smooth-footed,deft-handedwaitersministeredtothetable.ToastMelba,butter,anicepail,alltheadjunctstoamealofquality.
TheNegroorchestrabrokeintoanecstasyofstrangediscordantnoises.Londondanced.
HerculePoirotlookedon,registeredimpressionsinhisneatorderlymind.
Howboredandwearymostofthefaceswere!Someofthosestoutmen,however,wereenjoyingthemselves…whereasapatientenduranceseemedtobethesentimentexhibitedontheirpartners’faces.Thefatwomaninpurplewaslookingradiant…Undoubtedlythefathadcertaincompensationsinlife…azest—agusto—deniedtothoseofmorefashionablecontours.
Agoodsprinklingofyoungpeople—somevacant-looking—somebored—somedefinitelyunhappy.Howabsurdtocallyouththetimeofhappiness—youth,thetimeofgreatestvulnerability!
Hisglancesoftenedasitrestedononeparticularcouple.Awell-matchedpair—tallbroad-shoulderedman,slenderdelicategirl.Twobodiesthatmovedinperfectrhythmofhappiness.Happinessintheplace,thehour,andineachother.
Thedancestoppedabruptly.Handsclappedanditstartedagain.AfterasecondencorethecouplereturnedtotheirtableclosebyPoirot.Thegirlwasflushed,laughing.Asshesat,hecouldstudyherface,liftedlaughingtohercompanion.
Therewassomethingelsebesidelaughterinhereyes.HerculePoirotshookhisheaddoubtfully.
“Shecarestoomuch,thatlittleone,”hesaidtohimself.Itisnotsafe.No,itisnotsafe.”
Andthenawordcaughthisear,“Egypt.”
Theirvoicescametohimclearly—thegirl’syoung,fresh,arrogant,withjustatraceofsoft-soundingforeignR’s,andtheman’spleasant,low-toned,well-bredEnglish.
“I’mnotcountingmychickensbeforethey’rehatched,Simon.ItellyouLinnetwon’tletusdown!”
“Imightletherdown.”
“Nonsense—it’sjusttherightjobforyou.”
“AsamatteroffactIthinkitis…Ihaven’treallyanydoubtsastomycapability.AndImeantomakegood—foryoursake!”
Thegirllaughedsoftly,alaughofpurehappiness.
“We’llwaitthreemonths—tomakesureyoudon’tgetthesack—andthen—”
“AndthenI’llendowtheewithmyworldlygoods—that’sthehangofit,isn’tit?”
“And,asIsay,we’llgotoEgyptforourhoneymoon.Damntheexpense!I’vealwayswantedtogotoEgyptallmylife.TheNileandthePyramidsandthesand….”
Hesaid,hisvoiceslightlyindistinct:“We’llseeittogether,Jackie…together.Won’titbemarvellous?”
“Iwonder.Willitbeasmarvelloustoyouasitistome?Doyoureallycare—asmuchasIdo?”
Hervoicewassuddenlysharp—hereyesdilated—almostwithfear.
Theman’sanswercamequicklycrisp:“Don’tbeabsurd,Jackie.”
Butthegirlrepeated:“Iwonder….”
Thensheshruggedhershoulders.“Let’sdance.”
HerculePoirotmurmuredtohimself:
“Unequiaimeetunquiselaisseaimer.Yes,Iwondertoo.”
VII
JoannaSouthwoodsaid:“Andsupposehe’saterribletough?”
Linnetshookherhead.“Oh,hewon’tbe.IcantrustJacqueline’staste.”
Joannamurmured:“Ah,butpeopledon’truntruetoforminloveaffairs.”
Linnetshookherheadimpatiently.Thenshechangedthesubject.“ImustgoandseeMr.Pierceaboutthoseplans.”
“Plans?”
“Yes,somedreadfulinsanitaryoldcottages.I’mhavingthempulleddownandthepeoplemoved.”
“Howsanitaryandpublic-spiritedofyou,darling!”
“They’dhavehadtogoanyway.Thosecottageswouldhaveoverlookedmynewswimmingpool.”
“Dothepeoplewholiveinthemlikegoing?”
“Mostofthemaredelighted.Oneortwoarebeingratherstupidaboutit—reallytiresomeinfact.Theydon’tseemtorealizehowvastlyimprovedtheirlivingconditionswillbe!”
“Butyou’rebeingquitehigh-handedaboutit,Ipresume.”
“MydearJoanna,it’stotheiradvantagereally.”
“Yes,dear.I’msureitis.Compulsorybenefit.”
Linnetfrowned.Joannalaughed.
“Comenow,youareatyrant,admitit.Abeneficenttyrantifyoulike!”
“I’mnottheleastbitofatyrant.”
“Butyoulikeyourownway!”
“Notespecially.”
“LinnetRidgeway,canyoulookmeinthefaceandtellmeofanyoneoccasiononwhichyou’vefailedtodoexactlyasyouwanted?”
“Heapsoftimes.”
“Oh,yes,‘heapsoftimes’—justlikethat—butnoconcreteexample.Andyousimplycan’tthinkupone,darling,howeverhardyoutry!ThetriumphalprogressofLinnetRidgewayinhergoldencar.”
Linnetsaidsharply:“YouthinkI’mselfish?”
“No—justirresistible.Thecombinedeffectofmoneyandcharm.Everythinggoesdownbeforeyou.Whatyoucan’tbuywithcashyoubuywithasmile.Result:LinnetRidgeway,theGirlWhoHasEverything.”
“Don’tberidiculous,Joanna!”
“Well,haven’tyougoteverything?”
“IsupposeIhave…Itsoundsratherdisgusting,somehow!”
“Ofcourseit’sdisgusting,darling!You’llprobablygetterriblyboredandblasébyandby.Inthemeantime,enjoythetriumphalprogressinthegoldencar.OnlyIwonder,Ireallydowonder,whatwillhappenwhenyouwanttogodownastreetwhichhasaboardsaying‘NoThoroughfare.’”
“Don’tbeidiotic,Joanna.”AsLordWindleshamjoinedthem,Linnetsaid,turningtohim:“Joannaissayingthenastiestthingstome.”
“Allspite,darling,allspite,”saidJoannavaguelyasshegotupfromherseat.
Shemadenoapologyforleavingthem.ShehadcaughttheglintinWindlesham’seye.
Hewassilentforaminuteortwo.Thenhewentstraighttothepoint.
“Haveyoucometoadecision,Linnet?”
Linnetsaidslowly:“AmIbeingabrute?Isuppose,ifI’mnotsure,Ioughttosay‘No’—”
Heinterruptedher:
“Don’tsayit.Youshallhavetime—asmuchtimeasyouwant.ButIthink,youknow,weshouldbehappytogether.”
“Yousee,”Linnet’stonewasapologetic,almostchildish,“I’menjoyingmyselfsomuch—especiallywithallthis.”Shewavedahand.“IwantedtomakeWodeHallintomyrealidealofacountryhouse,andIdothinkI’vegotitnice,don’tyou?”
“It’sbeautiful.Beautifullyplanned.Everythingperfect.You’reveryclever,Linnet.”
Hepausedaminuteandwenton:“AndyoulikeCharltonbury,don’tyou?Ofcourseitwantsmodernizingandallthat—butyou’resocleveratthatsortofthing.Youenjoyit.”
“Why,ofcourse,Charltonbury’sdivine.”
Shespokewithreadyenthusiasm,butinwardlyshewasconsciousofasuddenchill.Analiennotehadsounded,disturbinghercompletesatisfactionwithlife.Shedidnotanalysethefeelingatthemoment,butlater,whenWindleshamhadlefther,shetriedtoprobetherecessesofhermind.
Charltonbury—yes,thatwasit—shehadresentedthementionofCharltonbury.Butwhy?Charltonburywasmodestlyfamous.Windlesham’sancestorshadhelditsincethetimeofElizabeth.TobemistressofCharltonburywasapositionunsurpassedinsociety.WindleshamwasoneofthemostdesirablepeersinEngland.
Naturallyhecouldn’ttakeWodeseriously…ItwasnotinanywaytobecomparedwithCharltonbury.
Ah,butWodewashers!Shehadseenit,acquiredit,rebuiltandredressedit,lavishedmoneyonit.Itwasherownpossession—herkingdom.
Butinasenseitwouldn’tcountifshemarriedWindlesham.Whatwouldtheywantwithtwocountryplaces?Andofthetwo,naturallyWodeHallwouldbetheonetobegivenup.
She,LinnetRidgeway,wouldn’texistanylonger.ShewouldbeCountessofWindlesham,bringingafinedowrytoCharltonburyanditsmaster.Shewouldbequeenconsort,notqueenanylonger.
“I’mbeingridiculous,”saidLinnettoherself.
ButitwascurioushowshedidhatetheideaofabandoningWode….
Andwasn’ttheresomethingelsenaggingather?
Jackie’svoicewiththatqueerblurrednoteinitsaying:“IshalldieifIcan’tmarryhim!Ishalldie.Ishalldie….”
Sopositive,soearnest.Didshe,Linnet,feellikethataboutWindlesham?Assuredlyshedidn’t.Perhapsshecouldneverfeellikethataboutanyone.Itmustbe—ratherwonderful—tofeellikethat….
Thesoundofacarcamethroughtheopenwindow.
Linnetshookherselfimpatiently.ThatmustbeJackieandheryoungman.She’dgooutandmeetthem.
ShewasstandingintheopendoorwayasJacquelineandSimonDoylegotoutofthecar.
“Linnet!”Jackierantoher.“ThisisSimon.Simon,here’sLinnet.She’sjustthemostwonderfulpersonintheworld.”
Linnetsawatall,broad-shoulderedyoungman,withverydarkblueeyes,crisplycurlingbrownhair,asquarechin,andaboyish,appealing,simplesmile….
Shestretchedoutahand.Thehandthatclaspedherswasfirmandwarm…Shelikedthewayhelookedather,thena?vegenuineadmiration.
Jackiehadtoldhimshewaswonderful,andheclearlythoughtthatshewaswonderful….
Awarmsweetfeelingofintoxicationranthroughherveins.
“Isn’tthisalllovely?”shesaid.“Comein,Simon,andletmewelcomemynewlandagentproperly.”
Andassheturnedtoleadthewayshethought:“I’mfrightfully—frightfullyhappy.IlikeJackie’syoungman…Ilikehimenormously….”
Andthenasuddenpang:“LuckyJackie….”
VIII
TimAllertonleantbackinhiswickerchairandyawnedashelookedoutoverthesea.Heshotaquicksidelongglanceathismother.
Mrs.Allertonwasagood-looking,white-hairedwomanoffifty.Byimpartinganexpressionofpinchedseveritytohermoutheverytimeshelookedatherson,shesoughttodisguisethefactofherintenseaffectionforhim.EventotalstrangerswereseldomdeceivedbythisdeviceandTimhimselfsawthroughitperfectly.
Hesaid:“DoyoureallylikeMajorca,Mother?”
“Well,”Mrs.Allertonconsidered,“it’scheap.”
“Andcold,”saidTimwithaslightshiver.
Hewasatall,thinyoungman,withdarkhairandarathernarrowchest.Hismouthhadaverysweetexpression:Hiseyesweresadandhischinwasindecisive.Hehadlongdelicatehands.
Threatenedbyconsumptionsomeyearsago,hehadneverdisplayedareallyrobustphysique.Hewaspopularlysupposed“towrite,”butitwasunderstoodamonghisfriendsthatinquiriesastoliteraryoutputwerenotencouraged.
“Whatareyouthinkingof,Tim?”
Mrs.Allertonwasalert.Herbright,dark-browneyeslookedsuspicious.
TimAllertongrinnedather:
“IwasthinkingofEgypt.”
“Egypt?”Mrs.Allertonsoundeddoubtful.
“Realwarmth,darling.Lazygoldensands.TheNile.I’dliketogouptheNile,wouldn’tyou?”
“Oh,I’dlikeit.”Hertonewasdry.“ButEgypt’sexpensive,mydear.Notforthosewhohavetocountthepennies.”
Timlaughed.Herose,stretchedhimself.Suddenlyhelookedaliveandeager.Therewasanexcitednoteinhisvoice.
“Theexpensewillbemyaffair.Yes,darling.AlittleflutterontheStockExchange.Withthoroughlysatisfactoryresults.Iheardthismorning.”
“Thismorning?”saidMrs.Allertonsharply.“Youonlyhadoneletterandthat—”
Shestoppedandbitherlip.
Timlookedmomentarilyundecidedwhethertobeamusedorannoyed.Amusementgainedtheday.
“AndthatwasfromJoanna,”hefinishedcoolly.“Quiteright,Mother.Whataqueenofdetectivesyou’dmake!ThefamousHerculePoirotwouldhavetolooktohislaurelsifyouwereabout.”
Mrs.Allertonlookedrathercross.
“Ijusthappenedtoseethehandwriting—”
“Andknewitwasn’tthatofastockbroker?Quiteright.AsamatteroffactitwasyesterdayIheardfromthem.PoorJoanna’shandwritingisrathernoticeable—sprawlsaboutallovertheenvelopelikeaninebriatedspider.”
“WhatdoesJoannasay?Anynews?”
Mrs.Allertonstrovetomakehervoicesoundcasualandordinary.Thefriendshipbetweenhersonandhissecondcousin,JoannaSouthwood,alwaysirritatedher.Not,assheputittoherself,thattherewas“anythinginit.”Shewasquitesuretherewasn’t.TimhadnevermanifestedasentimentalinterestinJoanna,norsheinhim.Theirmutualattractionseemedtobefoundedongossipandthepossessionofalargenumberoffriendsandacquaintancesincommon.Theybothlikedpeopleanddiscussingpeople.Joannahadanamusingifcaustictongue.
ItwasnotbecauseMrs.AllertonfearedthatTimmightfallinlovewithJoannathatshefoundherselfalwaysbecomingalittlestiffinmannerifJoannawerepresentorwhenlettersfromherarrived.
Itwassomeotherfeelinghardtodefine—perhapsanunacknowledgedjealousyintheunfeignedpleasureTimalwaysseemedtotakeinJoanna’ssociety.HeandhismotherweresuchperfectcompanionsthatthesightofhimabsorbedandinterestedinanotherwomanalwaysstartledMrs.Allertonslightly.Shefancied,too,thatherownpresenceontheseoccasionssetsomebarrierbetweenthetwomembersoftheyoungergeneration.Oftenshehadcomeuponthemeagerlyabsorbedinsomeconversationand,atsightofher,theirtalkhadwavered,hadseemedtoincludeherrathertoopurposefullyandasifdutybound.Quitedefinitely,Mrs.AllertondidnotlikeJoannaSouthwood.Shethoughtherinsincere,affected,andessentiallysuperficial.Shefounditveryhardtopreventherselfsayingsoinunmeasuredtones.
Inanswertoherquestion,Timpulledtheletteroutofhispocketandglancedthroughit.Itwasquitealongletter,hismothernoted.
“Nothingmuch,”hesaid.“TheDevenishesaregettingadivorce.OldMonty’sbeenhadupforbeingdrunkinchargeofacar.Windlesham’sgonetoCanada.SeemshewasprettybadlyhitwhenLinnetRidgewayturnedhimdown.She’sdefinitelygoingtomarrythislandagentperson.”
“Howextraordinary!Isheverydreadful?”
“No,no,notatall.He’soneoftheDevonshireDoyles.Nomoney,ofcourse—andhewasactuallyengagedtooneofLinnet’sbestfriends.Prettythick,that.”
“Idon’tthinkit’satallnice,”saidMrs.Allerton,flushing.
Timflashedheraquickaffectionateglance.
“Iknow,darling.Youdon’tapproveofsnafflingotherpeople’shusbandsandallthatsortofthing.”
“Inmydaywehadourstandards,”saidMrs.Allerton.“Andaverygoodthingtoo!Nowadaysyoungpeopleseemtothinktheycanjustgoaboutdoinganythingtheychoose.”
Timsmiled.“Theydon’tonlythinkit.Theydoit.
VideLinnetRidgeway!”
“Well,Ithinkit’shorrid!”
Timtwinkledather.
“Cheerup,youolddie-hard!PerhapsIagreewithyou.Anyway,Ihaven’thelpedmyselftoanyone’swifeorfiancéeyet.”
“I’msureyou’dneverdosuchathing,”saidMrs.Allerton.Sheaddedwithspirit,“I’vebroughtyouupproperly.”
“Sothecreditisyours,notmine.”
Hesmiledteasinglyatherashefoldedtheletterandputitawayagain.Mrs.Allertonletthethoughtjustflashacrosshermind:“Mostlettersheshowstome.HeonlyreadsmesnippetsfromJoanna’s.”
Butsheputtheunworthythoughtawayfromher,anddecided,asever,tobehavelikeagentlewoman.
“IsJoannaenjoyinglife?”sheasked.
“Soso.SaysshethinksofopeningadelicatessenshopinMayfair.”
“Shealwaystalksaboutbeinghardup,”saidMrs.Allertonwithatingeofspite,“butshegoesabouteverywhereandherclothesmustcostheralot.She’salwaysbeautifullydressed.”
“Ah,well,”saidTim,“sheprobablydoesn’tpayforthem.No,mother,Idon’tmeanwhatyourEdwardianmindsuggeststoyou.Ijustmeanquiteliterallythatsheleavesherbillsunpaid.”
Mrs.Allertonsighed.
“Ineverknowhowpeoplemanagetodothat.”
“It’sakindofspecialgift,”saidTim.“Ifonlyyouhavesufficientlyextravaganttastes,andabsolutelynosenseofmoneyvalues,peoplewillgiveyouanyamountofcredit.”
“Yes,butyoucometotheBankruptcyCourtintheendlikepoorSirGeorgeWode.”
“Youhaveasoftspotforthatoldhorsecoper—probablybecausehecalledyouarosebudineighteenseventy-nineatadance.”
“Iwasn’tbornineighteenseventy-nine,”Mrs.Allertonretortedwithspirit.“SirGeorgehascharmingmanners,andIwon’thaveyoucallinghimahorsecoper.”
“I’veheardfunnystoriesabouthimfrompeoplethatknow.”
“YouandJoannadon’tmindwhatyousayaboutpeople;anythingwilldosolongasit’ssufficientlyill-natured.”
Timraisedhiseyebrows.
“Mydear,you’requiteheated.Ididn’tknowoldWodewassuchafavouriteofyours.”
“Youdon’trealizehowharditwasforhim,havingtosellWodeHall.Hecaredterriblyaboutthatplace.”
Timsuppressedtheeasyretort.Afterall,whowashetojudge?Insteadhesaidthoughtfully:
“Youknow,Ithinkyou’renotfarwrongthere.Linnetaskedhimtocomedownandseewhatshe’ddonetotheplace,andherefusedquiterudely.”
“Ofcourse.Sheoughttohaveknownbetterthantoaskhim.”
“AndIbelievehe’squitevenomousabouther—muttersthingsunderhisbreathwheneverheseesher.Can’tforgiveherforhavinggivenhimanabsolutelytoppricefortheworm-eatenfamilyestate.”
“Andyoucan’tunderstandthat?”Mrs.Allertonspokesharply.
“Frankly,”saidTimcalmly,“Ican’t.Whyliveinthepast?Whyclingontothingsthathavebeen?”
“Whatareyougoingtoputintheirplace?”
Heshruggedhisshoulders.“Excitement,perhaps.Novelty.Thejoyofneverknowingwhatmayturnupfromdaytoday.Insteadofinheritingauselesstractofland,thepleasureofmakingmoneyforyourself—byyourownbrainsandskill.”
“AsuccessfuldealontheStockExchange,infact!”
Helaughed.“Whynot?”
“AndwhataboutanequallossontheStockExchange?”
“That,dear,israthertactless.Andquiteinappropriatetoday…WhataboutthisEgyptplan?”
“Well—”
Hecutinsmilingather:“That’ssettled.We’vebothalwayswantedtoseeEgypt.”
“Whendoyousuggest?”
“Oh,nextmonth.January’saboutthebesttimethere.We’llenjoythedelightfulsocietyinthishotelafewweekslonger.”
“Tim,”saidMrs.Allertonreproachfully.Thensheaddedguiltily:“I’mafraidIpromisedMrs.Leechthatyou’dgowithhertothepolicestation.Shedoesn’tunderstandanySpanish.”
Timmadeagrimace.
“Aboutherring?Theblood-redrubyofthehorse-leech’sdaughter?Doesshestillpersistinthinkingit’sbeenstolen?I’llgoifyoulike,butit’sawasteoftime.She’llonlygetsomewretchedchambermaidintotrouble.Idistinctlysawitonherfingerwhenshewentintotheseathatday.Itcameoffinthewaterandshenevernoticed.”
“Shesayssheisquitesureshetookitoffandleftitonherdressingtable.”
“Well,shedidn’t.Isawitwithmyowneyes.Thewoman’safool.Anywoman’safoolwhogoesprancingintotheseainDecember,pretendingthewater’squitewarmjustbecausethesunhappenstobeshiningratherbrightlyatthemoment.Stoutwomenoughtn’ttobeallowedtobatheanyway;theylooksorevoltinginbathingdresses.”
Mrs.Allertonmurmured,“IreallyfeelIoughttogiveupbathing.”
Timgaveashoutoflaughter.
“You?Youcangivemostoftheyoungthingspointsandtospare.”
Mrs.Allertonsighedandsaid,“Iwishtherewereafewmoreyoungpeopleforyouhere.”
TimAllertonshookhisheaddecidedly.
“Idon’t.YouandIgetalongrathercomfortablywithoutoutsidedistractions.”
“You’dlikeitifJoannawerehere.”
“Iwouldn’t.”Histonewasunexpectedlyresolute.“You’reallwrongthere.Joannaamusesme,butIdon’treallylikeher,andtohaveheraroundmuchgetsonmynerves.I’mthankfulsheisn’there.IshouldbequiteresignedifIwerenevertoseeJoannaagain.”
Headded,almostbelowhisbreath,“There’sonlyonewomanintheworldI’vegotarealrespectandadmirationfor,andIthink,Mrs.Allerton,youknowverywellwhothatwomanis.”
Hismotherblushedandlookedquiteconfused.
Timsaidgravely:“Therearen’tverymanyreallynicewomenintheworld.Youhappentobeoneofthem.”
IX
InanapartmentoverlookingCentralParkinNewYorkMrs.Robsonexclaimed:“Ifthatisn’tjusttoolovely!Youreallyaretheluckiestgirl,Cornelia.”
CorneliaRobsonflushedresponsively.Shewasabigclumsylookinggirlwithbrowndoglikeeyes.
“Oh,itwillbewonderful!”shegasped.
OldMissVanSchuylerinclinedherheadinasatisfiedfashionatthiscorrectattitudeonthepartofpoorrelations.“I’vealwaysdreamedofatriptoEurope,”sighedCornelia,“butIjustdidn’tfeelI’devergetthere.”
“MissBowerswillcomewithmeasusual,ofcourse,”saidMissVanSchuyler,“butasasocialcompanionIfindherlimited—verylimited.TherearemanylittlethingsthatCorneliacandoforme.”
“I’djustloveto,CousinMarie,”saidCorneliaeagerly.
“Well,well,thenthat’ssettled,”saidMissVanSchuyler.“JustrunandfindMissBowers,mydear.It’stimeformyeggnog.”
Corneliadeparted.Hermothersaid:“MydearMarie,I’mreallymostgratefultoyou!YouknowIthinkCorneliasuffersalotfromnotbeingasocialsuccess.Itmakesherfeelkindofmortified.IfIcouldaffordtotakehertoplaces—butyouknowhowit’sbeensinceNeddied.”
“I’mverygladtotakeher,”saidMissVanSchuyler.“Corneliahasalwaysbeenanicehandygirl,willingtorunerrands,andnotsoselfishassomeoftheseyoungpeoplenowadays.”
Mrs.Robsonroseandkissedherrichrelative’swrinkledandslightlyyellowface.
“I’mjusteversograteful,”shedeclared.
Onthestairsshemetatallcapable-lookingwomanwhowascarryingaglasscontainingayellowfoamyliquid.
“Well,MissBowers,soyou’reofftoEurope?”
“Why,yes,Mrs.Robson.”
“Whatalovelytrip!”
“Why,yes,Ishouldthinkitwouldbeveryenjoyable.”
“Butyou’vebeenabroadbefore?”
“Oh,yes,Mrs.Robson.IwentovertoPariswithMissVanSchuylerlastfall.ButI’veneverbeentoEgyptbefore.”
Mrs.Robsonhesitated.
“Idohope—therewon’tbeany—trouble.”
Shehadloweredhervoice.MissBowers,however,repliedinherusualtone:
“Oh,no,Mrs.Robson;Ishalltakegoodcareofthat.Ikeepaverysharplookoutalways.”
ButtherewasstillafaintshadowonMrs.Robson’sfaceassheslowlycontinueddownthestairs.
X
InhisofficedowntownMr.AndrewPenningtonwasopeninghispersonalmail.Suddenlyhisfistclencheditselfandcamedownonhisdeskwithabang;hisfacecrimsonedandtwobigveinsstoodoutonhisforehead.Hepressedabuzzeronhisdeskandasmart-lookingstenographerappearedwithcommendablepromptitude.
“TellMr.Rockfordtostepinhere.”
“Yes,Mr.Pennington.”
Afewminuteslater,SterndaleRockford,Pennington’spartner,enteredtheoffice.Thetwomenwerenotunlike—bothtall,spare,withgreyinghairandclean-shaven,cleverfaces.
“What’sup,Pennington?”
Penningtonlookedupfromtheletterhewasrereading.Hesaid.“Linnet’smarried….”
“What?”
“YouheardwhatIsaid!LinnetRidgeway’smarried!”
“How?When?Whydidn’twehearaboutit?”
Penningtonglancedatthecalendaronhisdesk.
“Shewasn’tmarriedwhenshewrotethisletter,butshe’smarriednow.Morningofthefourth.That’stoday.”
Rockforddroppedintoachair.
“Whew!Nowarning!Nothing?Who’stheman?”
Penningtonreferredagaintotheletter
“Doyle.SimonDoyle.”
“Whatsortofafellowishe?Everheardofhim?”
“No.Shedoesn’tsaymuch…”Hescannedthelinesofclear,uprighthandwriting.“Gotanideathere’ssomethinghole-and-corneraboutthisbusiness…Thatdoesn’tmatter.Thewholepointis,she’smarried.”
Theeyesofthetwomenmet.Rockfordnodded.
“Thisneedsabitofthinkingout,”hesaidquietly.
“Whatarewegoingtodoaboutit?”
“I’maskingyou.”
Thetwomensatsilent.ThenRockfordasked,“Gotanyplan?”
Penningtonsaidslowly:“TheNormandiesailstoday.Oneofuscouldjustmakeit.”
“You’recrazy!What’sthebigidea?”
Penningtonbegan:“ThoseBritishlawyers—”andstopped.
“Whatabout’em.Surelyyou’renotgoingovertotackle’em?You’remad!”
“I’mnotsuggestingthatyou—orI—shouldgotoEngland.”
“What’sthebigidea,then?”
Penningtonsmoothedouttheletteronthetable.
“Linnet’sgoingtoEgyptforherhoneymoon.Expectstobethereamonthormore….”
“Egypt—eh?”
Rockfordconsidered.Thenhelookedupandmettheother’sglance.
“Egypt,”hesaid.“That’syouridea!”
“Yes—achancemeeting.Overonatrip.Linnetandherhusband—honeymoonatmosphere.Itmightbedone.”
Rockfordsaiddoubtfully:“She’ssharp,Linnetis…but—”
Penningtonwentonsoftly:“Ithinktheremightbewaysof—managingit.”
Againtheireyesmet.Rockfordnodded.
“Allright,bigboy.”
Penningtonlookedattheclock.
“We’llhavetohustle—whicheverofusisgoing.”
“Yougo,”saidRockfordpromptly.“YoualwaysmadeahitwithLinnet.‘UncleAndrew.’That’stheticket!”
Pennington’sfacehadhardened.Hesaid:“IhopeIcanpullitoff.”
“You’vegottopullitoff,”hispartnersaid.
“Thesituation’scritical….”
XI
WilliamCarmichaelsaidtothethin,weedyyouthwhoopenedthedoorinquiringly:“SendMr.Jimtome,please.”
JimFanthorpenteredtheroomandlookedinquiringlyathisuncle.Theoldermanlookedupwithanodandagrunt.
“Humph,thereyouare.”
“Youaskedforme?”
“Justcastaneyeoverthis.”
Theyoungmansatdownanddrewthesheafofpaperstowardshim.Theeldermanwatchedhim.
“Well?”
Theanswercamepromptly.“Looksfishytome,sir.”
AgaintheseniorpartnerofCarmichael,Grant&Carmichaelutteredhischaracteristicgrunt.
JimFanthorprereadtheletterwhichhadjustarrivedbyairmailfromEgypt:
…Itseemswickedtobewritingbusinesslettersonsuchaday.WehavespentaweekatMenaHouseandmadeanexpeditiontotheFayum.ThedayaftertomorrowwearegoinguptheNiletoLuxorandAssuanbysteamer,andperhapsontoKhartoum.WhenwewentintoCook’sthismorningtoseeaboutourticketswhodoyouthinkwasthefirstpersonIsaw?—myAmericantrustee,AndrewPennington.Ithinkyoumethimtwoyearsagowhenhewasover.IhadnoideahewasinEgyptandhehadnoideathatIwas!NorthatIwasmarried!Myletter,tellinghimofmymarriage,mustjusthavemissedhim.HeisactuallygoinguptheNileonthesametripthatweare.Isn’titacoincidence?Thankyousomuchforallyouhavedoneinthisbusytime.I—
Astheyoungmanwasabouttoturnthepage,Mr.Carmichaeltooktheletterfromhim.
“That’sall,”hesaid.“Therestdoesn’tmatter.Well,whatdoyouthink?”
Hisnephewconsideredforamoment—thenhesaid:
“Well—Ithink—notacoincidence….”
Theothernoddedapproval.
“LikeatriptoEgypt?”hebarkedout
“Youthinkthat’sadvisable?”
“Ithinkthere’snotimetolose.”
“But,whyme?”
“Useyourbrains,boy;useyourbrains.LinnetRidgewayhasnevermetyou;nomorehasPennington.Ifyougobyairyoumaygetthereintime.”
“I—Idon’tlikeit.”
“Perhapsnot—butyou’vegottodoit.”
“It’s—necessary?”
“Inmyopinion,”saidMr.Carmichael,“it’sabsolutelyvital.”
XII
Mrs.Otterbourne,readjustingtheturbanofnativematerialthatsheworedrapedroundherhead,saidfretfully:
“Ireallydon’tseewhyweshouldn’tgoontoEgypt.I’msickandtiredofJerusalem.”
Asherdaughtermadenoreply,shesaid,“Youmightatleastanswerwhenyou’respokento.”
RosalieOtterbournewaslookingatanewspaperreproductionofaface.Belowitwasprinted:
Mrs.SimonDoyle,whobeforehermarriagewasthewell-knownsocietybeauty,MissLinnetRidgeway.Mr.andMrs.DoylearespendingtheirholidayinEgypt.Rosaliesaid,“You’dliketomoveontoEgypt,Mother?”
“Yes,Iwould,”Mrs.Otterbournesnapped.“Iconsiderthey’vetreatedusinamostcavalierfashionhere.Mybeinghereisanadvertisement—Ioughttogetaspecialreductioninterms.WhenIhintedasmuch,Iconsidertheyweremostimpertinent—mostimpertinent.ItoldthemexactlywhatIthoughtofthem.”
Thegirlsighed.Shesaid:“Oneplaceisverylikeanother.Iwishwecouldgetrightaway.”
“Andthismorning,”wentonMrs.Otterbourne,“themanageractuallyhadtheimpertinencetotellmethatalltheroomshadbeenbookedinadvanceandthathewouldrequireoursintwodays’time.”
“Sowe’vegottogosomewhere.”
“Notatall.I’mquitepreparedtofightformyrights.”
Rosaliemurmured:“IsupposewemightaswellgoontoEgypt.Itdoesn’tmakeanydifference.”
“It’scertainlynotamatteroflifeordeath,”agreedMrs.Otterbourne.
Butthereshewasquitewrong—foramatteroflifeanddeathwasexactlywhatitwas.
Two
“That’sHerculePoirot,thedetective,”saidMrs.Allerton.
SheandhersonweresittinginbrightlypaintedscarletbasketchairsoutsidetheCataractHotelinAssuan.Theywerewatchingtheretreatingfiguresoftwopeople—ashortmandressedinawhitesilksuitandatallslimgirl.
TimAllertonsatupinanunusuallyalertfashion.
“Thatfunnylittleman?”heaskedincredulously.
“Thatfunnylittleman!”
“Whatonearth’shedoinghere?”Timasked.
Hismotherlaughed.“Darling,yousoundquiteexcited.Whydomenenjoycrimesomuch?Ihatedetectivestoriesandneverreadthem.ButIdon’tthinkMonsieurPoirotisherewithanyulteriormotive.He’smadeagooddealofmoneyandhe’sseeinglife,Ifancy.”
“Seemstohaveaneyeforthebest-lookinggirlintheplace.”
Mrs.AllertontiltedherheadalittleononesideassheconsideredtheretreatingbacksofM.Poirotandhiscompanion.
Thegirlbyhissideovertoppedhimbysomethreeinches.Shewalkedwell,neitherstifflynorsloughingly.
“Isupposesheisquitegood-looking,”saidMrs.Allerton.SheshotalittleglancesidewaysatTim.Somewhattoheramusementthefishroseatonce.
“She’smorethanquite.Pityshelookssobad-temperedandsulky.”
“Perhapsthat’sjustexpression,dear.”
“Unpleasantyoungdevil,Ithink.Butshe’sprettyenough.”
ThesubjectoftheseremarkswaswalkingslowlybyPoirot’sside.RosalieOtterbournewastwirlinganunopenedparasol,andherexpressioncertainlyboreoutwhatTimhadjustsaid.Shelookedbothsulkyandbad-tempered.Hereyebrowsweredrawntogetherinafrown,andthescarletlineofhermouthwasdrawndownward.
Theyturnedtotheleftoutofthehotelgateandenteredthecoolshadeofthepublicgardens.
HerculePoirotwasprattlinggently,hisexpressionthatofbeatificgoodhumour.Heworeawhitesilksuit,carefullypressed,andapanamahat,andcarriedahighlyornamentalflywhiskwithashamamberhandle.
“—itenchantsme,”hewassaying.“TheblackrocksofElephantine,andthesun,andthelittleboatsontheriver.Yes,itisgoodtobealive.”
Hepausedandthenadded:“Youdonotfinditso,Mademoiselle?”
RosalieOtterbournesaidshortly:“It’sallright,Isuppose.IthinkAssuan’sagloomysortofplace.Thehotel’shalfempty,andeveryone’saboutahundred—”
Shestopped—bitingherlip.
HerculePoirot’seyestwinkled.
“Itistrue,yes,Ihaveoneleginthegrave.”
“I—Iwasn’tthinkingofyou,”saidthegirl.
“I’msorry.Thatsoundedrude.”
“Notatall.Itisnaturalyoushouldwishforcompanionsofyourownage.Ah,well,thereisoneyoungman,atleast.”
“Theonewhositswithhismotherallthetime?Ilikeher—butIthinkhelooksdreadful—soconceited!”
Poirotsmiled.
“AndI—amIconceited?”
“Oh,Idon’tthinkso.”
Shewasobviouslyuninterested—butthefactdidnotseemtoannoyPoirot.Hemerelyremarkedwithplacidsatisfaction:
“MybestfriendsaysthatIamveryconceited.”
“Oh,well,”saidRosalievaguely,“Isupposeyouhavesomethingtobeconceitedabout.Unfortunatelycrimedoesn’tinterestmeintheleast.”
Poirotsaidsolemnly,“Iamdelightedtolearnthatyouhavenoguiltysecrettohide.”
Justforamomentthesulkymaskofherfacewastransformedassheshothimaswiftquestioningglance.Poirotdidnotseemtonoticeitashewenton:
“Madame,yourmother,wasnotatlunchtoday.Sheisnotindisposed,Itrust?”
“Thisplacedoesn’tsuither,”saidRosaliebriefly.“Ishallbegladwhenweleave.”
“Wearefellowpassengers,arewenot?WebothmaketheexcursionuptoWadiHalfaandtheSecondCataract?”
“Yes.”
Theycameoutfromtheshadeofthegardensontoadustystretchofroadborderedbytheriver.Fivewatchfulbead-sellers,twovendorsofpostcards,threesellersofplasterscarabs,acoupleofdonkeyboysandsomedetachedbuthopefulinfantileriff-raffclosedinuponthem.
“Youwantbeads,sir?Verygood,sir.Verycheap….”
“Lady,youwantscarab?Look—greatqueen—verylucky….”
“Youlook,sir—reallapis.Verygood,verycheap….”
“Youwantridedonkey,sir?Thisverygooddonkey.ThisdonkeyWhiskeyandSoda,sir….”
“Youwanttogogranitequarries,sir?Thisverygooddonkey.Otherdonkeyverybad,sir,thatdonkeyfalldown….”
“Youwantpostcard—verycheap—verynice….”
“Look,lady…Onlytenpiastres—verycheap—lapis—thisivory….”
“Thisverygoodflywhisk—thisall-amber….”
“Yougooutinboat,sir?Igotverygoodboat,sir….”
“Yougobacktohotel,lady?Thisfirst-classdonkey….”
HerculePoirotmadevaguegesturestoridhimselfofthishumanclusterofflies.Rosaliestalkedthroughthemlikeasleepwalker.
“It’sbesttopretendtobedeafandblind,”sheremarked.
Theinfantileriff-raffranalongsidemurmuringplaintively:“Bakshish?Bakshish?Hiphiphurrah—verygood,verynice….”
Theirgailycolouredragstrailedpicturesquely,andtheflieslayinclustersontheireyelids.Theywerethemostpersistent.Theothersfellbackandlaunchedafreshattackonthenextcorner
NowPoirotandRosalieonlyranthegauntletoftheshops—suave,persuasiveaccentshere….
“Youvisitmyshoptoday,sir?”“Youwantthativorycrocodile,sir?”“Younotbeeninmyshopyet,sir?Ishowyouverybeautifulthings.”
TheyturnedintothefifthshopandRosaliehandedoverseveralrollsoffilm—theobjectofthewalk.
Thentheycameoutagainandwalkedtowardstheriver’sedge.
OneoftheNilesteamerswasjustmooring.PoirotandRosalielookedinterestedlyatthepassengers.
“Quitealot,aren’tthere?”commentedRosalie.
SheturnedherheadasTimAllertoncameupandjoinedthem.Hewasalittleoutofbreathasthoughhehadbeenwalkingfast.
Theystoodthereforamomentortwo,andthenTimspoke.
“Anawfulcrowdasusual,Isuppose,”heremarkeddisparagingly,indicatingthedisembarkingpassengers.
“They’reusuallyquiteterrible,”agreedRosalie.
Allthreeworetheairofsuperiorityassumedbypeoplewhoarealreadyinaplacewhenstudyingnewarrivals.
“Hullo!”exclaimedTim,hisvoicesuddenlyexcited.“I’mdamnedifthatisn’tLinnetRidgeway.”
IftheinformationleftPoirotunmoved,itstirredRosalie’sinterest.Sheleanedforwardandhersulkinessquitedroppedfromherassheasked:“Where?Thatoneinwhite?”
“Yes,therewiththetallman.They’recomingashorenow.He’sthenewhusband,Isuppose.Can’trememberhisnamenow.”
“Doyle,”saidRosalie.“SimonDoyle.Itwasinallthenewspapers.She’ssimplyrolling,isn’tshe?”
“OnlyabouttherichestgirlinEngland,”repliedTimcheerfully.
Thethreelookers-onweresilentwatchingthepassengerscomeashore.Poirotgazedwithinterestatthesubjectoftheremarksofhiscompanions.Hemurmured:“Sheisbeautiful.”
“Somepeoplehavegoteverything,”saidRosaliebitterly.
Therewasaqueergrudgingexpressiononherfaceasshewatchedtheothergirlcomeupthegangplank.
LinnetDoylewaslookingasperfectlyturnedoutasifsheweresteppingontothecentreofthestageofarevue.Shehadsomethingtoooftheassuranceofafamousactress.Shewasusedtobeinglookedat,tobeingadmired,tobeingthecentreofthestagewherevershewent.
Shewasawareofthekeenglancesbentuponher—andatthesametimealmostunawareofthem;suchtributeswerepartofherlife.
Shecameashoreplayingarole,eventhoughsheplayeditunconsciously.Therichbeautifulsocietybrideonherhoneymoon.Sheturned,withalittlesmileandalightremark,tothetallmanbyherside.Heanswered,andthesoundofhisvoiceseemedtointerestHerculePoirot.Hiseyeslitupandhedrewhisbrowstogether.
Thecouplepassedclosetohim.HeheardSimonDoylesay:
“We’lltryandmaketimeforit,darling.Wecaneasilystayaweekortwoifyoulikeithere.”
Hisfacewasturnedtowardsher,eager,adoring,alittlehumble.
Poirot’seyesranoverhimthoughtfully—thesquareshoulders,thebronzedface,thedarkblueeyes,theratherchildlikesimplicityofthesmile.
“Luckydevil,”saidTimaftertheyhadpassed.“Fancyfindinganheiresswhohasn’tgotadenoidsandflatfeet!”
“Theylookfrightfullyhappy,”saidRosaliewithanoteofenvyinhervoice.Sheaddedsuddenly,butsolowthatTimdidnotcatchthewords,“Itisn’tfair.”
Poirotheard,however.Hehadbeenfrowningsomewhatperplexedly,butnowheflashedaquickglancetowardsher.
Timsaid:“Imustcollectsomestuffformymothernow.”
Heraisedhishatandmovedoff.PoirotandRosalieretracedtheirstepsslowlyinthedirectionofthehotel,wavingasidefreshproffersofdonkeys.
“Soitisnotfair,Mademoiselle?”askedPoirotgently.
Thegirlflushedangrily.
“Idon’tknowwhatyoumean.”
“Iamrepeatingwhatyousaidjustnowunderyourbreath.Oh,yes,youdid.”
RosalieOtterbourneshruggedhershoulders.
“Itreallyseemsalittletoomuchforoneperson.Money,goodlooks,marvellousfigureand—”
ShepausedandPoirotsaid:
“Andlove?Eh?Andlove?Butyoudonotknow—shemayhavebeenmarriedforhermoney!”
“Didn’tyouseethewayhelookedather?”
“Oh,yes,Mademoiselle.Isawalltherewastosee—indeedIsawsomethingthatyoudidnot.”
“Whatwasthat?”
Poirotsaidslowly:“Isaw,Mademoiselle,darklinesbelowawoman’seyes.Isawahandthatclutchedasunshadesotightthattheknuckleswerewhite….”
Rosaliewasstaringathim.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Imeanthatallisnotthegoldthatglitters.Imeanthat,thoughthisladyisrichandbeautifulandbeloved,thereisallthesamesomethingthatisnotright.AndIknowsomethingelse.”
“Yes?”
“Iknow,”saidPoirot,frowning,“thatsomewhere,atsometime,Ihaveheardthatvoicebefore—thevoiceofMonsieurDoyle—andIwishIcouldrememberwhere.”
ButRosaliewasnotlistening.Shehadstoppeddead.Withthepointofhersunshadeshewastracingpatternsintheloosesand.Suddenlyshebrokeoutfiercely:
“I’modious.I’mquiteodious.I’mjustabeastthroughandthrough.I’dliketoteartheclothesoffherbackandstamponherlovely,arrogant,self-confidentface.I’mjustajealouscat—butthat’swhatIfeellike.She’ssohorriblysuccessfulandpoisedandassured.”
HerculePoirotlookedalittleastonishedbytheoutburst.Hetookherbythearmandgaveherafriendlylittleshake.
“Tenez—youwillfeelbetterforhavingsaidthat!”
“Ijusthateher!I’veneverhatedanyonesomuchatfirstsight.”
“Magnificent!”
Rosalielookedathimdoubtfully.Thenhermouthtwitchedandshelaughed.
“Bien,”saidPoirot,andlaughedtoo.
Theyproceededamicablybacktothehotel.
“ImustfindMother,”saidRosalie,astheycameintothecooldimhall.
PoirotpassedoutontheothersideontotheterraceoverlookingtheNile.Herewerelittletablessetfortea,butitwasearlystill.Hestoodforafewmomentslookingattheriver,thenstrolleddownthroughthegarden.
Somepeoplewereplayingtennisinthehotsun.Hepausedtowatchthemforawhile,thenwentondownthesteeppath.Itwashere,sittingonabenchoverlookingtheNile,thathecameuponthegirlofChezMaTante.Herecognizedheratonce.Herface,ashehadseenitthatnight,wassecurelyetcheduponhismemory.Theexpressiononitnowwasverydifferent.Shewaspaler,thinner,andtherewerelinesthattoldofagreatwearinessandmiseryofspirit.
Hedrewbackalittle.Shehadnotseenhim,andhewatchedherforawhilewithouthersuspectinghispresence.Hersmallfoottappedimpatientlyontheground.Hereyes,darkwithakindofsmoulderingfire,hadaqueerkindofsufferingdarktriumphinthem.ShewaslookingoutacrosstheNilewherethewhite-sailedboatsglidedupanddowntheriver.
Aface—andavoice.Herememberedthemboth.Thisgirl’sfaceandthevoicehehadheardjustnow,thevoiceofanewlymadebridegroom….
Andevenashestoodthereconsideringtheunconsciousgirl,thenextsceneinthedramawasplayed.
Voicessoundedabove.Thegirlontheseatstartedtoherfeet.LinnetDoyleandherhusbandcamedownthepath.Linnet’svoicewashappyandconfident.Thelookofstrainandtensenessofmusclehadquitedisappeared,Linnetwashappy.
Thegirlwhowasstandingtheretookasteportwoforward.Theothertwostoppeddead.
“Hullo,Linnet,”saidJacquelinedeBellefort.“Sohereyouare!Weneverseemtostoprunningintoeachother.Hullo,Simon,howareyou?”
LinnetDoylehadshrunkbackagainsttherockwithalittlecry.SimonDoyle’sgood-lookingfacewassuddenlyconvulsedwithrage.Hemovedforwardasthoughhewouldhavelikedtostriketheslimgirlishfigure.
Withaquickbirdliketurnofherheadshesignalledherrealizationofastranger’spresence.SimonturnedhisheadandnoticedPoirot.Hesaidawkwardly:“Hullo,Jacqueline;wedidn’texpecttoseeyouhere.”
Thewordswereunconvincingintheextreme.
Thegirlflashedwhiteteethatthem.
“Quiteasurprise?”sheasked.Then,withalittlenod,shewalkedupthepath.
Poirotmoveddelicatelyintheoppositedirection.Ashewent,heheardLinnetDoylesay:
“Simon—forGod’ssake!Simon—whatcanwedo?”
Three
Dinnerwasover.TheterraceoutsidetheCataractHotelwassoftlylit.Mostoftheguestsstayingatthehotelweresittingatlittletables.
SimonandLinnetDoylecameout,atall,distinguishedlookinggrey-hairedman,withakeen,clean-shavenAmericanface,besidethem.Asthelittlegrouphesitatedinthedoorway,TimAllertonrosefromhischairnearbyandcameforward.
“Youdon’tremembermeI’msure,”hesaidpleasantlytoLinnet,“butI’mJoannaSouthwood’scousin.”
“Ofcourse—howstupidofme!You’reTimAllerton.Thisismyhusband”—afainttremorinthevoice,pride,shyness?—“andthisismyAmericantrustee,Mr.Pennington.”
Timsaid:“Youmustmeetmymother.”
Afewminuteslatertheyweresittingtogetherinaparty—Linnetinthecorner,TimandPenningtoneachsideofher,bothtalkingtoher,vyingforherattention.Mrs.AllertontalkedtoSimonDoyle.
Theswingdoorsrevolved.Asuddentensioncameintothebeautifuluprightfiguresittinginthecornerbetweenthetwomen.Thenitrelaxedasasmallmancameoutandwalkedacrosstheterrace.
Mrs.Allertonsaid:“You’renottheonlycelebrityhere,mydear.ThatfunnylittlemanisHerculePoirot.”
Shehadspokenlightly,justoutofinstinctivesocialtacttobridgeanawkwardpause,butLinnetseemedstruckbytheinformation.
“HerculePoirot?Ofcourse—I’veheardofhim….”
Sheseemedtosinkintoafitofabstraction.Thetwomenoneithersideofherweremomentarilyataloss.
Poirothadstrolledacrosstotheedgeoftheterrace,buthisattentionwasimmediatelysolicited.
“Sitdown,MonsieurPoirot.Whatalovelynight!”
Heobeyed.
“Maisoui,Madame,itisindeedbeautiful.”
HesmiledpolitelyatMrs.Otterbourne.Whatdraperiesofblackninonandthatridiculousturbaneffect!Mrs.Otterbournewentoninherhighcomplainingvoice:
“Quitealotofnotabilitiesherenow,aren’tthere?Iexpectweshallseeaparagraphaboutitinthepaperssoon.Societybeauties,famousnovelists—”
Shepausedwithaslightmock-modestlaugh.
Poirotfelt,ratherthansaw,thesulkyfrowninggirloppositehimflinchandsethermouthinasulkierlinethanbefore.
“Youhaveanovelonthewayatpresent,Madame?”heinquired.
Mrs.Otterbournegaveherlittleself-consciouslaughagain.
“I’mbeingdreadfullylazy.Ireallymustsetto.Mypublicisgettingterriblyimpatient—andmypublisher,poorman!Appealsbyeverypost!Evencables!”
Againhefeltthegirlshiftinthedarkness.
“Idon’tmindtellingyou,MonsieurPoirot,Iampartlyhereforlocalcolour.SnowontheDesert’sFace—thatisthetitleofmynewbook.Powerful—suggestive.Snow—onthedesert—meltedinthefirstflamingbreathofpassion.”
Rosaliegotup,mutteringsomething,andmovedawaydownintothedarkgarden.
“Onemustbestrong,”wentonMrs.Otterbourne,waggingtheturbanemphatically.“Strongmeat—thatiswhatmybooksare—allimportant.Librariesbanned—nomatter!Ispeakthetruth.Sex—ah!MonsieurPoirot—whyiseveryonesoafraidofsex?Thepivotoftheuniverse!Youhavereadmybooks?”
“Alas,Madame!Youcomprehend,Idonotreadmanynovels.Mywork—”
Mrs.Otterbournesaidfirmly:“ImustgiveyouacopyofUndertheFigTree.Ithinkyouwillfinditsignificant.Itisoutspoken—butitisreal!”
“Thatismostkindofyou,Madame.Iwillreaditwithpleasure.”
Mrs.Otterbournewassilentaminuteortwo.Shefidgetedwithalongchainofbeadsthatwaswoundtwiceroundherneck.Shelookedswiftlyfromsidetoside.
“Perhaps—I’lljustslipupandgetitforyounow.”
“Oh,Madame,praydonottroubleyourself.Later—”
“No,no.It’snotrouble.”Sherose.“I’dliketoshowyou—”
“Whatisit,Mother?”
Rosaliewassuddenlyatherside.
“Nothing,dear.IwasjustgoinguptogetabookforMonsieurPoirot.”
“TheFigTree?I’llgetit.”
“Youdon’tknowwhereitis,dear.I’llgo.”
“Yes,Ido.”
Thegirlwentswiftlyacrosstheterraceandintothehotel.
“Letmecongratulateyou,Madame,onaverylovelydaughter,”saidPoirot,withabow.
“Rosalie?Yes,yes—sheisgood-looking.Butshe’sveryhard,MonsieurPoirot.Andnosympathywithillness.Shealwaysthinkssheknowsbest.SheimaginessheknowsmoreaboutmyhealththanIdomyself—”
Poirotsignalledtoapassingwaiter.
“Aliqueur,Madame?Achartreuse?Acrèmedementhe?”
Mrs.Otterbourneshookherheadvigorously.
“No,no.Iampracticallyateetotaller.YoumayhavenoticedIneverdrinkanythingbutwater—orperhapslemonade.Icannotbearthetasteofspirits.”
“ThenmayIorderyoualemonsquash,Madame?”
Hegavetheorder—onelemonsquashandonebenedictine.
Theswingdoorrevolved.Rosaliepassedthroughandcametowardsthem,abookinherhand.
“Hereyouare,”shesaid.Hervoicewasquiteexpressionless—almostremarkablyso.
“MonsieurPoirothasjustorderedmealemonsquash,”saidhermother.
“Andyou,Mademoiselle,whatwillyoutake?”
“Nothing.”Sheadded,suddenlyconsciousofthecurtness:“Nothing,thankyou.”
PoirottookthevolumewhichMrs.Otterbourneheldouttohim.Itstillboreitsoriginaljacket,agailycolouredaffairrepresentingalady,withsmartlyshingledhairandscarletfingernails,sittingonatigerskin,inthetraditionalcostumeofEve.Aboveherwasatreewiththeleavesofanoak,bearinglargeandimprobablycolouredapples.
ItwasentitledUndertheFigTree,bySalomeOtterbourne.Ontheinsidewasapublisher’sblurb.Itspokeenthusiasticallyofthesuperbcourageandrealismofthisstudyofamodernwoman’slovelife.“Fearless,unconventional,realistic,”weretheadjectivesused
Poirotbowedandmurmured:“Iamhonoured,Madame.”
Asheraisedhishead,hiseyesmetthoseoftheauthoress’sdaughter.Almostinvoluntarilyhemadealittlemovement.Hewasastonishedandgrievedattheeloquentpaintheyrevealed.
Itwasatthatmomentthatthedrinksarrivedandcreatedawelcomediversion.
Poirotliftedhisglassgallantly.
“Avotresanté,Madame—Mademoiselle.”
Mrs.Otterbourne,sippingherlemonade,murmured,“Sorefreshing—delicious!”
Silencefellonthethreeofthem.TheylookeddowntotheshiningblackrocksintheNile.Therewassomethingfantasticabouttheminthemoonlight.Theywerelikevastprehistoricmonsterslyinghalfoutofthewater.Alittlebreezecameupsuddenlyandassuddenlydiedaway.Therewasafeelingintheairofhush—ofexpectancy.
HerculePoirotbroughthisgazebacktotheterraceanditsoccupants.Washewrong,orwastherethesamehushofexpectancythere?Itwaslikeamomentonthestagewhenoneiswaitingfortheentranceoftheleadinglady.
Andjustatthatmomenttheswingdoorsbegantorevolveoncemore.Thistimeitseemedasthoughtheydidsowithaspecialairofimportance.Everyonehadstoppedtalkingandwaslookingtowardsthem.
Adarkslendergirlinawine-colouredeveningfrockcamethrough.Shepausedforaminute,thenwalkeddeliberatelyacrosstheterraceandsatdownatanemptytable.Therewasnothingflaunting,nothingoutofthewayaboutherdemeanour,andyetithadsomehowthestudiedeffectofastageentrance.
“Well,”saidMrs.Otterbourne.Shetossedherturbanedhead.“Sheseemstothinksheissomebody,thatgirl!”
Poirotdidnotanswer.Hewaswatching.ThegirlhadsatdowninaplacewhereshecouldlookdeliberatelyacrossatLinnetDoyle.Presently,Poirotnoticed,LinnetDoyleleantforwardandsaidsomethingandamomentlatergotupandchangedherseat.Shewasnowsittingfacingintheoppositedirection.
Poirotnoddedthoughtfullytohimself.
Itwasaboutfiveminuteslaterthattheothergirlchangedherseattotheoppositesideoftheterrace.Shesatsmokingandsmilingquietly,thepictureofcontentedease.Butalways,asthoughunconsciously,hermeditativegazewasonSimonDoyle’swife.
AfteraquarterofanhourLinnetDoylegotupabruptlyandwentintothehotel.Herhusbandfollowedheralmostimmediately.
JacquelinedeBellefortsmiledandtwistedherchairround.ShelitacigaretteandstaredoutovertheNile.Shewentonsmilingtoherself.
Four
“MonsieurPoirot.”
Poirotgothastilytohisfeet.Hehadremainedsittingoutontheterracealoneaftereveryoneelsehadleft.Lostinmeditationhehadbeenstaringatthesmoothshinyblackrockswhenthesoundofhisnamerecalledhimtohimself.
Itwasawell-bred,assuredvoice,acharmingvoice,althoughperhapsatriflearrogant.
HerculePoirot,risingquickly,lookedintothecommandingeyesofLinnetDoyle.SheworeawrapofrichpurplevelvetoverherwhitesatingownandshelookedmorelovelyandmoreregalthanPoirothadimaginedpossible.
“YouareMonsieurHerculePoirot?”saidLinnet.
Itwashardlyaquestion.
“Atyourservice,Madame.”
“YouknowwhoIam,perhaps?”
“Yes,Madame.Ihaveheardyourname.Iknowexactlywhoyouare.”
Linnetnodded.Thatwasonlywhatshehadexpected.Shewenton,inhercharmingautocraticmanner:“Willyoucomewithmeintothecardroom,MonsieurPoirot?Iamveryanxioustospeaktoyou.”
“Certainly,Madame.”
Sheledthewayintothehotel.Hefollowed.Sheledhimintothedesertedcardroomandmotionedhimtoclosethedoor.Thenshesankdownonachairatoneofthetablesandhesatdownoppositeher.
Sheplungedstraightawayintowhatshewantedtosay.Therewerenohesitations.Herspeechcameflowingly.
“Ihaveheardagreatdealaboutyou,MonsieurPoirot,andIknowthatyouareaverycleverman.IthappensthatIamurgentlyinneedofsomeonetohelpme—andIthinkverypossiblythatyouarethemanwhowoulddoit.”
Poirotinclinedhishead.
“Youareveryamiable,Madame,butyousee,Iamonholiday,andwhenIamonholidayIdonottakecases.”
“Thatcouldbearranged.”
Itwasnotoffensivelysaid—onlywiththequietconfidenceofayoungwomanwhohadalwaysbeenabletoarrangematterstohersatisfaction.
LinnetDoylewenton:“Iamthesubject,MonsieurPoirot,ofanintolerablepersecution.Thatpersecutionhasgottostop!Myownideawastogotothepoliceaboutit,butmy—myhusbandseemstothinkthatthepolicewouldbepowerlesstodoanything.”
“Perhaps—ifyouwouldexplainalittlefurther?”murmuredPoirotpolitely.
“Oh,yes,Iwilldoso.Thematterisperfectlysimple.”
Therewasstillnohesitation—nofaltering.LinnetDoylehadaclear-cutbusinesslikemind.Sheonlypausedaminutesoastopresentthefactsasconciselyaspossible.
“BeforeImetmyhusband,hewasengagedtoaMissdeBellefort.Shewasalsoafriendofmine.Myhusbandbrokeoffhisengagementtoher—theywerenotsuitedinanyway.She,Iamsorrytosay,tookitratherhard…I—amverysorryaboutthat—butthesethingscannotbehelped.Shemadecertain—well,threats—towhichIpaidverylittleattention,andwhich,Imaysay,shehasnotattemptedtocarryout.Butinsteadshehasadoptedtheextraordinarycourseof—offollowingusaboutwhereverwego.”
Poirotraisedhiseyebrows.
“Ah—ratheranunusual—er—revenge.”
“Veryunusual—andveryridiculous!Butalso—annoying.”
Shebitherlip.
Poirotnodded.
“Yes,Icanimaginethat.Youare,Iunderstand,onyourhoneymoon?”
“Yes.Ithappened—thefirsttime—atVenice.Shewasthere—atDanielli’s.Ithoughtitwasjustcoincidence.Ratherembarrassing,butthatwasall.ThenwefoundheronboardtheboatatBrindisi.We—weunderstoodthatshewasgoingontoPalestine.Welefther,aswethought,ontheboat.But—butwhenwegottoMenaHouseshewasthere—waitingforus.”
Poirotnodded.
“Andnow?”
“WecameuptheNilebyboat.I—Iwashalfexpectingtofindheronboard.Whenshewasn’tthereIthoughtshehadstoppedbeingso—sochildish.Butwhenwegothere—she—shewashere—waiting.”
Poiroteyedherkeenlyforamoment.Shewasstillperfectlycomposed,buttheknucklesofthehandthatwasgrippingthetablewerewhitewiththeforceofhergrip.
Hesaid:“Andyouareafraidthisstateofthingsmaycontinue?”
“Yes.”Shepaused.“Ofcoursethewholethingisidiotic!Jacquelineismakingherselfutterlyridiculous.Iamsurprisedshehasn’tgotmorepride—moredignity.”
Poirotmadeaslightgesture.
“Therearetimes,Madame,whenprideanddignity—theygobytheboard!Thereareother—strongeremotions.”
“Yes,possibly.”Linnetspokeimpatiently.“Butwhatonearthcanshehopetogainbyallthis?”
“Itisnotalwaysaquestionofgain,Madame.”
SomethinginhistonestruckLinnetdisagreeably.Sheflushedandsaidquickly:“Youareright.Adiscussionofmotivesisbesidethepoint.Thecruxofthematteristhatthishasgottobestopped.”
“Andhowdoyouproposethatthatshouldbeaccomplished,Madame?”Poirotasked.
“Well—naturally—myhusbandandIcannotcontinuebeingsubjectedtothisannoyance.Theremustbesomekindoflegalredressagainstsuchathing.”
Shespokeimpatiently.Poirotlookedatherthoughtfullyasheasked:“Hasshethreatenedyouinactualwordsinpublic?Usedinsultinglanguage?Attemptedanybodilyharm?”
“No.”
“Then,frankly,Madame,Idonotseewhatyoucando.Ifitisayounglady’spleasuretotravelincertainplaces,andthoseplacesarethesamewhereyouandyourhusbandfindthemselves—ehbien—whatofit?Theairisfreetoall!Thereisnoquestionofherforcingherselfuponyourprivacy?Itisalwaysinpublicthattheseencounterstakeplace?”
“YoumeanthereisnothingthatIcandoaboutit?”
Linnetsoundedincredulous.
Poirotsaidplacidly:“Nothingatall,asfarasIcansee.MademoiselledeBellefortiswithinherrights.”
“But—butitismaddening!ItisintolerablethatIshouldhavetoputupwiththis!”
Poirotsaiddryly:“Imustsympathizewithyou,Madame—especiallyasIimaginethatyouhavenotoftenhadtoputupwiththings.”
Linnetwasfrowning.
“Theremustbesomewayofstoppingit,”shemurmured.
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Youcanalwaysleave—moveonsomewhereelse,”hesuggested.
“Thenshewillfollow!”
“Verypossibly—yes.”
“It’sabsurd!”
“Precisely.”
“Anyway,whyshouldI—we—runaway?Asthough—asthough—”
Shestopped.
“Exactly,Madame.Asthough—!Itisallthere,isitnot?”
Linnetliftedherheadandstaredathim.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
Poirotalteredhistone.Heleantforward;hisvoicewasconfidential,appealing.Hesaidverygently:“Whydoyoumindsomuch,Madame?”
“Why?Butit’smaddening!Irritatingtothelastdegree!I’vetoldyouwhy!”
Poirotshookhishead.
“Notaltogether.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”Linnetaskedagain.
Poirotleantback,foldedhisarmsandspokeinadetachedimpersonalmanner.
“Ecoutez,Madame.Iwillrecounttoyoualittlehistory.Itisthatoneday,amonthortwoago,IamdininginarestaurantinLondon.Atthetablenexttomearetwopeople,amanandagirl.Theyareveryhappy,soitseems,verymuchinlove.Theytalkwithconfidenceofthefuture.ItisnotthatIlistentowhatisnotmeantforme;theyarequiteobliviousofwhohearsthemandwhodoesnot.Theman’sbackistome,butIcanwatchthegirl’sface.Itisveryintense.Sheisinlove—heart,soul,andbody—andsheisnotofthosewholovelightlyandoften.Withheritisclearlythelifeandthedeath.Theyareengagedtobemarried,thesetwo;thatiswhatIgather;andtheytalkofwheretheyshallpassthedaysoftheirhoneymoon.TheyplantogotoEgypt.”
Hepaused.Linnetsaidsharply:“Well?”
Poirotwenton:“Thatisamonthortwoago,butthegirl’sface—Idonotforgetit.IknowthatIshallrememberifIseeitagain.AndIremembertootheman’svoice.AndIthinkyoucanguess,Madame,whenitisIseetheoneandheartheotheragain.ItishereinEgypt.Themanisonhishoneymoon,yes—butheisonhishoneymoonwithanotherwoman.”
Linnetsaidsharply:“Whatofit?Ihadalreadymentionedthefacts.”
“Thefacts—yes.”
“Wellthen?”
Poirotsaidslowly:“Thegirlintherestaurantmentionedafriend—afriendwho,shewasverypositive,wouldnotletherdown.Thatfriend,Ithink,wasyou,Madame.”
“Yes.Itoldyouwehadbeenfriends.”
Linnetflushed.
“Andshetrustedyou?”
“Yes.”
Shehesitatedforamoment,bitingherlipimpatiently;then,asPoirotdidnotseemdisposedtospeak,shebrokeout:
“Ofcoursethewholethingwasveryunfortunate.Butthesethingshappen,MonsieurPoirot.”
“Ah!Yes,theyhappen,Madame.”Hepaused.“YouareoftheChurchofEngland,Ipresume?”
“Yes.”Linnetlookedslightlybewildered.
“ThenyouhaveheardportionsoftheBiblereadaloudinchurch.YouhaveheardofKingDavidandoftherichmanwhohadmanyflocksandherdsandthepoormanwhohadoneewelamb—andofhowtherichmantookthepoorman’soneewelamb.Thatwassomethingthathappened,Madame.”
Linnetsatup.Hereyesflashedangrily
“Iseeperfectlywhatyouaredrivingat,MonsieurPoirot!Youthink,toputitvulgarly,thatIstolemyfriend’syoungman.Lookingatthemattersentimentally—whichis,Isuppose,thewaypeopleofyourgenerationcannothelplookingatthings—thatispossiblytrue.Buttherealhardtruthisdifferent.Idon’tdenythatJackiewaspassionatelyinlovewithSimon,butIdon’tthinkyoutakeintoaccountthathemaynothavebeenequallydevotedtoher.Hewasveryfondofher,butIthinkthatevenbeforehemetmehewasbeginningtofeelthathehadmadeamistake.Lookatitclearly,MonsieurPoirot.SimondiscoversthatitisIheloves,notJackie.Whatishetodo?Beheroicallynobleandmarryawomanhedoesnotcarefor—andtherebyprobablyruinthreelives—foritisdoubtfulwhetherhecouldmakeJackiehappyunderthosecircumstances?IfhewereactuallymarriedtoherwhenhemetmeIagreethatitmightbehisdutytosticktoher—thoughI’mnotreallysureofthat.Ifonepersonisunhappytheothersufferstoo.Butanengagementisnotreallybinding.Ifamistakehasbeenmade,thensurelyitisbettertofacethefactbeforeitistoolate.IadmitthatitwasveryhardonJackie,andI’mverysorryaboutit—butthereitis.Itwasinevitable.”
“Iwonder.”
Shestaredathim.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Itisverysensible,verylogical—allthatyousay!Butitdoesnotexplainonething.”
“Whatisthat?”
“Yourownattitude,Madame.Seeyou,thispursuitofyou,youmighttakeitintwoways,Itmightcauseyouannoyance—yes,oritmightstiryourpity—thatyourfriendshouldhavebeensodeeplyhurtastothrowallregardfortheconventionsaside.Butthatisnotthewayyoureact.No,toyouthispersecutionisintolerable—andwhy?Itcanbeforonereasononly—thatyoufeelasenseofguilt.”
Linnetsprangtoherfeet.
“Howdareyou?Really,MonsieurPoirot,thisisgoingtoofar.”
“ButIdodare,Madame!Iamgoingtospeaktoyouquitefrankly.Isuggesttoyouthat,althoughyoumayhaveendeavouredtoglossoverthefacttoyourself,youdiddeliberatelysetabouttakingyourhusbandfromyourfriend.Isuggestthatyoufeltstronglyattractedtohimatonce.ButIsuggestthattherewasamomentwhenyouhesitated,whenyourealizedthattherewasachoice—thatyoucouldrefrainorgoon.Isuggestthattheinitiativerestedwithyou—notwithMonsieurDoyle.Youarebeautiful,Madame;youarerich;youareclever;intelligent—andyouhavecharm.Youcouldhaveexercisedthatcharmoryoucouldhaverestrainedit.Youhadeverything,Madame,thatlifecanoffer.Yourfriend’slifewasboundupinoneperson.Youknewthat,but,thoughyouhesitated,youdidnotholdyourhand
Therewasasilence.Linnetcontrolledherselfwithaneffortandsaidinacoldvoice:“Allthisisquitebesidethepoint!”
“No,itisnotbesidethepoint.IamexplainingtoyoujustwhytheunexpectedappearancesofMademoiselledeBelleforthaveupsetyousomuch.Itisbecausethoughshemaybeunwomanlyandundignifiedinwhatsheisdoing,youhavetheinnerconvictionthatshehasrightonherside.”
“That’snottrue.”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Yourefusetobehonestwithyourself.”
“Notatall.”
Poirotsaidgently:“Ishouldsay,Madame,thatyouhavehadahappylife,thatyouhavebeengenerousandkindlyinyourattitudetowardsothers.”
“Ihavetriedtobe,”saidLinnet.Theimpatientangerdiedoutofherface.Shespokesimply—almostforlornly.
“Andthatiswhythefeelingthatyouhavedeliberatelycausedinjurytosomeoneupsetsyousomuch,andwhyyouaresoreluctanttoadmitthefact.PardonmeifIhavebeenimpertinent,butthepsychology,itisthemostimportantfactinacase.”
Linnetsaidslowly:“Evensupposingwhatyousayweretrue—andIdon’tadmitit,mind—whatcanbedoneaboutitnow?Onecan’talterthepast;onemustdealwiththingsastheyare.”
Poirotnodded.
“Youhavetheclearbrain.Yes,onecannotgobackoverthepast.Onemustacceptthingsastheyare.Andsometimes,Madame,thatisallonecando—accepttheconsequencesofone’spastdeeds.”
“Youmean,”askedLinnetincredulously,“thatIcandonothing—nothing?”
“Youmusthavecourage,Madame;thatiswhatitseemsliketome.”
Linnetsaidslowly:
“Couldn’tyou—talktoJackie—toMissdeBellefort?Reasonwithher?”
“Yes,Icoulddothat.Iwilldothatifyouwouldlikemetodoso.Butdonotexpectmuchresult.IfancythatMademoiselledeBellefortissomuchinthegripofafixedideathatnothingwillturnherfromit.”
“Butsurelywecandosomethingtoextricateourselves?”
“Youcould,ofcourse,returntoEnglandandestablishyourselvesinyourownhouse.”
“Eventhen,Isuppose,Jacquelineiscapableofplantingherselfinthevillage,sothatIshouldseehereverytimeIwentoutofthegrounds.”
“True.”
“Besides,”saidLinnetslowly,“Idon’tthinkthatSimonwouldagreetorunaway.”
“Whatishisattitudeinthis?”
“He’sfurious—simplyfurious.”
Poirotnoddedthoughtfully.
Linnetsaidappealingly,“Youwill—talktoher?”
“Yes,Iwilldothat.ButitismyopinionthatIshallnotbeabletoaccomplishanything.”
Linnetsaidviolently:“Jackieisextraordinary!Onecan’ttellwhatshewilldo!”
“Youspokejustnowofcertainthreatsshehadmade.Wouldyoutellmewhatthosethreatswere?”
Linnetshruggedhershoulders.
“Shethreatenedto—well—killusboth.Jackiecanberather—Latinsometimes.”
“Isee.”Poirot’stonewasgrave.
Linnetturnedtohimappealingly.
“Youwillactforme?”
“No,Madame.”Histonewasfirm.“Iwillnotacceptacommissionfromyou.IwilldowhatIcanintheinterestsofhumanity.That,yes.Thereishereasituationthatisfullofdifficultyanddanger.IwilldowhatIcantoclearitup—butIamnotverysanguineastomychanceofsuccess.”
LinnetDoylesaidslowly:“Butyouwillnotactforme?”
“No,Madame,”saidHerculePoirot.
Five
HerculePoirotfoundJacquelinedeBellefortsittingontherocksdirectlyoverlookingtheNile.Hehadfeltfairlycertainthatshehadnotretiredforthenightandthathewouldfindhersomewhereaboutthegroundsofthehotel.
Shewassittingwithherchincuppedinthepalmsofherhands,andshedidnotturnherheadorlookaroundatthesoundofhisapproach.
“MademoiselledeBellefort?”askedPoirot.“YoupermitthatIspeaktoyouforalittlemoment?”
Jacquelineturnedherheadslightly.Afaintsmileplayedroundherlips.
“Certainly,”shesaid.“YouareMonsieurHerculePoirot,Ithink?ShallImakeaguess?YouareactingforMrs.Doyle,whohaspromisedyoualargefeeifyousucceedinyourmission.”
Poirotsatdownonthebenchnearher.
“Yourassumptionispartiallycorrect,”hesaid,smiling.“IhavejustcomefromMadameDoyle,butIamnotacceptinganyfeefromherand,strictlyspeaking,Iamnotactingforher.”
“Oh!”
Jacquelinestudiedhimattentively.
“Thenwhyhaveyoucome?”sheaskedabruptly.
HerculePoirot’sreplywasintheformofanotherquestion.
“Haveyoueverseenmebefore,Mademoiselle?”
Sheshookherhead.
“No,Idonotthinkso.”
“YetIhaveseenyou.IsatnexttoyouonceatChezMaTante.YouweretherewithMonsieurSimonDoyle.”
Astrangemasklikeexpressioncameoverthegirl’sface.Shesaid,“Irememberthatevening….”
“Sincethen,”saidPoirot,“manythingshaveoccurred.”
“Asyousay,manythingshaveoccurred.”
Hervoicewashardwithanundertoneofdesperatebitterness.
“Mademoiselle,Ispeakasafriend.Buryyourdead!”
Shelookedstartled.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Giveupthepast!Turntothefuture!Whatisdoneisdone.Bitternesswillnotundoit.”
“I’msurethatthatwouldsuitdearLinnetadmirably.”
Poirotmadeagesture.
“Iamnotthinkingofheratthismoment!Iamthinkingofyou.Youhavesuffered—yes—butwhatyouaredoingnowwillonlyprolongthesuffering.”
Sheshookherhead.
“You’rewrong.TherearetimeswhenIalmostenjoymyself.”
“Andthat,Mademoiselle,istheworstofall.”
Shelookedupswiftly.
“You’renotstupid,”shesaid.Sheaddedslowly,“Ibelieveyoumeantobekind.”
“Gohome,Mademoiselle.Youareyoung;youhavebrains,theworldisbeforeyou.”
Jacquelineshookherheadslowly.
“Youdon’tunderstand—oryouwon’t.Simonismyworld.”
“Loveisnoteverything,Mademoiselle,”Poirotsaidgently.“Itisonlywhenweareyoungthatwethinkitis.”
Butthegirlstillshookherhead.
“Youdon’tunderstand.”Sheshothimaquicklook.“Youknowallaboutit,ofcourse?You’vetalkedtoLinnet?Andyouwereintherestaurantthatnight…SimonandIlovedeachother.”
“Iknowthatyoulovedhim.”
Shewasquicktoperceivetheinflectionofhiswords.Sherepeatedwithemphasis:
“Welovedeachother.AndIlovedLinnet…Itrustedher.Shewasmybestfriend.AllherlifeLinnethasbeenabletobuyeverythingshewanted.She’sneverdeniedherselfanything.WhenshesawSimonshewantedhim—andshejusttookhim.”
“Andheallowedhimselftobe—bought?”
Jacquelineshookherdarkheadslowly.
“No,it’snotquitelikethat.Ifitwere,Ishouldn’tbeherenow…You’resuggestingthatSimonisn’tworthcaringfor…Ifhe’dmarriedLinnetforhermoney,thatwouldbetrue.Buthedidn’tmarryherforhermoney.It’smorecomplicatedthanthat.There’ssuchathingasglamour,MonsieurPoirot.Andmoneyhelpsthat.Linnethadan‘atmosphere,’yousee.Shewasthequeenofakingdom—theyoungprincess—luxurioustoherfingertips.Itwaslikeastagesetting.Shehadtheworldatherfeet,oneoftherichestandmostsought-afterpeersinEnglandwantingtomarryher.AndshestoopsinsteadtotheobscureSimonDoyle…Doyouwonderitwenttohishead?”Shemadeasuddengesture.“Lookatthemoonupthere.Youseeherveryplainly,don’tyou?She’sveryreal.Butifthesunweretoshineyouwouldn’tbeabletoseeheratall.Itwasratherlikethat.Iwasthemoon…Whenthesuncameout,Simoncouldn’tseemeanymore…Hewasdazzled.Hecouldn’tseeanythingbutthesun—Linnet.”
Shepausedandthenshewenton:“Soyouseeitwas—glamour.Shewenttohishead.Andthenthere’shercompleteassurance—herhabitofcommand.She’ssosureofherselfthatshemakesotherpeoplesure.Simonwasweak,perhaps,butthenhe’saverysimpleperson.HewouldhavelovedmeandmeonlyifLinnethadn’tcomealongandsnatchedhimupinhergoldenchariot.AndIknow—Iknowperfectly—thathewouldn’teverhavefalleninlovewithherifshehadn’tmadehim.”
“Thatiswhatyouthink—yes.”
“Iknowit.Helovedme—hewillalwaysloveme.”
Poirotsaid:“Evennow?”
Aquickanswerseemedtorisetoherlips,thenbestifled.ShelookedatPoirotandadeepburningcolourspreadoverherface.Shelookedaway;herheaddroppeddown.Shesaidinalowstifledvoice:“Yes,Iknow.Hehatesmenow.Yes,hatesme…He’dbetterbecareful!”
Withaquickgestureshefumbledinalittlesilkbagthatlayontheseat.Thensheheldoutherhand.Onthepalmofitwasasmallpearl-handledpistol—adaintytoyitlooked.
“Nicelittlething,isn’tit?shesaid.“Lookstoofoolishtobereal,butitisreal!Oneofthosebulletswouldkillamanorawoman.AndI’magoodshot.”Shesmiledafaraway,reminiscentsmile.
“WhenIwenthomeasachildwithmymother,toSouthCarolina,mygrandfathertaughtmetoshoot.Hewastheold-fashionedkindthatbelievesinshooting—especiallywherehonourisconcerned.Myfather,too,hefoughtseveralduelsasayoungman.Hewasagoodswordsman.Hekilledamanonce.Thatwasoverawoman.Soyousee,MonsieurPoirot”—shemethiseyessquarely—“I’vehotbloodinme!Iboughtthiswhenitfirsthappened.Imeanttokilloneorotherofthem—thetroublewasIcouldn’tdecidewhich.Bothofthemwouldhavebeenunsatisfactory.IfI’dthoughtLinnetwouldhavelookedafraid—butshe’sgotplentyofphysicalcourage.Shecanstanduptophysicalaction.AndthenIthoughtI’d—wait!Thatappealedtomemoreandmore.Afterall,Icoulddoitanytime;itwouldbemorefuntowaitand—thinkaboutit!Andthenthisideacametomymind—tofollowthem!Whenevertheyarrivedatsomefarawayspotandweretogetherandhappy,theyshouldseeMe!Anditworked.ItgotLinnetbadly—inawaynothingelsecouldhavedone!Itgotrightunderherskin…ThatwaswhenIbegantoenjoymyself…Andthere’snothingshecandoaboutit!I’malwaysperfectlypleasantandpolite!There’snotawordtheycantakeholdof!It’spoisoningeverything—everything—forthem.”Herlaughrangout,clearandsilvery
Poirotgraspedherarm.
“Bequiet.Quiet,Itellyou.”
Jacquelinelookedathim.
“Well?”sheasked.Hersmilewasdefinitelychallenging.
“Mademoiselle,Ibeseechyou,donotdowhatyouaredoing.”
“LeavedearLinnetalone,youmean!”
“Itisdeeperthanthat.Donotopenyourhearttoevil.”
Herlipsfellapart;alookofbewildermentcameintohereyes.
Poirotwentongravely:“Because—ifyoudo—evilwillcome…Yes,verysurelyevilwillcome…Itwillenterinandmakeitshomewithinyou,andafteralittlewhileitwillnolongerbepossibletodriveitout.”
Jacquelinestaredathim.Herglanceseemedtowaver,toflickeruncertainly.
Shesaid:“I—don’tknow—”Thenshecriedoutdefinitely,“Youcan’tstopme.”
“No,”saidHerculePoirot.“Icannotstopyou.”Hisvoicewassad.
“EvenifIwereto—killher,youcouldn’tstopme.”
“No—notifyouwerewillingtopaytheprice.”
JacquelinedeBellefortlaughed.
“Oh,I’mnotafraidofdeath!WhathaveIgottolivefor,afterall?Isupposeyoubelieveit’sverywrongtokillapersonwhohasinjuredyou—evenifthey’vetakenawayeverythingyouhadintheworld?”
Poirotsaidsteadily:“Yes,Mademoiselle.Ibelieveitistheunforgivableoffence—tokill.”
Jacquelinelaughedagain.
“Thenyououghttoapproveofmypresentschemeofrevenge;because,yousee,aslongasitworks,Ishan’tusethatpistol…ButI’mafraid—yes,afraidsometimes—itallgoesred—Iwanttohurther—tostickaknifeintoher,toputmydearlittlepistolcloseagainstherheadandthen—justpresswithmyfinger—Oh!”
Theexclamationstartledhim.
“Whatisit,Mademoiselle!”
Sheturnedherheadandwasstaringintotheshadows.
“Someone—standingoverthere.He’sgonenow.”
HerculePoirotlookedroundsharply.
Theplaceseemedquitedeserted.
“Thereseemsnooneherebutourselves,Mademoiselle.”Hegotup.“InanycaseIhavesaidallIcametosay.Iwishyougoodnight.”
Jacquelinegotuptoo.Shesaidalmostpleadingly,“Youdounderstand—thatIcan’tdowhatyouaskmetodo?”
Poirotshookhishead.
“No—foryoucoulddoit!Thereisalwaysamoment!YourfriendLinnet—therewasamoment,too,inwhichshecouldhaveheldherhand…Sheletitpassby.Andifonedoesthat,thenoneiscommittedtotheenterpriseandtherecomesnosecondchance.”
“Nosecondchance…”saidJacquelinedeBellefort.
Shestoodbroodingforamoment;thensheliftedherheaddefiantly.
“Goodnight,MonsieurPoirot.”
Heshookhisheadsadlyandfollowedherupthepathtothehotel.
Six
OnthefollowingmorningSimonDoylejoinedHerculePoirotasthelatterwasleavingthehoteltowalkdowntothetown.
“Goodmorning,MonsieurPoirot.”
“Goodmorning,MonsieurDoyle.”
“Yougoingtothetown?MindifIstrollalongwithyou?”
“Butcertainly.Ishallbedelighted.”
Thetwomenwalkedsidebyside,passedoutthroughthegatewayandturnedintothecoolshadeofthegardens.ThenSimonremovedhispipefromhismouthandsaid,“Iunderstand,MonsieurPoirot,thatmywifehadatalkwithyoulastnight?”
“Thatisso.”
SimonDoylewasfrowningalittle.Hebelongedtothattypeofmenofactionwhofinditdifficulttoputthoughtsintowordsandwhohavetroubleinexpressingthemselvesclearly.
“I’mgladofonething,”hesaid.“You’vemadeherrealizethatwe’remoreorlesspowerlessinthematter.”
“Thereisclearlynolegalredress,”agreedPoirot.
“Exactly.Linnetdidn’tseemtounderstandthat.”Hegaveafaintsmile.“Linnet’sbeenbroughtuptobelievethateveryannoyancecanautomaticallybereferredtothepolice.”
“Itwouldbepleasantifsuchwerethecase,”saidPoirot.
Therewasapause.ThenSimonsaidsuddenly,hisfacegoingveryredashespoke:
“It’s—it’sinfamousthatsheshouldbevictimizedlikethis!She’sdonenothing!IfanyonelikestosayIbehavedlikeacad,they’rewelcometosayso!IsupposeIdid.ButIwon’thavethewholethingvisitedonLinnet.Shehadnothingwhatevertodowithit.”
Poirotbowedhisheadgravelybutsaidnothing.
“Didyou—er—haveyou—talkedtoJackie—MissdeBellefort?”
“Yes,Ihavespokenwithher.”
“Didyougethertoseesense?”
“I’mafraidnot.”
Simonbrokeoutirritably:“Can’tsheseewhatanassshe’smakingofherself?Doesn’tsherealizethatnodecentwomanwouldbehaveassheisdoing?Hasn’tshegotanyprideorself-respect?”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Shehasonlyasenseof—injury,shallwesay?”hereplied.
“Yes,butdamnitall,man,decentgirlsdon’tbehavelikethis!IadmitIwasentirelytoblame.Itreatedherdamnedbadlyandallthat.Ishouldquiteunderstandherbeingthoroughlyfedupwithmeandneverwishingtoseemeagain.Butthisfollowingmeround—it’s—it’sindecent!Makingashowofherself!Whatthedevildoesshehopetogetoutofit?”
“Perhaps—revenge!”
“Idiotic!I’dreallyunderstandbetterifshe’dtriedtodosomethingmelodramatic—liketakingapotshotatme.”
“Youthinkthatwouldbemorelikeher—yes?”
“FranklyIdo.She’shot-blooded—andshe’sgotanungovernabletemper.Ishouldn’tbesurprisedatherdoinganythingwhileshewasinawhite-hotrage.Butthisspyingbusiness—”Heshookhishead.
“Itismoresubtle—yes!Itisintelligent!”
Doylestaredathim.
“Youdon’tunderstand.It’splayinghellwithLinnet’snerves.”
“Andyours?”
Simonlookedathimwithmomentarysurprise.
“Me?I’dliketowringthelittledevil’sneck.”
“Thereisnothing,then,oftheoldfeelingleft?”
“MydearMonsieurPoirot—howcanIputit?It’slikethemoonwhenthesuncomesout.Youdon’tknowit’sthereanymore.WhenonceI’dmetLinnet—Jackiedidn’texist.”
“Tiens,c’estdr?le,?a!”mutteredPoirot.
“Ibegyourpardon?”
“Yoursimileinterestedme,thatisall.”
Againflushing,Simonsaid:“IsupposeJackietoldyouthatI’donlymarriedLinnetforhermoney?Well,that’sadamnedlie!Iwouldn’tmarryanywomanformoney!WhatJackiedoesn’tunderstandisthatit’sdifficultforafellowwhen—when—awomancaresforhimasshecaredforme.”
“Ah?”
Poirotlookedupsharply.
Simonblunderedon:“It—it—soundsacaddishthingtosay,butJackiewastoofondofme!”
“Unequiaimeetunquiselaisseaimer,”murmuredPoirot.
“Eh?What’sthatyousay?Yousee,amandoesn’twanttofeelthatawomancaresmoreforhimthanhedoesforher.”Hisvoicegrewwarmashewenton.“Hedoesn’twanttofeelowned,bodyandsoul.It’sthedamnedpossessiveattitude!Thismanismine—hebelongstome!That’sthesortofthingIcan’tstick—nomancouldstick!Hewantstogetaway—togetfree.Hewantstoownhiswoman;hedoesn’twanthertoownhim.”
Hebrokeoff,andwithfingersthattrembledslightlyhelitacigarette.
Poirotsaid:“AnditislikethatthatyoufeltwithMademoiselleJacqueline?”
“Eh?”Simonstaredandthenadmitted:“Er—yes—well,yes,asamatteroffactIdid.Shedoesn’trealizethat,ofcourse.Andit’snotthesortofthingIcouldevertellher.ButIwasfeelingrestless—andthenImetLinnet,andshejustsweptmeoffmyfeet!I’dneverseenanythingsolovely.Itwasallsoamazing.Everyonekowtowingtoher—andthenhersinglingoutapoorchumplikeme.”
Histoneheldboyishaweandastonishment.
“Isee,”saidPoirot.Henoddedthoughtfully.“Yes—Isee.”
“Whycan’tJackietakeitlikeaman?”demandedSimonresentfully.
AveryfaintsmiletwitchedPoirot’supperlip.
“Well,yousee,MonsieurDoyle,tobeginwithsheisnotaman.”
“No,no—butImeanttakeitlikeagoodsport!Afterall,you’vegottotakeyourmedicinewhenitcomestoyou.Thefault’smine,Iadmit.Butthereitis!Ifyounolongercareforagirl,it’ssimplymadnesstomarryher.And,nowthatIseewhatJackie’sreallylikeandthelengthssheislikelytogoto,IfeelI’vehadratheraluckyescape.”
“Thelengthssheislikelytogoto,”Poirotrepeatedthoughtfully.“Haveyouanidea,MonsieurDoyle,whatthoselengthsare?”
Simonlookedathimratherstartled.
“No—atleast,whatdoyoumean?”
“Youknowshecarriesapistolaboutwithher?”
Simonfrowned,thenshookhishead.
“Idon’tbelieveshe’llusethat—now.Shemighthavedonesoearlier.ButIbelieveit’sgotpastthat.She’sjustspitefulnow—tryingtotakeitoutonusboth.”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Itmaybeso,”hesaiddoubtfully.
“It’sLinnetI’mworryingabout,”declaredSimon,somewhatunnecessarily.
“Iquiterealizethat,”saidPoirot.
“I’mnotreallyafraidofJackiedoinganymelodramaticshootingstuff,butthisspyingandfollowingbusinesshasabsolutelygotLinnetontheraw.I’lltellyoutheplanI’vemade,andperhapsyoucansuggestimprovementsonit.Tobeginwith,I’veannouncedfairlyopenlythatwe’regoingtostayheretendays.ButtomorrowthesteamerKarnakstartsfromShellaltoWadiHalfa.Iproposetobookpassagesonthatunderanassumedname.Tomorrowwe’llgoonanexcursiontoPhilae.Linnet’smaidcantaketheluggage.We’lljointheKarnakatShellal.WhenJackiefindswedon’tcomeback,itwillbetoolate—weshallbewellonourway.She’llassumewehavegivenhertheslipandgonebacktoCairo.InfactImightevenbribetheportertosayso.Inquiryatthetouristofficeswon’thelpher,becauseournameswon’tappear.Howdoesthatstrikeyou?”
“Itiswellimagined,yes.Andsupposeshewaitsheretillyoureturn?”
“Wemaynotreturn.WewouldgoontoKhartoumandthenperhapsbyairtoKenya.Shecan’tfollowusallovertheglobe.”
“No;theremustcomeatimewhenfinancialreasonsforbid.Shehasverylittlemoney,Iunderstand.”
Simonlookedathimwithadmiration.
“That’scleverofyou.Doyouknow,Ihadn’tthoughtofthat.Jackie’saspoorastheymakethem.”
“Andyetshehasmanagedtofollowyousofar?”
Simonsaiddoubtfully:
“She’sgotasmallincome,ofcourse.Somethingundertwohundredayear,Iimagine.Isuppose—yes,Isupposeshemusthavesoldoutthecapitaltodowhatshe’sdoing.”
“Sothatthetimewillcomewhenshehasexhaustedherresourcesandisquitepenniless?”
“Yes….”
Simonwriggleduneasily.Thethoughtseemedtomakehimuncomfortable.Poirotwatchedhimattentively.
“No,”heremarked.“No,itisnotaprettythought….”
Simonsaidratherangrily,“Well,Ican’thelpit!”Thenheadded,“Whatdoyouthinkofmyplan?”
“Ithinkitmaywork,yes.Butitis,ofcourse,aretreat.”
Simonflushed.
“Youmean,we’rerunningaway?Yes,that’strue…ButLinnet—”
Poirotwatchedhim,thengaveashortnod.
“Asyousay,itmaybethebestway.Butremember,MademoiselledeBelleforthasbrains.”
Simonsaidsombrely:“Someday,Ifeel,we’vegottomakeastandandfightitout.Herattitudeisn’treasonable.”
“Reasonable,monDieu!”criedPoirot.
“There’snoreasonwhywomenshouldn’tbehavelikerationalbeings,”Simonassertedstolidly.
Poirotsaiddryly:“Quitefrequentlytheydo.Thatisevenmoreupsetting!”Headded,“I,too,shallbeontheKarnak.Itispartofmyitinerary.
“Oh!”Simonhesitated,thensaid,choosinghiswordswithsomeembarrassment:“Thatisn’t—isn’t—er—onouraccountinanyway?ImeanIwouldn’tliketothink—”
Poirotdisabusedhimquickly:
“Notatall.ItwasallarrangedbeforeIleftLondon.Ialwaysmakemyplanswellinadvance.”
“Youdon’tjustmoveonfromplacetoplaceasthefancytakesyou?Isn’tthelatterreallypleasanter?”
“Perhaps.Buttosucceedinlifeeverydetailshouldbearrangedwellbeforehand.”
Simonlaughedandsaid:“Thatishowthemoreskilfulmurdererbehaves,Isuppose.”
“Yes—thoughImustadmitthatthemostbrilliantcrimeIrememberandoneofthemostdifficulttosolvewascommittedonthespurofthemoment.”
Simonsaidboyishly:“YoumusttellussomethingaboutyourcasesonboardtheKarnak.”
“No,no;thatwouldbetotalk—whatdoyoucallit?—theshop.”
“Yes,butyourkindofshopisratherthrilling.Mrs.Allertonthinksso.She’slongingtogetachancetocross-questionyou.”
“Mrs.Allerton?Thatisthecharminggrey-hairedwomanwhohassuchadevotedson?”
“Yes.She’llbeontheKarnaktoo.”
“Doessheknowthatyou—?”
“Certainlynot,”saidSimonwithemphasis.“Nobodyknows.I’vegoneontheprinciplethatit’sbetternottotrustanybody.”
“Anadmirablesentiment—andonewhichIalwaysadopt.Bytheway,thethirdmemberofyourparty,thetallgrey-hairedman—”
“Pennington?”
“Yes.Heistravellingwithyou?”
Simonsaidgrimly:“Notveryusualonahoneymoon,youwerethinking?PenningtonisLinnet’sAmericantrustee.WeranacrosshimbychanceinCairo.”
“Ah,vraiment!Youpermitaquestion?Sheisofage,Madameyourwife?”
Simonlookedamused.
“Sheisn’tactuallytwenty-oneyet—butshehadn’tgottoaskanyone’sconsentbeforemarryingme.ItwasthegreatestsurprisetoPennington.HeleftNewYorkontheCarmanictwodaysbeforeLinnet’slettergottheretellinghimofourmarriage,soheknewnothingaboutit.”
“TheCarmanic—”murmuredPoirot.
“ItwasthegreatestsurprisetohimwhenweranintohimatShepheard’sinCairo.”
“Thatwasindeedthecoincident!”
“Yes,andwefoundthathewascomingonthisNiletrip—sonaturallyweforegathered;couldn’thavedoneanythingelsedecently.Besidesthat,it’sbeen—well,areliefinsomeways.”Helookedembarrassedagain.“Yousee,Linnet’sbeenallstrungup—expectingJackietoturnupanywhereandeverywhere.Whilewewerealonetogether,thesubjectkeptcomingup.AndrewPennington’sahelpthatway,wehavetotalkofoutsidematters.”
“YourwifehasnotconfidedinMr.Pennington?”
“No.”Simon’sjawlookedaggressive.“It’snothingtodowithanyoneelse.Besides,whenwestartedonthisNiletripwethoughtwe’dseentheendofthebusiness.”
Poirotshookhishead.
“Youhavenotseentheendofityet.No—theendisnotyetathand.Iamverysureofthat.”
“Isay,MonsieurPoirot,you’renotveryencouraging.”
Poirotlookedathimwithaslightfeelingofirritation.Hethoughttohimself:“TheAnglo-Saxon,hetakesnothingseriouslybutplayinggames!Hedoesnotgrowup.”
LinnetDoyle—JacquelinedeBellefort—bothofthemtookthebusinessseriouslyenough.ButinSimon’sattitudehecouldfindnothingbutmaleimpatienceandannoyance.Hesaid:“Youwillpermitmeanimpertinentquestion?WasityourideatocometoEgyptforyourhoneymoon?”
Simonflushed.
“No,ofcoursenot.AsamatteroffactI’dratherhavegoneanywhereelse,butLinnetwasabsolutelysetuponit.Andso—andso—”
Hestoppedratherlamely.
“Naturally,”saidPoirotgravely.
Heappreciatedthefactthat,ifLinnetDoylewassetuponanything,thatthinghadtohappen.
Hethoughttohimself:“Ihavenowheardthreeseparateaccountsoftheaffair—LinnetDoyle’s,JacquelinedeBellefort’s,SimonDoyle’s.Whichofthemisnearesttothetruth?”
Seven
SimonandLinnetDoylesetoffontheirexpeditiontoPhilaeabouteleveno’clockthefollowingmorning.JacquelinedeBellefort,sittingonthehotelbalcony,watchedthemsetoffinthepicturesquesailing-boat.Whatshedidnotseewasthedepartureofthecar—ladenwithluggage,andinwhichsatademure-lookingmaid—fromthefrontdoorofthehotel.ItturnedtotherightinthedirectionofShellal.
HerculePoirotdecidedtopasstheremainingtwohoursbeforelunchontheislandofElephantine,immediatelyoppositethehotel.
Hewentdowntothelandingstage.Thereweretwomenjuststeppingintooneofthehotelboats,andPoirotjoinedthem.Themenwereobviouslystrangerstoeachother.Theyoungerofthemhadarrivedbytrainthedaybefore.Hewasatall,dark-hairedyoungman,withathinfaceandapugnaciouschin.Hewaswearinganextremelydirtypairofgreyflanneltrousersandahigh-neckedpolojumpersingularlyunsuitedtotheclimate.Theotherwasaslightlypodgymiddle-agedmanwholostnotimeinenteringintoconversationwithPoirotinidiomaticbutslightlybrokenEnglish.Farfromtakingpartintheconversation,theyoungermanmerelyscowledatthembothandthendeliberatelyturnedhisbackonthemandproceededtoadmiretheagilitywithwhichtheNubianboatmansteeredtheboatwithhistoesashemanipulatedthesailwithhishands.
Itwasverypeacefulonthewater,thegreatsmoothslipperyblackrocksglidingbyandthesoftbreezefanningtheirfaces.ElephantinewasreachedveryquicklyandongoingashorePoirotandhisloquaciousacquaintancemadestraightforthemuseum.BythistimethelatterhadproducedacardwhichhehandedtoPoirotwithalittlebow.Itboretheinscription:“SignorGuidoRichetti,Archeologo.”
Nottobeoutdone,Poirotreturnedthebowandextractedhisowncard.Theseformalitiescompleted,thetwomensteppedintotheMuseumtogether,theItalianpouringforthastreamoferuditeinformation.TheywerebynowconversinginFrench.
TheyoungmanintheflanneltrousersstrolledlistlesslyroundtheMuseum,yawningfromtimetotime,andthenescapedtotheouterair.
PoirotandSignorRichettiatlastfoundhim.TheItalianwasenergeticinexaminingtheruins,butpresentlyPoirot,espyingagreen-linedsunshadewhichherecognizedontherocksdownbytheriver,escapedinthatdirection.
Mrs.Allertonwassittingonalargerock,asketchbookbyhersideandabookonherlap.
PoirotremovedhishatpolitelyandMrs.Allertonatonceenteredintoconversation.
“Goodmorning,”shesaid.“Isupposeitwouldbequiteimpossibletogetridofsomeoftheseawfulchildren.”
Agroupofsmallblackfiguressurroundedher,allgrinningandposturingandholdingoutimploringhandsastheylisped“Bakshish,”atintervals,hopefully.
“Ithoughtthey’dgettiredofme,”saidMrs.Allertonsadly.“They’vebeenwatchingmeforovertwohoursnow—andtheycloseinonmelittlebylittle;andthenIyell‘Imshi’andbrandishmysunshadeatthemandtheyscatterforaminuteortwo.Andthentheycomebackandstareandstare,andtheireyesaresimplydisgusting,andsoaretheirnoses,andIdon’tbelieveIreallylikechildren—notunlessthey’remoreorlesswashedandhavetherudimentsofmanners.”
Shelaughedruefully.
Poirotgallantlyattemptedtodispersethemobforher,butwithoutavail.Theyscatteredandthenreappeared,closinginoncemore.
“IftherewereonlyanypeaceinEgypt,Ishouldlikeitbetter,”saidMrs.Allerton.“Butyoucanneverbealoneanywhere.Someoneisalwayspesteringyouformoney,orofferingyoudonkeys,orbeads,orexpeditionstonativevillages,orduckshooting.”
“Itisthegreatdisadvantage,thatistrue,”saidPoirot.
Hespreadhishandkerchiefcautiouslyontherockandsatsomewhatgingerlyuponit.
“Yoursonisnotwithyouthismorning?”hewenton.
“No,Timhadsomeletterstogetoffbeforeweleave.We’redoingthetriptotheSecondCataract,youknow.”
“I,too.”
“I’msoglad.IwanttotellyouthatI’mquitethrilledtomeetyou.WhenwewereinMajorca,therewasaMrs.Leechthere,andshewastellingusthemostwonderfulthingsaboutyou.She’dlostarubyringbathing,andshewasjustlamentingthatyouweren’ttheretofinditforher.
“Ah,parbleu,butIamnotthedivingseal!”
Theybothlaughed.
Mrs.Allertonwenton.
“IsawyoufrommywindowwalkingdownthedrivewithSimonDoylethismorning.Dotellmewhatyoumakeofhim!We’resoexcitedabouthim.”
“Ah?Truly?”
“Yes.YouknowhismarriagetoLinnetRidgewaywasthegreatestsurprise.ShewassupposedtobegoingtomarryLordWindleshamandthensuddenlyshegetsengagedtothismannoonehadeverheardof!”
“Youknowherwell,Madame?”
“No,butacousinofmine,JoannaSouthwood,isoneofherbestfriends.”
“Ah,yes,Ihavereadthatnameinthepapers.”Hewassilentamomentandthenwenton,“Sheisayoungladyverymuchinthenews,MademoiselleJoannaSouthwood.”
“Oh,sheknowshowtoadvertiseherselfallright,”snappedMrs.Allerton.
“Youdonotlikeher,Madame?”
“Thatwasanastyremarkofmine.”Mrs.Allertonlookedpenitent.“YouseeI’mold-fashioned.Idon’tlikehermuch.Timandshearethegreatestoffriends,though.”
“Isee,”saidPoirot.
Hiscompanionshotaquicklookathim.Shechangedthesubject.
“Howveryfewyoungpeoplethereareouthere!Thatprettygirlwiththechestnuthairandtheappallingmotherintheturbanisalmosttheonlyyoungcreatureintheplace.Youhavetalkedtoheragooddeal,Inotice.Sheinterestsme,thatchild.”
“Whyisthat,Madame?”
“Ifeelsorryforher.Youcansuffersomuchwhenyouareyoungandsensitive.Ithinksheissuffering.”
“Yes,sheisnothappy,poorlittleone.”
“TimandIcallherthe‘sulkygirl.’I’vetriedtotalktoheronceortwice,butshe’ssnubbedmeoneachoccasion.However,Ibelieveshe’sgoingonthisNiletriptoo,andIexpectwe’llhavetobemoreorlessallmateytogether,shan’twe?”
“Itisapossiblecontingency,Madame.”
“I’mverymateyreally—peopleinterestmeenormously.Allthedifferenttypes.”Shepaused,thensaid:“Timtellsmethatthatdarkgirl—hernameisdeBellefort—isthegirlwhowasengagedtoSimonDoyle.It’sratherawkwardforthem—meetinglikethis.”
“Itisawkward—yes,”agreedPoirot.
“Youknow,itmaysoundfoolish,butshealmostfrightenedme.Shelookedso—intense.”
Poirotnoddedhisheadslowly.
“Youwerenotfarwrong,Madame.Agreatforceofemotionisalwaysfrightening.”
“Dopeopleinterestyoutoo,MonsieurPoirot?Ordoyoureserveyourinterestforpotentialcriminals?”
“Madame—thatcategorywouldnotleavemanypeopleoutsideit.”
Mrs.Allertonlookedatriflestartled.
“Doyoureallymeanthat?”
“Giventheparticularincentive,thatistosay,”Poirotadded.
“Whichwoulddiffer?”
“Naturally.”
Mrs.Allertonhesitated—alittlesmileonherlips.
“EvenIperhaps?”
“Mothers,Madame,areparticularlyruthlesswhentheirchildrenareindanger.”
Shesaidgravely,“Ithinkthat’strue—yes,you’requiteright.”
Shewassilentaminuteortwo,thenshesaid,smiling:I’mtryingtoimaginemotivesforcrimesuitableforeveryoneinthehotel.It’squiteentertaining.SimonDoyle,forinstance?”
Poirotsaid,smiling:“Averysimplecrime—adirectshortcuttohisobjective.Nosubtletyaboutit.”
“Andthereforeveryeasilydetected?”
“Yes;hewouldnotbeingenious.”
“AndLinnet?”
“ThatwouldbeliketheQueeninyourAliceinWonderland,‘Offwithherhead.’”
“Ofcourse.Thedivinerightofmonarchy!JustalittlebitoftheNaboth’svineyardtouch.Andthedangerousgirl—JacquelinedeBellefort—couldshedoamurder?”
Poirothesitatedforaminuteortwo,thenhesaiddoubtfully,“Yes,Ithinkshecould.”
“Butyou’renotsure?”
“No.Shepuzzlesme,thatlittleone.”
“Idon’tthinkMr.Penningtoncoulddoone,doyou?Helookssodesiccatedanddyspeptic—withnoredbloodinhim.”
“Butpossiblyastrongsenseofself-preservation.”
“Yes,Isupposeso.AndpoorMrs.Otterbourneinherturban?”
“Thereisalwaysvanity.”
“Asamotiveformurder?”Mrs.Allertonaskeddoubtfully.
“Motivesformurderaresometimesverytrivial,Madame.”
“Whatarethemostusualmotives,MonsieurPoirot?”
“Mostfrequent—money.Thatistosay,gaininitsvariousramifications.Thenthereisrevenge—andlove,andfear,andpurehate,andbeneficence—”
“MonsieurPoirot!”
“Oh,yes,Madame.Ihaveknownof—shallwesayA?—beingremovedbyBsolelyinordertobenefitC.Politicalmurdersoftencomeunderthesameheading.Someoneisconsideredtobeharmfultocivilizationandisremovedonthataccount.SuchpeopleforgetthatlifeanddeatharetheaffairofthegoodGod.”
Hespokegravely.
Mrs.Allertonsaidquietly:“Iamgladtohearyousaythat.Allthesame,Godchooseshisinstruments.”
“Thereisadangerinthinkinglikethat,Madame.”
Sheadoptedalightertone.
“Afterthisconversation,MonsieurPoirot,Ishallwonderthatthereisanyoneleftalive!”
Shegotup.
“Wemustbegettingback.Wehavetostartimmediatelyafterlunch.”
Whentheyreachedthelandingstagetheyfoundtheyoungmaninthepolojumperjusttakinghisplaceintheboat.TheItalianwasalreadywaiting.AstheNubianboatmancastthesaillooseandtheystarted,Poirotaddressedapoliteremarktothestranger.
“ThereareverywonderfulthingstobeseeninEgypt,aretherenot?”
Theyoungmanwasnowsmokingasomewhatnoisomepipe.Heremoveditfromhismouthandremarkedbrieflyandveryemphatically,inastonishinglywell-bredaccents:“Theymakemesick.”
Mrs.Allertonputonherpince-nezandsurveyedhimwithpleasurableinterest.
“Indeed?Andwhyisthat?”Poirotasked.
“TakethePyramids.Greatblocksofuselessmasonry,putuptoministertotheegoismofadespoticbloatedking.Thinkofthesweatedmasseswhotoiledtobuildthemanddieddoingit.Itmakesmesicktothinkofthesufferingandtorturetheyrepresent.”
Mrs.Allertonsaidcheerfully:“You’dratherhavenoPyramids,noParthenon,nobeautifultombsortemples—justthesolidsatisfactionofknowingthatpeoplegotthreemealsadayanddiedintheirbeds.”
Theyoungmandirectedhisscowlinherdirection.
“Ithinkhumanbeingsmattermorethanstones.”
“Buttheydonotendureaswell,”remarkedHerculePoirot.
“I’dratherseeawellfedworkerthananyso-calledworkofart.Whatmattersisthefuture—notthepast.”
ThiswastoomuchforSignorRichetti,whoburstintoatorrentofimpassionedspeechnottooeasytofollow.
Theyoungmanretortedbytellingeverybodyexactlywhathethoughtofthecapitalistsystem.Hespokewiththeutmostvenom.
Whenthetiradewasovertheyhadarrivedatthehotellandingstage.
Mrs.Allertonmurmuredcheerfully:“Well,well,”andsteppedashore.Theyoungmandirectedabalefulglanceafterher.
InthehallofthehotelPoirotencounteredJacquelinedeBellefort.Shewasdressedinridingclothes.Shegavehimanironicallittlebow.
“I’mgoingdonkey-riding.Doyourecommendthenativevillages,MonsieurPoirot?”
“Isthatyourexcursiontoday,Mademoiselle?Ehbien,theyarepicturesque—butdonotspendlargesumsonnativecurios.”
“WhichareshippedherefromEurope?No,Iamnotsoeasytodeceiveasthat.”
Withalittlenodshepassedoutintothebrilliantsunshine.
Poirotcompletedhispacking—averysimpleaffair,sincehispossessionswerealwaysinthemostmeticulousorder.Thenherepairedtothediningroomandateanearlylunch.
AfterlunchthehotelbustookthepassengersfortheSecondCataracttothestationwheretheyweretocatchthedailyexpressfromCairotoShellal—aten-minuterun.
TheAllertons,Poirot,theyoungmaninthedirtyflanneltrousersandtheItalianwerethepassengers.Mrs.OtterbourneandherdaughterhadmadetheexpeditiontotheDamandtoPhilaeandwouldjointhesteameratShellal.
ThetrainfromCairoandLuxorwasabouttwentyminuteslate.However,itarrivedatlast,andtheusualscenesofwildactivityoccurred.Nativeporterstakingsuitcasesoutofthetraincollidedwithotherportersputtingthemin.
Finally,somewhatbreathless,Poirotfoundhimself,withanassortmentofhisown,theAllertons’,andsometotallyunknownluggage,inonecompartment,whileTimandhismotherwereelsewherewiththeremainsoftheassortedbaggage.
ThecompartmentinwhichPoirotfoundhimselfwasoccupiedbyanelderlyladywithaverywrinkledface,astiffwhitestock,agoodmanydiamondsandanexpressionofreptiliancontemptforthemajorityofmankind.
ShetreatedPoirottoanaristocraticglareandretiredbehindthepagesofanAmericanmagazine.Abig,ratherclumsyyoungwomanofunderthirtywassittingoppositeher.Shehadeagerbrowneyes,ratherlikeadog’s,untidyhair,andaterrificairofwillingnesstoplease.Atintervalstheoldladylookedoverthetopofhermagazineandsnappedanorderather.
“Cornelia,collecttherugs.”“Whenwearrivelookaftermydressing-case.Onnoaccountletanyoneelsehandleit.”“Don’tforgetmypaper-cutter.”
Thetrainrunwasbrief.Intenminutes’timetheycametorestonthejettywheretheS.S.Karnakwasawaitingthem.TheOtterbourneswerealreadyonboard.
TheKarnakwasasmallersteamerthanthePapyrusandtheLotus,theFirstCataractsteamers,whicharetoolargetopassthroughthelocksoftheAssuandam.Thepassengerswentonboardandwereshowntheiraccommodation.Sincetheboatwasnotfull,mostofthepassengershadaccommodationonthepromenadedeck.Theentireforwardpartofthisdeckwasoccupiedbyanobservationsaloon,allglass-enclosed,wherethepassengerscouldsitandwatchtheriverunfoldbeforethem.Onthedeckbelowwereasmokingroomandasmalldrawingroomandonthedeckbelowthat,thediningsaloon.
Havingseenhispossessionsdisposedinhiscabin,Poirotcameoutonthedeckagaintowatchtheprocessofdeparture.HejoinedRosalieOtterbourne,whowasleaningovertheside.
“SonowwejourneyintoNubia.Youarepleased,Mademoiselle?”
Thegirldrewadeepbreath.
“Yes.Ifeelthatone’sreallygettingawayfromthingsatlast.”
Shemadeagesturewithherhand.Therewasasavageaspectaboutthesheetofwaterinfrontofthem,themassesofrockwithoutvegetationthatcamedowntothewater’sedge—hereandthereatraceofhouses,abandonedandruinedasaresultofthedammingupofthewaters.Thewholescenehadamelancholy,almostsinistercharm.
“Awayfrompeople,”saidRosalieOtterbourne.
“Exceptthoseofourownnumber,Mademoiselle?”
Sheshruggedhershoulders.Thenshesaid:“There’ssomethingaboutthiscountrythatmakesmefeel—wicked.Itbringstothesurfaceallthethingsthatareboilinginsideone.Everything’ssounfair—sounjust.”
“Iwonder.Youcannotjudgebymaterialevidence.”
Rosaliemuttered:“Lookat—atsomepeople’smothers—andlookatmine.ThereisnoGodbutSex,andSalomeOtterbourneisitsProphet.”Shestopped.“Ishouldn’thavesaidthat,Isuppose.”
Poirotmadeagesturewithhishands.
“Whynotsayit—tome?Iamoneofthosewhohearmanythings.If,asyousay,youboilinside—likethejam—ehbien,letthescumcometothesurface,andthenonecantakeitoffwithaspoon,so.”
HemadeagestureofdroppingsomethingintotheNile.
“Then,ithasgone.”
“Whatanextraordinarymanyouare!”Rosaliesaid.Hersulkymouthtwistedintoasmile.Thenshesuddenlystiffenedassheexclaimed:“Well,hereareMrs.Doyleandherhusband!I’dnoideatheywerecomingonthistrip!”
Linnethadjustemergedfromacabinhalfwaydownthedeck.Simonwasbehindher.Poirotwasalmoststartledbythelookofher—soradiant,soassured.Shelookedpositivelyarrogantwithhappiness.SimonDoyle,too,wasatransformedbeing.Hewasgrinningfromeartoearandlookinglikeahappyschoolboy.
“Thisisgrand,”hesaidashetooleanedontherail.“I’mreallylookingforwardtothistrip,aren’tyou,Linnet?Itfeels,somehow,somuchlesstouristy—asthoughwewerereallygoingintotheheartofEgypt.”
Hiswiferespondedquickly:“Iknow.It’ssomuch—wilder,somehow.”
Herhandslippedthroughhisarm.Hepresseditclosetohisside.
“We’reoff,Lin,”hemurmured.
Thesteamerwasdrawingawayfromthejetty.Theyhadstartedontheirseven-dayjourneytotheSecondCataractandback.
Behindthemalightsilverylaughrangout.Linnetwhippedround.
JacquelinedeBellefortwasstandingthere.Sheseemedamused.
“Hullo,Linnet!Ididn’texpecttofindyouhere.IthoughtyousaidyouwerestayinginAssuananothertendays.Thisisasurprise!”
“You—youdidn’t—”Linnet’stonguestammered.Sheforcedaghastlyconventionalsmile.“I—Ididn’texpecttoseeyoueither.”
“No?”
Jacquelinemovedawaytotheothersideoftheboat.Linnet’sgrasponherhusband’sarmtightened.
“Simon—Simon—”
AllDoyle’sgood-naturedpleasurehadgone.Helookedfurious.Hishandsclenchedthemselvesinspiteofhiseffortatself-control.
Thetwoofthemmovedalittleaway.WithoutturninghisheadPoirotcaughtscrapsofdisjointedwords:
“…turnback…impossible…wecould…”andthen,slightlylouder,Doyle’svoice,despairingbutgrim:“Wecan’trunawayforever,Lin.We’vegottogothroughwithitnow….”
Itwassomehourslater.Daylightwasjustfading.Poirotstoodintheglass-enclosedsaloonlookingstraightahead.TheKarnakwasgoingthroughanarrowgorge.Therockscamedownwithakindofsheerferocitytotheriverflowingdeepandswiftbetweenthem.TheywereinNubianow
HeheardamovementandLinnetDoylestoodbyhisside.Herfingerstwistedanduntwistedthemselves;shelookedashehadneveryetseenherlook.Therewasabouthertheairofabewilderedchild.Shesaid:
“MonsieurPoirot,I’mafraid—I’mafraidofeverything.I’veneverfeltlikethisbefore.Allthesewildrocksandtheawfulgrimnessandstarkness.Wherearewegoing?What’sgoingtohappen?I’mafraid,Itellyou.Everyonehatesme.I’veneverfeltlikethatbefore.I’vealwaysbeennicetopeople—I’vedonethingsforthem—andtheyhateme—lotsofpeoplehateme.ExceptforSimon,I’msurroundedbyenemies…It’sterribletofeel—thattherearepeoplewhohateyou….”
“Butwhatisallthis,Madame?”
Sheshookherhead.
“Isuppose—it’snerves…Ijustfeelthat—everything’sunsafeallroundme.”
ShecastaquicknervousglanceoverhisshoulderThenshesaidabruptly:“Howwillallthisend?We’recaughthere.Trapped!There’snowayout.We’vegottogoon.I—Idon’tknowwhereIam.”
Sheslippeddownontoaseat.Poirotlookeddownonhergravely;hisglancewasnotuntingedwithcompassion.
“Howdidsheknowwewerecomingonthisboat?”shesaid.“Howcouldshehaveknown?”
Poirotshookhisheadasheanswered:“Shehasbrains,youknow.”
“IfeelasthoughIshallneverescapefromher.”
Poirotsaid:“Thereisoneplanyoumighthaveadopted.InfactIamsurprisedthatitdidnotoccurtoyou.Afterall,withyou,Madame,moneyisnoobject.Whydidyounotengageinyourownprivatedahabiyeh?”
“Ifwe’dknownaboutallthis—butyouseewedidn’t—then.Anditwasdifficult…”Sheflashedoutwithsuddenimpatience:“Oh!youdon’tunderstandhalfmydifficulties.I’vegottobecarefulwithSimon…He’s—he’sabsurdlysensitive—aboutmoney.Aboutmyhavingsomuch!HewantedmetogotosomelittleplaceinSpainwithhim—he—hewantedtopayallourhoneymoonexpenseshimself.Asifitmattered!Menarestupid!He’sgottogetusedto—to—livingcomfortably.Themereideaofadahabiyehupsethim—the—theneedlessexpense.I’vegottoeducatehim—gradually.”
Shelookedup,bitherlipvexedly,asthoughfeelingthatshehadbeenledintodiscussingherdifficultiesrathertoounguardedly.
Shegotup.
“Imustchange.I’msorry,MonsieurPoirot.I’mafraidI’vebeentalkingalotoffoolishnonsense.”
Eight
Mrs.Allerton,lookingquietanddistinguishedinhersimpleblacklaceeveninggown,descendedtwodeckstothediningroom.Atthedoorofithersoncaughtherup.
“Sorry,darling.IthoughtIwasgoingtobelate.”
“Iwonderwherewesit.”Thesaloonwasdottedwithlittletables.Mrs.Allertonpausedtillthesteward,whowasbusyseatingapartyofpeople,couldattendtothem.
“Bytheway,”sheadded,“IaskedlittleHerculePoirottositatourtable.”
“Mother,youdidn’t!”Timsoundedreallytakenabackandannoyed.
Hismotherstaredathiminsurprise.Timwasusuallysoeasy-going.
“Mydear,doyoumind?”
“Yes,Ido.He’sanunmitigatedlittlebounder!”
“Oh,no,Tim!Idon’tagreewithyou.”
“Anyway,whatdowewanttogetmixedupwithanoutsiderfor?Coopeduplikethisonasmallboat,thatsortofthingisalwaysabore.He’llbewithusmorning,noon,andnight.”
“I’msorry,dear.”Mrs.Allertonlookeddistressed.“Ithoughtreallyitwouldamuseyou.Afterall,hemusthavehadavariedexperience.Andyoulovedetectivestories.”
Timgrunted.
“Iwishyouwouldn’thavethesebrightideas,Mother.Wecan’tgetoutofitnow,Isuppose?”
“Really,Tim,Idon’tseehowwecan.”
“Oh,well,weshallhavetoputupwithit,Isuppose.”
Thestewardcametothematthisminuteandledthemtoatable.Mrs.Allerton’sfaceworeratherapuzzledexpressionasshefollowedhim.Timwasusuallysoeasy-goingandgood-tempered.Thisoutburstwasquiteunlikehim.Itwasn’tasthoughhehadtheordinaryBritisher’sdislike—andmistrust—offoreigners.Timwasverycosmopolitan.Oh,well—shesighed.Menwereincomprehensible!Evenone’snearestanddearesthadunsuspectedreactionsandfeelings.
Astheytooktheirplaces,HerculePoirotcamequicklyandsilentlyintothediningsaloon.Hepausedwithhishandonthebackofthethirdchair.
“Youreallypermit,Madame,thatIavailmyselfofyourkindsuggestion?”
“Ofcourse.Sitdown,MonsieurPoirot.”
“Youaremostamiable.”
Shewasuneasilyconsciousthat,asheseatedhimself,heshotaswiftglanceatTim,andthatTimhadnotquitesucceededinmaskingasomewhatsullenexpression.
Mrs.Allertonsetherselftoproduceapleasantatmosphere.Astheydranktheirsoup,shepickedupthepassengerlistwhichhadbeenplacedbesideherplate.
“Let’stryandidentifyeverybody,”shesuggestedcheerfully.“Ialwaysthinkthat’sratherfun.”
Shebeganreading:“Mrs.Allerton,Mr.T.Allerton.That’seasyenough!MissdeBellefort.They’veputheratthesametableastheOtterbournes,Isee.IwonderwhatsheandRosaliewillmakeofeachother.Whocomesnext?Dr.Bessner.Dr.Bessner?WhocanidentifyDr.Bessner?”
Shebentherglanceonatableatwhichfourmensattogether.
“Ithinkhemustbethefatonewiththecloselyshavedheadandthemoustache.AGerman,Ishouldimagine.Heseemstobeenjoyinghissoupverymuch.”Certainsucculentnoisesfloatedacrosstothem.
Mrs.Allertoncontinued:“MissBowers?CanwemakeaguessatMissBowers?Therearethreeorfourwomen—no,we’llleaveherforthepresent.Mr.andMrs.Doyle.Yes,indeed,thelionsofthistrip.Shereallyisverybeautiful,andwhataperfectlylovelyfrocksheiswearing.”
Timturnedroundinhischair.LinnetandherhusbandandAndrewPenningtonhadbeengivenatableinthecorner.Linnetwaswearingawhitedressandpearls.
“Itlooksfrightfullysimpletome,”saidTim.“Justalengthofstuffwithakindofcordroundthemiddle.”
“Yes,darling,”saidhismother.“Averynicemanlydescriptionofaneighty-guineamodel.”
“Ican’tthinkwhywomenpaysomuchfortheirclothes,”Timsaid.“Itseemsabsurdtome.”
Mrs.Allertonproceededwithherstudyofherfellowpassengers.
“Mr.Fanthorpmustbeoneofthefouratthattable.Theintenselyquietyoungmanwhoneverspeaks.Ratheraniceface,cautiousandintelligent.”
Poirotagreed.
“Heisintelligent—yes.Hedoesnottalk,buthelistensveryattentively,andhealsowatches.Yes,hemakesgooduseofhiseyes.Notquitethetypeyouwouldexpecttofindtravellingforpleasureinthispartoftheworld.Iwonderwhatheisdoinghere.”
“Mr.Ferguson,”readMrs.Allerton.“IfeelthatFergusonmustbeouranti-capitalistfriend.Mrs.Otterbourne,MissOtterbourne.Weknowallaboutthem.Mr.Pennington?AliasUncleAndrew.He’sagood-lookingman,Ithink—”
“Now,Mother,”saidTim.
“Ithinkhe’sverygood-lookinginadrysortofway,”saidMrs.Allerton.“Ratheraruthlessjaw.Probablythekindofmanonereadsaboutinthepaper,whooperatesonWallStreet—orisitinWallStreet?I’msurehemustbeextremelyrich.Next—MonsieurHerculePoirot—whosetalentsarereallybeingwasted.Can’tyougetupacrimeforMonsieurPoirot,Tim?”
Butherwell-meantbanteronlyseemedtoannoyhersonanew.HescowledandMrs.Allertonhurriedon:“Mr.Richetti.OurItalianarchaeologicalfriend.ThenMissRobsonandlastofallMissVanSchuyler.Thelast’seasy.TheveryuglyoldAmericanladywhoisclearlygoingtobeveryexclusiveandspeaktonobodywhodoesn’tcomeuptothemostexactingstandards!She’srathermarvellous,isn’tshe,really?Akindofperiodpiece.ThetwowomenwithhermustbeMissBowersandMissRobson—perhapsasecretary,thethinonewithpince-nez,andapoorrelation,theratherpatheticyoungwomanwhoisobviouslyenjoyingherselfinspiteofbeingtreatedlikeablackslave.IthinkRobson’sthesecretarywomanandBowersisthepoorrelation.”
“Wrong,Mother,”saidTim,grinning.Hehadsuddenlyrecoveredhisgoodhumour.
“Howdoyouknow?”
“BecauseIwasintheloungebeforedinnerandtheoldbeansaidtothecompanionwoman:‘Where’sMissBowers?Fetchheratonce,Cornelia.’AndawaytrottedCornelialikeanobedientdog.”
“IshallhavetotalktoMissVanSchuyler,”musedMrs.Allerton.
Timgrinnedagain.
“She’llsnubyou,Mother.”
“Notatall.Ishallpavethewaybysittingnearherandconversing,inlow(butpenetrating),well-bredtones,aboutanytitledrelationsandfriendsIcanremember.Ithinkacasualmentionofyoursecondcousin,onceremoved,theDukeofGlasgow,wouldprobablydothetrick.”
“Howunscrupulousyouare,Mother!”
Eventsafterdinnerwerenotwithouttheiramusingsidetoastudentofhumannature.
Thesocialisticyoungman(whoturnedouttobeMr.Fergusonasdeduced)retiredtothesmokingroom,scorningtheassemblageofpassengersintheobservationsaloononthetopdeck.
MissVanSchuylerdulysecuredthebestandmostundraughtypositiontherebyadvancingfirmlyonatableatwhichMrs.Otterbournewassittingandsaying,“You’llexcuseme,Iamsure,butIthinkmyknittingwaslefthere!”
Fixedbyahypnoticeye,theturbanroseandgaveground.MissVanSchuylerestablishedherselfandhersuite.Mrs.Otterbournesatdownnearbyandhazardedvariousremarks,whichweremetwithsuchchillingpolitenessthatshesoongaveup.MissVanSchuylerthensatingloriousisolation.TheDoylessatwiththeAllertons.Dr.BessnerretainedthequietMr.Fanthorpasacompanion.JacquelinedeBellefortsatbyherselfwithabook.RosalieOtterbournewasrestless.Mrs.Allertonspoketoheronceortwiceandtriedtodrawherintotheirgroup,butthegirlrespondedungraciously.
M.HerculePoirotspenthiseveninglisteningtoanaccountofMrs.Otterbourne’smissionasawriter.
OnhiswaytohiscabinthatnightheencounteredJacquelinedeBellefort.Shewasleaningovertherailand,assheturnedherhead,hewasstruckbythelookofacutemiseryonherface.Therewasnownoinsouciance,nomaliciousdefiance,nodarkflamingtriumph.
“Goodnight,Mademoiselle.”
“Goodnight,MonsieurPoirot.”Shehesitated,thensaid:“Youweresurprisedtofindmehere?”
“Iwasnotsomuchsurprisedassorry—verysorry….”
Hespokegravely.
“Youmeansorry—forme?”
“ThatiswhatImeant.Youhavechosen,Mademoiselle,thedangerouscourse…Aswehereinthisboathaveembarkedonajourney,soyoutoohaveembarkedonyourownprivatejourney—ajourneyonaswiftmovingriver,betweendangerousrocks,andheadingforwhoknowswhatcurrentsofdisaster….”
“Whydoyousaythis?”
“Becauseitistrue…Youhavecutthebondsthatmooredyoutosafety.Idoubtnowifyoucouldturnbackifyouwould.”
Shesaidveryslowly:“Thatistrue….”
Thensheflungherheadback.
“Ah,well—onemustfollowone’sstar,whereveritleads.”
“Beware,Mademoiselle,thatitisnotafalsestar….”
Shelaughedandmimickedtheparrotcryofthedonkeyboys:
“Thatverybadstar,sir!Thatstarfalldown….”
Hewasjustdroppingofftosleepwhenthemurmurofvoicesawokehim.ItwasSimonDoyle’svoiceheheard,repeatingthesamewordshehadusedwhenthesteamerleftShellal.
“We’vegottogothroughwithitnow….”
“Yes,”thoughtHerculePoirottohimself,“wehavegottogothroughwithitnow….”
Hewasnothappy.
Nine
I
ThesteamerarrivedearlynextmorningatEz-Zebua.
CorneliaRobson,herfacebeaming,alargeflappinghatonherhead,wasoneofthefirsttohurryonshore.Corneliawasnotgoodatsnubbingpeople.Shewasofanamiabledispositionanddisposedtolikeallherfellowcreatures.
ThesightofHerculePoirot,inawhitesuit,pinkshirt,largeblackbowtieandawhitetopee,didnotmakeherwinceasthearistocraticMissVanSchuylerwouldassuredlyhavewinced.Astheywalkedtogetherupanavenueofsphinxes,sherespondedreadilytohisconventionalopening,“Yourcompanionsarenotcomingashoretoviewthetemple?”
“Well,yousee,CousinMarie—that’sMissVanSchuyler—nevergetsupveryearly.Shehastobevery,verycarefulofherhealth.AndofcourseshewantedMissBowers,that’sherhospitalnurse,todothingsforher.Andshesaid,too,thatthisisn’toneofthebesttemples—butshewasfrightfullykindandsaiditwouldbequiteallrightformetocome.”
“Thatwasverygraciousofher,”saidPoirotdryly.
TheingenuousCorneliaagreedunsuspectingly.
“Oh,she’sverykind.It’ssimplywonderfulofhertobringmeonthistrip.IdofeelI’maluckygirl.IjustcouldhardlybelieveitwhenshesuggestedtoMotherthatIshouldcometoo.”
“Andyouhaveenjoyedit—yes?”
“Oh,it’sbeenwonderful!I’veseenItaly—VeniceandPaduaandPisa—andthenCairo—onlycousinMariewasn’tverywellinCairo,soIcouldn’tgetroundmuch,andnowthiswonderfultripuptheWadiHalfaandback.”
Poirotsaid,smiling,“Youhavethehappynature,Mademoiselle.”
Helookedthoughtfullyfromhertosilent,frowningRosalie,whowaswalkingaheadbyherself.
“She’sverynice-looking,isn’tshe?”saidCornelia,followinghisglance.“Onlykindofscornful-looking.She’sveryEnglish,ofcourse.She’snotaslovelyasMrs.Doyle.IthinkMrs.Doyle’stheloveliest,themostelegantwomanI’veeverseen!Andherhusbandjustworshipsthegroundshewalkson,doesn’the?Ithinkthatgrey-hairedladyiskindofdistinguished-looking,don’tyou?She’sacousinofaDuke,Ibelieve.Shewastalkingabouthimrightnearuslastnight.Butsheisn’tactuallytitledherself,isshe?”
Sheprattledonuntilthedragomaninchargecalledahaltandbegantointone:“ThistemplewasdedicatedtoEgyptianGodAmunandtheSunGodRe-Harakhte—whosesymbolwasahawk’shead….”
Itdronedon.Dr.Bessner,Baedekerinhand,mumbledtohimselfinGerman.Hepreferredthewrittenword.
TimAllertonhadnotjoinedtheparty.HismotherwasbreakingtheicewiththereservedMr.Fanthorp.AndrewPennington,hisarmthroughLinnetDoyle’s,waslisteningattentively,seeminglymostinterestedinthemeasurementsasrecitedbytheguide.
“Sixty-fivefeethigh,isthatso?Looksalittlelesstome.Greatfellow,thisRameses.AnEgyptianlivewire.”
“Abigbusinessman,UncleAndrew.”
AndrewPenningtonlookedatherappreciatively.
“Youlookfinethismorning,Linnet.I’vebeenamiteworriedaboutyoulately.You’velookedkindofpeaky.”
Chattingtogether,thepartyreturnedtotheboat.OncemoretheKarnakglideduptheriver.Thescenerywaslesssternnow.Therewerepalms,cultivation.
Itwasasthoughthechangeinthesceneryhadrelievedsomesecretoppressionthathadbroodedoverthepassengers.TimAllertonhadgotoverhisfitofmoodiness.Rosalielookedlesssulky.Linnetseemedalmostlighthearted.
Penningtonsaidtoher:“It’stactlesstotalkbusinesstoabrideonherhoneymoon,buttherearejustoneortwothings—”
“Why,ofcourse,UncleAndrew.”Linnetatoncebecamebusinesslike.“Mymarriagehasmadeadifference,ofcourse.”
“That’sjustit.SometimeorotherIwantyoursignaturetoseveraldocuments.”
“Whynotnow?”
AndrewPenningtonglancedround.Theircorneroftheobservationsaloonwasquiteuntenanted.Mostofthepeoplewereoutsideonthedeckspacebetweentheobservationsaloonandthecabin.TheonlyoccupantsofthesaloonwereMr.Ferguson—whowasdrinkingbeeratasmalltableinthemiddle,hislegs,encasedintheirdirtyflanneltrousers,stuckoutinfrontofhim,whilsthewhistledtohimselfintheintervalsofdrinking—M.HerculePoirot,whowassittingbeforehim—andMissVanSchuyler,whowassittinginacornerreadingabookonEgypt.
“That’sfine,”saidAndrewPennington.Heleftthesaloon.
LinnetandSimonsmiledateachother—aslowsmilethattookafewminutestocometofullfruition.
“Allright,sweet?”heasked.
“Yes,stillallright…FunnyhowI’mnotrattledanymore.”
Simonsaidwithdeepconvictioninhistone:“You’remarvellous.”
Penningtoncameback.Hebroughtwithhimasheafofcloselywrittendocuments
“Mercy!”criedLinnet.“HaveIgottosignallthese?”
AndrewPenningtonwasapologetic.
“It’stoughonyou,Iknow,butI’djustliketogetyouraffairsputinpropershape.Firstofallthere’stheleaseoftheFifthAvenueproperty…thentherearetheWesternLandConcessions…”Hetalkedon,rustlingandsortingthepapers.Simonyawned.
ThedoortothedeckswungopenandMr.Fanthorpcamein.Hegazedaimlesslyround,thenstrolledforwardandstoodbyPoirotlookingoutatthepalebluewaterandtheyellowenvelopingsands….
“—yousignjustthere,”concludedPennington,spreadingapaperbeforeLinnetandindicatingaspace.
Linnetpickedupthedocumentandglancedthroughit.Sheturnedbackoncetothefirstpage,then,takingupthefountainpenPenningtonhadlaidbesideher,shesignedhernameLinnetDoyle…
Penningtontookawaythepaperandspreadoutanother.
Fanthorpwanderedoverintheirdirection.Hepeeredoutthroughthesidewindowatsomethingthatseemedtointeresthimonthebanktheywerepassing.
“That’sjustthetransfer,”saidPennington.“Youneedn’treadit.”
ButLinnettookabriefglancethroughit.Penningtonlaiddownathirdpaper.AgainLinnetperuseditcarefully.
“They’reallquitestraightforward,”saidAndrew.“Nothingofinterest.Onlylegalphraseology.”
Simonyawnedagain.
“Mydeargirl,you’renotgoingtoreadthewholelotthrough,areyou?You’llbeatittilllunchtimeandlonger.”
“Ialwaysreadeverythingthrough,”saidLinnet.“Fathertaughtmetodothat.Hesaidtheremightbesomeclericalerror.”
Penningtonlaughedratherharshly.
“You’reagrandwomanofbusiness,Linnet.”
“She’smuchmoreconscientiousthanI’dbe,”saidSimon,laughing.“I’veneverreadalegaldocumentinmylife.Isignwheretheytellmetosignonthedottedline—andthat’sthat.”
“That’sfrightfullyslipshod,”saidLinnetdisapprovingly.
“I’venobusinesshead,”declaredSimoncheerfully.“Neverhad.Afellowtellsmetosign—Isign.It’smuchthesimplestway.”
AndrewPenningtonwaslookingathimthoughtfully.Hesaiddryly,strokinghisupperlip,“Alittleriskysometimes,Doyle?”
“Nonsense,”repliedSimon.“I’mnotoneofthosepeoplewhobelievethewholeworldisouttodoonedown.I’matrustingkindoffellow—anditpays,youknow.I’vehardlyeverbeenletdown.”
Suddenly,toeveryone’ssurprise,thesilentMr.FanthorpswungaroundandaddressedLinnet.
“IhopeI’mnotbuttingin,butyoumustletmesayhowmuchIadmireyourbusinesslikecapacity.Inmyprofession—er—Iamalawyer—Ifindladiessadlyunbusinesslike.Nevertosignadocumentunlessyoureaditthroughisadmirable—altogetheradmirable.”
Hegavealittlebow.Then,ratherredintheface,heturnedoncemoretocontemplatethebanksoftheNile.
Linnetlookedratheruncertainly:“Er—thankyou…”Shebitherliptorepressagiggle.Theyoungmanhadlookedsopreternaturallysolemn.
AndrewPenningtonlookedseriouslyannoyed.
SimonDoylelookeduncertainwhethertobeannoyedoramused.
ThebacksofMr.Fanthorp’searswerebrightcrimson.
“Next,please,”saidLinnet,smilingupatPennington.
ButPenningtonlookeddecidedlyruffled
“Ithinkperhapssomeothertimewouldbebetter,”hesaidstiffly.“As—er—Doylesays,ifyouhavetoreadthroughalltheseweshallbeheretilllunchtime.Wemustn’tmissenjoyingthescenery.Anywaythosefirsttwopapersweretheonlyurgentones.We’llsettledowntobusinesslater.”
“It’sfrightfullyhotinhere,”Linnetsaid.“Let’sgooutside.”
Thethreeofthempassedthroughtheswingdoor.HerculePoirotturnedhishead.HisgazerestedthoughtfullyonMr.Fanthorp’sback;thenitshiftedtotheloungingfigureofMr.Fergusonwhohadhisheadthrownbackandwasstillwhistlingsoftlytohimself.
FinallyPoirotlookedoverattheuprightfigureofMissVanSchuylerinhercorner.MissVanSchuylerwasglaringatMr.Ferguson.
TheswingdoorontheportsideopenedandCorneliaRobsonhurriedin.
“You’vebeenalongtime,”snappedtheoldlady.“Where’veyoubeen?”
“I’msosorry,CousinMarie.Thewoolwasn’twhereyousaiditwas.Itwasinanothercasealtogether—”
“Mydearchild,youareperfectlyhopelessatfindinganything!Youarewilling,Iknow,mydear,butyoumusttrytobealittleclevererandquicker.Itonlyneedsconcentration.”
“I’msosorry,CousinMarie.I’mafraidIamverystupid.”
“Nobodyneedbestupidiftheytry,mydear.Ihavebroughtyouonthistrip,andIexpectalittleattentioninreturn.”
Corneliaflushed.
“I’mverysorry,CousinMarie.”
“AndwhereisMissBowers?Itwastimeformydropstenminutesago.Pleasegoandfindheratonce.Thedoctorsaiditwasmostimportant—”
ButatthisstageMissBowersentered,carryingasmallmedicineglass.
“Yourdrops,MissVanSchuyler.”
“Ishouldhavehadthemateleven,”snappedtheoldlady.“Ifthere’sonethingIdetestit’sunpunctuality.”
“Quite,”saidMissBowers.Sheglancedatherwristwatch.“It’sexactlyhalfaminutetoeleven.”
“Bymywatchit’stenpast.”
“Ithinkyou’llfindmywatchisright.It’saperfecttimekeeper.Itneverlosesorgains.”MissBowerswasquiteimperturbable.
MissVanSchuylerswallowedthecontentsofthemedicineglass.
“Ifeeldefinitelyworse,”shesnapped.
“I’msorrytohearthat,MissVanSchuyler.”
MissBowersdidnotsoundsorry.Shesoundedcompletelyuninterested.Shewasobviouslymakingthecorrectreplymechanically.
“It’stoohotinhere,”snappedMissVanSchuyler.“Findmeachaironthedeck,MissBowers.Cornelia,bringmyknitting.Don’tbeclumsyordropit.AndthenIshallwantyoutowindsomewool.”
Theprocessionpassedout.
Mr.Fergusonsighed,stirredhislegsandremarkedtotheworldatlarge,“Gosh,I’dliketoscragthatdame.”
Poirotaskedinterestedly:“Sheisatypeyoudislike,eh?”
“Dislike?Ishouldsayso.Whatgoodhasthatwomaneverbeentoanyoneoranything?She’sneverworkedorliftedafinger.She’sjustbattenedonotherpeople.She’saparasite—andadamnedunpleasantparasite.TherearealotofpeopleonthisboatI’dsaytheworldcoulddowithout.”
“Really?”
“Yes.Thatgirlinherejustnow,signingsharetransfersandthrowingherweightabout.Hundredsandthousandsofwretchedworkersslavingforamerepittancetokeepherinsilkstockingsanduselessluxuries.OneoftherichestwomeninEngland,sosomeonetoldme—andneverdoneahand’sturninherlife.”
“WhotoldyoushewasoneoftherichestwomeninEngland?”
Mr.Fergusoncastabelligerenteyeathim.
“Amanyouwouldn’tbeseenspeakingto!Amanwhoworkswithhishandsandisn’tashamedofit!Notoneofyourdressed-up,foppishgood-for-nothings.”
Hiseyerestedunfavourablyonthebowtieandpinkshirt.
“Me,Iworkwithmybrainsandamnotashamedofit,”saidPoirot,answeringtheglance.
Mr.Fergusonmerelysnorted.
“Oughttobeshot—thelotofthem!”heasserted.
“Mydearyoungman,”saidPoirot,“whatapassionyouhaveforviolence!”
“Canyoutellmeofanygoodthatcanbedonewithoutit?You’vegottobreakdownanddestroybeforeyoucanbuildup.”
“Itiscertainlymucheasierandmuchnoisierandmuchmorespectacular.”
“Whatdoyoudoforaliving?Nothingatall,Ibet.Probablycallyourselfamiddleman.”
“Iamnotamiddleman.Iamatopman,”declaredHerculePoirotwithaslightarrogance.
“Whatareyou?”
“Iamadetective,”saidHerculePoirotwiththemodestairofonewhosays“Iamaking.”
“GoodGod!”Theyoungmanseemedseriouslytakenaback.“Doyoumeanthatgirlactuallytotesaboutadumbdick?Issheascarefulofherpreciousskinasthat?”
“IhavenoconnectionwhateverwithMonsieurandMadameDoyle,”saidPoirotstiffly.“Iamonholiday.”
“Enjoyingavacation—eh?”
“Andyou?Isitnotthatyouareonholidayalso?”
“Holiday!”Mr.Fergusonsnorted.Thenheaddedcryptically:“I’mstudyingconditions.”
“Veryinteresting,”murmuredPoirotandmovedgentlyoutontothedeck.
MissVanSchuylerwasestablishedinthebestcorner.Corneliakneltinfrontofher,herarmsoutstretchedwithaskeinofgreywooluponthem.MissBowerswassittingveryuprightreadingtheSaturdayEveningPost.
Poirotwanderedgentlyonwarddownthestarboarddeck.Ashepassedroundthesternoftheboathealmostranintoawomanwhoturnedastartledfacetowardshim—adark,piquant,Latinface.Shewasneatlydressedinblackandhadbeenstandingtalkingtoabigburlymaninuniform—oneoftheengineers,bythelookofhim.Therewasaqueerexpressiononboththeirfaces—guiltandalarm.Poirotwonderedwhattheyhadbeentalkingabout.
Heroundedthesternandcontinuedhiswalkalongtheportside.AcabindooropenedandMrs.Otterbourneemergedandnearlyfellintohisarms.Shewaswearingascarletsatindressing-gown.
“Sosorry,”sheapologized.“DearMr.Poirot—soverysorry.Themotion—justthemotion,youknow.Neverdidhaveanysealegs.Iftheboatwouldonlykeepstill…”Sheclutchedathisarm.“It’sthepitchingIcan’tstand…Neverreallyhappyatsea…Andleftallaloneherehourafterhour.Thatgirlofmine—nosympathy—nounderstandingofherpooroldmotherwho’sdoneeverythingforher…”Mrs.Otterbournebegantoweep.“SlavedforherIhave—wornmyselftothebone—tothebone.Agrandeamoureuse—that’swhatImighthavebeen—agrandeamoureuse—sacrificedeverything—everything…Andnobodycares!ButI’lltelleveryone—I’lltellthemnow—howsheneglectsme—howhardsheis—makingmecomeonthisjourney—boredtodeath…I’llgoandtellthemnow—”
Shesurgedforward.Poirotgentlyrepressedtheaction.
“Iwillsendhertoyou,Madame.Re-enteryourcabin.Itisbestthatway—”
“No.Iwanttotelleveryone—everyoneontheboat—”
“Itistoodangerous,Madame.Theseaistoorough.Youmightbesweptoverboard.”
Mrs.Otterbournelookedathimdoubtfully.
“Youthinkso.Youreallythinkso?”
“Ido.”
Hewassuccessful.Mrs.Otterbournewavered,falteredandre-enteredhercabin
Poirot’snostrilstwitchedonceortwice.ThenhenoddedandwalkedontowhereRosalieOtterbournewassittingbetweenMrs.AllertonandTim.
“Yourmotherwantsyou,Mademoiselle.”
Shehadbeenlaughingquitehappily.Nowherfacecloudedover.Sheshotaquicksuspiciouslookathimandhurriedalongthedeck.
“Ican’tmakethatchildout,”saidMrs.Allerton.“Shevariesso.Onedayshe’sfriendly;thenextday,she’spositivelyrude.”
“Thoroughlyspoiltandbad-tempered,”saidTim.
Mrs.Allertonshookherhead.
“No.Idon’tthinkit’sthat.Ithinkshe’sunhappy.”
Timshruggedhisshoulders.
“Oh,well,Isupposewe’veallgotourprivatetroubles.”Hisvoicesoundedhardandcurt.
Aboomingnoisewasheard.
“Lunch,”criedMrs.Allertondelightedly.
“I’mstarving.”
II
Thatevening,PoirotnoticedthatMrs.AllertonwassittingtalkingtoMissVanSchuyler.Ashepassed,Mrs.Allertonclosedoneeyeandopeneditagain.Shewassaying,“OfcourseatCalfriesCastle—thedearDuke—”
Cornelia,releasedfromherattendance,wasoutonthedeck.ShewaslisteningtoDr.Bessner,whowasinstructinghersomewhatponderouslyinEgyptologyasculledfromthepagesofBaedeker.Cornelialistenedwithraptattention.
LeaningovertherailTimAllertonwassaying:“Anyhow,it’sarottenworld….”
RosalieOtterbourneanswered:“It’sunfair;somepeoplehaveeverything.”
Poirotsighed.Hewasgladthathewasnolongeryoung.
Ten
OntheMondaymorningvariousexpressionsofdelightandappreciationwereheardonthedeckoftheKarnak.Thesteamerwasmooredtothebankandafewhundredyardsaway,themorningsunjuststrikingit,wasagreattemplecarvedoutofthefaceoftherock.Fourcolossalfigures,hewnoutofthecliff,lookouteternallyovertheNileandfacetherisingsun.
CorneliaRobsonsaidincoherently:“Oh,MonsieurPoirot,isn’titwonderful?Imeanthey’resobigandpeaceful—andlookingatthemmakesonefeelthatone’ssosmall—andratherlikeaninsect—andthatnothingmattersverymuchreally,doesit?”
Mr.Fanthorp,whowasstandingnearby,murmured,“Very—er—impressive.”
“Grand,isn’tit?”saidSimonDoyle,strollingup.
HewentonconfidentiallytoPoirot:“Youknow,I’mnotmuchofafellowfortemplesandsightseeingandallthat,butaplacelikethissortofgetsyou,ifyouknowwhatImean.ThoseoldPharaohsmusthavebeenwonderfulfellows.”
Theotherhaddriftedaway.Simonloweredhisvoice.
“I’mnoendgladwecameonthistrip.It’s—well,it’sclearedthingsup.Amazingwhyitshould—butthereitis.Linnet’sgothernerveback.Shesay’sit’sbecauseshesactuallyfacedthebusinessatlast.”
“Ithinkthatisveryprobable,”saidPoirot.
“ShesaysthatwhensheactuallysawJackieontheboatshefeltterrible—andthen,suddenly,itdidn’tmatteranymore.We’rebothagreedthatwewon’ttrytododgeheranymore.We’lljustmeetheronherowngroundandshowherthatthisridiculousstuntofhersdoesn’tworryusabit.It’sjustdamnedbadform—that’sall.Shethoughtshe’dgotusbadlyrattled,butnow,well,wejustaren’trattledanymore.Thatoughttoshowher.”
“Yes,”saidPoirotthoughtfully.
“Sothat’ssplendid,isn’tit?”
“Oh,yes,yes.”
Linnetcamealongthedeck.Shewasdressedinasoftshadeofapricotlinen.Shewassmiling.ShegreetedPoirotwithnoparticularenthusiasm,justgavehimacoolnodandthendrewherhusbandaway.
Poirotrealizedwithamomentaryflickerofamusementthathehadnotmadehimselfpopularbyhiscriticalattitude.Linnetwasusedtounqualifiedadmirationofallshewasordid.HerculePoirothadsinnednoticeablyagainstthiscreed.
Mrs.Allerton,joininghim,murmured:
“Whatadifferenceinthatgirl!ShelookedworriedandnotveryhappyatAssuan.Todayshelookssohappythatonemightalmostbeafraidshewasfey.”
BeforePoirotcouldrespondashemeant,thepartywascalledtoorder.TheofficialdragomantookchargeandthepartywasledashoretovisitAbuSimbel.
PoirothimselffellintostepwithAndrewPennington.
“ItisyourfirstvisittoEgypt—yes?”heasked.
“Why,no,Iwashereinnineteentwenty-three.ThatistosayIwasinCairo.I’veneverbeenthistripuptheNilebefore.”
“YoucameoverontheCarmanic,Ibelieve—atleastsoMadameDoylewastellingme.”
Penningtonshotashrewdglanceinhisdirection.
“Why,yes,thatisso,”headmitted.
“Iwonderedifyouhadhappenedtocomeacrosssomefriendsofminewhowereaboard—theRushingtonSmiths.”
“Ican’trecallanyoneofthatname.Theboatwasfullandwehadbadweather.Alotofpassengershardlyappeared,andinanycasethevoyageissoshortonedoesn’tgettoknowwhoisonboardandwhoisn’t.”
“Yes,thatisverytrue.WhatapleasantsurpriseyourrunningintoMadameDoyleandherhusband.Youhadnoideatheyweremarried?”
“No.Mrs.Doylehadwrittenme,buttheletterwasforwardedonandIonlyreceiveditsomedaysafterourunexpectedmeetinginCairo.”
“Youhaveknownherformanyyears,Iunderstand?”
“Why,IshouldsayIhave,MonsieurPoirot.I’veknownLinnetRidgewaysinceshewasjustacutelittlethingsohigh—”Hemadeanillustratinggesture.“HerfatherandIwerelifelongfriends.Averyremarkableman,MelhuishRidgeway—andaverysuccessfulone.”
“Hisdaughtercomesintoaconsiderablefortune,Iunderstand…Ah,pardon—perhapsitisnotdelicatewhatIsaythere.”
AndrewPenningtonseemedslightlyamused.
“Oh,that’sprettycommonknowledge.Yes,Linnet’sawealthywoman.”
“Isuppose,though,thattherecentslumpisboundtoaffectanystocks,howeversoundtheymaybe?”
Penningtontookamomentortwotoanswer.Hesaidatlast:“That,ofcourse,istruetoacertainextent.Thepositionisverydifficultinthesedays.”
Poirotmurmured:“Ishouldimagine,however,thatMadameDoylehasakeenbusinesshead.”
“Thatisso.Yes,thatisso.Linnetisacleverpracticalgirl.”
Theycametoahalt.TheguideproceededtoinstructthemonthesubjectofthetemplebuiltbythegreatRameses.ThefourcolossiofRameseshimself,onepaironeachsideoftheentrance,hewnoutofthelivingrock,lookeddownonthelittlestragglingpartyoftourists.
SignorRichetti,disdainingtheremarksofthedragoman,wasbusyexaminingthereliefsofNegroandSyriancaptivesonthebasesofthecolossioneithersideoftheentrance.
Whenthepartyenteredthetemple,asenseofdimnessandpeacecameoverthem.Thestillvividlycolouredreliefsonsomeoftheinnerwallswerepointedout,butthepartytendedtobreakupintogroups.
Dr.BessnerreadsonorouslyinGermanfromaBaedeker,pausingeverynowandthentotranslateforthebenefitofCornelia,whowalkedinadocilemannerbesidehim.Thiswasnottocontinue,however.MissVanSchuyler,enteringonthearmofthephlegmaticMissBowers,utteredacommanding:“Cornelia,comehere,”andtheinstructionhadperforcetocease.Dr.Bessnerbeamedafterhervaguelythroughhisthicklenses.
“Averynicemaiden,that,”heannouncedtoPoirot.“Shedoesnotlooksostarvedassomeoftheseyoungwomen.No,shehasthenicecurves.Shelistenstooveryintelligently;itisapleasuretoinstructher.”
ItfleetedacrossPoirot’smindthatitseemedtobeCornelia’sfateeithertobebulliedorinstructed.Inanycaseshewasalwaysthelistener,neverthetalker.
MissBowers,momentarilyreleasedbytheperemptorysummonsofCornelia,wasstandinginthemiddleofthetemple,lookingaboutherwithhercool,incuriousgaze.Herreactiontothewondersofthepastwassuccinct.
“TheguidesaysthenameofoneofthesegodsorgoddesseswasMut.Canyoubeatit?”
Therewasaninnersanctuarywheresatfourfigureseternallypresiding,strangelydignifiedintheirdimaloofness.
BeforethemstoodLinnetandherhusband.Herarmwasinhis,herfacelifted—atypicalfaceofthenewcivilization,intelligent,curious,untouchedbythepast.
Simonsaidsuddenly:“Let’sgetoutofhere.Idon’tlikethesefourfellows—especiallytheoneinthehighhat.”
“That’sAmon,Isuppose.AndthatoneisRameses.Whydon’tyoulikethem?Ithinkthey’reveryimpressive.”
“They’readamnedsighttooimpressive;there’ssomethinguncannyaboutthem.Comeoutintothesunlight.”
Linnetlaughedbutyielded.
Theycameoutofthetempleintothesunshinewiththesandyellowandwarmabouttheirfeet.Linnetbegantolaugh.Attheirfeetinarow,presentingamomentarilygruesomeappearanceasthoughsawnfromtheirbodies,weretheheadsofhalfadozenNubianboys.Theeyesrolled,theheadsmovedrhythmicallyfromsidetoside,thelipschantedanewinvocation:
“Hip,hiphurray!Hip,hiphurray!Verygood,verynice.Thankyouverymuch.”
“Howabsurd!Howdotheydoit?Aretheyreallyburiedverydeep?”
Simonproducedsomesmallchange.
“Verygood,verynice,veryexpensive,”hemimicked.
Twosmallboysinchargeofthe“show”pickedupthecoinsneatly.
LinnetandSimonpassedon.Theyhadnowishtoreturntotheboat,andtheywerewearyofsightseeing.Theysettledthemselveswiththeirbackstothecliffandletthewarmsunbakethemthrough.
“Howlovelythesunis,”thoughtLinnet.“Howwarm—howsafe…Howlovelyitistobehappy…Howlovelytobeme—me…me…Linnet….”
Hereyesclosed.Shewashalfasleep,halfawake,driftinginthemidstofthoughtthatwaslikethesanddriftingandblowing.
Simon’seyeswereopen.Theytooheldcontentment.Whatafoolhe’dbeentoberattledthatfirstnight…Therewasnothingtoberattledabout…Everythingwasallright…Afterall,onecouldtrustJackie—
Therewasashout—peoplerunningtowardshimwavingtheirarms—shouting….
Simonstaredstupidlyforamoment.ThenhesprangtohisfeetanddraggedLinnetwithhim.
Notaminutetoosoon.Abigboulderhurtlingdownthecliffcrashedpastthem.IfLinnethadremainedwhereshewasshewouldhavebeencrushedtoatoms.
White-facedtheyclungtogether.HerculePoirotandTimAllertonranuptothem.
“Mafoi,Madame,thatwasanearthing.”
Allfourinstinctivelylookedupatthecliff.Therewasnothingtobeseen.Buttherewasapathalongthetop.Poirotrememberedseeingsomenativeswalkingalongtherewhentheyhadfirstcomeashore.
Helookedatthehusbandandwife.Linnetlookeddazedstill—bewildered.Simon,however,wasinarticulatewithrage.
“Goddamnher!”heejaculated.
HecheckedhimselfwithaquickglanceatTimAllerton.
Thelattersaid:“Phew,thatwasnear!Didsomefoolbowlthatthingover,ordiditgetdetachedonitsown?”
Linnetwasverypale.Shesaidwithdifficulty:“Ithink—somefoolmusthavedoneit.”
“Mighthavecrushedyoulikeaneggshell.Sureyouhaven’tgotanenemy,Linnet?”
Linnetswallowedtwiceandfoundadifficultyinansweringthelightheartedraillery.
“Comebacktotheboat,Madame,”Poirotsaidquickly.“Youmusthavearestorative.”
Theywalkedquickly,Simonstillfullofpent-uprage,TimtryingtotalkcheerfullyanddistractLinnet’smindfromthedangershehadrun,Poirotwithagraveface.
Andthen,justastheyreachedthegangplank,Simonstoppeddead.Alookofamazementspreadoverhisface.
JacquelinedeBellefortwasjustcomingashore.Dressedinbluegingham,shelookedchildishthismorning.
“GoodGod!”saidSimonunderhisbreath.“Soitwasanaccident,afterall.”
Theangerwentoutofhisface.AnoverwhelmingreliefshowedsoplainlythatJacquelinenoticedsomethingamiss.
“Goodmorning,”shesaid.“I’mafraidI’malittleonthelateside.”
Shegavethemallanodandsteppedashoreandproceededinthedirectionofthetemple.
SimonclutchedPoirot’sarm.Theothertwohadgoneon.
“MyGod,that’sarelief.Ithought—Ithought—”
Poirotnodded.“Yes,yes,Iknowwhatyouthought.”Buthehimselfstilllookedgraveandpreoccupied.Heturnedhisheadandnotedcarefullywhathadbecomeoftherestofthepartyfromtheship.
MissVanSchuylerwasslowlyreturningonthearmofMissBowers.
AlittlefartherawayMrs.AllertonwasstandinglaughingatthelittleNubianrowofheads.Mrs.Otterbournewaswithher.
Theotherswerenowhereinsight.
PoirotshookhisheadashefollowedSimonslowlyontotheboat.
Eleven
“Willyouexplaintome,Madame,themeaningoftheword‘fey’?”
Mrs.Allertonlookedslightlysurprised.SheandPoirotweretoilingslowlyuptotherockoverlookingtheSecondCataract.Mostoftheothershadgoneuponcamels,butPoirothadfeltthatthemotionofthecamelwasslightlyreminiscentofthatofaship.Mrs.Allertonhadputitonthegroundsofpersonalindignity.
TheyhadarrivedatWadiHalfathenightbefore.ThismorningtwolauncheshadconveyedallthepartytotheSecondCataract,withtheexceptionofSignorRichetti,whohadinsistedonmakinganexcursionofhisowntoaremotespotcalledSemna,which,heexplained,wasofparamountinterestasbeingthegatewayofNubiainthetimeofAmenemhetIII,andwheretherewasastelerecordingthefactthatonenteringEgyptNegroesmustpaycustomsduties.Everythinghadbeendonetodiscouragethisexampleofindividuality,butwithnoavail.SignorRichettiwasdeterminedandhadwavedasideeachobjection:(1)thattheexpeditionwasnotworthmaking,(2)thattheexpeditioncouldnotbemade,owingtotheimpossibilityofgettingacarthere,(3)thatnocarcouldbeobtainedtodothetrip,(4)thatacarwouldbeaprohibitiveprice.Havingscoffedat(1),expressedincredulityat(2),offeredtofindacarhimselfto(3),andbargainedfluentlyinArabicfor(4),SignorRichettihadatlastdeparted—hisdeparturebeingarrangedinasecretandfurtivemanner,incasesomeoftheothertouristsshouldtakeitintotheirheadstostrayfromtheappointedpathsofsightseeing.
“Fey?”Mrs.Allertonputherheadononesideassheconsideredherreply.“Well,it’saScotchword,really.Itmeansthekindofexaltedhappinessthatcomesbeforedisaster.Youknow—it’stoogoodtobetrue.”
Sheenlargedonthetheme.Poirotlistenedattentively.
“Ithankyou,Madame.Iunderstandnow.Itisoddthatyoushouldhavesaidthatyesterday—whenMadameDoylewastoescapedeathsoshortlyafterwards.”
Mrs.Allertongavealittleshiver.
“Itmusthavebeenaverynearescape.Doyouthinksomeoftheselittleblackwretchesrolleditoverforfun?It’sthesortofthingboysmightdoallovertheworld—notperhapsreallymeaninganyharm.”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Itmaybe,Madame.”
Hechangedthesubject,talkingofMajorcaandaskingvariouspracticalquestionsfromthepointofviewofapossiblevisit.
Mrs.Allertonhadgrowntolikethelittlemanverymuch—partlyperhapsoutofacontradictoryspirit.Tim,shefelt,wasalwaystryingtomakeherlessfriendlytoHerculePoirot,whomhesummarizedfirmlyas“theworstkindofbounder.”Butsheherselfdidnotcallhimabounder;shesupposeditwashissomewhatforeignexoticclothingwhichrousedherson’sprejudices.Sheherselffoundhimanintelligentandstimulatingcompanion.Hewasalsoextremelysympathetic.ShefoundherselfsuddenlyconfidinginhimherdislikeofJoannaSouthwood.Iteasedhertotalkofthematter.Andafterall,whynot?HedidnotknowJoanna—wouldprobablynevermeether.Whyshouldshenoteaseherselfofthatconstantlyborneburdenofjealousthought?
AtthesamemomentTimandRosalieOtterbourneweretalkingofher.Timhadjustbeenhalfjestinglyabusinghisluck.Hisrottenhealth,neverbadenoughtobereallyinteresting,yetnotgoodenoughforhimtohaveledthelifehewouldhavechosen.Verylittlemoney,nocongenialoccupation.
“Athoroughlylukewarm,tameexistence,”hefinisheddiscontentedly.
Rosaliesaidabruptly,“You’vegotsomethingheapsofpeoplewouldenvyyou.”
“What’sthat?”
“Yourmother.”
Timwassurprisedandpleased.
“Mother?Yes,ofcoursesheisquiteunique.It’sniceofyoutoseeit.”
“Ithinkshe’smarvellous.Shelookssolovely—socomposedandcalm—asthoughnothingcouldevertouchher,andyet—andyetsomehowshe’salwaysreadytobefunnyaboutthingstoo….”
Rosaliewasstammeringslightlyinherearnestness.
Timfeltarisingwarmthtothegirl.Hewishedhecouldreturnthecompliment,butlamentably,Mrs.Otterbournewashisideaoftheworld’sgreatestmenace.Theinabilitytorespondinkindmadehimembarrassed.
MissVanSchuylerhadstayedinthelaunch.Shecouldnotrisktheascenteitheronacameloronherlegs.Shehadsaidsnappily:
“I’msorrytohavetoaskyoutostaywithme,MissBowers.IintendedyoutogoandCorneliatostay,butgirlsaresoselfish.Sherushedoffwithoutawordtome.AndIactuallysawhertalkingtothatveryunpleasantandill-bredyoungman,Ferguson.Corneliahasdisappointedmesadly.Shehasabsolutelynosocialsense.”
MissBowersrepliedinherusualmatter-of-factfashion:
“That’squiteallright,MissVanSchuyler.Itwouldhavebeenahotwalkupthere,andIdon’tfancythelookofthosesaddlesonthecamels.Fleas,aslikelyasnot.”
Sheadjustedherglasses,screweduphereyestolookatthepartydescendingthehillandremarked:“MissRobsonisn’twiththatyoungmananymore.She’swithDr.Bessner.”
MissVanSchuylergrunted.
SinceshehaddiscoveredthatDr.BessnerhadalargeclinicinCzechoslovakiaandaEuropeanreputationasafashionablephysician,shewasdisposedtobegracioustohim.Besidesshemightneedhisprofessionalservicesbeforethejourneywasover.
WhenthepartyreturnedtotheKarnakLinnetgaveacryofsurprise.
“Atelegramforme.”
Shesnatcheditofftheboardandtoreitopen.
“Why—Idon’tunderstand—potatoes,beetroots—whatdoesitmean,Simon?”
Simonwasjustcomingtolookoverhershoulderwhenafuriousvoicesaid:“Excuseme,thattelegramisforme,”andSignorRichettisnatcheditrudelyfromherhand,fixingherwithafuriousglareashedidso.
Linnetstaredinsurpriseforamoment,thenturnedovertheenvelope.
“Oh,Simon,whatafoolIam!It’sRichetti—notRidgeway—andanywayofcoursemynameisn’tRidgewaynow.Imustapologize.”
Shefollowedthelittlearchaeologistuptothesternoftheboat.
“Iamsosorry,SignorRichetti.YouseemynamewasRidgewaybeforeImarried,andIhaven’tbeenmarriedverylong,andso….”
Shepaused,herfacedimpledwithsmiles,invitinghimtosmileuponayoungbride’sfauxpas.
ButRichettiwasobviously“notamused.”QueenVictoriaathermostdisapprovingcouldnothavelookedmoregrim.“Namesshouldbereadcarefully.Itisinexcusabletobecarelessinthesematters.”
Linnetbitherlipandhercolourrose.Shewasnotaccustomedtohaveherapologiesreceivedinthisfashion.Sheturnedawayand,rejoiningSimon,saidangrily,“TheseItaliansarereallyinsupportable.”
“Nevermind,darling;let’sgoandlookatthatbigivorycrocodileyouliked.”
Theywentashoretogether.
Poirot,watchingthemwalkupthelandingstage,heardasharpindrawnbreath.HeturnedtoseeJacquelinedeBellefortathisside.Herhandswereclenchedontherail.Theexpressiononherface,assheturnedittowardshim,quitestartledhim.Itwasnolongergayormalicious.Shelookeddevouredbysomeinnerconsumingfire.
“Theydon’tcareanymore.”Thewordscamelowandfast.“They’vegotbeyondme.Ican’treachthem…Theydon’tmindifI’mhereornot…Ican’t—Ican’thurtthemanymore….”
Herhandsontherailtrembled.
“Mademoiselle—”
Shebrokein:“Oh,it’stoolatenow—toolateforwarnings…Youwereright.Ioughtnottohavecome.Notonthisjourney.Whatdidyoucallit?Ajourneyofthesoul?Ican’tgoback;I’vegottogoon.AndI’mgoingon.Theyshan’tbehappytogether;theyshan’t.I’dkillhimsooner….”
Sheturnedabruptlyaway.Poirot,staringafterher,feltahandonhisshoulder.
“Yourgirlfriendseemsatrifleupset,MonsieurPoirot.”Poirotturned.Hestaredinsurprise,seeinganoldacquaintance.
“ColonelRace.”
Thetallbronzedmansmiled.
“Bitofasurprise,eh?”
HerculePoirothadcomeacrossColonelRaceayearpreviouslyinLondon.Theyhadbeenfellowguestsataverystrangedinnerparty—adinnerpartythathadendedindeathforthatstrangeman,theirhost.
PoirotknewthatRacewasamanofunadvertisedgoingsandcomings.HewasusuallytobefoundinoneoftheoutpostsofEmpirewheretroublewasbrewing.
“SoyouarehereatWadiHalfa,”heremarkedthoughtfully.
“Iamhereonthisboat.”
“Youmean?”
“ThatIammakingthereturnjourneywithyoutoShellal.”
HerculePoirot’seyebrowsrose.
“Thatisveryinteresting.Shallwe,perhaps,havealittledrink?”
Theywentintotheobservationsaloon,nowquiteempty.PoirotorderedawhiskyfortheColonelandadoubleorangeadefullofsugarforhimself.
“Soyoumakethereturnjourneywithus,”saidPoirotashesipped.“Youwouldgofaster,wouldyounot,ontheGovernmentsteamer,whichtravelsbynightaswellasday?”
ColonelRace’sfacecreasedappreciatively.
“You’rerightonthespotasusual,MonsieurPoirot,”hesaidpleasantly.
“Itis,then,thepassengers?”
“Oneofthepassengers.”
“Nowwhichone,Iwonder?”HerculePoirotaskedoftheornateceiling.
“UnfortunatelyIdon’tknowmyself,”saidRaceruefully.
Poirotlookedinterested.
Racesaid:“There’snoneedtobemysterioustoyou.We’vehadagooddealoftroubleouthere—onewayandanother.Itisn’tthepeoplewhoostensiblyleadtheriotersthatwe’reafter.It’sthemenwhoverycleverlyputthematchtothegunpowder.Therewerethreeofthem.One’sdead.One’sinprison.Iwantthethirdman—amanwithfiveorsixcold-bloodedmurderstohiscredit.He’soneofthecleverestpaidagitatorsthateverexisted…He’sonthisboat.Iknowthatfromapassageinaletterthatpassedthroughourhands.Decodeditsaid:‘XwillbeontheKarnaktripseventhtothirteenth.’Itdidn’tsayunderwhatnameXwouldbepassing.”
“Haveyouanydescriptionofhim?”
“No.American,Irish,andFrenchdescent.Bitofamongrel.Thatdoesn’thelpusmuch.Haveyougotanyideas?”
“Anidea—itisallverywell,”saidPoirotmeditatively.
SuchwastheunderstandingbetweenthemthatRacepressedhimnofurther.HeknewHerculePoirotdidnoteverspeakunlesshewassure.
Poirotrubbedhisnoseandsaidunhappily:“Therepassesitselfsomethingonthisboatthatcausesmemuchinquietude.”
Racelookedathiminquiringly.
“Figuretoyourself,”saidPoirot,“apersonAwhohasgrievouslywrongedapersonB.ThepersonBdesirestherevenge.ThepersonBmakesthethreats.”
“AandBbeingbothonthisboat?”
Poirotnodded.“Precisely.”
“AndB,Igather,beingawoman?”
“Exactly.”
Racelitacigarette.
“Ishouldn’tworry.Peoplewhogoabouttalkingofwhattheyaregoingtododon’tusuallydoit.”
“Andparticularlyisthatthecasewithlesfemmes,youwouldsay!Yes,thatistrue.”
Buthestilldidnotlookhappy.
“Anythingelse?”askedRace.
“Yes,thereissomething.YesterdaythepersonAhadaverynearescapefromdeath,thekindofdeaththatmightveryconvenientlybecalledanaccident.”
“EngineeredbyB?”
“No,thatisjustthepoint.Bcouldhavehadnothingtodowithit.”
“Thenitwasanaccident.”
“Isupposeso—butIdon’tlikesuchaccidents.”
“You’requitesureBcouldhavehadnohandinit?”
“Absolutely.”
“Oh,well,coincidencesdohappen.WhoisA,bytheway?Aparticularlydisagreeableperson?”
“Onthecontrary.Aisacharming,rich,andbeautifulyounglady.”
Racegrinned.
“Soundsquitelikeanovelette.”
“Peut-être.ButItellyou,Iamnothappy,myfriend.IfIamright,andafterallIamconstantlyinthehabitofbeingright”—Racesmiledintohismoustacheatthistypicalutterance—“thenthereismatterforgraveinquietude.Andnow,youcometoaddyetanothercomplication.YoutellmethatthereisamanontheKarnakwhokills.”
“Hedoesn’tusuallykillcharmingyoungladies.”
Poirotshookhisheadinadissatisfiedmanner.
“Iamafraid,myfriend,”hesaid.“Iamafraid…Today,Iadvisedthislady,MadameDoyle,togowithherhusbandtoKhartoum,nottoreturnonthisboat.Buttheywouldnotagree.IpraytoHeaventhatwemayarriveatShellalwithoutcatastrophe.”
“Aren’tyoutakingratheragloomyview?”
Poirotshookhishead.
“Iamafraid,”hesaidsimply.“Yes,I,HerculePoirot,I’mafraid….”
Twelve
I
CorneliaRobsonstoodinsidethetempleofAbuSimbel.Itwastheeveningofthefollowingday—ahotstillevening.TheKarnakwasanchoredoncemoreatAbuSimbeltopermitasecondvisittobemadetothetemple,thistimebyartificiallight.Thedifferencethismadewasconsiderable,andCorneliacommentedwonderinglyonthefacttoMr.Ferguson,whowasstandingbyherside.
“Why,youseeiteversomuchbetternow!”sheexclaimed.“AllthoseenemieshavingtheirheadscutoffbytheKing—theyjuststandrightout.That’sacutekindofcastletherethatInevernoticedbefore.IwishDr.Bessnerwashere,he’dtellmewhatitwas.”
“Howyoucanstandthatoldfoolbeatsme,”saidFergusongloomily.
“Why,he’sjustoneofthekindestmenI’veevermet.”
“Pompousoldbore.”
“Idon’tthinkyououghttospeakthatway.”
Theyoungmangrippedhersuddenlybythearm.Theywerejustemergingfromthetempleintothemoonlight.
“Whydoyoustickbeingboredbyfatoldmen—andbulliedandsnubbedbyaviciousoldharridan?”
“Why,Mr.Ferguson!”
“Haven’tyougotanyspirit?Don’tyouknowyou’rejustasgoodassheis?”
“ButI’mnot!”Corneliaspokewithhonestconviction.
“You’renotasrich;that’sallyoumean.”
“No,itisn’t.CousinMarie’sverycultured,and—”
“Cultured!”Theyoungmanletgoofherarmassuddenlyashehadtakenit.“Thatwordmakesmesick.”
Cornelialookedathiminalarm.
“Shedoesn’tlikeyoutalkingtome,doesshe?”askedtheyoungman.
Corneliablushedandlookedembarrassed
“Why?BecauseshethinksI’mnothersocialequal!Pah!Doesn’tthatmakeyouseered?”
Corneliafalteredout:“Iwishyouwouldn’tgetsomadaboutthings.”
“Don’tyourealize—andyouanAmerican—thateveryoneisbornfreeandequal?”
“They’renot,”saidCorneliawithcalmcertainty.
“Mygoodgirl,it’spartofyourconstitution!”
“CousinMariesayspoliticiansaren’tgentlemen,”saidCornelia.“Andofcoursepeoplearen’tequal.Itdoesn’tmakesense.IknowI’mkindofhomely-looking,andIusedtofeelmortifiedaboutitsometimes,butI’vegotoverthat.I’dliketohavebeenbornelegantandbeautifullikeMrs.Doyle,butIwasn’t,soIguessit’snouseworrying.”
“Mrs.Doyle!”exclaimedFergusonwithdeepcontempt.“She’sthesortofwomanwhooughttobeshotasanexample.”
Cornelialookedathimanxiously.
“Ibelieveit’syourdigestion,”shesaidkindly.“I’vegotaspecialkindofpepsinthatCousinMarietriedonce.Wouldyouliketotryit?”
Mr.Fergusonsaid:“You’reimpossible!”
Heturnedandstrodeaway.Corneliawentontowardstheboat.Justasshewascrossingthegangwayhecaughtheruponcemore.
“You’rethenicestpersonontheboat,”hesaid.“Andmindyourememberit.”
BlushingwithpleasureCorneliarepairedtotheobservationsaloon.MissVanSchuylerwasconversingwithDr.Bessner—anagreeableconversationdealingwithcertainroyalpatientsofhis.
Corneliasaidguiltily:“IdohopeIhaven’tbeenalongtime,CousinMarie.”
Glancingatherwatch,theoldladysnapped:“Youhaven’texactlyhurried,mydear.Andwhathaveyoudonewithmyvelvetstole?”
Cornelialookedround.
“ShallIseeifit’sinthecabin,CousinMarie?”
“Ofcourseitisn’t!Ihaditjustafterdinnerinhere,andIhaven’tmovedoutoftheplace.Itwasonthatchair.”
Corneliamadeadesultorysearch.
“Ican’tseeitanywhere,CousinMarie.”
“Nonsense!”saidMissVanSchuyler.“Lookabout.”Itwasanordersuchasonemightgivetoadog,andinherdoglikefashionCorneliaobeyed.ThequietMr.Fanthorp,whowassittingatatablenearby,roseandassistedher.Butthestolecouldnotbefound.
Thedayhadbeensuchanunusuallyhotandsultryonethatmostpeoplehadretiredearlyaftergoingashoretoviewthetemple.TheDoyleswereplayingbridgewithPenningtonandRaceatatableinacorner.TheonlyotheroccupantofthesaloonwasHerculePoirot,whowasyawninghisheadoffatasmalltablenearthedoor.
MissVanSchuyler,makingaRoyalProgressbedward,withCorneliaandMissBowersinattendance,pausedbyhischair.Hesprangpolitelytohisfeet,stiflingayawnofgargantuandimensions.
MissVanSchuylersaid:“Ihaveonlyjustrealizedwhoyouare,MonsieurPoirot.ImaytellyouthatIhaveheardofyoufrommyoldfriendRufusVanAldin.Youmusttellmeaboutyourcasessometime.”
Poirot,hiseyestwinklingalittlethroughtheirsleepiness,bowedinanexaggeratedmanner.Withakindlybutcondescendingnod,MissVanSchuylerpassedon.
Poirotyawnedoncemore.Hefeltheavyandstupidwithsleepandcouldhardlykeephiseyesopen.Heglancedoveratthebridgeplayers,absorbedintheirgame,thenatyoungFanthorp,whowasdeepinabook.Apartfromthemthesaloonwasempty.
Hepassedthroughtheswingdooroutontothedeck.JacquelinedeBellefort,comingprecipitatelyalongthedeck,almostcollidedwithhim.
“Pardon,Mademoiselle.”
Shesaid:“Youlooksleepy,MonsieurPoirot.”
Headmitteditfrankly:
“Maisoui—Iamconsumedwithsleep.Icanhardlykeepmyeyesopen.Ithasbeenadayverycloseandoppressive.”
“Yes.”Sheseemedtobroodoverit.“It’sbeenthesortofdaywhenthings—snap!Break!Whenonecan’tgoon….”
Hervoicewaslowandchargedwithpassion.Shelookednotathim,buttowardsthesandyshore.Herhandswereclenched,rigid….
Suddenlythetensionrelaxed.Shesaid:“Goodnight,MonsieurPoirot.”
“Goodnight,Mademoiselle.”
Hereyesmethis,justforaswiftmoment.Thinkingitoverthenextday,hecametotheconclusionthattherehadbeenappealinthatglance.Hewastorememberitafterwards.
Thenhepassedontohiscabinandshewenttowardsthesaloon.
II
Cornelia,havingdealtwithMissVanSchuyler’smanyneedsandfantasies,tooksomeneedleworkwithherbacktothesaloon.Sheherselfdidnotfeelintheleastsleepy.Onthecontraryshefeltwideawakeandslightlyexcited.
Thebridgefourwerestillatit.InanotherchairthequietFanthorpreadabook.Corneliasatdowntoherneedlework.
SuddenlythedooropenedandJacquelinedeBellefortcamein.Shestoodinthedoorway,herheadthrownback.ThenshepressedabellandsaunteredacrosstoCorneliaandsatdown.
“Beenashore?”sheasked.
“Yes.Ithoughtitwasjustfascinatinginthemoonlight.”
Jacquelinenodded.
“Yes,lovelynight…Arealhoneymoonnight.”
Hereyeswenttothebridgetable—restedamomentonLinnetDoyle.
Theboycameinanswertothebell.Jacquelineorderedadoublegin.AsshegavetheorderSimonDoyleshotaquickglanceather.Afaintlineofanxietyshowedbetweenhiseyebrows.
Hiswifesaid:“Simon,we’rewaitingforyoutocall.”
Jacquelinehummedalittletunetoherself.Whenthedrinkcame,shepickeditup,said:“Well,here’stocrime,”drankitoffandorderedanother.
AgainSimonlookedacrossfromthebridgetable.Hiscallsbecameslightlyabsentminded.Hispartner,Pennington,tookhimtotask.
Jacquelinebegantohumagain,atfirstunderherbreath,thenlouder:
“Hewashermanandhedidherwrong….”
“Sorry,”saidSimontoPennington.“Stupidofmenottoreturnyourlead.Thatgives’emrubber.”
Linnetrosetoherfeet.
“I’msleepy.IthinkI’llgotobed.”
“Abouttimetoturnin,”saidColonelRace.
“I’mwithyou,”agreedPennington.
“Coming,Simon?”
Doylesaidslowly:“Notjustyet.IthinkI’llhaveadrinkfirst.”
Linnetnoddedandwentout.Racefollowedher.Penningtonfinishedhisdrinkandthenfollowedsuit.
Corneliabegantogatherupherembroidery.
“Don’tgotobed,MissRobson,”saidJacqueline.“Pleasedon’t.Ifeellikemakinganightofit.Don’tdesertme.”
Corneliasatdownagain.
“Wegirlsmuststicktogether,”saidJacqueline.
Shethrewbackherheadandlaughed—ashrilllaughwithoutmerriment.
Theseconddrinkcame.
“Havesomething,”saidJacqueline.
“No,thankyouverymuch,”repliedCornelia.
Jacquelinetiltedbackherchair.Shehummednowloudly:“Hewashermanandhedidherwrong….”
Mr.FanthorpturnedapageofEuropefromWithin.
SimonDoylepickedupamagazine.
“Really,IthinkI’llgotobed,”saidCornelia.“It’sgettingverylate.”
“Youcan’tgotobedyet,”Jacquelinedeclared.“Iforbidyouto.Tellmeaboutyourself.”
“Well—Idon’tknow.Thereisn’tmuchtotell,”Corneliafaltered.“I’vejustlivedathome,andIhaven’tbeenaroundmuch.ThisismyfirsttriptoEurope.I’mjustlovingeveryminuteofit.”
Jacquelinelaughed.
“You’reahappysortofperson,aren’tyou?God,I’dliketobeyou.”
“Oh,wouldyou?ButImean—I’msure—”
Corneliafeltflustered.UndoubtedlyMissdeBellefortwasdrinkingtoomuch.Thatwasn’texactlyanoveltytoCornelia.ShehadseenplentyofdrunkennessduringProhibitionyears.Buttherewassomethingelse…JacquelinedeBellefortwastalkingtoher—waslookingather—andyet,Corneliafelt,itwasasthough,somehow,shewastalkingtosomeoneelse….
Buttherewereonlytwootherpeopleintheroom,Mr.FanthorpandMr.Doyle.Mr.Fanthorpseemedquiteabsorbedinhisbook.Mr.Doylewaslookingratherodd—aqueersortofwatchfullookonhisface.
Jacquelinesaidagain:“Tellmeallaboutyourself.”
Alwaysobedient,Corneliatriedtocomply.Shetalked,ratherheavily,goingintounnecessarysmalldetailsaboutherdailylife.Shewassounusedtobeingthetalker.Herrolewassoconstantlythatofthelistener.AndyetMissdeBellefortseemedtowanttoknow.WhenCorneliafalteredtoastandstill,theothergirlwasquicktoprompther.
“Goon—tellmemore.”
AndsoCorneliawenton(“Ofcourse,Mother’sverydelicate—somedaysshetouchesnothingbutcereals—”)unhappilyconsciousthatallshesaidwassupremelyuninteresting,yetflatteredbytheothergirl’sseeminginterest.Butwassheinterested?Wasn’tshe,somehow,listeningtosomethingelse—or,perhaps,forsomethingelse?ShewaslookingatCornelia,yes,butwasn’ttheresomeoneelse,sittingintheroom?
“Andofcoursewegetverygoodartclasses,andlastwinterIhadacourseof—”
(Howlatewasit?Surelyverylate.Shehadbeentalkingandtalking.Ifonlysomethingdefinitewouldhappen—)
Andimmediately,asthoughinanswertoherwish,somethingdidhappen.Only,atthatmoment,itseemedverynatural.
JacquelineturnedherheadandspoketoSimonDoyle.
“Ringthebell,Simon.Iwantanotherdrink.”
SimonDoylelookedupfromhismagazineandsaidquietly:“Thestewardshavegonetobed.It’saftermidnight.”
“ItellyouIwantanotherdrink.”
Simonsaid:“You’vehadquiteenoughtodrink,Jackie.”
Sheswungroundathim.
“Whatdamnedbusinessisitofyours?”
Heshruggedhisshoulders,“None.”
Shewatchedhimforaminuteortwo.Thenshesaid:“What’sthematter,Simon?Areyouafraid?”
Simondidnotanswer.Ratherelaboratelyhepickeduphismagazineagain.
Corneliamurmured:“Oh,dear—aslateasthat—I—must—”
Shebegantofumble,droppedathimble….
Jacquelinesaid:“Don’tgotobed.I’dlikeanotherwomanhere—tosupportme.”Shebegantolaughagain.“DoyouknowwhatSimonoverthereisafraidof?He’safraidI’mgoingtotellyouthestoryofmylife.”
“Oh,really?”
Corneliawasthepreyofconflictingemotions.Shewasdeeplyembarrassedbutatthesametimepleasurablythrilled.How—howblackSimonDoylewaslooking.
“Yes,it’saverysadstory,”saidJacqueline;hersoftvoicewaslowandmocking.“Hetreatedmeratherbadly,didn’tyou,Simon?”
SimonDoylesaidbrutally:“Gotobed,Jackie.You’redrunk.”
“Ifyou’reembarrassed,Simondear,you’dbetterleavetheroom.”
SimonDoylelookedather.Thehandthatheldthemagazineshookalittle,buthespokebluntly.
“I’mstaying,”hesaid.
Corneliamurmuredforthethirdtime,“Ireallymust—it’ssolate—”
“You’renottogo,”saidJacqueline.Herhandshotoutandheldtheothergirlinherchair.“You’retostayandhearwhatI’vegotosay.”
“Jackie,”saidSimonsharply,“you’remakingafoolofyourself!ForGod’ssake,gotobed.”
Jacquelinesatupsuddenlyinherchair.Wordspouredfromherrapidlyinasofthissingstream.
“You’reafraidofascene,aren’tyou?That’sbecauseyou’resoEnglish—soreticent!Youwantmetobehave‘decently,’don’tyou?ButIdon’tcarewhetherIbehavedecentlyornot!You’dbettergetoutofherequickly—becauseI’mgoingtotalk—alot.”
JimFanthorpcarefullyshuthisbook,yawned,glancedathiswatch,gotupandstrolledout.ItwasaveryBritishandutterlyunconvincingperformance.
JacquelineswungroundinherchairandglaredatSimon.
“Youdamnedfool,”shesaidthickly,“doyouthinkyoucantreatmeasyouhavedoneandgetawaywithit?”
SimonDoyleopenedhislips,thenshutthemagain.Hesatquitestillasthoughhewerehopingthatheroutburstwouldexhaustitselfifhesaidnothingtoprovokeherfurther.
Jacqueline’svoicecamethickandblurred.ItfascinatedCornelia,totallyunusedtonakedemotionsofanykind.
“Itoldyou,”saidJacqueline,“thatI’dkillyousoonerthanseeyougotoanotherwoman…Youdon’tthinkImeantthat?You’rewrong.I’veonlybeen—waiting!You’remyman!Doyouhear?Youbelongtome….”
StillSimondidnotspeak.Jacqueline’shandfumbledamomentortwoonherlap.Sheleantforward.
“ItoldyouI’dkillyouandImeantit…”Herhandcameupsuddenlywithsomethinginitthatflashedandgleamed.“I’llshootyoulikeadog—likethedirtydogyouare….”
NowatlastSimonacted.Hesprangtohisfeet,butatthesamemomentshepulledthetrigger….
Simonfelltwisted—fellacrossachair…Corneliascreamedandrushedtothedoor.JimFanthorpwasonthedeckleaningovertherail.Shecalledtohim.
“Mr.Fanthorp…Mr.Fanthorp….”
Herantoher;sheclutchedathimincoherently….
“She’sshothim—Oh!she’sshothim….”
SimonDoylestilllayashehadfallenhalfintoandacrossachair…Jacquelinestoodasthoughparalysed.Shewastremblingviolently,andhereyes,dilatedandfrightened,werestaringatthecrimsonstainslowlysoakingthroughSimon’strouserlegjustbelowthekneewhereheheldahandkerchiefcloseagainstthewound.
Shestammeredout:
“Ididn’tmean…Oh,myGod,Ididn’treallymean….”
Thepistoldroppedfromhernervousfingerswithaclatteronthefloor.Shekickeditawaywithherfoot.Itslidunderoneofthesettees.
Simon,hisvoicefaint,murmured:“Fanthorp,forheaven’ssake—there’ssomeonecoming…Sayit’sallright—anaccident—something.Theremustn’tbeascandaloverthis.”
Fanthorpnoddedinquickcomprehension.HewheeledroundtothedoorwhereastartledNubianfaceshowed.Hesaid:“Allright—allright!Justfun!”
Theblackfacelookeddoubtful,puzzled,thenreassured.Theteethshowedinawidegrin.Theboynoddedandwentoff
Fanthorpturnedback.
“That’sallright.Don’tthinkanybodyelseheard.Onlysoundedlikeacork,youknow.Nowthenextthing—”
Hewasstartled.Jacquelinesuddenlybegantoweephysterically.
“Oh,God,IwishIweredead…I’llkillmyself.
I’llbebetterdead…Oh,whathaveIdone—whathaveIdone?”
Corneliahurriedtoher.
“Hush,dear,hush.”
Simon,hisbrowwet,hisfacetwistedwithpain,saidurgently:
“Getheraway.ForGod’ssake,getheroutofhere!Gethertohercabin,Fanthorp.Lookhere,MissRobson,getthathospitalnurseofyours.”Helookedappealinglyfromonetotheotherofthem.“Don’tleaveher.Makequitesureshe’ssafewiththenurselookingafterher.ThengetholdofoldBessnerandbringhimhere.ForGod’ssake,don’tletanynewsofthisgettomywife.”
JimFanthorpnoddedcomprehendingly.Thequietyoungmanwascoolandcompetentinanemergency.
Betweenthem,heandCorneliagottheweeping,strugglinggirloutofthesaloonandalongthedecktohercabin.Theretheyhadmoretroublewithher.Shefoughttofreeherself;hersobsredoubled.
“I’lldrownmyself…I’lldrownmyself….
I’mnotfittolive…Oh,Simon—Simon!”
FanthorpsaidtoCornelia:“BettergetholdofMissBowers.I’llstaywhileyougether.”
Cornelianoddedandhurriedout.
Assoonassheleft,JacquelineclutchedFanthorp.
“Hisleg—it’sbleeding—broken…Hemaybleedtodeath.Imustgotohim…Oh,Simon—Simon—howcouldI?”
Hervoicerose.Fanthorpsaidurgently:“Quietly—quietly…He’llbeallright.”
Shebegantostruggleagain.
“Letmego!Letmethrowmyselfoverboard…Letmekillmyself!”
Fanthorpholdingherbytheshouldersforcedherbackontothebed.
“Youmuststayhere.Don’tmakeafuss.Pullyourselftogether.It’sallright,Itellyou.”
Tohisrelief,thedistraughtgirldidmanagetocontrolherselfalittle,buthewasthankfulwhenthecurtainswerepushedasideandtheefficientMissBowers,neatlydressedinahideouskimono,entered,accompaniedbyCornelia.
“Nowthen,”saidMissBowersbriskly,“what’sallthis?”
Shetookchargewithoutanysignofsurpriseandalarm.
FanthorpthankfullylefttheoverwroughtgirlinhercapablehandsandhurriedalongtothecabinoccupiedbyDr.Bessner.Heknockedandenteredontopoftheknock.
“Dr.Bessner?”
Aterrificsnoreresolveditself,andastartledvoiceasked:“So?Whatisit?”
BythistimeFanthorphadswitchedthelighton.Thedoctorblinkedupathim,lookingratherlikealargeowl.
“It’sDoyle.He’sbeenshot.MissdeBellefortshothim.He’sinthesaloon.Canyoucome?”
Thestoutdoctorreactedpromptly.Heaskedafewcurtquestions,pulledonhisbedroomslippersandadressing-gown,pickedupalittlecaseofnecessariesandaccompaniedFanthorptothelounge.
Simonhadmanagedtogetthewindowbesidehimopen.Hewasleaninghisheadagainstit,inhalingtheair.Hisfacewasaghastlycolour.
Dr.Bessnercameovertohim.
“Ha?So?Whathavewehere?”
Ahandkerchiefsoddenwithbloodlayonthecarpet,andonthecarpetitselfwasadarkstain.
Thedoctor’sexaminationwaspunctuatedwithTeutonicgruntsandexclamations
“Yes,itisbadthis…Theboneisfractured.Andabiglossofblood.HerrFanthorp,youandImustgethimtomycabin.So—likethis.Hecannotwalk.Wemustcarryhim,thus.”
AstheyliftedhimCorneliaappearedinthedoorway.Catchingsightofher,thedoctorutteredagruntofsatisfaction.
“Ach,itisyou?Goot.Comewithus.Ihaveneedofassistance.Youwillbebetterthanmyfriendhere.Helooksalittlepalealready.”
Fanthorpemittedarathersicklysmile.
“ShallIgetMissBowers?”heasked.
“Youwilldoverywell,younglady,”heannounced.“Youwillnotfaintorbefoolish,hein?”
“Icandowhatyoutellme,”saidCorneliaeagerly.
Bessnernoddedinasatisfiedfashion.
Theprocessionpassedalongthedeck.
ThenexttenminuteswerepurelysurgicalandMr.JimFanthorpdidnotenjoyitatall.HefeltsecretlyashamedofthesuperiorfortitudeexhibitedbyCornelia.
“So,thatisthebestIcando,”announcedDr.Bessneratlast.“Youhavebeenahero,myfriend.”HepattedSimonapprovinglyontheshoulder.Thenherolleduphissleeveandproducedahypodermicneedle.
“AndnowIwillgiveyousomethingtomakeyousleep.Yourwife,whatabouther?”
Simonsaidweakly:“Sheneedn’tknowtillthemorning…”Hewenton:“I—youmustn’tblameJackie…It’sbeenallmyfault.Itreatedherdisgracefully…poorkid—shedidn’tknowwhatshewasdoing….”
Dr.Bessnernoddedcomprehendingly.
“Yes,yes—Iunderstand….”
“Myfault—”Simonurged.HiseyeswenttoCornelia.“Someone—oughttostaywithher.Shemight—hurtherself—”
Dr.Bessnerinjectedtheneedle.Corneliasaid,withquietcompetence:It’sallright,Mr.Doyle.MissBowersisgoingtostaywithherallnight….”
AgratefullookflashedoverSimon’sface.Hisbodyrelaxed.Hiseyesclosed.Suddenlyhejerkedthemopen.“Fanthorp?”
“Yes,Doyle.”
“Thepistol…oughtnottoleaveit…lyingabout.Theboyswillfinditinthemorning….”
Fanthorpnodded.“Quiteright.I’llgoandgetholdofitnow.”
Hewentoutofthecabinandalongthedeck.MissBowersappearedatthedoorofJacqueline’scabin.
“She’llbeallrightnow,”sheannounced.
“I’vegivenheramorphineinjection.”
“Butyou’llstaywithher?”
“Oh,yes.Morphiaexcitessomepeople.Ishallstayallnight.”
Fanthorpwentontothelounge.
SomethreeminuteslatertherewasataponBessner’scabindoor.
“Dr.Bessner?”
“Yes?”Thestoutmanappeared.
Fanthorpbeckonedhimoutonthedeck.
“Lookhere—Ican’tfindthatpistol….”
“Whatisthat?”
“Thepistol.Itdroppedoutofthegirl’shand.Shekickeditawayanditwentunderasettee.Itisn’tunderthatsetteenow.”
Theystaredateachother.
“Butwhocanhavetakenit?”
Fanthorpshruggedhisshoulders.
Bessnersaid:“Itiscurious,that.ButIdonotseewhatwecandoaboutit.”
Puzzledandvaguelyalarmed,thetwomenseparated.
Thirteen
HerculePoirotwasjustwipingthelatherfromhisfreshlyshavedfacewhentherewasaquicktaponthedoor,andhardontopofitColonelRaceenteredunceremoniously.Heclosedthedoorbehindhim.
Hesaid:“Yourinstinctwasquitecorrect.It’shappened.”
Poirotstraightenedupandaskedsharply:“Whathashappened?”
“LinnetDoyle’sdead—shotthroughtheheadlastnight.”
Poirotwassilentforaminute,twomemoriesvividlybeforehim—agirlinagardenatAssuansayinginahardbreathlessvoice:“I’dliketoputmydearlittlepistolagainstherheadandjustpressthetrigger,”andanothermorerecentmemory,thesamevoicesaying:“Onefeelsonecan’tgoon—thekindofdaywhensomethingbreaks”—andthatstrangemomentaryflashofappealinhereyes.Whathadbeenthematterwithhimnottorespondtothatappeal?Hehadbeenblind,deaf,stupidwithhisneedforsleep….
Racewenton:“I’vegotsomeslightofficialstanding;theysentforme,putitinmyhands.Theboat’sduetostartinhalfanhour,butitwillbedelayedtillIgivetheword.There’sapossibility,ofcourse,thatthemurderercamefromtheshore.”
Poirotshookhishead.
Raceacquiescedinthegesture.
“Iagree.Onecanprettywellrulethatout.Well,man,it’suptoyou.Thisisyourshow.”
Poirothadbeenattiringhimselfwithaneat-fingeredcelerity.Hesaidnow:“Iamatyourdisposal.”
Thetwomensteppedoutonthedeck.
Racesaid:“Bessnershouldbetherebynow.Isentthestewardforhim.”
Therewerefourcabinsdeluxe,withbathrooms,ontheboat.OfthetwoontheportsideonewasoccupiedbyDr.Bessner,theotherbyAndrewPennington.OnthestarboardsidethefirstwasoccupiedbyMissVanSchuyler,andtheonenexttoitbyLinnetDoyle.Herhusband’sdressingcabinwasnextdoor.
Awhite-facedstewardwasstandingoutsidethedoorofLinnetDoyle’scabin.Heopenedthedoorforthemandtheypassedinside.Dr.Bessnerwasbendingoverthebed.Helookedupandgruntedastheothertwoentered.
“Whatcanyoutellus,Doctor,aboutthisbusiness?”askedRace.
Bessnerrubbedhisunshavenjawmeditatively.
“Ach!Shewasshot—shotatclosequarters.See—herejustabovetheear—thatiswherethebulletentered.Averylittlebullet—Ishouldsayatwenty-two.Thepistol,itwasheldcloseagainstherhead,see,thereisblackeninghere,theskinisscorched.”
AgaininasickwaveofmemoryPoirotthoughtofthosewordsutteredinAssuan
Bessnerwenton:“Shewasasleep;therewasnostruggle;themurderercreptupinthedarkandshotherasshelaythere.”
“Ah!non!”Poirotcriedout.Hissenseofpsychologywasoutraged.JacquelinedeBellefortcreepingintoadarkenedcabin,pistolinhand—no,itdidnot“fit,”thatpicture.
Bessnerstaredathimwithhisthicklenses.
“Butthatiswhathappened,Itellyou.”
“Yes,yes.Ididnotmeanwhatyouthought.Iwasnotcontradictingyou.”
Bessnergaveasatisfiedgrunt.
Poirotcameupandstoodbesidehim.LinnetDoylewaslyingonherside.Herattitudewasnaturalandpeaceful.Butabovetheearwasatinyholewithanincrustationofdriedbloodroundit.
Poirotshookhisheadsadly.
Thenhisgazefellonthewhitepaintedwalljustinfrontofhimandhedrewinhisbreathsharply.ItswhiteneatnesswasmarredbyabigwaveringletterJscrawledinsomebrownish-redmedium.
Poirotstaredatit,thenheleanedoverthedeadgirlandverygentlypickedupherrighthand.Onefingerofitwasstainedabrownish-red.
“Nond’unnomd’unnom!”ejaculatedHerculePoirot.
“Eh?Whatisthat?”
Dr.Bessnerlookedup.
“Ach!That.”
Racesaid:“Well,I’mdamned.Whatdoyoumakeofthat,Poirot?”
Poirotswayedalittleonhistoes.
“YouaskmewhatImakeofit.Ehbien,itisverysimple,isitnot?MadameDoyleisdying;shewishestoindicatehermurderer,andsoshewriteswithherfinger,dippedinherownblood,theinitialletterofhermurderer’sname.Oh,yes,itisastonishinglysimple.”
“Ach,but—”
Dr.Bessnerwasabouttobreakout,butaperemptorygesturefromRacesilencedhim.
“Soitstrikesyouthat?”heaskedslowly.
Poirotturnedroundonhimnoddinghishead.
“Yes,yes.Itis,asIsay,ofanastonishingsimplicity!Itissofamiliar,isitnot?Ithasbeendonesooften,inthepagesoftheromanceofcrime!Itisnow,indeed,alittlevieuxjeu!Itleadsonetosuspectthatourmurdereris—old-fashioned!”
“C’estdel’enfantillage,”agreedPoirot.
“Butitwasdonewithapurpose,”suggestedRace.
“That—naturally,”agreedPoirot,andhisfacewasgrave.
“WhatdoesJstandfor?”askedRace.
Poirotrepliedpromptly:“JstandsforJacquelinedeBellefort,ayoungladywhodeclaredtomelessthanaweekagothatshewouldlikenothingbetterthanto—”hepausedandthendeliberatelyquoted,“‘toputmydearlittlepistolcloseagainstherheadandthenjustpresswithmyfinger—’”
“GottimHimmel”exclaimedDr.Bessner.
Therewasamomentarysilence.ThenRacedrewadeepbreathandsaid:“Whichisjustwhatwasdonehere?”
Bessnernodded.
“Thatisso,yes.Itwasapistolofverysmallcalibre—asIsay,probablyatwenty-two.Thebullethasgottobeextracted,ofcourse,beforewecansaydefinitely.”
Racenoddedinswiftcomprehension.Thenheasked:“Whatabouttimeofdeath?”
Bessnerstrokedhisjawagain.Hisfingersmadearaspingsound.
“Iwouldnotcaretobetooprecise.Itisnoweighto’clock.Iwillsay,withdueregardtothetemperaturelastnight,thatshehasbeendeadcertainlysixhoursandprobablynotlongerthaneight.”
“Thatputsitbetweenmidnightandtwoa.m.”
“Thatisso.”
Therewasapause.Racelookedaround.
“Whataboutherhusband?Isupposehesleepsinthecabinnextdoor.”
“Atthemoment,”saidDr.Bessner,“heisasleepinmycabin.”Bothmenlookedverysurprised.
Bessnernoddedhisheadseveraltimes.
“Ach,so.Iseeyouhavenotbeentoldaboutthat.Mr.Doylewasshotlastnightinthesaloon.”
“Shot?Bywhom?”
“Bytheyounglady,JacquelinedeBellefort.”
Raceaskedsharply,“Ishebadlyhurt?”
“Yes,theboneissplintered.Ihavedoneallthatispossibleatthemoment,butitisnecessary,youunderstand,thatthefractureshouldbeX-rayedassoonaspossibleandpropertreatmentgivensuchasisimpossibleonthisboat.”
Poirotmurmured:“JacquelinedeBellefort.”
HiseyeswentagaintotheJonthewall.
Racesaidabruptly:“Ifthereisnothingmorewecandohereforthemoment,let’sgobelow.Themanagementhasputthesmokingroomatourdisposal.Wemustgetthedetailsofwhathappenedlastnight.”
Theyleftthecabin.Racelockedthedoorandtookthekeywithhim.
“Wecancomebacklater,”hesaid.“Thefirstthingtodoistogetallthefactsclear.”
Theywentdowntothedeckbelow,wheretheyfoundthemanageroftheKarnakwaitinguneasilyinthedoorwayofthesmokingroom.Thepoormanwasterriblyupsetandworriedoverthewholebusiness,andwaseagertoleaveeverythinginColonelRace’shands.
“IfeelIcan’tdobetterthanleaveittoyou,sir,seeingyourofficialposition.I’dhadorderstoputmyselfatyourdisposalinthe—er—othermatter.Ifyouwilltakecharge,I’llseethateverythingisdoneasyouwish.”
“Goodman!TobeginwithI’dlikethisroomkeptclearformeandMonsieurPoirotduringthisinquiry.”
“Certainly,sir.”
“That’sallatpresent.Goonwithyourownwork.Iknowwheretofindyou.”
Lookingslightlyrelieved,themanagerlefttheroom.
Racesaid,“Sitdown,Bessner,andlet’shavethewholestoryofwhathappenedlastnight.”
Theylistenedinsilencetothedoctor’srumblingvoice.
“Clearenough,”saidRace,whenhehadfinished.“Thegirlworkedherselfup,helpedbyadrinkortwo,andfinallytookapotshotatthemanwithatwenty-twopistol.ThenshewentalongtoLinnetDoyle’scabinandshotheraswell.”
ButDr.Bessnerwasshakinghishead.
“No,no,Idonotthinkso.Idonotthinkthatwaspossible.Foronethingshewouldnotwriteherowninitialonthewall;itwouldberidiculous,nichtwahr?”
“Shemight,”Racedeclared,“ifshewereasblindlymadandjealousasshesounds;shemightwantto—well—signhernametothecrime,sotospeak.”
Poirotshookhishead.“No,no,Idonotthinkshewouldbeas—ascrudeasthat.”
“Thenthere’sonlyonereasonforthatJ.Itwasputtherebysomeoneelsedeliberatelytothrowsuspiciononher.”
Bessnernodded.“Yes,andthecriminalwasunlucky,because,yousee,itisnotonlyunlikelythattheyoungFr?uleindidthemurder;itisalsoIthinkimpossible.”
“How’sthat?”
BessnerexplainedJacqueline’shystericsandthecircumstanceswhichhadledMissBowerstotakechargeofher.
“AndIthink—Iamsure—thatMissBowersstayedwithherallnight.”
Racesaid:“Ifthat’sso,it’sgoingtosimplifymattersverymuch.”
“Whodiscoveredthecrime?”Poirotasked.
“Mrs.Doyle’smaid,LouiseBourget.Shewenttocallhermistressasusual,foundherdead,andcameoutandfloppedintothesteward’sarmsinadeadfaint.Hewenttothemanager,whocametome.IgotholdofBessnerandthencameforyou.”
Poirotnodded.
Racesaid:“Doyle’sgottoknow.Yousayhe’sasleepstill?”
Bessnernodded.“Yes,he’sstillasleepinmycabin.Igavehimastrongopiatelastnight.”
RaceturnedtoPoirot.
“Well,”hesaid,“Idon’tthinkweneeddetainthedoctoranylonger,eh?Thankyou,Doctor.”
Bessnerrose.“Iwillhavemybreakfast,yes.AndthenIwillgobacktomycabinandseeifMr.Doyleisreadytowake.”
“Thanks.”
Bessnerwentout.Thetwomenlookedateachother.
“Well,whataboutit,Poirot?”Raceasked.“You’rethemanincharge.I’lltakemyordersfromyou.Yousaywhat’stobedone.”
Poirotbowed.
“Ehbien!”hesaid,“wemustholdthecourtofinquiry.Firstofall,Ithinkwemustverifythestoryoftheaffairlastnight.Thatistosay,wemustquestionFanthorpandMissRobson,whoweretheactualwitnessesofwhatoccurred.Thedisappearanceofthepistolisverysignificant.”
Racerangabellandsentamessagebythesteward.
Poirotsighedandshookhishead.“Itisbad,this,”hemurmured.“Itisbad.”
“Haveyouanyideas?”askedRacecuriously.
“Myideasconflict.Theyarenotwellarranged;theyarenotorderly.Thereis,yousee,thebigfactthatthisgirlhatedLinnetDoyleandwantedtokillher.”
“Youthinkshe’scapableofit?”
“Ithinkso—yes.”Poirotsoundeddoubtful.
“Butnotinthisway?That’swhat’sworryingyou,isn’tit?Nottocreepintohercabininthedarkandshootherwhileshewassleeping.It’sthecold-bloodednessthatstrikesyouasnotringingtrue.”
“Inasense,yes.”
“Youthinkthatthisgirl,JacquelinedeBellefort,isincapableofapremeditatedcold-bloodedmurder?”
Poirotsaidslowly:“Iamnotsure,yousee.Shewouldhavethebrains—yes.ButIdoubtif,physically,shecouldbringherselftodotheact….”
Racenodded.“Yes,Isee…Well,accordingtoBessner’sstory,itwouldalsohavebeenphysicallyimpossible.”
“Ifthatistrueitclearsthegroundconsiderably.Letushopeitistrue.”Poirotpausedandthenaddedsimply:“Ishallbegladifitisso,forIhaveforthatlittleonemuchsympathy.”
ThedooropenedandFanthorpandCorneliacamein.Bessnerfollowedthem.
Corneliagaspedout:“Isn’tthisjustawful?Poor,poorMrs.Doyle!Andshewassolovelytoo.Itmusthavebeenarealfiendwhocouldhurther!AndpoorMr.Doyle;he’llgohalfcrazywhenheknows!Why,evenlastnighthewassofrightfullyworriedlestsheshouldhearabouthisaccident.”
“Thatisjustwhatwewantyoutotellusabout,MissRobson,”saidRace.“Wewanttoknowexactlywhathappenedlastnight.”
Corneliabeganalittleconfusedly,butaquestionortwofromPoirothelpedmatters.
“Ah,yes,Iunderstand.Afterthebridge,MadameDoylewenttohercabin.Didshereallygotohercabin,Iwonder?”
“Shedid,”saidRace.“Iactuallysawher.Isaidgoodnighttoheratthedoor.”
“Andthetime?”
“Mercy,Icouldn’tsay,”repliedCornelia.
“Itwastwentypasteleven,”saidRace.
“Bien.Thenattwentypasteleven,MadameDoylewasaliveandwell.Atthatmomenttherewas,inthesaloon,who?”
Fanthorpanswered:“Doylewasthere.AndMissdeBellefort.MyselfandMissRobson.”
“That’sso,”agreedCornelia.“Mr.Penningtonhadadrinkandthenwentofftobed.”
“Thatwashowmuchlater?”
“Oh,aboutthreeorfourminutes.”
“Beforehalf-pasteleven,then?”
“Oh,yes.”
“Sothattherewereleftinthesaloonyou,MademoiselleRobson,MademoiselledeBellefort,MonsieurDoyle,andMonsieurFanthorp.Whatwereyoualldoing?”
“Mr.Fanthorpwasreadingabook.I’dgotsomeembroidery.MissdeBellefortwas—shewas—”
Fanthorpcametotherescue.“Shewasdrinkingprettyheavily.”
“Yes,”agreedCornelia.“Shewastalkingtomemostlyandaskingmeaboutthingsathome.Andshekeptsayingthings—tomemostly,butIthinktheywerekindofmeantforMr.Doyle.Hewasgettingkindofmadather,buthedidn’tsayanything.Ithinkhethoughtifhekeptquietshemightsimmerdown.
“Butshedidn’t?”
Corneliashookherhead.
“Itriedtogoonceortwice,butshemademestay,andIwasgettingvery,veryuncomfortable.AndthenMr.Fanthorpgotupandwentout—”
“Itwasalittleembarrassing,”saidFanthorp.“IthoughtI’dmakeanunobtrusiveexit.MissdeBellefortwasclearlyworkingupforascene.”
“Andthenshepulledoutthepistol,”wentonCornelia,“andMr.Doylejumpeduptotryandgetitawayfromher,anditwentoffandshothimthroughtheleg;andthenshebegantosobandcry—andIwasscaredtodeathandranoutafterMr.Fanthorp,andhecamebackwithme,andMr.Doylesaidnottomakeafuss,andoneoftheNubianboysheardthenoiseoftheshotandcamealong,butMr.Fanthorptoldhimitwasallright;andthenwegotJacquelineawaytohercabin,andMr.FanthorpstayedwithherwhileIgotMissBowers.”Corneliapausedbreathless.
“Whattimewasthis?”askedRace.
Corneliasaidagain,“Mercy,Idon’tknow,”butFanthorpansweredpromptly:
“Itmusthavebeenabouttwentyminutespasttwelve.Iknowthatitwasactuallyhalf-pasttwelvewhenIfinallygottomycabin.”
“Nowletmebequitesureononeortwopoints,”saidPoirot.“AfterMadameDoyleleftthesaloon,didanyofyoufourleaveit?”
“No.”
“YouarequitecertainMademoiselledeBellefortdidnotleavethesaloonatall?”
Fanthorpansweredpromptly:“Positive.NeitherDoyle,MissdeBellefort,MissRobson,normyselfleftthesaloon.”
“Good.ThatestablishesthefactthatMademoiselledeBellefortcouldnotpossiblyhaveshotMadameDoylebefore—letussay—twentypasttwelve.Now,MademoiselleRobson,youwenttofetchMademoiselleBowers.WasMademoiselledeBellefortaloneinhercabinduringthatperiod?”
“No.Mr.Fanthorpstayedwithher.”
“Good!Sofar,MademoiselledeBelleforthasaperfectalibi.MademoiselleBowersisthenextpersontointerview,but,beforeIsendforher,Ishouldliketohaveyouropinionononeortwopoints.MonsieurDoyle,yousay,wasveryanxiousthatMademoiselledeBellefortshouldnotbeleftalone.Washeafraid,doyouthink,thatshewascontemplatingsomefurtherrashact?”
“Thatismyopinion,”saidFanthorp.
“HewasdefinitelyafraidshemightattackMadameDoyle?”
“No.”Fanthorpshookhishead.“Idon’tthinkthatwashisideaatall.Ithinkhewasafraidshemight—er—dosomethingrashtoherself.”
“Suicide?”
“Yes.Yousee,sheseemedcompletelysoberedandheartbrokenatwhatshehaddone.Shewasfullofself-reproach.Shekeptsayingshewouldbebetterdead.”
Corneliasaidtimidly:“Ithinkhewasratherupsetabouther.Hespoke—quitenicely.Hesaiditwasallhisfault—thathe’dtreatedherbadly.He—hewasreallyverynice.”
HerculePoirotnoddedthoughtfully.“Nowaboutthatpistol,”hewenton.“Whathappenedtothat?”
“Shedroppedit,”saidCornelia.
“Andafterwards?”
Fanthorpexplainedhowhehadgonebacktosearchforit,buthadnotbeenabletofindit.
“Aha!”saidPoirot.“Nowwebegintoarrive.Letus,Iprayyou,beveryprecise.Describetomeexactlywhathappened.”
“MissdeBellefortletitfall.Thenshekickeditawayfromherwithherfoot.”
“Shesortofhatedit,”explainedCornelia.“Iknowjustwhatshefelt.”
“Anditwentunderasettee,yousay.Nowbeverycareful.MademoiselledeBellefortdidnotrecoverthatpistolbeforesheleftthesaloon?”
BothFanthorpandCorneliawerepositiveonthatpoint.
“Précisément.Iseekonlytobeveryexact,youcomprehend.Thenwearriveatthispoint.WhenMademoiselledeBellefortleavesthesaloonthepistolisunderthesettee,and,sinceMademoiselledeBellefortisnotleftalone—MonsieurFanthorp,MademoiselleRobsonorMademoiselleBowersbeingwithher—shehasnoopportunitytogetbackthepistolaftersheleft
“Itmusthavebeenjustbeforehalf-pasttwelve.”
“AndhowlongwouldhaveelapsedbetweenthetimeyouandDr.BessnercarriedMonsieurDoyleoutofthesaloonuntilyoureturnedtolookforthepistol?”
“Perhapsfiveminutes—perhapsalittlemore.”
“Theninthatfiveminutessomeoneremovesthatpistolfromwhereitlayoutofsightunderthesettee.ThatsomeonewasnotMademoiselledeBellefort.Whowasit?ItseemshighlyprobablethatthepersonwhoremoveditwasthemurdererofMadameDoyle.Wemayassume,too,thatthepersonhadoverheardorseensomethingoftheeventsimmediatelypreceding.”
“Idon’tseehowyoumakethatout,”objectedFanthorp.
“Because,”saidHerculePoirot,“youhavejusttoldusthatthepistolwasoutofsightunderthesettee.Thereforeitishardlycrediblethatitwasdiscoveredbyaccident.Itwastakenbysomeonewhoknewitwasthere.Thereforethatsomeonemusthaveassistedatthescene.”
Fanthorpshookhishead.“IsawnoonewhenIwentoutonthedeckjustbeforetheshotwasfired.”
“Ah,butyouwentoutbythedooronthestarboardside.”
“Yes.Thesamesideasmycabin.”
“Theniftherehadbeenanybodyattheportdoorlookingthroughtheglassyouwouldnothaveseenhim?”
“No,”admittedFanthorp.
“DidanyoneheartheshotexcepttheNubianboy?”
“NotasfarasIknow.”
Fanthorpwenton:“Yousee,thewindowsinherewereallclosed.MissVanSchuylerfeltadraughtearlierintheevening.Theswingdoorswereshut.Idoubtiftheshotwouldbeclearlyheard.Itwouldonlysoundlikethepopofacork.”
Racesaid:“AsfarasIknow,nooneseemstohaveheardtheothershot—theshotthatkilledMrs.Doyle.”
“Thatwewillinquireintopresently,”saidPoirot.
“ForthemomentwestillconcernourselveswithMademoiselledeBellefort.WemustspeaktoMademoiselleBowers.Butfirst,beforeyougo”—hearrestedFanthorpandCorneliawithagesture—“youwillgivemealittleinformationaboutyourselves.Thenitwillnotbenecessarytocallyouagainlater.Youfirst,Monsieur—yourfullname.”
“JamesLechdaleFanthorp.”
“Address?”
“GlasmoreHouse,MarketDonnington,Northamptonshire.”
“Yourprofession?”
“Iamalawyer.”
“Andyourreasonsforvisitingthiscountry?”
Therewasapause.ForthefirsttimetheimpassiveMr.Fanthorpseemedtakenaback.Hesaidatlast,almostmumblingthewords,“Er—pleasure.”
“Aha!”saidPoirot.“Youtaketheholiday;thatisit,yes?”
“Er—yes.”
“Verywell,MonsieurFanthorp.Willyougivemeabriefaccountofyourownmovementslastnightaftertheeventswehavejustbeennarrating?”
“Iwentstraighttobed.”
“Thatwasat—?”
“Justafterhalf-pasttwelve.”
“Yourcabinisnumbertwenty-twoonthestarboardside—theonenearestthesaloon.”
“Yes.”
“Iwillaskyouonemorequestion.Didyouhearanything—anythingatall—afteryouwenttoyourcabin?”
Fanthorpconsidered.
“Iturnedinveryquickly.IthinkIheardakindofsplashjustasIwasdroppingofftosleep.Nothingelse.”
“Youheardakindofsplash?Nearathand?”
Fanthorpshookhishead.
“Really,Icouldn’tsay.Iwashalfasleep.”
“Andwhattimewouldthatbe?”
“Itmighthavebeenaboutoneo’clock.Ican’treallysay.”
“Thankyou,MonsieurFanthorp.Thatisall.”
PoirotturnedhisattentiontoCornelia
“Andnow,MademoiselleRobson.Yourfullname?”
“CorneliaRuth.AndmyaddressisTheRedHouse,Bellfield,Connecticut.”
“WhatbroughtyoutoEgypt?”
“CousinMarie,MissVanSchuyler,broughtmealongonatrip.”
“HadyouevermetMadameDoyleprevioustothisjourney?”
“No,never.”
“Andwhatdidyoudolastnight?”
“IwentrighttobedafterhelpingDr.BessnerwithMr.Doyle’sleg.”
“Yourcabinis—?”
“Forty-threeontheportside—rightnextdoortoMissdeBellefort.”
“Anddidyouhearanything?”
Corneliashookherhead.“Ididn’thearathing.”
“Nosplash?”
“No,butthenIwouldn’t,becausetheboat’sagainstthebankonmyside.”
Poirotnodded.“Thankyou,MademoiselleRobson.NowperhapsyouwillbesokindastoaskMademoiselleBowerstocomehere.”
FanthorpandCorneliawentout.
“Thatseemsclearenough,”saidRace.“Unlessthreeindependentwitnessesarelying,JacquelinedeBellefortcouldn’thavegotholdofthepistol.Butsomebodydid.Andsomebodyoverheardthescene.AndsomebodywasB.F.enoughtowriteabigJonthewall.”
TherewasataponthedoorandMissBowersentered.Thehospitalnursesatdowninherusualcomposedefficientmanner.InanswertoPoirotshegavehername,address,andqualifications,adding:“I’vebeenlookingafterMissVanSchuylerforovertwoyearsnow.”
“IsMademoiselleVanSchuyler’shealthverybad?”
“Why,no,Iwouldn’tsaythat,”repliedMissBowers.“She’snotveryyoung,andshe’snervousaboutherself,andshelikestohaveanursearoundhandy.There’snothingseriousthematterwithher.Shejustlikesplentyofattention,andshe’swillingtopayforit.”
Poirotnoddedcomprehendingly.Thenhesaid:“IunderstandthatMademoiselleRobsonfetchedyoulastnight?”
“Why,yes,that’sso.”
“Willyoutellmeexactlywhathappened?”
“Well,MissRobsonjustgavemeabriefoutlineofwhathadoccurred,andIcamealongwithher.IfoundMissdeBellefortinaveryexcited,hystericalcondition.”
“DidsheutteranythreatsagainstMadameDoyle?”
“No,nothingofthatkind.Shewasinaconditionofmorbidself-reproach.She’dtakenagooddealofalcohol,Ishouldsay,andshewassufferingfromreaction.Ididn’tthinksheoughttobeleft.Igaveherashotofmorphiaandsatwithher.”
“Now,MademoiselleBowers,Iwantyoutoanswerthis.DidMademoiselledeBellefortleavehercabinatall?”
“No,shedidnot.”
“Andyouyourself?”
“Istayedwithheruntilearlythismorning.”
“Youarequitesureofthat?”
“Absolutelysure.”
“Thankyou,MademoiselleBowers.”
Thenursewentout.Thetwomenlookedateachother.
JacquelinedeBellefortwasdefinitelyclearedofthecrime.WhothenhadshotLinnetDoyle?
Fourteen
Racesaid:“Someonepinchedthepistol.Itwasn’tJacquelinedeBellefort.Someoneknewenoughtofeelthathiscrimewouldbeattributedtoher.Butthatsomeonedidnotknowthatahospitalnursewasgoingtogivehermorphiaandsitupwithherallnight.Andonethingmore.SomeonehadalreadyattemptedtokillLinnetDoylebyrollingabouldernotJacquelinedeBellefort.Whowasit?”
Poirotsaid:“Itwillbesimplertosaywhoitcouldnothavebeen.NeitherMonsieurDoyle,MadameAllerton,MonsieurAllerton,MademoiselleVanSchuyler,norMademoiselleBowerscouldhavehadanythingtodowithit.Theywereallwithinmysight.”
“H’m,”saidRace;“thatleavesratheralargefield.Whataboutmotive?
“ThatiswhereIhopeMonsieurDoylemaybeabletohelpus.Therehavebeenseveralincidents—”
ThedooropenedandJacquelinedeBellefortentered.Shewasverypaleandshestumbledalittleasshewalked.
“Ididn’tdoit,”shesaid.Hervoicewasthatofafrightenedchild.“Ididn’tdoit.Oh,pleasebelieveme.EveryonewillthinkIdidit—butIdidn’t—Ididn’t.It’s—it’sawful.Iwishithadn’thappened.ImighthavekilledSimonlastnight;Iwasmad,Ithink.ButIdidn’tdotheother….”
Shesatdownandburstintotears.
Poirotpattedherontheshoulder.
“There,there.WeknowthatyoudidnotkillMadameDoyle.Itisproved—yes,proved,monenfant.Itwasnotyou.”
Jackiesatupsuddenly,herwethandkerchiefclaspedinherhand.
“Butwhodid?”
“That,”saidPoirot,“isjustthequestionweareaskingourselves.Youcannothelpusthere,mychild?”
Jacquelineshookherhead.
“Idon’tknow…Ican’timagine…No,Ihaven’tthefaintestidea.”Shefrowneddeeply.“No,”shesaidatlast.“Ican’tthinkofanyonewhowantedherdead.”Hervoicefalteredalittle.“Exceptme.”
Racesaid:“Excusemeaminute—justthoughtofsomething.”Hehurriedoutoftheroom.
JacquelinedeBellefortsatwithherheaddowncast,nervouslytwistingherfingers.Shebrokeoutsuddenly:“Death’shorrible—horrible!I—hatethethoughtofit.”
Poirotsaid:“Yes.Itisnotpleasanttothink,isit,thatnow,atthisverymoment,someoneisrejoicingatthesuccessfulcarryingoutofhisorherplan.”
“Don’t—don’t!”criedJackie.“Itsoundshorrible,thewayyouputit.”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.“Itistrue.”
Jackiesaidinalowvoice:“I—Iwantedherdead—andsheisdead…And,whatisworse…shedied—justlikeIsaid.”
“Yes,Mademoiselle.Shewasshotthroughthehead.”
Shecriedout:“ThenIwasright,thatnightattheCataractHotel.Therewassomeonelistening!”
“Ah!”Poirotnoddedhishead.“Iwonderedifyouwouldrememberthat.Yes,itisaltogethertoomuchofacoincidence—thatMadameDoyleshouldbekilledinjustthewayyoudescribed.”
Jackieshuddered.
“Thatmanthatnight—whocanhehavebeen?”
Poirotwassilentforaminuteortwo,thenhesaidinquiteadifferenttoneofvoice:“Youaresureitwasaman,Mademoiselle?”
Jackielookedathiminsurprise.
“Yes,ofcourse.Atleast—”
“Well,Mademoiselle?”
Shefrowned,halfclosinghereyesinanefforttoremember.Shesaidslowly:“Ithoughtitwasaman….”
“Butnowyouarenotsosure?”
Jackiesaidslowly:“No,Ican’tbecertain.Ijustassumeditwasaman—butitwasreallyjusta—afigure—ashadow….”
Shepausedandthen,asPoirotdidnotspeak,sheadded:“Youthinkitmusthavebeenawoman?ButsurelynoneofthewomenonthisboatcanhavewantedtokillLinnet?”
Poirotmerelymovedhisheadfromsidetoside.
ThedooropenedandBessnerappeared.
“WillyoucomeandspeakwithMr.Doyle,please,MonsieurPoirot?Hewouldliketoseeyou.”
Jackiesprangup.ShecaughtBessnerbythearm.
“Howishe?Ishe—allright?”
“Naturallyheisnotallright,”repliedDr.Bessnerreproachfully.“Theboneisfractured,youunderstand.”
“Buthe’snotgoingtodie?”criedJackie.
“Ach,whosaidanythingaboutdying?WewillgethimtocivilizationandtherewewillhaveanX-rayandpropertreatment.”
“Oh!”Thegirl’shandscametogetherinconvulsivepressure.Shesankdownagainonachair.
PoirotsteppedoutontothedeckwiththedoctorandatthatmomentRacejoinedthem.TheywentuptothepromenadedeckandalongtoBessner’scabin.
SimonDoylewaslyingproppedwithcushionsandpillows,animprovisedcageoverhisleg.Hisfacewasghastlyincolour,theravagesofpainwithshockontopofit.Butthepredominantexpressiononhisfacewasbewilderment—thesickbewildermentofachild.
Hemuttered:“Pleasecomein.Thedoctor’stoldme—toldme—aboutLinnet…Ican’tbelieveit.Isimplycan’tbelieveit’strue.”
“Iknow.It’sabadknock,”saidRace.
Simonstammered:“Youknow—Jackiedidn’tdoit.I’mcertainJackiedidn’tdoit!Itlooksblackagainsther,Idaresay,butshedidn’tdoit.She—shewasabittightlastnight,andallworkedup,andthat’swhyshewentforme.Butshewouldn’t—shewouldn’tdomurder…notcold-bloodedmurder….”
Poirotsaidgently:“Donotdistressyourself,MonsieurDoyle.Whoevershotyourwife,itwasnotMademoiselledeBellefort.”
Simonlookedathimdoubtfully.
“Isthatonthesquare?”
“ButsinceitwasnotMademoiselledeBellefort,”continuedPoirot,“canyougiveusanyideaofwhoitmighthavebeen?”
Simonshookhishead.Thelookofbewildermentincreased.
“It’scrazy—impossible.ApartfromJackienobodycouldhavewantedtodoherin.”
“Reflect,MonsieurDoyle.Hadshenoenemies?Istherenoonewhohadagrudgeagainsther?”
AgainSimonshookhisheadwiththesamehopelessgesture.
“Itsoundsabsolutelyfantastic.There’sWindlesham,ofcourse.Shemoreorlesschuckedhimtomarryme—butIcan’tseeapolitesticklikeWindleshamcommittingmurder,andanywayhe’smilesaway.SamethingwitholdSirGeorgeWode.He’dgotadownonLinnetoverthehouse—dislikedthewayshewaspullingitabout;buthe’smilesawayinLondon,andanywaytothinkofmurderinsuchaconnectionwouldbefantastic.”
“Listen,MonsieurDoyle.”Poirotspokeveryearnestly.“OnthefirstdaywecameonboardtheKarnakIwasimpressedbyalittleconversationwhichIhadwithMadameyourwife.Shewasveryupset—verydistraught.Shesaid—markthiswell—thateverybodyhatedher.Shesaidshefeltafraid—unsafe—asthougheveryoneroundherwereanenemy.”
“ShewasprettyupsetatfindingJackieaboard.SowasI,”saidSimon.
“Thatistrue,butitdoesnotquiteexplainthosewords.Whenshesaidshewassurroundedbyenemies,shewasalmostcertainlyexaggerating,butallthesameshedidmeanmorethanoneperson.”
“Youmightberightthere,”admittedSimon.“IthinkIcanexplainthat.Itwasanameinthepassengerlistthatupsether.”
“Anameinthepassengerlist?Whatname?”
“Well,yousee,shedidn’tactuallytellme.AsamatteroffactIwasn’tevenlisteningverycarefully.IwasgoingovertheJacquelinebusinessinmymind.AsfarasIremember,Linnetsaidsomethingaboutdoingpeopledowninbusiness,andthatitmadeheruncomfortabletomeetanyonewhohadagrudgeagainstherfamily.Yousee,althoughIdon’treallyknowthefamilyhistoryverywell,IgatherthatLinnet’smotherwasamillionaire’sdaughter.Herfatherwasonlyjustordinaryplainwealthy,butafterhismarriagehenaturallybeganplayingthemarketsorwhateveryoucallit.Andasaresultofthat,ofcourse,severalpeoplegotitintheneck.Youknow,affluenceoneday,thegutterthenext.Well,IgathertherewassomeoneonboardwhosefatherhadgotupagainstLinnet’sfatherandtakenaprettyhardknock.IrememberLinnetsaying:‘It’sprettyawfulwhenpeoplehateyouwithoutevenknowingyou.’”
“Yes,”saidPoirotthoughtfully.“Thatwouldexplainwhatshesaidtome.Forthefirsttimeshewasfeelingtheburdenofherinheritanceandnotitsadvantages.Youarequitesure,MonsieurDoyle,thatshedidnotmentionthisman’sname?”
Simonshookhisheadruefully.
“Ididn’treallypaymuchattention.Justsaid:‘Oh,nobodymindswhathappenedtotheirfathersnowadays.Lifegoestoofastforthat.’Somethingofthatkind.”
Bessnersaiddryly:“Ach,butIcanhaveaguess.Thereiscertainlyayoungmanwithagrievanceonboard.”
“YoumeanFerguson?”saidPoirot.
“Yes.HespokeagainstMrs.Doyleonceortwice.Imyselfhaveheardhim.”
“Whatcanwedotofindout?”askedSimon.
Poirotreplied:“ColonelRaceandImustinterviewallthepassengers.Untilwehavegottheirstoriesitwouldbeunwisetoformtheories.Thenthereisthemaid.Weoughttointerviewherfirstofall.Itwould,perhaps,beaswellifwedidthathere.MonsieurDoyle’spresencemightbehelpful.”
“Yes,that’sagoodidea,”saidSimon.
“HadshebeenwithMrs.Doylelong?”
“Justacoupleofmonths,that’sall.”
“Onlyacoupleofmonths!”exclaimedPoirot.
“Why,youdon’tthink—”
“HadMadameanyvaluablejewellery?”
“Therewereherpearls,”saidSimon.“Sheoncetoldmetheywereworthfortyorfiftythousand.”Heshivered.“MyGod,doyouthinkthosedamnedpearls—?”
“Robberyisapossiblemotive,”saidPoirot.“Allthesameitseemshardlycredible…Well,weshallsee.Letushavethemaidhere.”
LouiseBourgetwasthatsamevivaciousLatinbrunettewhoPoirothadseenonedayandnoticed.
Shewasanythingbutvivaciousnow.Shehadbeencryingandlookedfrightened.Yettherewasakindofsharpcunningapparentinherfacewhichdidnotprepossessthetwomenfavourablytowardsher.
“YouareLouiseBourget?”
“Yes,Monsieur.”
“WhendidyoulastseeMadameDoylealive?”
“Lastnight,Monsieur.Iwasinhercabintoundressher.”
“Whattimewasthat?”
“Itwassometimeaftereleven,Monsieur.Icannotsayexactlywhen.IundressMadameandputhertobed,andthenIleave.”
“Howlongdidallthattake?”
“Tenminutes,Monsieur.Madamewastired.ShetoldmetoputthelightsoutwhenIwent.”
“Andwhenyouhadlefther,whatdidyoudo?”
“Iwenttomyowncabin,Monsieur,onthedeckbelow.”
“Andyouheardorsawnothingmorethatcanhelpus?”
“HowcouldI,Monsieur?”
“That,Mademoiselle,isforyoutosay,notforus,”HerculePoirotretorted
Shestoleasidewaysglanceathim.
“But,Monsieur,Iwasnowherenear…WhatcouldIhaveseenorheard?Iwasonthedeckbelow.Mycabin,itwasontheothersideoftheboat,even.ItisimpossiblethatIshouldhaveheardanything.NaturallyifIhadbeenunabletosleep,ifIhadmountedthestairs,thenperhapsImighthaveseentheassassin,thismonster,enterorleaveMadame’scabin,butasitis—”
ShethrewoutherhandsappealinglytoSimon.
“Monsieur,Iimploreyou—youseehowitis?WhatcanIsay?”
“Mygoodgirl,”saidSimonharshly,“don’tbeafool.Nobodythinksyousaworheardanything.You’llbequiteallright.I’lllookafteryou.Nobody’saccusingyouofanything.”
Louisemurmured,“Monsieurisverygood,”anddroppedhereyelidsmodestly.
“Wetakeit,then,thatyousawandheardnothing?”askedRaceimpatiently.
“ThatiswhatIsaid,Monsieur.”
“Andyouknowofnoonewhohadagrudgeagainstyourmistress?”
TothesurpriseofthelistenersLouisenoddedherheadvigorously.
“Oh,yes.ThatIdoknow.TothatquestionIcananswerYesmostemphatically.”
Poirotsaid,“YoumeanMademoiselledeBellefort?”
“She,certainly.ButitisnotofherIspeak.TherewassomeoneelseonthisboatwhodislikedMadame,whowasveryangrybecauseofthewayMadamehadinjuredhim.”
“Goodlord!”Simonexclaimed.“What’sallthis?”
Louisewenton,stillemphaticallynoddingherheadwiththeutmostvigour.
“Yes,yes,yes,itisasIsay!ItconcernstheformermaidofMadame—mypredecessor.Therewasaman,oneoftheengineersonthisboat,whowantedhertomarryhim.Andmypredecessor,Mariehernamewas,shewouldhavedoneso.ButMadameDoyle,shemadeinquiriesandshediscoveredthatthisFleetwoodalreadyhadawife—awifeofcolouryouunderstand,awifeofthiscountry.Shehadgonebacktoherownpeople,buthewasstillmarriedtoher,youunderstand.AndsoMadameshetoldallthistoMarie,andMariewasveryunhappyandshewouldnotseeFleetwoodanymore.AndthisFleetwood,hewasinfuriated,andwhenhefoundoutthatthisMadameDoylehadformerlybeenMademoiselleLinnetRidgewayhetellsmethathewouldliketokillher!Herinterferenceruinedhislife,hesaid.”
Louisepausedtriumphantly.
“Thisisinteresting,”saidRace.
PoirotturnedtoSimon.
“Hadyouanyideaofthis?”
“Nonewhatever,”Simonrepliedwithpatentsincerity.“IdoubtifLinnetevenknewthemanwasontheboat.Shehadprobablyforgottenallabouttheincident.”
Heturnedsharplytothemaid.
“DidyousayanythingtoMrs.Doyleaboutthis?”
“No,Monsieur,ofcoursenot.”
Poirotasked:“Doyouknowanythingaboutyourmistress’spearls?”
“Herpearls?Louise’seyesopenedverywide.“Shewaswearingthemlastnight.”
“Yousawthemwhenshecametobed?”
“Yes,Monsieur.”
“Wheredidsheputthem?”
“Onthetablebythesideasalways.”
“Thatiswhereyoulastsawthem?”
“Yes,Monsieur.”
“Didyouseethemtherethismorning?”
Astartledlookcameintothegirl’sface.
“MonDieu!Ididnotevenlook.Icomeuptothebed,Isee—IseeMadame;andthenIcryoutandrushoutofthedoor,andIfaint.”
HerculePoirotnoddedhishead.
“Youdidnotlook.ButI,Ihavetheeyeswhichnotice,andtherewerenopearlsonthetablebesidethebedthismorning.”
Fifteen
HerculePoirot’sobservationhadnotbeenatfault.TherewerenopearlsonthetablebyLinnetDoyle’sbed.
LouiseBourgetwasbiddentomakeasearchamongLinnet’sbelongings.Accordingtoher,allwasinorder.Onlythepearlshaddisappeared.
Astheyemergedfromthecabinastewardwaswaitingtotellthemthatbreakfasthadbeenservedinthesmokingroom.Astheypassedalongthedeck,Racepausedtolookovertherail.
“Aha!Iseeyouhavehadanidea,myfriend.”
“Yes.Itsuddenlycametome,whenFanthorpmentionedthinkinghehadheardasplash.It’sperfectlypossiblethatafterthemurder,themurdererthrewthepistoloverboard.”
Poirotsaidslowly:“Youreallythinkthatispossible,myfriend?”Raceshruggedhisshoulders.
“It’sasuggestion.Afterall,thepistolwasn’tanywhereinthecabin.FirstthingIlookedfor.”
“Allthesame,”saidPoirot,“itisincrediblethatitshouldhavebeenthrownoverboard.”
Raceasked:“Whereisitthen?”
Poirotrepliedthoughtfully,“IfitisnotinMadameDoyle’scabin,thereis,logically,onlyoneotherplacewhereitcouldbe.”
“Where’sthat?”
“InMademoiselledeBellefort’scabin.”
Racesaidthoughtfully:“Yes.Isee—”
Hestoppedsuddenly.
“She’soutofhercabin.Shallwegoandhavealooknow?”
Poirotshookhishead.“No,myfriend,thatwouldbeprecipitate.Itmaynotyethavebeenputthere.”
“Whataboutanimmediatesearchofthewholeboat.”
“Thatwayweshouldshowourhand.Wemustworkwithgreatcare.Itisverydelicate,ourposition,atthemoment.Letusdiscussthesituationasweeat.”
Raceagreed.Theywentintothesmokingroom.
“Well,”saidRaceashepouredhimselfoutacupofcoffee,“we’vegottwodefiniteleads.There’sthedisappearanceofthepearls.Andthere’sthemanFleetwood.Asregardsthepearls,robberyseemsindicated,but—Idon’tknowwhetheryou’llagreewithme—”
Poirotsaidquickly:“Butitwasanoddmomenttochoose?”
“Exactly.Tostealthepearlsatsuchamomentinvitesaclosesearchofeverybodyonboard.Howthencouldthethiefhopetogetawaywithhisbooty?”
“Hemighthavegoneashoreanddumpedit.”
“Thecompanyalwayshasawatchmanonthebank.”
“Thenthatisnotfeasible.Wasthemurdercommittedtodivertattentionfromtherobbery?No,thatdoesnotmakesense;itisprofoundlyunsatisfactory.ButsupposingthatMadameDoylewokeupandcaughtthethiefintheact?”
“Andthereforethethiefshother?Butshewasshotwhilstsheslept.”
“Sothatdoesnotmakesense…Youknow,Ihavealittleideaaboutthosepearls—andyet—no—itisimpossible.Becauseifmyideawasrightthepearlswouldnothavedisappeared.Tellme,whatdidyouthinkofthemaid?”
“Iwondered,”saidRaceslowly,“ifsheknewmorethanshesaid.”
“Ah,youtoohadthatimpression?”
“Definitelynotanicegirl,”saidRace.
HerculePoirotnodded.“Yes,Iwouldnottrusther.”
“Youthinkshehadsomethingtodowiththemurder?”
“No.Iwouldnotsaythat.”
“Withthetheftofthepearls,then?”
“Thatismoreprobable.ShehadonlybeenwithMadameDoyleaveryshorttime.Shemaybeamemberofagangthatspecializesinjewelrobberies.Insuchacasethereisoftenamaidwithexcellentreferences.Unfortunatelywearenotinapositiontoseekinformationonthesepoints.Andyetthatexplanationdoesnotquitesatisfyme…Thosepearls—ah,sacré,mylittleideaoughttoberight.Andyetnobodywouldbesoimbecile—”Hebrokeoff.
“WhataboutthemanFleetwood?”
“Wemustquestionhim.Itmaybethatwehavetherethesolution.IfLouiseBourget’sstoryistrue,hehadadefinitemotiveforrevenge.HecouldhaveoverheardthescenebetweenJacquelineandMonsieurDoyle,andwhentheyhadleftthesaloonhecouldhavedartedinandsecuredthegun.Yes,itisallquitepossible.AndthatletterJscrawledinblood.That,too,wouldaccordwithasimple,rathercrudenature.”
“Infact,he’sjustthepersonwearelookingfor?”
“Yes—only—”Poirotrubbedhisnose.Hesaidwithaslightgrimace:“Seeyou,Irecognizemyownweaknesses.IthasbeensaidofmethatIliketomakeacasedifficult.Thissolutionthatyouputtome—itistoosimple,tooeasy.Icannotfeelthatitreallyhappened.Andyet,thatmaybethesheerprejudiceonmypart.”
“Well,we’dbetterhavethefellowhere.”
Racerangthebellandgavetheorder.Thenheasked,“Anyother—possibilities?”
“Plenty,myfriend.Thereis,forexample,theAmericantrustee.”
“Pennington?”
“Yes,Pennington.Therewasacuriouslittlesceneinheretheotherday.”HenarratedthehappeningstoRace.“Yousee—itissignificant.Madame,shewantedtoreadallthepapersbeforesigning.Sohemakestheexcuseofanotherday.Andthen,thehusband,hemakesaverysignificantremark.”
“Whatwasthat?”
“Hesays—‘Ineverreadanything.IsignwhereIamtoldtosign.’Youperceivethesignificanceofthat.Penningtondid.Isawitinhiseye.HelookedatDoyleasthoughanentirelynewideahadcomeintohishead.Justimagine,myfriend,thatyouhavebeenlefttrusteetothedaughterofanintenselywealthyman.Youuse,perhaps,thatmoneytospeculatewith.Iknowitissoinalldetectivenovels—butyoureadofittoointhenewspapers.Ithappens,myfriend,ithappens.”
“Idon’tdisputeit,”saidRace.
“Thereis,perhaps,stilltimetomakegoodbyspeculatingwildly.Yourwardisnotyetofage.Andthen—shemarries!Thecontrolpassesfromyourhandsintohersatamoment’snotice!Adisaster!Butthereisstillachance.Sheisonahoneymoon.Shewillperhapsbecarelessaboutbusiness.Acasualpaper,slippedinamongothers,signedwithoutreading…ButLinnetDoylewasnotlikethat.Honeymoonornohoneymoon,sheisabusinesswoman.Andthenherhusbandmakesaremark,andanewideacomestothatdesperatemanwhoisseekingawayoutfromruin.IfLinnetDoyleweretodie,herfortunewouldpasstoherhusband—andhewouldbeeasytodealwith;hewouldbeachildinthehandsofanastutemanlikeAndrewPenningtonMoncherColonel,ItellyouIsawthethoughtpassthroughAndrewPennington’shead.‘IfonlyitwereDoyleIhadgottodealwith…’Thatiswhathewasthinking.”
“Quitepossible,Idaresay,”saidRacedryly,“butyou’venoevidence.”
“Alas,no.”
“Thenthere’syoungFerguson,”saidRace.“Hetalksbitterlyenough.NotthatIgobytalk.Still,hemightbethefellowwhosefatherwasruinedbyoldRidgeway.It’salittlefar-fetchedbutit’spossible.Peopledobroodoverbygonewrongssometimes.”Hepausedaminuteandthensaid:“Andthere’smyfellow.”
“Yes,thereis‘yourfellow’asyoucallhim.”
“He’sakiller,”saidRace.“Weknowthat.Ontheotherhand,Ican’tseeanywayinwhichhecouldhavecomeupagainstLinnetDoyle.Theirorbitsdon’ttouch.”
Poirotsaidslowly:“Unless,accidentally,shehadbecomepossessedofevidenceshowinghisidentity.”
“That’spossible,butitseemshighlyunlikely.”
Therewasaknockatthedoor.“Ah,here’sourwould-bebigamist.”
Fleetwoodwasabig,truculent-lookingman.Helookedsuspiciouslyfromonetotheotherofthemasheenteredtheroom.PoirotrecognizedhimasthemanhehadseentalkingtoLouiseBourget.
Fleetwoodaskedsuspiciously:“Youwantedtoseeme?”
“Wedid,”saidRace.“Youprobablyknowthatamurderwascommittedonthisboatlastnight?”
Fleetwoodnodded.
“AndIbelieveitistruethatyouhadreasontofeelangeragainstthewomanwhowaskilled.”
AlookofalarmsprangupinFleetwood’seyes.
“Whotoldyouthat?”
“YouconsideredthatMrs.Doylehadinterferedbetweenyouandayoungwoman.”
“Iknowwhotoldyouthat—thatlyingFrenchhussy.She’saliarthroughandthrough,thatgirl.”
“Butthisparticularstoryhappenstobetrue.”
“It’sadirtylie!”
“Yousaythat,althoughyoudon’tknowwhatitisyet.”
Theshottold.Themanflushedandgulped.
“Itistrue,isitnot,thatyouweregoingtomarrythegirlMarie,andthatshebrokeitoffwhenshediscoveredthatyouwereamarriedmanalready?”
“Whatbusinesswasitofhers?”
“Youmean,whatbusinesswasitofMrs.Doyle’s?Well,youknow,bigamyisbigamy.”
“Itwasn’tlikethat.Imarriedoneofthelocalsouthere.Itdidn’tanswer.Shewentbacktoherpeople.I’venotseenherforahalfadozenyears.”
“Stillyouweremarriedtoher.”
Themanwassilent.Racewenton:“Mrs.Doyle,orMissRidgewayasshethenwas,foundoutallthis?”
“Yes,shedid,curseher!Nosingaboutwherenooneeveraskedherto.I’dhavetreatedMarieright.I’dhavedoneanythingforher.Andshe’dneverhaveknownabouttheother,ifithadn’tbeenforthatmeddlesomeyoungladyofhers.Yes,I’llsayit,Ididhaveagrudgeagainstthelady,andIfeltbitteraboutitwhenIsawheronthisboat,alldressedupinpearlsanddiamondsandlordingitallovertheplace,withneverathoughtthatshe’dbrokenupaman’slifeforhim!Ifeltbitterallright,butifyouthinkI’madirtymurderer—ifyouthinkIwentandshotherwithagun,well,that’sadamnedlie!Inevertouchedher.Andthat’sGod’struth.”
Hestopped.Thesweatwasrollingdownhisface.
“Wherewereyoulastnightbetweenthehoursoftwelveandtwo?”
“Inmybunkasleep—andmymatewilltellyouso.”
“Weshallsee,”saidRace.Hedismissedhimwithacurtnod.“That’lldo.”
“Ehbien?”inquiredPoirotasthedoorclosedbehindFleetwood.
Raceshruggedhisshoulders.“Hetellsquiteastraightstory.He’snervous,ofcourse,butnotundulyso.We’llhavetoinvestigatehisalibi—thoughIdon’tsupposeitwillbedecisive.Hismatewasprobablyasleep,andthisfellowcouldhaveslippedinandoutifhewantedto.Itdependswhetheranyoneelsesawhim.”
“Yes,onemustinquireastothat.”
“Thenextthing,Ithink,”saidRace,“iswhetheranyoneheardanythingwhichmightgiveaclueastothetimeofthecrime.Bessnerplacesitashavingoccurredbetweentwelveandtwo.Itseemsreasonabletohopethatsomeoneamongthepassengersmayhaveheardtheshot—eveniftheydidnotrecognizeitforwhatitwas.Ididn’thearanythingofthekindmyself.Whataboutyou?”
Poirotshookhishead.
“Me,Isleptabsolutelylikethelog.Iheardnothing—butnothingatall.Imighthavebeendrugged,Isleptsosoundly.”
“Apity,”saidRace.“Well,let’shopewehaveabitofluckwiththepeoplewhohavecabinsonthestarboardside.Fanthorpwe’vedone.TheAllertonscomenext.I’llsendthestewardtofetchthem.”
Mrs.Allertoncameinbriskly.Shewaswearingasoftgreystripedsilkdress.Herfacelookeddistressed.
“It’stoohorrible,”shesaidassheacceptedthechairthatPoirotplacedforher.“Icanhardlybelieveit.Thatlovelycreature,witheverythingtolivefor—dead.IalmostfeelIcan’tbelieveit.”
“Iknowhowyoufeel,Madame,”saidPoirotsympathetically.
“I’mgladyouareonboard,”saidMrs.Allertonsimply.“You’llbeabletofindoutwhodidit.I’msogladitisn’tthatpoortragicgirl.”
“YoumeanMademoiselledeBellefort.Whotoldyoushedidnotdoit?”
“CorneliaRobson,”repliedMrs.Allerton,withafaintsmile.“Youknow,she’ssimplythrilledbyitall.It’sprobablytheonlyexcitingthingthathaseverhappenedtoher,andprobablytheonlyexcitingthingthateverwillhappentoher.Butshe’ssonicethatshe’sterriblyashamedofenjoyingit.Shethinksit’sawfulofher.”
Mrs.AllertongavealookatPoirotandthenadded:“ButImustn’tchatter.Youwanttoaskmequestions.”
“Ifyouplease.Youwenttobedatwhattime,Madame?”
“Justafterhalfpastten.”
“Andyouwenttosleepatonce?”
“Yes.Iwassleepy.”
“Anddidyouhearanything—anythingatall—duringthenight?”
Mrs.Allertonwrinkledherbrows.
“Yes,IthinkIheardasplashandsomeonerunning—orwasittheotherwayabout?I’mratherhazy.Ijusthadavagueideathatsomeonehadfallenoverboardatsea—adream,youknow—andthenIwokeupandlistened,butitwasallquitequiet.”
“Doyouknowwhattimethatwas?”
“No,I’mafraidIdon’t.ButIdon’tthinkitwasverylongafterIwenttosleep.Imeanitwaswithinthefirsthourorso.”
“Alas,Madame,thatisnotverydefinite.”
“No,Iknowitisn’t.Butit’snogoodtryingtoguess,isit,whenIhaven’treallythevaguestidea?”
“Andthatisallyoucantellus,Madame?”
“I’mafraidso.”
“HadyoueveractuallymetMadameDoylebefore?”
“No,Timhadmether.AndI’dheardagooddealabouther—throughacousinofours,JoannaSouthwood,butI’dneverspokentohertillwemetatAssuan.”
“Ihaveoneotherquestion,Madame,ifyouwillpardonmeforasking.”
Mrs.Allertonmurmuredwithafaintsmile,“Ishouldlovetobeaskedanindiscreetquestion.”
“Itisthis.Didyou,oryourfamily,eversufferanyfinanciallossthroughtheoperationsofMadameDoyle’sfather,MelhuishRidgeway?”
Mrs.Allertonlookedthoroughlyastonished.
“Oh,no!Thefamilyfinanceshaveneversufferedexceptbydwindling…youknow,everythingpayinglessinterestthanitusedto.There’sneverbeenanythingmelodramaticaboutourpoverty.Myhusbandleftverylittlemoney,butwhatheleftIstillhave,thoughitdoesn’tyieldasmuchasitusedtoyield.”
“Ithankyou,Madame.Perhapsyouwillaskyoursontocometous.”
Timsaidlightly,whenhismothercame:“Ordealover?Myturnnow!Whatsortofthingsdidtheyaskyou?”
“OnlywhetherIheardanythinglastnight,”saidMrs.Allerton.“AndunluckilyIdidn’thearanythingatall.Ican’tthinkwhynot.Afterall,Linnet’scabinisonlyoneawayfrommine.IshouldthinkI’dhavebeenboundtoheartheshot.Goalong,Tim;they’rewaitingforyou.”
ToTimAllertonPoirotrepeatedhispreviousquestions.
Timanswered:“Iwenttobedearly,half-pasttenorso.Ireadforabit.Putoutmylightjustaftereleven.”
“Didyouhearanythingafterthat?”
“Heardaman’svoicesayinggoodnight,Ithink,notfaraway.”
“ThatwasmesayinggoodnighttoMrs.Doyle,”saidRace.
“Yes.AfterthatIwenttosleep.Then,later,Iheardakindofhullabaloogoingon,somebodycallingFanthorp,Iremember.”
“MademoiselleRobsonwhensheranoutfromtheobservationsaloon.”
“Yes,Isupposethatwasit.Andthenalotofdifferentvoices.Andthensomebodyrunningalongthedeck.Andthenasplash.AndthenIheardoldBessnerboomingoutsomethingabout‘Carefulnow’and‘Nottooquick.’”
“Youheardasplash.”
“Well,somethingofthatkind.”
“Youaresureitwasnotashotyouheard?”
“Yes,Isupposeitmighthavebeen…Ididhearacorkpop.Perhapsthatwastheshot.Imayhaveimaginedthesplashfromconnectingtheideaofthecorkwithliquidpouringintoaglass…Iknowmyfoggyideawasthattherewassomekindofpartyon,andIwishedthey’dallgotobedandshutup.”
“Anythingmoreafterthat?”
Timshruggedhisshoulders.“Afterthat—oblivion.”
“Youheardnothingmore?”
“Nothingwhatever.”
“Thankyou,MonsieurAllerton.”
Timgotupandleftthecabin.
Sixteen
RaceporedthoughtfullyoveraplanofthepromenadedeckoftheKarnak.
“Fanthorp,youngAllerton,Mrs.Allerton.Thenanemptycabin—SimonDoyle’s.Nowwho’sontheothersideofMrs.Doyle’s?TheoldAmericandame.Ifanyoneheardanythingshewouldhavedone.Ifshe’supwe’dbetterhaveheralong.”
MissVanSchuylerenteredtheroom.Shelookedevenolderandyellowerthanusualthismorning.Hersmalldarkeyeshadanairofvenomousdispleasureinthem.
Raceroseandbowed.
“We’reverysorrytotroubleyou,MissVanSchuyler.It’sverygoodofyou.Pleasesitdown.”
MissVanSchuylersaidsharply:“Idislikebeingmixedupinthis.Iresentitverymuch.Idonotwishtobeassociatedinanywaywiththis—er—veryunpleasantaffair.”
“Quite—quite.IwasjustsayingtoMonsieurPoirotthatthesoonerwetookyourstatementthebetter,asthenyouneedhavenofurthertrouble.”
MissVanSchuylerlookedatPoirotwithsomethingapproachingfavour.
“I’mgladyoubothrealizemyfeelings.Iamnotaccustomedtoanythingofthiskind.”
Poirotsaidsoothingly:“Precisely,Mademoiselle.Thatiswhywewishtofreeyoufromunpleasantnessasquicklyaspossible.Nowyouwenttobedlastnight—atwhattime?”
“Teno’clockismyusualtime.LastnightIwasratherlater,asCorneliaRobson,veryinconsiderately,keptmewaiting.”
“Trèsbien,Mademoiselle.Nowwhatdidyouhearafteryouhadretired?”
MissVanSchuylersaid:“Isleepverylightly.”
“Amerveille!Thatisveryfortunateforus.”
“Iwasawakenedbythatratherflashyyoungwoman,Mrs.Doyle’smaid,whosaid,‘Bonnenuit,Madame’inwhatIcannotbutthinkanunnecessarilyloudvoice.”
“Andafterthat?”
“Iwenttosleepagain.Iwokeupthinkingsomeonewasinmycabin,butIrealizedthatitwassomeoneinthecabinnextdoor.”
“InMadameDoyle’scabin?”
“Yes.ThenIheardsomeoneoutsideonthedeckandthenasplash.”
“Youhavenoideawhattimethiswas?”
“Icantellyouthetimeexactly.Itwastenminutespastone.”
“Youaresureofthat?”
“Yes.Ilookedatmylittleclockthatstandsbymybed.”
“Youdidnothearashot?”
“No,nothingofthekind.”
“Butitmightpossiblyhavebeenashotthatawakenedyou?”
MissVanSchuylerconsideredthequestion,hertoadlikeheadononeside.
“Itmight,”sheadmittedrathergrudgingly.
“Andyouhavenoideawhatmighthavecausedthesplashyouheard?”
“Notatall—Iknowperfectly.”
ColonelRacesatupalertly.“Youknow?”
“Certainly.Ididnotlikethissoundofprowlingaround.Igotupandwenttothedoorofmycabin.MissOtterbournewasleaningovertheside.Shehadjustdroppedsomethingintothewater.”
“MissOtterbourne?”Racesoundedreallysurprised.
“Yes.”
“YouarequitesureitwasMissOtterbourne?”
“Isawherfacedistinctly.”
“Shedidnotseeyou?”
“Idonotthinkso.”
Poirotleanedforward.
“Andwhatdidherfacelooklike,Mademoiselle?”
“Shewasinaconditionofconsiderableemotion.”
RaceandPoirotexchangedaquickglance.
“Andthen?”Raceprompted.
“MissOtterbournewentawayroundthesternoftheboatandIreturnedtobed.”
Therewasaknockatthedoorandthemanagerentered.Hecarriedinhishandadrippingbundle.
“We’vegotit,Colonel.”
Racetookthepackage.Heunwrappedfoldafterfoldofsoddenvelvet.Outofitfellacoarsehandkerchief,faintlystainedwithpink,wrappedroundasmallpearl-handledpistol.
RacegavePoirotaglanceofslightlymalicioustriumph.
“Yousee,”hesaid,“myideawasright.Itwasthrownoverboard.”
Heheldthepistoloutonthepalmofhishand.
“Whatdoyousay,MonsieurPoirot?IsthisthepistolyousawattheCataractHotelthatnight?”
Poirotexamineditcarefully;thenhesaidquietly:“Yes—thatisit.Thereistheornamentalworkonit—andtheinitialsJ.B.Itisanarticledeluxe,averyfeminineproduction,butitisnonethelessalethalweapon.”
“Twenty-two,”murmuredRace.Hetookouttheclip.“Twobulletsfired.Yes,theredoesn’tseemmuchdoubtaboutit.”
MissVanSchuylercoughedsignificantly
“Andwhataboutmystole?”shedemanded.
“Yourstole,Mademoiselle?”
“Yes,thatismyvelvetstoleyouhavethere.”
Racepickedupthedrippingfoldsofmaterial.
“Thisisyours,MissVanSchuyler?”
“Certainlyit’smine!”theoldladysnapped.“Imisseditlastnight.Iwasaskingeveryoneifthey’dseenit.”
PoirotquestionedRacewithaglance,andthelattergaveaslightnodofassent.
“Wheredidyouseeitlast,MissVanSchuyler?”
“Ihaditinthesaloonyesterdayevening.WhenIcametogotobedIcouldnotfinditanywhere.”
Racesaidquickly:“Yourealizewhatit’sbeenusedfor?”Hespreaditout,indicatingwithafingerthescorchingandseveralsmallholes.“Themurdererwrappeditroundthepistoltodeadenthenoiseoftheshot.”
“Impertinence!”snappedMissVanSchuyler.Thecolourroseinherwizenedcheeks.
Racesaid:“Ishallbeglad,MissVanSchuyler,ifyouwilltellmetheextentofyourpreviousacquaintancewithMrs.Doyle.”
“Therewasnopreviousacquaintance.”
“Butyouknewofher?”
“Iknewwhoshewas,ofcourse.”
“Butyourfamilieswerenotacquainted?”
“Asafamilywehavealwayspridedourselvesonbeingexclusive,ColonelRace.MydearmotherwouldneverhavedreamedofcallinguponanyoftheHartzfamily,who,outsidetheirwealth,werenobodies.”
“Thatisallyouhavetosay,MissVanSchuyler?”
“IhavenothingtoaddtowhatIhavetoldyou.LinnetRidgewaywasbroughtupinEnglandandIneversawhertillIcameaboardthisboat.”
Sherose.Poirotopenedthedoorandshemarchedout.
Theeyesofthetwomenmet.
“That’sherstory,”saidRace,“andshe’sgoingtosticktoit!Itmaybetrue.Idon’tknow.But—RosalieOtterbourne?Ihadn’texpectedthat.”
Poirotshookhisheadinaperplexedmanner.Thenhebroughtdownhishandonthetablewithasuddenbang.
“Butitdoesnotmakesense,”hecried.“Nomd’unnomd’unnom!Itdoesnotmakesense.”
Racelookedathim.
“Whatdoyoumeanexactly?”
“Imeanthatuptoapointitisalltheclearsailing.SomeonewishedtokillLinnetDoyle.Someoneoverheardthesceneinthesaloonlastnight.Someonesneakedinthereandretrievedthepistol—JacquelinedeBellefort’spistol,remember.SomebodyshotLinnetDoylewiththatpistolandwrotetheletterJonthewall…Allsoclear,isitnot?AllpointingtoJacquelinedeBellefortasthemurderess.Andthenwhatdoesthemurdererdo?Leavethepistol—thedamningpistol—JacquelinedeBellefort’spistol,foreveryonetofind?No,he—orshe—throwsthepistol,thatparticularlydamningbitofevidence,overboard.Why,myfriend,why?”
Raceshookhishead.“It’sodd.”
“Itismorethanodd—itisimpossible!”
“Notimpossible,sinceithappened!”
“Idonotmeanthat.Imeanthesequenceofeventsisimpossible.Somethingiswrong.”
Seventeen
ColonelRaceglancedcuriouslyathiscolleague.Herespected—hehadreasontorespect—thebrainofHerculePoirot.Yetforthemomenthedidnotfollowtheother’sprocessofthought.Heaskednoquestion,however.Heseldomdidaskquestions.Heproceededstraightforwardlywiththematterinhand.
“What’sthenextthingtobedone?QuestiontheOtterbournegirl?”
“Yes,thatmayadvanceusalittle.”
RosalieOtterbourneenteredungraciously.Shedidnotlooknervousorfrightenedinanyway—merelyunwillingandsulky.
“Well,”sheasked,“whatisit?”
Racewasthespokesman.
“We’reinvestigatingMrs.Doyle’sdeath,”heexplained.
Rosalienodded.
“Willyoutellmewhatyoudidlastnight?”
Rosaliereflectedaminute.
“MotherandIwenttobedearly—beforeeleven.Wedidn’thearanythinginparticular,exceptabitoffussoutsideDr.Bessner’scabin.Iheardtheoldman’sGermanvoiceboomingaway.OfcourseIdidn’tknowwhatitwasallabouttillthismorning.”
“Youdidn’thearashot?”
“No.”
“Didyouleaveyourcabinatalllastnight?”
“No.”
“Youarequitesureofthat?”
Rosaliestaredathim.
“Whatdoyoumean?OfcourseI’msureofit.”
“Youdidnot,forinstance,goroundtothestarboardsideoftheboatandthrowsomethingoverboard?”
Thecolourroseinherface.
“Isthereanyruleagainstthrowingthingsoverboard?”
“No,ofcoursenot.Thenyoudid?”
“No,Ididn’t.Ineverleftmycabin,Itellyou.”
“Thenifanyonesaysthattheysawyou—?”
Sheinterruptedhim.“Whosaystheysawme?”
“MissVanSchuyler.”
“MissVanSchuyler?”Shesoundedgenuinelyastonished.
“Yes.MissVanSchuylersaysshelookedoutofhercabinandsawyouthrowsomethingovertheside.”
Rosaliesaidclearly,“That’sadamnedlie.”Then,asthoughstruckbyasuddenthought,sheasked:“Whattimewasthis?”
ItwasPoirotwhoanswered.
“Itwastenminutespastone,Mademoiselle.”
Shenoddedherheadthoughtfully.“Didsheseeanythingelse?”
Poirotlookedathercuriously.Hestrokedhischin.
“See—no,”hereplied,“butsheheardsomething.”
“Whatdidshehear?”
“SomeonemovingaboutinMadameDoyle’scabin.”
“Isee,”mutteredRosalie.
Shewaspalenow—deadlypale.
“Andyoupersistinsayingthatyouthrewnothingoverboard,Mademoiselle?”
“WhatonearthshouldIrunaboutthrowingthingsoverboardforinthemiddleofthenight?”
“Theremightbeareason—aninnocentreason.”
“Innocent?”repeatedthegirlsharply
“That’swhatIsaid.Yousee,Mademoiselle,somethingwasthrownoverboardlastnight—somethingthatwasnotinnocent.”
Racesilentlyheldoutthebundleofstainedvelvet,openingittodisplayitscontents.
RosalieOtterbourneshrankback.“Wasthat—what—shewaskilledwith?”
“Yes,Mademoiselle.”
“AndyouthinkthatI—Ididit?Whatutternonsense!WhyonearthshouldIwanttokillLinnetDoyle?Idon’tevenknowher!”
Shelaughedandstoodupscornfully.“Thewholethingistooridiculous.”
“Remember,MissOtterbourne,”saidRace,“thatMissVanSchuylerispreparedtoswearshesawyourfacequiteclearlyinthemoonlight.”
Rosalielaughedagain.“Thatoldcat?She’sprobablyhalfblindanyway.Itwasn’tmeshesaw.”Shepaused.“CanIgonow?”
RacenoddedandRosalieOtterbournelefttheroom.
Theeyesofthetwomenmet.Racelightedacigarette.
“Well,that’sthat.Flatcontradiction.Whichof’emdowebelieve?”
Poirotshookhishead.“Ihavealittleideathatneitherofthemwasbeingquitefrank.”
“That’stheworstofourjob,”saidRacedespondently.“Somanypeoplekeepbackthetruthforpositivelyfutilereasons.What’sournextmove?Getonwiththequestioningofthepassengers?”
“Ithinkso.Itisalwayswelltoproceedwithorderandmethod.”
Racenodded.
Mrs.Otterbourne,dressedinfloatingbatikmaterial,succeededherdaughter.ShecorroboratedRosalie’sstatementthattheyhadbothgonetobedbeforeeleveno’clock.Sheherselfhadheardnothingofinterestduringthenight.ShecouldnotsaywhetherRosaliehadlefttheircabinornot.Onthesubjectofthecrimeshewasinclinedtoholdforth
“Thecrimepassionel!”sheexclaimed.“Theprimitiveinstinct—tokill!Socloselyalliedtothesexinstinct.Thatgirl,Jacqueline,halfLatin,hot-blooded,obeyingthedeepestinstinctsofherbeing,stealingforth,revolverinhand—”
“ButJacquelinedeBellefortdidnotshootMadameDoyle.Thatweknowforcertain.Itisproved,”explainedPoirot.
“Herhusband,then,”saidMrs.Otterbourne,rallyingfromtheblow.“Thebloodlustandthesexinstinct—asexualcrime.Therearemanywell-knowninstances.”
“Mr.Doylewasshotthroughthelegandhewasquiteunabletomove—thebonewasfractured,”explainedColonelRace.“HespentthenightwithDr.Bessner.”
Mrs.Otterbournewasevenmoredisappointed.Shesearchedhermindhopefully.
“Ofcourse!”shesaid.“Howfoolishofme!MissBowers!”
“MissBowers?”
“Yes.Naturally.It’ssoclearpsychologically.Repression!Therepressedvirgin!Maddenedbythesightofthesetwo—ayounghusbandandwifepassionatelyinlovewitheachother.Ofcourseitwasher!She’sjustthetype—sexuallyunattractive,innatelyrespectable.Inmybook,TheBarrenVine—”
ColonelRaceinterruptedtactfully:“Yoursuggestionshavebeenmosthelpful,Mrs.Otterbourne.Wemustgetonwithourjobnow.Thankyousomuch.”
Heescortedhergallantlytothedoorandcamebackwipinghisbrow.
“Whatapoisonouswoman!Whew!Whydidn’tsomebodymurderher!”
“Itmayyethappen,”Poirotconsoledhim.
“Theremightbesomesenseinthat.Whomhavewegotleft?Pennington—we’llkeephimfortheend,Ithink.Richetti—Ferguson.”
SignorRichettiwasveryvoluble,veryagitated.
“Butwhatahorror,whataninfamy—awomansoyoungandsobeautiful—indeedaninhumancrime!”
SignorRichetti’shandsflewexpressivelyupintheair.
Hisanswerswereprompt.Hehadgonetobedearly—veryearly.Infactimmediatelyafterdinner.Hehadreadforawhile—averyinterestingpamphletlatelypublished—Pr?historischeForschunginKleinasien—throwinganentirelynewlightonthepaintedpotteryoftheAnatolianfoothills.
Hehadputouthislightsometimebeforeeleven.No,hehadnotheardanyshot.Notanysoundlikethepopofacork.Theonlythinghehadheard—butthatwaslater,inthemiddleofthenight—wasasplash,abigsplash,justnearhisporthole.
“Yourcabinisonthelowerdeck,onthestarboardside,isitnot?”
“Yes,yes,thatisso.AndIheardthebigsplash.”Hisarmsflewuponcemoretodescribethebignessofthesplash.
“Canyoutellmeatallwhattimethatwas?”
SignorRichettireflected.
“Itwasone,two,threehoursafterIgotosleep.Perhapstwohours.”
“Abouttenminutespastone,forinstance?”
“Itmightverywellbe,yes.Ah!Butwhataterriblecrime—howinhuman…Socharmingawoman….”
ExitSignorRichetti,stillgesticulatingfreely.
RacelookedatPoirot.Poirotraisedhiseyebrowsexpressively,thenshruggedhisshoulders.TheypassedontoMr.Ferguson.
Fergusonwasdifficult.Hesprawledinsolentlyinachair.
“Grandto-doaboutthisbusiness!”hesneered.“What’sitreallymatter?Lotsofsuperfluouswomenintheworld!”
Racesaidcoldly:“Canwehaveanaccountofyourmovementslastnight,Mr.Ferguson?”
“Don’tseewhyyoushould,butIdon’tmind.Imoochedaroundagoodbit.WentashorewithMissRobson.WhenshewentbacktotheboatImoochedaroundbymyselfforawhile.Camebackandturnedinroundaboutmidnight.”
“Yourcabinisonthelowerdeck,starboardside?”
“Yes.I’mupamongthenobs.”
“Didyouhearashot?Itmightonlyhavesoundedlikethepoppingofacork.”
Fergusonconsidered.“Yes,IthinkIdidhearsomethinglikeacork…Can’trememberwhen—beforeIwenttosleep.Buttherewasstillalotofpeopleaboutthen—commotion,runningaboutonthedeckabove.”
“ThatwasprobablytheshotfiredbyMissdeBellefort.Youdidn’thearanother?”
Fergusonshookhishead.
“Norasplash?”
“Asplash?Yes,IbelieveIdidhearasplash.ButtherewassomuchrowgoingonIcan’tbesureaboutit.”
“Didyouleaveyourcabinduringthenight?”
Fergusongrinned.“No,Ididn’t.AndIdidn’tparticipateinthegoodwork,worseluck.”
“Come,come,Mr.Ferguson,don’tbehavechildishly.”
Theyoungmanreactedangrily.
“Whyshouldn’tIsaywhatIthink?Ibelieveinviolence.”
“Butyoudon’tpracticewhatyoupreach?”murmuredPoirot.“Iwonder.”
Heleanedforward.
“Itwastheman,Fleetwood,wasitnot,whotoldyouthatLinnetDoylewasoneoftherichestwomeninEngland?”
“What’sFleetwoodgottodowiththis?”
“Fleetwood,myfriend,hadanexcellentmotiveforkillingLinnetDoyle.Hehadaspecialgrudgeagainsther.”
Mr.Fergusoncameupoutofhisseatlikeajack-in-the-box.
“Sothat’syourdirtygame,isit?”hedemandedwrathfully.“PutitontoapoordevillikeFleetwood,whocan’tdefendhimself,who’sgotnomoneytohirelawyers.ButItellyouthis—ifyoutryandsaddleFleetwoodwiththisbusinessyou’llhavemetodealwith.”
“Andwhoexactlyareyou?”askedPoirotsweetly.
Mr.Fergusongotratherred.
“Icanstickbymyfriendsanyway,”hesaidgruffly.
“Well,Mr.Ferguson,Ithinkthat’sallweneedforthepresent,”saidRace
AsthedoorclosedbehindFergusonheremarkedunexpectedly:“Ratheralikeableyoungcub,really.”
“Youdon’tthinkheisthemanyouareafter?”askedPoirot.
“Ihardlythinkso.Isupposeheisonboard.Theinformationwasveryprecise.Oh,well,onejobatatime.Let’shaveagoatPennington.”
Eighteen
AndrewPenningtondisplayedalltheconventionalreactionsofgriefandshock.Hewas,asusual,carefullydressed.Hehadchangedintoablacktie.Hislongclean-shavenfaceboreabewilderedexpression.
“Gentlemen,”hesaidsadly,“thisbusinesshasgotmerightdown!LittleLinnet—why,Irememberherasthecutestlittlethingyoucanimagine.HowproudofherMelhuishRidgewayusedtobe,too!Well,there’snopointingoingintothat.JusttellmewhatIcando;that’sallIask.”
Racesaid:“Tobeginwith,Mr.Pennington,didyouhearanythinglastnight?”
“No,sir,Ican’tsayIdid.IhavethecabinrightnexttoDr.Bessner’snumberforty—forty-one,andIheardacertaincommotiongoingoninthereroundaboutmidnightorso.OfcourseIdidn’tknowwhatitwasatthetime.”
“Youheardnothingelse?Noshots?”
AndrewPenningtonshookhishead.
“Nothingwhateverofthatkind.”
“Andyouwenttobedatwhattime?”
“Musthavebeensometimeaftereleven.”
Heleantforward.
“Idon’tsupposeit’snewstoyoutoknowthatthere’splentyofrumoursgoingabouttheboat.Thathalf-Frenchgirl—JacquelinedeBellefort—therewassomethingfishythere,youknow.Linnetdidn’ttellmeanything,butnaturallyIwasn’tbornblindanddeaf.There’dbeensomeaffairbetweenherandSimon,sometime,hadn’tthere—Cherchezlafemme—that’saprettygoodsoundrule,andIshouldsayyouwouldn’thavetocherchezfar.”
“YoumeanthatinyourbeliefJacquelinedeBellefortshotMadameDoyle?”Poirotasked.
“That’swhatitlooksliketome.OfcourseIdon’tknowanything….”
“Unfortunatelywedoknowsomething!”
“Eh?”Mr.Penningtonlookedstartled.
“WeknowthatitisquiteimpossibleforMademoiselledeBelleforttohaveshotMadameDoyle.”
Heexplainedcarefullythecircumstances.Penningtonseemedreluctanttoacceptthem.
“Iagreeitlooksallrightonthefaceofit—butthishospitalnursewoman,I’llbetshedidn’tstayawakeallnight.Shedozedoffandthegirlslippedoutandinagain.”
“Hardlylikely,MonsieurPennington.Shehadadministeredastrongopiate,remember.Andanywayanurseisinthehabitofsleepinglightlyandwakingwhenherpatientwakes.”
“Itallsoundsratherfishytome,”declaredPennington.
Racesaidinagentlyauthoritativemanner:“Ithinkyoumusttakeitfromme,Mr.Pennington,thatwehaveexaminedallthepossibilitiesverycarefully.Theresultisquitedefinite—JacquelinedeBellefortdidnotshootMrs.Doyle.Soweareforcedtolookelsewhere.Thatiswherewehopeyoumaybeabletohelpus.”
“I?”Penningtongaveanervousstart.
“Yes.Youwereanintimatefriendofthedeadwoman.Youknowthecircumstancesofherlife,inallprobability,muchbetterthanherhusbanddoes,sinceheonlymadeheracquaintanceafewmonthsago.Youwouldknow,forinstance,ofanyonewhohadagrudgeagainsther.Youwouldknow,perhaps,whethertherewasanyonewhohadamotivefordesiringherdeath.”
AndrewPenningtonpassedhistongueoverratherdry-lookinglips.
“Iassureyou,Ihavenoidea…YouseeLinnetwasbroughtupinEngland.Iknowverylittleofhersurroundingsandassociations.”
“Andyet,”musedPoirot,“therewassomeoneonboardwhowasinterestedinMadame’sremoval.Shehadanearescapebefore,youremember,atthisveryplace,whenthatbouldercrasheddown—ah!butyouwerenotthere,perhaps?”
“No.Iwasinsidethetempleatthetime.Iheardaboutitafterwards,ofcourse.Averynearescape.Butpossiblyanaccident,don’tyouthink?”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Onethoughtsoatthetime.Now—onewonders.”
“Yes—yes,ofcourse.”Penningtonwipedhisfacewithafinesilkhandkerchief.
ColonelRacewenton:“Mr.Doylehappenedtomentionsomeonebeingonboardwhoboreagrudge—notagainstherpersonally,butagainstherfamily.Doyouknowwhothatcouldbe?”
Penningtonlookedgenuinelyastonished.
“No,I’venoidea.”
“Shedidn’tmentionthemattertoyou?”
“No.”
“Youwereanintimatefriendofherfather’s—youcannotrememberanybusinessoperationsofhisthatmighthaveresultedinruinforsomebusinessopponent?”
Penningtonshookhisheadhelplessly.“Nooutstandingcase.Suchoperationswerefrequent,ofcourse,butIcan’trecallanyonewhoutteredthreats—nothingofthatkind.”
Inshort,Mr.Pennington,youcannothelpus?”
“Itseemsso.Ideploremyinadequacy,gentlemen.”
RaceinterchangedaglancewithPoirot,thenhesaid:“I’msorrytoo.We’dhadhopes.”
Hegotupasasigntheinterviewwasatanend.
AndrewPenningtonsaid:“AsDoyle’slaidup,Iexpecthe’dlikemetoseetothings.Pardonme,Colonel,butwhatexactlyarethearrangements?”
“WhenweleavehereweshallmakeanonstopruntoShellal,arrivingtheretomorrowmorning.”
“Andthebody?”
“Willberemovedtooneofthecoldstoragechambers.”
AndrewPenningtonbowedhishead.Thenhelefttheroom.
PoirotandRaceagaininterchangedaglance.
“Mr.Pennington,”saidRace,lightingacigarette,“wasnotatallcomfortable.”
Poirotnodded.“And,”hesaid,“Mr.Penningtonwassufficientlyperturbedtotellaratherstupidlie.HewasnotinthetempleofAbuSimbelwhenthatboulderfell.I—moiquivousparle—cansweartothat.Ihadjustcomefromthere.”
“Averystupidlie,”saidRace,“andaveryrevealingone.”
AgainPoirotnodded.
“Butforthemoment,”hesaid,andsmiled,“wehandlehimwiththeglovesofkid,isitnotso?”
“Thatwastheidea,”agreedRace.
“Myfriend,youandIunderstandeachothertoamarvel.”
Therewasafaintgrindingnoise,astirbeneaththeirfeet.TheKarnakhadstartedonherhomewardjourneytoShellal.
“Thepearls,”saidRace.“Thatisthenextthingtobeclearedup.”
“Youhaveaplan?”
“Yes.”Heglancedathiswatch.“Itwillbelunchtimeinhalfanhour.AttheendofthemealIproposetomakeanannouncement—juststatethefactthatthepearlshavebeenstolen,andthatImustrequesteveryonetostayinthediningsaloonwhileasearchisconducted.”
Poirotnoddedapprovingly.
“Itiswellimagined.Whoevertookthepearlsstillhasthem.Bygivingnowarningbeforehand,therewillbenochanceoftheirbeingthrownoverboardinapanic.”
Racedrewsomesheetsofpapertowardshim.Hemurmuredapologetically:“I’dliketomakeabriefprécisofthefactsasIgoalong.Itkeepsone’smindfreeofconfusion.”
“Youdowell.Methodandorder,theyareeverything,”repliedPoirot.
Racewroteforsomeminutesinhissmallneatscript.FinallyhepushedtheresultofhislabourstowardsPoirot.
“Anythingyoudon’tagreewiththere?”Poirottookupthesheets.Theywereheaded:
MURDEROFMRS.LINNETDOYLEMrs.Doylewaslastseenalivebyhermaid,LouiseBourget.Time:11:30(approx.).From11:30–12:20followinghavealibis:CorneliaRobson,JamesFanthorp,SimonDoyle,JacquelinedeBellefort—nobodyelse—butcrimealmostcertainlycommittedafterthattime,sinceitispracticallycertainthatpistolusedwasJacquelinedeBellefort’s,whichwastheninherhandbag.Thatherpistolwasusedisnotabsolutelycertainuntilafterpostmortemandexpertevidencerebullet—butitmaybetakenasoverwhelminglyprobable.Probablecourseofevents:X(murderer)waswitnessofscenebetweenJacquelineandSimonDoyleinobservationsaloonandnotedwherepistolwentundersettee.Afterthesaloonwasvacant,Xprocuredpistol—hisorherideabeingthatJacquelinedeBellefortwouldbethoughtguiltyofcrime.Onthistheorycertainpeopleareautomaticallyclearedofsuspicion:CorneliaRobson,sinceshehadnoopportunitytotakepistolbeforeJamesFanthorpreturnedtosearchforit.MissBowers—same.Dr.Bessner—same.N.B.—Fanthorpisnotdefinitelyexcludedfromsuspicion,sincehecouldactuallyhavepocketedpistolwhiledeclaringhimselfunabletofindit.Anyotherpersoncouldhavetakenthepistolduringthattenminutes’interval.Possiblemotivesforthemurder:AndrewPennington.Thisisontheassumptionthathehasbeenguiltyoffraudulentpractices.Thereisacertainamountofevidenceinfavourofthatassumption,butnotenoughtojustifymakingoutacaseagainsthim.Ifitwashewhorolleddowntheboulder,heisamanwhocanseizeachancewhenitpresentsitself.Thecrime,clearly,wasnotpremeditatedexceptinageneralway.Lastnight’sshootingscenewasanidealopportunity.ObjectionstothetheoryofPennington’sguilt:Whydidhethrowthepistoloverboard,sinceitconstitutedavaluableclueagainstJ.B.?Fleetwood.Motive,revenge.FleetwoodconsideredhimselfinjuredbyLinnetDoyle.Mighthaveoverheardsceneandnotedpositionofpistol.Hemayhavetakenpistolbecauseitwasahandyweapon,ratherthanwiththeideaofthrowingguiltonJacqueline.Thiswouldfitinwiththrowingitoverboard.Butifthatwerethecase,whydidhewriteJinbloodonthewall?N.B.—CheaphandkerchieffoundwithpistolmorelikelytohavebelongedtoamanlikeFleetwoodthantooneofthewell-to-dopassengers.RosalieOtterbourne.ArewetoacceptMissVanSchuyler’sevidenceorRosalie’sdenial?Somethingwasthrownoverboardatthetimeandthatsomethingwaspresumablythepistolwrappedupinthevelvetstole.Pointstobenoted.HadRosalieanymotive?ShemayhavedislikedLinnetDoyleandevenbeenenviousofher—butasamotiveformurderthatseemsgrosslyinadequate.Theevidenceagainsthercanbeconvincingonlyifwediscoveranadequatemotive.Asfarasweknow,thereisnopreviousknowledgeorlinkbetweenRosalieOtterbourneandLinnetDoyle.MissVanSchuyler.ThevelvetstoleinwhichpistolwaswrappedbelongedtoMissVanSchuyler.Accordingtoherownstatementshelastsawitintheobservationsaloon.Shedrewattentiontoitslossduringtheevening,andasearchwasmadeforitwithoutsuccess.HowdidthestolecomeintothepossessionofX?DidXpurloinitsometimeearlyintheevening?Butifso,why?Nobodycouldtell,inadvance,thattherewasgoingtobeascenebetweenJacquelineandSimon.DidXfindthestoleinthesaloonwhenhewenttogetthepistolfromunderthesettee?Butifso,whywasitnotfoundwhenthesearchforitwasmade?DiditneverleaveMissVanSchuyler’spossession?Thatistosay:DidMissVanSchuylermurderLinnetDoyle?IsheraccusationofRosalieOtterbourneadeliberatelie?Ifshedidmurderher,whatwashermotive?Otherpossibilities:Robberyasamotive.Possible,sincethepearlshavedisappeared,andLinnetDoylewascertainlywearingthemlastnight.SomeonewithagrudgeagainsttheRidgewayfamily.Possible—againnoevidence.Weknowthatthereisadangerousmanonboard—akiller.Herewehaveakillerandadeath.Maynotthetwobeconnected?ButweshouldhavetoshowthatLinnetDoylepossesseddangerousknowledgeconcerningthisman.Conclusions:Wecangroupthepersonsonboardintotwoclasses—thosewhohadapossiblemotiveoragainstwhomthereisdefiniteevidence,andthosewho,asfarasweknow,arefreeofsuspicion.
GroupI:AndrewPennington
GroupII:Mrs.Allerton
GroupI:Fleetwood
GroupII:TimAllerton
GroupI:RosalieOtterbourne
GroupII:CorneliaRobson
GroupI:MissVanSchuyler
GroupII:MissBowers
GroupI:LouiseBourget(Robbery?)
GroupII:Dr.Bessner
GroupI:Ferguson(Political?)
GroupII:SignorRichetti
GroupII:Mrs.Otterbourne
GroupII:JamesFanthorp
Poirotpushedthepaperback.
“Itisveryjust,veryexact,whatyouhavewrittenthere.”
“Youagreewithit?”
“Yes.”
“Andnowwhatisyourcontribution?”
Poirotdrewhimselfupinanimportantmanner.
“Me,Iposemyselfonequestion:‘Whywasthepistolthrownoverboard?’”
“That’sall?”
“Atthemoment,yes.UntilIcanarriveatasatisfactoryanswertothatquestion,thereisnotsenseanywhere.Thatis—thatmustbethestartingpoint.Youwillnotice,myfriend,that,inyoursummaryofwherewestand,youhavenotattemptedtoanswerthatpoint.”
Raceshruggedhisshoulders.
“Panic.”
Poirotshookhisheadperplexedly.Hepickedupthesoddenvelvetwrapandsmootheditout,wetandlimp,onthetable.Hisfingerstracedthescorchedmarksandtheburntholes.
“Tellme,myfriend,”hesaidsuddenly.“YouaremoreconversantwithfirearmsthanIam.Wouldsuchathingasthis,wrappedroundapistol,makemuchdifferenceinmufflingthesound?”
“No,itwouldn’t.Notlikeasilencer,forinstance.”
Poirotnodded.Hewenton:“Aman—certainlyamanwhohadhadmuchhandlingoffirearms—wouldknowthat.Butawoman—awomanwouldnotknow.”
Racelookedathimcuriously.“Probablynot.”
“No.Shewouldhavereadthedetectivestorieswheretheyarenotalwaysveryexactastodetails.”
Raceflickedthelittlepearl-handledpistolwithhisfinger.
“Thislittlefellowwouldn’tmakemuchnoiseanyway,”hesaid.“Justapop,that’sall.Withanyothernoisearound,tentooneyouwouldn’tnoticeit.”
“Yes,Ihavereflectedastothat.”
Poirotpickedupthehandkerchiefandexaminedit.
“Aman’shandkerchief—butnotagentleman’shandkerchief.CecherWoolworth,Iimagine.Threepenceatmost.”
“ThesortofhandkerchiefamanlikeFleetwoodwouldown.”
“Yes.AndrewPennington,Inotice,carriesaveryfinesilkhandkerchief.”
“Ferguson?”suggestedRace.
“Possibly.Asagesture.Butthenitoughttobeabandana.”
“Useditinsteadofaglove,Isuppose,toholdthepistolandobviatefingerprints.”Raceadded,withslightfacetiousness,“‘TheClueoftheBlushingHandkerchief.’”
“Ah,yes.Quiteajeunefillecolour,isitnot?”Helaiditdownandreturnedtothestole,oncemoreexaminingthepowdermarks.
“Allthesame,”hemurmured,“itisodd….”
“What’sthat?”
Poirotsaidgently:“CettepauvreMadameDoyle.Lyingtheresopeacefully…withthelittleholeinherhead.Yourememberhowshelooked?”
Racelookedathimcuriously.“Youknow,”hesaid,“I’vegotanideayou’retryingtotellmesomething—butIhaven’tthefaintestideawhatitis.”
Nineteen
Therewasataponthedoor.
“Comein,”Racecalled.
Astewardentered.
“Excuseme,sir,”hesaidtoPoirot,“butMr.Doyleisaskingforyou.”
“Iwillcome.”
Poirotrose.Hewentoutoftheroomandupthecompanion-waytothepromenadedeckandalongittoDr.Bessner’scabin.
Simon,hisfaceflushedandfeverish,wasproppedupwithpillows.Helookedembarrassed.
“Awfullygoodofyoutocomealong,MonsieurPoirot.Lookhere,there’ssomethingIwanttoaskyou.”
“Yes?”
Simongotstillredderintheface.
“It’s—it’saboutJackie.Iwanttoseeher.Doyouthink—wouldyoumind—wouldshemind,d’youthink,ifyouaskedhertocomealonghere?YouknowI’vebeenlyingherethinking…Thatwretchedkid—sheisonlyakidafterall—andItreatedherdamn’badly—and—”Hestammeredtosilence.
Poirotlookedathimwithinterest.
“YoudesiretoseeMademoiselleJacqueline?Iwillfetchher.”
“Thanks.Awfullygoodofyou.”
Poirotwentonhisquest.HefoundJacquelinedeBellefortsittinghuddledupinacorneroftheobservationsaloon.Therewasanopenbookonherlapbutshewasnotreading.
Poirotsaidgently:“Willyoucomewithme,Mademoiselle?MonsieurDoylewantstoseeyou.”
Shestartedup.Herfaceflushed—thenpaled.Shelookedbewildered.
“Simon?Hewantstoseeme—toseeme?”
Hefoundherincredulitymoving.
“Willyoucome,Mademoiselle?”
Shewentwithhiminadocilefashion,likeachild,butlikeapuzzledchild.
“I—yes,ofcourseIwill.”
Poirotpassedintothecabin.
“HereisMademoiselle.”
Shesteppedinafterhim,wavered,stoodstill…standingtheremuteanddumb,hereyesfixedonSimon’sface.
“Hullo,Jackie.”He,too,wasembarrassed.Hewenton:“Awfullygoodofyoutocome.Iwantedtosay—Imean—whatImeanis—”
Sheinterruptedhimthen.Herwordscameoutinarush—breathless,desperate.
“Simon—Ididn’tkillLinnet.YouknowIdidn’tdothat…I—I—wasmadlastnight.Oh,canyoueverforgiveme?”
Wordscamemoreeasilytohimnow.
“Ofcourse.That’sallright!Absolutelyallright!That’swhatIwantedtosay.Thoughtyoumightbeworryingabit,youknow….”
“Worrying?Abit?Oh!Simon!”
“That’swhatIwantedtoseeyouabout.It’squiteallright,see,oldgirl?Youjustgotabitrattledlastnight—ashadetight.Allperfectlynatural.”
“Oh,Simon!Imighthavekilledyou!”
“Notyou.Notwitharottenlittlepeashooterlikethat….”
“Andyourleg!Perhapsyou’llneverwalkagain….”
“Now,lookhere,Jackie,don’tbemaudlin.AssoonaswegettoAssuanthey’regoingtoputtheX-raytowork,anddigoutthattin-potbullet,andeverythingwillbeasrightasrain.”
Jacquelinegulpedtwice,thensherushedforwardandkneltdownbySimon’sbed,buryingherfaceandsobbing.Simonpattedherawkwardlyonthehead.HiseyesmetPoirot’sand,withareluctantsigh,thelatterleftthecabin.
Heheardbrokenmurmursashewent:
“HowcouldIbesuchadevil?Oh,Simon!…I’msodreadfullysorry.”
OutsideCorneliaRobsonwasleaningovertherail.Sheturnedherhead.
“Oh,it’syou,MonsieurPoirot.Itseemssoawfulsomehowthatitshouldbesuchalovelyday.”
Poirotlookedupatthesky.
“Whenthesunshinesyoucannotseethemoon,”hesaid.“Butwhenthesunisgone—ah,whenthesunisgone.”
Cornelia’smouthfellopen.
“Ibegyourpardon?”
“Iwassaying,Mademoiselle,thatwhenthesunhasgonedown,weshallseethemoon.Thatisso,isitnot?”
“Why—why,yes—certainly.”
Shelookedathimdoubtfully.
Poirotlaughedgently.
“Iuttertheimbecilities,”hesaid.“Takenonotice.”
Hestrolledgentlytowardsthesternoftheboat.Ashepassedthenextcabinhepausedforaminute.Hecaughtfragmentsofspeechfromwithin.
“Utterlyungrateful—afterallI’vedoneforyou—noconsiderationforyourwretchedmother—noideaofwhatIsuffer….”
Poirot’slipsstiffenedashepressedthemtogether.Heraisedahandandknocked.
“IsMademoiselleRosaliethere?”
Rosalieappearedinthedoorway.Poirotwasshockedatherappearance.Thereweredarkcirclesunderhereyesanddrawnlinesroundhermouth.
“What’sthematter?”shesaidungraciously.“Whatdoyouwant?”
“Thepleasureofafewminutes’conversationwithyou,Mademoiselle.Willyoucome?”
Hermouthwentsulkyatonce.Sheshothimasuspiciouslook.
“WhyshouldI?”
“Ientreatyou,Mademoiselle.”
“Oh,Isuppose—”
Shesteppedoutonthedeck,closingthedoorbehindher.
“Well?”
Poirottookhergentlybythearmanddrewheralongthedeck,stillinthedirectionofthestern.Theypassedthebathroomsandroundthecorner.Theyhadthesternpartofthedecktothemselves.TheNileflowedawaybehindthem.
Poirotrestedhiselbowsontherail.Rosaliestoodupstraightandstiff.
“Well?”sheaskedagain,andhervoiceheldthesameungracioustone.
Poirotspokeslowly,choosinghiswords.“Icouldaskyoucertainquestions,Mademoiselle,butIdonotthinkforonemomentthatyouwouldconsenttoanswerthem.”
“Seemsratherawastetobringmealongherethen.”
Poirotdrewafingerslowlyalongthewoodenrail.
“Youareaccustomed,Mademoiselle,tocarryingyourownburdens…Butyoucandothattoolong.Thestrainbecomestoogreat.Foryou,Mademoiselle,thestrainisbecomingtoogreat.”
“Idon’tknowwhatyouaretalkingabout,”saidRosalie.
“Iamtalkingaboutfacts,Mademoiselle—plainuglyfacts.Letuscallthespadethespadeandsayitinonelittleshortsentence.Yourmotherdrinks,Mademoiselle.”
Rosaliedidnotanswer.Hermouthopened;thenshecloseditagain.Foroncesheseemedataloss.
“Thereisnoneedforyoutotalk,Mademoiselle.Iwilldoallthetalking.IwasinterestedatAssuanintherelationsexistingbetweenyou.Isawatoncethat,inspiteofyourcarefullystudiedunfilialremarks,youwereinrealitypassionatelyprotectingherfromsomething.Iverysoonknewwhatthatsomethingwas.IknewitlongbeforeIencounteredyourmotheronemorninginanunmistakablestateofintoxication.Moreover,hercase,Icouldsee,wasoneofsecretboutsofdrinking—byfarthemostdifficultkindofcasewithwhichtodeal.Youwerecopingwithitmanfully.Nevertheless,shehadallthesecretdrunkard’scunning.Shemanagedtogetholdofasecretsupplyofspiritsandtokeepitsuccessfullyhiddenfromyou.Ishouldnotbesurprisedifyoudiscovereditshidingplaceonlyyesterday.Accordingly,lastnight,assoonasyourmotherwasreallysoundlyasleep,youstoleoutwiththecontentsofthecache,wentroundtotheothersideoftheboat(sinceyourownsidewasupagainstthebank)andcastitoverboardintotheNile.”
Hepaused.
“Iamright,amInot?”
“Yes—you’requiteright.”Rosaliespokewithsuddenpassion.“Iwasafoolnottosayso,Isuppose!ButIdidn’twanteveryonetoknow.Itwouldgoallovertheboat.Anditseemedso—sosilly—Imean—thatI—”
Poirotfinishedthesentenceforher.
“Sosillythatyoushouldbesuspectedofcommittingamurder?”
Rosalienodded.
Thensheburstoutagain:“I’vetriedsohardto—keepeveryonefromknowing…Itisn’treallyherfault.Shegotdiscouraged.Herbooksdidn’tsellanymore.Peoplearetiredofallthatcheapsexstuff…Ithurther—ithurtherdreadfully.Andsoshebeganto—todrink.ForalongtimeIdidn’tknowwhyshewassoqueer.Then,whenIfoundout,Itriedto—tostopit.She’dbeallrightforabit,andthen,suddenly,she’dstart,andtherewouldbedreadfulquarrelsandrowswithpeople.Itwasawful.”Sheshuddered.“Ihadalwaystobeonthewatch—togetheraway….”
“Andthen—shebegantodislikemeforit.She—she’sturnedrightagainstme.Ithinkshealmosthatesmesometimes.”
“Pauvrepetite,”saidPoirot.
Sheturnedonhimvehemently.
“Don’tbesorryforme.Don’tbekind.It’seasierifyou’renot.”Shesighed—alongheartrendingsigh.“I’msotired…I’msodeadly,deadlytired.”
“Iknow,”saidPoirot.
“PeoplethinkI’mawful.Stuck-upandcrossandbad-tempered.Ican’thelpit.I’veforgottenhowtobe—tobenice.”
“ThatiswhatIsaidtoyou;youhavecarriedyourburdenbyyourselftoolong.”
Rosaliesaidslowly.“It’sarelief—totalkaboutit.You—you’vealwaysbeenkindtome,MonsieurPoirot.I’mafraidI’vebeenrudetoyouoften.”
“Lapolitesse,itisnotnecessarybetweenfriends.”
Thesuspicioncamebacktoherfacesuddenly.
“Areyou—areyougoingtotelleveryone?Isupposeyoumust,becauseofthosedamnedbottlesIthrewoverboard.”
“No,no,itisnotnecessary.JusttellmewhatIwanttoknow.Atwhattimewasthis?Tenminutespastone?”
“Aboutthat,Ishouldthink.Idon’trememberexactly.”
“Nowtellme,Mademoiselle.MademoiselleVanSchuylersawyou,didyouseeher?”
Rosalieshookherhead.
“No,Ididn’t.”
“Shesaysthatshelookedoutofthedoorofhercabin.”
“Idon’tthinkIshouldhaveseenher.Ijustlookedalongthedeckandthenouttotheriver.”
Poirotnodded.
“Anddidyouseeanyone—anyoneatall,whenyoulookeddownthedeck?”
Therewasapause—quitealongpause.Rosaliewasfrowning.Sheseemedtobethinkingearnestly.
Atlastsheshookherheadquitedecisively.
“No,”shesaid.“Isawnobody.”
HerculePoirotslowlynoddedhishead.Buthiseyesweregrave.
Twenty
Peoplecreptintothediningsaloonbyonesandtwosinaverysubduedmanner.Thereseemedageneralfeelingthattositdowneagerlytofooddisplayedanunfortunateheartlessness.Itwaswithanalmostapologeticairthatonepassengerafteranothercameandsatdownattheirtables.
TimAllertonarrivedsomefewminutesafterhismotherhadtakenherseat.Hewaslookinginathoroughlybadtemper.
“Iwishwe’dnevercomeonthisblastedtrip,”hegrowled.
Mrs.Allertonshookherheadsadly.
“Oh,mydear,sodoI.Thatbeautifulgirl!Itallseemssuchawaste.Tothinkthatanyonecouldshootherincoldblood.Itseemsawfultomethatanyonecoulddosuchathing.Andthatotherpoorchild.”
“Jacqueline?”
“Yes;myheartachesforher.Shelookssodreadfullyunhappy.”
“Teachhernottogoroundloosingofftoyfirearms,”saidTimunfeelinglyashehelpedhimselftobutter.
“Iexpectshewasbadlybroughtup.”
“Oh,forGod’ssake,Mother,don’tgoallmaternalaboutit.”
“You’reinashockingbadtemper,Tim.”
“YesIam.Whowouldn’tbe?”
“Idon’tseewhatthereistobecrossabout.It’sjustfrightfullysad.”
Timsaidcrossly:“You’retakingtheromanticpointofview!Whatyoudon’tseemtorealizeisthatit’snojokebeingmixedupinamurdercase.”
Mrs.Allertonlookedalittlestartled.
“Butsurely—”
“That’sjustit.There’sno‘Butsurely’aboutit.Everyoneonthisdamnedboatisundersuspicion—youandIaswellastherestofthem.”
Mrs.Allertondemurred.“Technicallyweare,Isuppose—butactuallyit’sridiculous!”
“There’snothingridiculouswheremurder’sconcerned!Youmaysitthere,darling,justexudingvirtueandconsciousrectitude,butalotofunpleasantpolicemanatShellalorAssuanwon’ttakeyouatyourfacevalue.”
“Perhapsthetruthwillbeknownbeforethen.”
“Whyshoulditbe?”
“MonsieurPoirotmayfindout.”
“Thatoldmountebank?Hewon’tfindoutanything.He’salltalkandmoustaches.”
“Well,Tim,”saidMrs.Allerton.“Idaresayeverythingyousayistrue,but,evenifitis,we’vegottogothroughwithit,sowemightaswellmakeupourmindstoitandgothroughwithitascheerfullyaswecan.”
Buthersonshowednoabatementofgloom.
“There’sthisblastedbusinessofthepearlsbeingmissing,too.”
“Linnet’spearls?”
“Yes.Itseemssomebodymusthavepinched’em.”
“Isupposethatwasthemotiveforthecrime,”saidMrs.Allerton.
“Whyshoulditbe?You’remixinguptwoperfectlydifferentthings.”
“Whotoldyouthattheyweremissing?”
“Ferguson.Hegotitfromhistoughfriendintheengineroom,whogotitfromthemaid.”
“Theywerelovelypearls,”declaredMrs.Allerton.
Poirotsatdownatthetable,bowingtoMrs.Allerton.
“Iamalittlelate,”hesaid.
“Iexpectyouhavebeenbusy,”Mrs.Allertonreplied.
“Yes,Ihavebeenmuchoccupied.”
Heorderedafreshbottleofwinefromthewaiter.
“We’reverycatholicinourtastes,”saidMrs.Allerton.“Youdrinkwinealways;Timdrinkswhiskyandsoda,andItryallthedifferentbrandsofmineralwaterinturn.”
“Tiens!”saidPoirot.Hestaredatherforamoment.Hemurmuredtohimself:“Itisanidea,that….”
Then,withanimpatientshrugofhisshoulders,hedismissedthesuddenpreoccupationthathaddistractedhimandbegantochatlightlyofothermatters.
“IsMr.Doylebadlyhurt?”askedMrs.Allerton.
“Yes,itisafairlyseriousinjury.Dr.BessnerisanxioustoreachAssuansothathislegcanbeX-rayedandthebulletremoved.Buthehopestherewillbenopermanentlameness.”
“PoorSimon,”saidMrs.Allerton.“Onlyyesterdayhelookedsuchahappyboy,witheverythingintheworldhewanted.Andnowhisbeautifulwifekilledandhehimselflaidupandhelpless.Idohope,though—”
“Whatdoyouhope,Madame?”askedPoirotasMrs.Allertonpaused.
“Ihopehe’snottooangrywiththatpoorchild.”
“WithMademoiselleJacqueline?Quitethecontrary.Hewasfullofanxietyonherbehalf.”
HeturnedtoTim.
“Youknow,itisaprettylittleproblemofpsychology,that.AllthetimethatMademoiselleJacquelinewasfollowingthemfromplacetoplace,hewasabsolutelyfurious;butnow,whenshehasactuallyshothim,andwoundedhimdangerously—perhapsmadehimlameforlife—allhisangerseemstohaveevaporated.Canyouunderstandthat?”
“Yes,”saidTimthoughtfully,“IthinkIcan.Thefirstthingmadehimfeelafool—”
Poirotnodded.“Youareright.Itoffendedhismaledignity.”
“Butnow—ifyoulookatitacertainway,it’sshewho’smadeafoolofherself.Everyone’sdownonher,andso—”
“Hecanbegenerouslyforgiving,”finishedMrs.Allerton.“Whatchildrenmenare!”
“Aprofoundlyuntruestatementthatwomenalwaysmake,”murmuredTim.
Poirotsmiled.ThenhesaidtoTim:“Tellme,MadameDoyle’scousin,MissJoannaSouthwood,didsheresembleMadameDoyle?”
“You’vegotitalittlewrong,MonsieurPoirot.ShewasourcousinandLinnet’sfriend.”
“Ah,pardon—Iwasconfused.Sheisayoungladymuchinthenews,that.Ihavebeeninterestedinherforsometime.”
“Why?”askedTimsharply.
PoirothalfrosetobowtoJacquelinedeBellefort,whohadjustcomeinandpassedtheirtableonthewaytoherown.Hercheekswereflushedandhereyesbright,andherbreathcamealittleunevenly.AsheresumedhisseatPoirotseemedtohaveforgottenTim’squestion.Hemurmuredvaguely:“Iwonderifallyoungladieswithvaluablejewelsare
“Itistrue,then,thattheywerestolen?”askedMrs.Allerton.
“Whotoldyouso,Madame?”
“Fergusonsaidso,”Timvolunteered.
Poirotnoddedgravely.
“Itisquitetrue.”
“Isuppose,”Mrs.Allertonnervously,“thatthiswillmeanalotofunpleasantnessforallofus.Timsaysitwill.”
Hersonscowled,butPoirothadturnedtohim.
“Ah!Youhavehadpreviousexperience,perhaps?Youhavebeeninahousewheretherewasarobbery?”
“Never,”saidTim.
“Oh,yes,darling,youwereatthePortarlingtons’thattime—whenthatawfulwoman’sdiamondswerestolen.”
“Youalwaysgetthingshopelesslywrong,Mother.Iwastherewhenitwasdiscoveredthatthediamondsshewaswearingroundherfatneckwereonlypaste!Theactualsubstitutionwasprobablydonemonthsearlier.Asamatteroffact,oflotofpeoplesaidshe’dhaditdoneherself!”
“Joannasaidso,Iexpect.”
“Joannawasn’tthere.”
“Butsheknewthemquitewell.Andit’sverylikehertomakethatkindofsuggestion.”
“You’realwaysdownonJoanna,Mother.”
Poirothastilychangedthesubject.HehaditinmindtomakeareallybigpurchaseatoneoftheAssuanshops.SomeveryattractivepurpleandgoldmaterialatoneoftheIndianmerchants.Therewould,ofcourse,bethedutytopay,but—
“Theytellmethattheycan—howdoyousay—expediteitforme.Andthatthechargeswillnotbetoohigh.Howthinkyou,willitarriveallright?”
Mrs.Allertonsaidthatmanypeople,soshehadheard,hadhadthingssentstraighttoEnglandfromtheshopsinquestionandthateverythinghadarrivedsafely.
“Bien.ThenIwilldothat.Butthetroubleonehas,whenoneisabroad,ifaparcelcomesoutfromEngland!Haveyouhadexperienceofthat?Haveyouhadanyparcelsarrivesinceyouhavebeenonyourtravels?”
“Idon’tthinkwehave,havewe,Tim?Yougetbookssometimes,butofcoursethereisneveranytroubleaboutthem.”
“Ah,no,booksaredifferent.”
Desserthadbeenserved.Now,withoutanypreviouswarning,ColonelRacestoodupandmadehisspeech.
Hetouchedonthecircumstancesofthecrimeandannouncedthetheftofthepearls.Asearchoftheboatwasabouttobeinstituted,andhewouldbeobligedifallthepassengerswouldremaininthesaloonuntilthiswascompleted.Then,afterthat,ifthepassengersagreed,ashewassuretheywould,theythemselveswouldbekindenoughtosubmittoasearch.
Poirotslippednimblyalongtohisside.Therewasalittlebuzzandhumallroundthem.Voicesdoubtful,indignant,excited….
PoirotreachedRace’ssideandmurmuredsomethinginhisearjustasthelatterwasabouttoleavethediningsaloon
Racelistened,noddedassent,andbeckonedasteward.Hesaidafewbriefwordstohim;then,togetherwithPoirot,hepassedoutontothedeck,closingthedoorbehindhim.
Theystoodforaminuteortwobytherail.Racelitacigarette.
“Notabadideaofyours,”hesaid.“We’llsoonseeifthere’sanythinginit.I’llgive’emthreeminutes.”
Thedoorofthediningsaloonopenedandthesamestewardtowhomtheyhadspokencameout.HesalutedRaceandsaid:“Quiteright,sir.There’saladywhosaysit’surgentsheshouldspeaktoyouatoncewithoutdelay.”
“Ah!”Race’sfaceshowedsatisfaction.
“Whoisit?”
“MissBowers,sir,thehospitalnurselady.”
AslightshadeofsurpriseshowedonRace’sface.Hesaid,“Bringhertothesmokingroom.Don’tletanyoneelseleave.”
“No,sir—theotherstewardwillattendtothat.”
Hewentbackintothediningroom.PoirotandRacewenttothesmokingroom.
“Bowers,eh?”mutteredRace.
TheyhadhardlygotinsidethesmokingroombeforethestewardreappearedwithMissBowers.Heusheredherinandleft,shuttingthedoorbehindhim.
“Well,MissBowers?”ColonelRacelookedatherinquiringly.“What’sallthis?”
MissBowerslookedherusualcomposed,unhurriedself.Shedisplayednoparticularemotion.
“You’llexcuseme,ColonelRace,”shesaid,“butunderthecircumstancesIthoughtthebestthingtodowouldbetospeaktoyouatonce”—sheopenedherneatblackhandbag—“andtoreturnyouthese.”
Shetookoutastringofpearlsandlaidthemonthetable.
Twenty-One
IfMissBowershadbeenthekindofwomanwhoenjoyedcreatingasensation,shewouldhavebeenrichlyrepaidbytheresultofheraction.
AlookofutterastonishmentpassedoverColonelRace’sfaceashepickedupthepearlsfromthetable.
“Thisismostextraordinary,”hesaid.“Willyoukindlyexplain,MissBowers?”
“Ofcourse.That’swhatI’vecometodo.”MissBowerssettledherselfcomfortablyinachair.“Naturallyitwasalittledifficultformetodecidewhatitwasbestformetodo.Thefamilywouldnaturallybeaversetoscandalofanykind,andtheytrustedmydiscretion,butthecircumstancesaresoveryunusualthatitreallyleavesmenochoice.Ofcourse,whenyoudidn’tfindanythinginthecabins,yournextmovewouldbeasearchofthepassengers,and,ifthepearlswerethenfoundinmypossession,itwouldberatheranawkwardsituationandthetruthwouldcomeoutjustthesame.”
“Andjustwhatisthetruth?DidyoutakethesepearlsfromMrs.Doyle’scabin?”
“Oh,no,ColonelRace,ofcoursenot.MissVanSchuylerdid.”
“MissVanSchuyler?”
“Yes.Shecan’thelpit,youknow,butshedoes—er—takethings.Especiallyjewellery.That’sreallywhyI’malwayswithher.It’snotherhealthatall;it’sthislittleidiosyncrasy.Ikeeponthealert,andfortunatelythere’sneverbeenanytroublesinceI’vebeenwithher.Itjustmeansbeingwatchful,youknow.Andshealwayshidesthethingsshetakesinthesameplace—rolledupinapairofstockings—sothatitmakesitverysimple.Ilookeachmorning.OfcourseI’malightsleeper,andIalwayssleepnextdoortoher,andwiththecommunicatingdooropenifit’sinahotel,sothatIusuallyhear.ThenIgoafterherandpersuadehertogobacktobed.Ofcourseit’sbeenrathermoredifficultonaboat.Butshedoesn’tusuallydoitatnight.It’smorejustpickingupthingsthatsheseesleftabout.Ofcourse,pearlshaveagreatattractionforheralways.”
MissBowersceasedspeaking.
Raceasked:“Howdidyoudiscovertheyhadbeentaken?”
“Theywereinherstockingsthismorning.Iknewwhosetheywere,ofcourse.I’veoftennoticedthem.Iwentalongtoputthemback,hopingthatMrs.Doylewasn’tupyetandhadn’tdiscoveredherloss.Buttherewasastewardstandingthere,andhetoldmeaboutthemurderandthatnoonecouldgoin.Sothen,yousee,Iwasinaregularquandary.ButIstillhopedtoslipthembackinthecabinlater,beforetheirabsencehadbeennoticed.IcanassureyouI’vepassedaveryunpleasantmorningwonderingwhatwasthebestthingtodo.Yousee,theVanSchuylerfamilyissoveryparticularandexclusive.Itwouldneverdoifthisgotintothenewspapers.Butthatwon’tbenecessary,willit?”
MissBowersreallylookedworried.
“Thatdependsoncircumstances,”saidColonelRacecautiously.
“Butweshalldoourbestforyou,ofcourse.WhatdoesMissVanSchuylersaytothis?”
“Oh,she’lldenyit,ofcourse.Shealwaysdoes.Sayssomewickedpersonhasputitthere.Sheneveradmitstakinganything.That’swhyifyoucatchherintimeshegoesbacktobedlikealamb.Saysshejustwentouttolookatthemoon.Somethinglikethat.”
“DoesMissRobsonknowaboutthis—er—failing?”
“No,shedoesn’t.Hermotherknows,butshe’saverysimplekindofgirlandhermotherthoughtitbestsheshouldknownothingaboutit.IwasquiteequaltodealingwithMissVanSchuyler,”addedthecompetentMissBowers.
“Wehavetothankyou,Mademoiselle,forcomingtoussopromptly,”saidPoirot.
MissBowersstoodup.
“I’msureIhopeIactedforthebest.”
“Beassuredthatyouhave.”
“Yousee,whatwiththerebeingamurderaswell—”
ColonelRaceinterruptedher.Hisvoicewasgrave.
“MissBowers,Iamgoingtoaskyouaquestion,andIwanttoimpressuponyouthatithasgottobeansweredtruthfully.MissVanSchuylerisunhingedmentallytotheextentofbeingakleptomaniac.Hasshealsoatendencytohomicidalmania?”
MissBowers’answercameimmediately:“Oh,dearme,no!Nothingofthatkind.Youcantakemywordforitabsolutely.Theoldladywouldn’thurtafly.”
Thereplycamewithsuchpositiveassurancethatthereseemednothingmoretobesaid.NeverthelessPoirotdidinterpolateonemildinquiry.
“DoesMissVanSchuylersufferatallfromdeafness?”
“Asamatteroffactshedoes,MonsieurPoirot.Notsothatyou’dnoticeinanyway,notifyouwerespeakingtoher,Imean.Butquiteoftenshedoesn’thearyouwhenyoucomeintoaroom.Thingslikethat.”
“DoyouthinkshewouldhaveheardanyonemovingaboutinMrs.Doyle’scabin,whichisnextdoortoherown?”
“Oh,Ishouldn’tthinkso—notforaminute.Yousee,thebunkistheothersideofthecabin,notevenagainstthepartitionwall.No,Idon’tthinkshewouldhaveheardanything.”
“Thankyou,MissBowers.”
Racesaid:“Perhapsyouwillnowgobacktothediningsaloonandwaitwiththeothers?”
Heopenedthedoorforherandwatchedhergodownthestaircaseandenterthesaloon.Thenheshutthedoorandcamebacktothetable.Poirothadpickedupthepearls.
“Well,”saidRacegrimly,“thatreactioncameprettyquickly.That’saverycoolheadedandastuteyoungwoman—perfectlycapableofholdingoutonusandstillfurtherifshethinksitsuitsherbook.WhataboutMissMarieVanSchuylernow?Idon’tthinkwecaneliminateherfromthepossiblesuspects.Youknow,shemighthavecommittedmurdertogetholdofthosejewels.Wecan’ttakethenurse’swordforit.She’sallouttodothebestforthefamily.”
Poirotnoddedinagreement.Hewasverybusywiththepearls,runningthemthroughhisfingers,holdingthemuptohiseyes.
Hesaid:“Wemaytakeit,Ithink,thatpartoftheoldlady’sstorytousistrue.ShedidlookoutofhercabinandshedidseeRosalieOtterbourne.ButIdon’tthinksheheardanythingoranyoneinLinnetDoyle’scabin.Ithinkshewasjustpeeringoutfromhercabinpreparatorytoslippingalongandpurloiningthepearls.”
“TheOtterbournegirlwasthere,then?”
“Yes.Throwinghermother’ssecretcacheofdrinkoverboard.”
ColonelRaceshookhisheadsympathetically.
“Sothat’sit!Toughonayoung’un.”
“Yes,herlifehasnotbeenverygay,cettepauvrepetiteRosalie.”
“Well,I’mgladthat’sbeenclearedup.Shedidn’tseeorhearanything?”
“Iaskedherthat.Sheresponded—afteralapseofquitetwentyseconds—thatshesawnobody.”
“Oh?”Racelookedalert.
“Yes,itissuggestive,that.”
Racesaidslowly:“IfLinnetDoylewasshotroundabouttenminutespastone,orindeedanytimeaftertheboathadquieteddown,ithasseemedamazingtomethatnooneheardtheshot.Igrantyouthatalittlepistollikethatwouldn’tmakemuchnoise,butallthesametheboatwouldbedeadlyquiet,andanynoise,evenalittlepop,shouldhave
HepausedandlookedexpectantlyatPoirot,whonodded.
“Thecabinnexttoherontheothersideoftheboat.Inotherwords—Pennington.WealwaysseemtocomebacktoPennington.”
“Wewillcomebacktohimpresentlywiththekidglovesremoved!Ah,yes,Iampromisingmyselfthatpleasure.”
“Inthemeantimewe’dbettergetonwithoursearchoftheboat.Thepearlsstillmakeaconvenientexcuse,eventhoughtheyhavebeenreturned—butMissBowersisnotlikelytoadvertisethefact.”
“Ah,thesepearls!”Poirotheldthemupagainstthelightoncemore.Hestuckouthistongueandlickedthem;heevengingerlytriedoneofthembetweenhisteeth.Then,withasigh,hethrewthemdownonthetable.
“Herearemorecomplications,myfriend,”hesaid.“Iamnotanexpertonpreciousstones,butIhavehadagooddealtodowiththeminmytimeandIamfairlycertainofwhatIsay.Thesepearlsareonlyacleverimitation.”
Twenty-Two
ColonelRacesworehastily.
“Thisdamnedcasegetsmoreandmoreinvolved.”Hepickedupthepearls.“Isupposeyou’venotmadeamistake?Theylookallrighttome.”
“Theyareaverygoodimitation—yes.”
“Nowwheredoesthatleadus?IsupposeLinnetDoyledidn’tdeliberatelyhaveanimitationmadeandbringitaboardwithherforsafety.Manywomendo.”
“Ithink,ifthatwereso,herhusbandwouldknowaboutit.”
“Shemaynothavetoldhim.”
Poirotshookhisheadinadissatisfiedmanner.
“No,Idonotthinkthatisso.IwasadmiringMadameDoyle’spearlsthefirsteveningontheboat—theirwonderfulsheenandlustre.Iamsurethatshewaswearingthegenuineonesthen.”
“Thatbringsusupagainsttwopossibilities.First,thatMissVanSchuyleronlystoletheimitationstringaftertherealoneshadbeenstolenbysomeoneelse.Second,thatthewholekleptomaniacstoryisafabrication.EitherMissBowersisathief,andquicklyinventedthestoryandallayedsuspicionbyhandingoverthefalsepearls,orelsethatwholepartyisinittogether.Thatistosay,theyareagangofcleverjewelthievesmasqueradingasanexclusiveAmericanfamily.”
“Yes,”Poirotmurmured.“Itisdifficulttosay.ButIwillpointouttoyouonething—tomakeaperfectandexactcopyofthepearls,claspandall,goodenoughtostandachanceofdeceivingMadameDoyle,isahighlyskilledtechnicalperformance.Itcouldnotbedoneinahurry.Whoevercopiedthosepearlsmusthavehadagoodopportunityofstudyingtheoriginal.”
Racerosetohisfeet.
“Uselesstospeculateaboutitanyfurthernow.Let’sgetonwiththejob.We’vegottofindtherealpearls.Andatthesametimewe’llkeepoureyesopen.”
Theydisposedofthecabinsoccupiedonthelowerdeck.ThatofSignorRichetticontainedvariousarchaeologicalworksindifferentlanguages,avariedassortmentofclothing,hairlotionsofahighlyscentedkindandtwopersonalletters—onefromanarchaeologicalexpeditioninSyria,andonefrom,apparently,asisterinRome.Hishandkerchiefswereallofcolouredsilk.
TheypassedontoFerguson’scabin.
Therewasasprinklingofcommunisticliterature,agoodmanysnapshots,SamuelButler’sErewhonandacheapeditionofPepys’Diary.Hispersonalpossessionswerenotmany.Mostofwhatouterclothingtherewaswastornanddirty;theunderclothing,ontheotherhand,wasofreallygoodquality.Thehandkerchiefswereexpensivelinenones.
“Someinterestingdiscrepancies,”murmuredPoirot.
Racenodded.“Ratheroddthatthereareabsolutelynopersonalpapers,letters,etc.”
“Yes;thatgivesonetothink.Anoddyoungman,MonsieurFerguson.”Helookedthoughtfullyatasignetringheheldinhishand,beforereplacingitinthedrawerwherehehadfoundit.
TheywentalongtothecabinoccupiedbyLouiseBourget.Themaidhadhermealsaftertheotherpassengers,butRacehadsentwordthatshewastobetakentojointheothers.Acabinstewardmetthem.
“I’msorry,sir,”heapologized,“butI’venotbeenabletofindtheyoungwomananywhere.Ican’tthinkwhereshecanhavegotto.”
Raceglancedinsidethecabin.Itwasempty.
Theywentuptothepromenadedeckandstartedonthestarboardside.ThefirstcabinwasthatoccupiedbyJamesFanthorp.Hereallwasinmeticulousorder.Mr.Fanthorptravelledlight,butallthathehadwasofgoodquality.
“Noletters,”saidPoirotthoughtfully.“Heiscareful,ourMr.Fanthorp,todestroyhiscorrespondence.”
TheypassedontoTimAllerton’scabin,nextdoor.
TherewereevidenceshereofanAnglo-Catholicturnofmind—anexquisitelittletriptych,andabigrosaryofintricatelycarvedwood.Besidespersonalclothing,therewasahalfcompletedmanuscript,agooddealannotatedandscribbledover,andagoodcollectionofbooks,mostofthemrecentlypublished.Therewerealsoaquantityoflettersthrowncarelesslyintoadrawer.Poirot,neverintheleastscrupulousaboutreadingotherpeople’scorrespondence,glancedthroughthem.HenotedthatamongstthemtherewerenolettersfromJoannaSouthwood.HepickedupatubeofSeccotine,fingereditabsentlyforaminuteortwo,thensaid:“Letuspasson.”
“NoWoolworthhandkerchiefs,”reportedRace,rapidlyreplacingthecontentsofadrawer.
Mrs.Allerton’scabinwasthenext.Itwasexquisitelyneat,andafaintold-fashionedsmelloflavenderhungaboutit.Thetwomen’ssearchwassoonover.Raceremarkedastheyleftit:“Nicewoman,that.”
ThenextcabinwasthatwhichhadbeenusedasadressingroombySimonDoyle.Hisimmediatenecessities—pyjamas,toiletthings,etc.—hadbeenmovedtoBessner’scabin,buttheremainderofhispossessionswerestillthere—twogood-sizedleathersuitcasesandakitbag.Therewerealsosomeclothesinthewardrobe.
“Wewilllookcarefullyhere,myfriend,”saidPoirot,“foritispossiblethatthethiefhidthepearlshere.”
“Youthinkitislikely?”
“Butyes,indeed.Consider!Thethief,whoeverheorshemaybe,mustknowthatsoonerorlaterasearchwillbemade,andthereforeahidingplaceinhisorherowncabinwouldbeinjudiciousintheextreme.Thepublicroomspresentotherdifficulties.Buthereisacabinbelongingtoamanwhocannotpossiblyvisitithimselfsothat,ifthepearlsarefoundhere,ittellsusnothingatall.”Butthemostmeticuloussearchfailedtorevealanytraceofthemissingnecklace.
Poirotmurmured“Zut!”tohimselfandtheyemergedoncemoreonthedeck.
LinnetDoyle’scabinhadbeenlockedafterthebodywasremoved,butRacehadthekeywithhim.Heunlockedthedoorandthetwomensteppedinside.
Exceptfortheremovalofthegirl’sbody,thecabinwasexactlyasithadbeenthatmorning.
“Poirot,”saidRace,“ifthere’sanythingtobefoundhere,forGod’ssakegoaheadandfindit.Youcanifanyonecan—Iknowthat.”
“Thistimeyoudonotmeanthepearls,monami?”
“No.Themurder’sthemainthing.TheremaybesomethingIoverlookedthismorning.”
Quietly,deftly,Poirotwentabouthissearch.Hewentdownonhiskneesandscrutinizedthefloorinchbyinch.Heexaminedthebed.Hewentrapidlythroughthewardrobeandchestofdrawers.Hewentthroughthewardrobetrunkandthetwocostlysuitcases.Helookedthroughtheexpensivegold-fitteddressing-case.Finallyheturnedhisattentiontothewashstand.Therewerevariouscreams,powders,facelotions.ButtheonlythingthatseemedtointerestPoirotweretwolittlebottleslabelledNailex.Hepickedthemupatlastandbroughtthemtothedressingtable.One,whichboretheinscriptionNailexRose,wasemptybutforadroportwoofdarkredfluidatthebottom.Theother,thesamesize,butlabelledNailexCardinal,wasnearlyfull.Poirotuncorkedfirsttheempty,thenthefullone,andsniffedthembothdelicately.
Anodourofpeardropsbillowedintotheroom.Withaslightgrimaceherecorkedthem.
“Getanything?”askedRace.
PoirotrepliedbyaFrenchproverb:“Onneprendpaslesmouchesaveclevinaigre.”Thenhesaidwithasigh:“Myfriend,wehavenotbeenfortunate.Themurdererhasnotbeenobliging.Hehasnotdroppedforusthecufflink,thecigaretteend,thecigarash—or,inthecaseofthewoman,thehandkerchief,thelipstick,orthehairslide.”
“Onlythebottleofnailpolish?”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.“Imustaskthemaid.Thereissomething—yes—alittlecuriousthere.”
“Iwonderwherethedevilthegirl’sgotto?”saidRace.
Theyleftthecabin,lockingthedoorbehindthem,andpassedontothatofMissVanSchuyler.
Hereagainwerealltheappurtenancesofwealth—expensivetoiletfittings,goodluggage,acertainnumberofprivatelettersandpapersallperfectlyinorder.
ThenextcabinwasthedoubleoneoccupiedbyPoirot,andbeyonditthatofRace.“Hardlyliketohide’emineitherofthese,”saidtheColonel.
Poirotdemurred.“Itmightbe.Once,ontheOrientExpress,Iinvestigatedamurder.Therewasalittlematterofascarletkimono.Ithaddisappeared,andyetitmustbeonthetrain.Ifoundit—wheredoyouthink?Inmyownlockedsuitcase!Ah!Itwasanimpertinence,that!”
“Well,let’sseeifanybodyhasbeenimpertinentwithyouormethistime.”
ButthethiefofthepearlshadnotbeenimpertinentwithHerculePoirotorwithColonelRace.
RoundingthesterntheymadeaverycarefulsearchofMissBowers’cabinbutcouldfindnothingofasuspiciousnature.Herhandkerchiefswereofplainlinenwithaninitial.
TheOtterbournes’cabincamenext.Here,again,Poirotmadeaverymeticuloussearch,butwithnoresult.
ThenextcabinwasBessner’s.SimonDoylelaywithanuntastedtrayoffoodbesidehim.
“Offmyfeed,”hesaidapologetically
Hewaslookingfeverishandverymuchworsethanearlierintheday.PoirotappreciatedBessner’sanxietytogethimasswiftlyaspossibletohospitalandskilledappliances.ThelittleBelgianexplainedwhatthetwoofthemweredoing,andSimonnoddedapproval.OnlearningthatthepearlshadbeenrestoredbyMissBowers,butprovedtobemerelyimitation,heexpressedthemostcompleteastonishment.
“Youarequitesure,MonsieurDoyle,thatyourwifedidnothaveanimitationstringwhichshebroughtaboardwithherinsteadoftherealones?”
Simonshookhisheaddecisively.
“Oh,no.I’mquitesureofthat.Linnetlovedthosepearlsandshewore’emeverywhere.Theywereinsuredagainsteverypossiblerisk,soIthinkthatmadeherabitcareless.”
“Thenwemustcontinueoursearch.”
Hestartedopeningdrawers.Raceattackedasuitcase.
Simonstared.“Lookhere,yousurelydon’tsuspectoldBessnerpinchedthem?”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Itmightbeso.Afterall,whatdoweknowofDr.Bessner?Onlywhathehimselfgivesout.”
“Buthecouldn’thavehiddentheminherewithoutmyseeinghim.”
“Hecouldnothavehiddenanythingtodaywithoutyourhavingseenhim.Butwedonotknowwhenthesubstitutiontookplace.Hemayhaveeffectedtheexchangesomedaysago.”
“Ineverthoughtofthat.”
Butthesearchwasunavailing.
ThenextcabinwasPennington’s.Thetwomenspentsometimeintheirsearch.Inparticular,PoirotandRaceexaminedcarefullyacasefulloflegalandbusinessdocuments,mostofthemrequiringLinnet’ssignature.
Poirotshookhisheadgloomily.“Theseseemallsquareandaboveboard.Youagree?”
“Absolutely.Still,themanisn’tabornfool.Iftherehadbeenacompromisingdocumentthere—apowerofattorneyorsomethingofthatkind—he’dbeprettysuretohavedestroyeditfirstthing.”
“Thatisso,yes.”
PoirotliftedaheavyColtrevolveroutofthetopdrawerofthechestofdrawers,lookedatitandputitback.
“Soitseemstherearestillsomepeoplewhotravelwithrevolvers,”hemurmured.
“Yes,alittlesuggestive,perhaps.Still,LinnetDoylewasn’tshotwithathingthatsize.”Racepausedandthensaid:“Youknow,I’vethoughtofapossibleanswertoyourpointaboutthepistolbeingthrownoverboard.SupposingthattheactualmurdererdidleaveitinLinnetDoyle’scabin,andthatsomeoneelse—somesecondperson—tookitawayandthrewitintotheriver?”
“Yes,thatispossible.Ihavethoughtofit.Butitopensupawholestringofquestions.Whowasthatsecondperson?WhatinteresthadtheyinendeavouringtoshieldJacquelinedeBellefortbytakingawaythepistol?Whatwasthesecondpersondoingthere?TheonlyotherpersonweknowofwhowentintothecabinwasMademoiselleVanSchuyler.WasitconceivablyMademoiselleVanSchuylerwhoremovedit?WhyshouldshewishtoshieldJacquelinedeBellefort?Andyet—whatotherreasoncantherebefortheremovalofthepistol?”
Racesuggested,“Shemayhaverecognizedthestoleashers,gotthewindup,andthrownthewholebagoftricksoveronthataccount.”
“Thestole,perhaps,butwouldshehavegotridofthepistol,too?Still,Iagreethatitisapossiblesolution.Butitisalways—bonDieu!Itisclumsy.Andyoustillhavenotappreciatedonepointaboutthestole—”
AstheyemergedfromPennington’scabinPoirotsuggestedthatRaceshouldsearchtheremainingcabins,thoseoccupiedbyJacqueline,Cornelia,andtwoemptyonesattheend,whilehehimselfhadafewwordswithSimonDoyle.Accordinglyheretracedhisstepsalongthedeckandre-enteredBessner’scabin.
Simonsaid:“Lookhere,I’vebeenthinking.I’mperfectlysurethatthosepearlswereallrightyesterday.”
“Whyisthat,MonsieurDoyle?”
“BecauseLinnet”—hewincedasheutteredhiswife’sname—“waspassingthemthroughherhandsjustbeforedinnerandtalkingaboutthem.Sheknewsomethingaboutpearls.Ifeelcertainshe’dhaveknowniftheywereafake.”
“Theywereaverygoodimitation,though.Tellme,wasMadameDoyleinthehabitoflettingthosepearlsoutofherhands?Didsheeverlendthemtoafriendforinstance?”
Simonflushedwithslightembarrassment
“Yousee,MonsieurPoirot,it’sdifficultformetosay…I—I—well,yousee,Ihadn’tknownLinnetverylong.”
“Ah,no,itwasaquickromance—yours.”
Simonwenton.“Andso—really—Ishouldn’tknowathinglikethat.ButLinnetwasawfullygenerouswithherthings.Ishouldthinkshemighthavedone.”
“Shenever,forinstance”—Poirot’svoicewasverysmooth—“shenever,forinstance,lentthemtoMademoiselledeBellefort?”
“Whatd’youmean?”Simonflushedbrick-red,triedtositupand,wincing,fellback.“Whatareyougettingat?ThatJackiestolethepearls?Shedidn’t.I’llswearshedidn’t.Jackie’sasstraightasadie.Themereideaofherbeingathiefisridiculous—absolutelyridiculous.”
Poirotlookedathimwithgentlytwinklingeyes.“Oh,la!la!la!”hesaidunexpectedly.“Thatsuggestionofmine,ithasindeedstirredupthenestofhornets.”
Simonrepeateddoggedly,unmovedbyPoirot’slighternote,“Jackie’sstraight!”
Poirotrememberedagirl’svoicebytheNileinAssuansaying,“IloveSimon—andhelovesme….”
Hehadwonderedwhichofthethreestatementshehadheardthatnightwasthetrueone.ItseemedtohimthatithadturnedouttobeJacquelinewhohadcomeclosesttothetruth.
ThedooropenedandRacecamein.
“Nothing,”hesaidbrusquely.“Well,wedidn’texpectit.Iseethestewardscomingalongwiththeirreportastothesearchingofthepassengers.”
Astewardandstewardessappearedinthedoorway.Theformerspokefirst.“Nothing,sir.”
“Anyofthegentlemenmakeanyfuss?”
“OnlytheItaliangentleman,sir.Hecarriedonagooddeal.Saiditwasadishonour—somethingofthatkind.He’dgotagunonhim,too.”
“Whatkindofagun?”
“Mauserautomatictwenty-five,sir.”
“Italiansareprettyhot-tempered,”saidSimon.“RichettigotinnoendofastewatWadiHalfajustbecauseofamistakeoveratelegram.HewasdarnedrudetoLinnetoverit.”
Raceturnedtothestewardess.Shewasabighandsome-lookingwoman.
“Nothingonanyoftheladies,sir.Theymadeagooddealoffuss—exceptforMrs.Allerton,whowasasniceasnicecouldbe.Notasignofthepearls.Bytheway,theyounglady,MissRosalieOtterbourne,hadalittlepistolinherhandbag.”
“Whatkind?”
“Itwasaverysmallone,sir,withapearlhandle.Akindoftoy.”
Racestared.“Deviltakethiscase,”hemuttered.“Ithoughtwe’dgotherclearedofsuspicion,andnow—Doeseverygirlonthisblinkingboatcarryaroundpearl-handledtoypistols?”
Heshotaquestionatthestewardess.“Didsheshowanyfeelingoveryourfindingit?”
Thewomanshookherhead.“Idon’tthinkshenoticed.IhadmybackturnedwhilstIwasgoingthroughthehandbag.”
“Still,shemusthaveknownyou’dcomeacrossit.Oh,well,itbeatsme.Whataboutthemaid?”
“We’velookedallovertheboat,sir.Wecan’tfindheranywhere.”
“What’sthis?”askedSimon.
“Mrs.Doyle’smaid—LouiseBourget.She’sdisappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
Racesaidthoughtfully:“Shemighthavestolenthepearls.Sheistheonepersonwhohadampleopportunitytogetareplicamade.”
“Andthen,whenshefoundasearchwasbeinginstituted,shethrewherselfoverboard?”Simonsuggested.
“Nonsense,”repliedRace,irritably.“Awomancan’tthrowherselfoverboardinbroaddaylight,fromaboatlikethis,withoutsomebodyrealizingthefact.She’sboundtobesomewhereonboard.”Headdressedthestewardessoncemore.“Whenwasshelastseen?”
“Abouthalfanhourbeforethebellwentforlunch,sir.”
“We’llhavealookathercabinanyway,”saidRace.“Thatmaytellussomething.”
Heledthewaytothedeckbelow.Poirotfollowedhim.Theyunlockedthedoorofthecabinandpassedinside.
LouiseBourget,whosetradeitwastokeepotherpeople’sbelongingsinorder,hadtakenaholidaywhereherownwereconcerned.Oddsandendslitteredthetopofthechestofdrawers;asuitcasegapedopen,withclotheshangingoutofthesideofitandpreventingitshutting;underclothinghunglimplyoverthesidesofthechairs.
AsPoirot,withswiftneatfingers,openedthedrawersofthedressing-chest,Raceexaminedthesuitcase.
Louise’sshoeswerelinedalongbythebed.Oneofthem,ablackpatentleather,seemedtoberestingatanextraordinaryangle,almostunsupported.TheappearanceofitwassooddthatitattractedRace’sattention.
Heclosedthesuitcaseandbentoverthelineofshoes.Thenheutteredasharpexclamation.
“Qu’est-cequ’ilya?”
Racesaidgrimly:“Shehasn’tdisappeared.She’shere—underthebed….”
Twenty-Three
Thebodyofthedeadwoman,whoinlifehadbeenLouiseBourget,layonthefloorofhercabin.Thetwomenbentoverit.
Racestraightenedhimselffirst.
“Beendeadcloseonanhour,Ishouldsay.We’llgetBessnerontoit.Stabbedtotheheart.Deathprettywellinstantaneous,Ishouldimagine.Shedoesn’tlookpretty,doesshe?”
“No.”
Poirotshookhisheadwithaslightshudder.
Thedarkfelinefacewasconvulsed,asthoughwithsurpriseandfury,thelipsdrawnbackfromtheteeth.
Poirotbentagaingentlyandpickeduptherighthand.Somethingjustshowedwithinthefingers.HedetacheditandhelditouttoRace,alittlesliverofflimsypapercolouredapalemauvishpink.
“Youseewhatitis?”
“Money,”saidRace.
“Thecornerofathousand-francnote,Ifancy.”
“Well,it’sclearwhathappened,”saidRace.“Sheknewsomething—andshewasblackmailingthemurdererwithherknowledge.Wethoughtshewasn’tbeingquitestraightthismorning.”
Poirotcriedout:“Wehavebeenidiots—fools!Weshouldhaveknown—then.Whatdidshesay?‘WhatcouldIhaveseenorheard?Iwasonthedeckbelow.Naturally,ifIhadbeenunabletosleep,ifIhadmountedthestairs,thenperhapsImighthaveseenthisassassin,thismonster,enterorleaveMadame’scabin,butasitis—’Ofcourse,thatiswhatdidhappen!Shedidcomeup.ShedidseesomeoneglidingintoLinnetDoyle’scabin—orcomingoutofit.And,becauseofhergreed,herinsensategreed,shelieshere—”
“Andwearenonearertoknowingwhokilledher,”finishedRacedisgustedly.
Poirotshookhishead.“No,no.Weknowmuchmorenow.Weknow—weknowalmosteverything.Onlywhatweknowseemsincredible…Yetitmustbeso.OnlyIdonotsee.Pah!WhatafoolIwasthismorning!Wefelt—bothofusfelt—thatshewaskeepingsomethingback,andyetweneverrealizedthatlogicalreason,blackmail.”
“Shemusthavedemandedhushmoneystraightaway,”saidRace.“Demandeditwiththreats.ThemurdererwasforcedtoaccedetothatrequestandpaidherinFrenchnotes.Anythingthere?”
Poirotshookhisheadthoughtfully.“Ihardlythinkso.Manypeopletakeareserveofmoneywiththemwhentravelling—sometimesfive-poundnotes,sometimesdollars,butveryoftenFrenchnotesaswell.Possiblythemurdererpaidherallhehadinamixtureofcurrencies.Letuscontinueourreconstruction.”
“Themurderercomestohercabin,givesherthemoney,andthen—”
“Andthen,”saidPoirot,“shecountsit.Oh,yes,Iknowthatclass.Shewouldcountthemoney,andwhileshecounteditshewascompletelyoffherguard.Themurdererstruck.Havingdonesosuccessfully,hegatheredupthemoneyandfled—notnoticingthatthecornerofoneofthenoteswastorn.”
“Wemaygethimthatway,”suggestedRacedoubtfully.
“Idoubtit,”saidPoirot.“Hewillexaminethosenotes,andwillprobablynoticethetear.Ofcourseifhewereofaparsimoniousdispositionhewouldnotbeabletobringhimselftodestroyamillenote—butIverymuchfearthathistemperamentisjusttheopposite.”
“Howdoyoumakethatout?”
“BoththiscrimeandthemurderofMadameDoyledemandedcertainqualities—courage,audacity,boldexecution,lightningaction;thosequalitiesdonotaccordwithasaving,prudentdisposition.”
Raceshookhisheadsadly.“I’dbettergetBessnerdown,”hesaid.
Thestoutdoctor’sexaminationdidnottakelong.AccompaniedbyagoodmanyAch’sandSo’s,hewenttowork.
“Shehasbeendeadnotmorethananhour,”heannounced.“Deathitwasveryquick—atonce.”
“Andwhatweapondoyouthinkwasused?”
“Ach,itisinterestingthat.Itwassomethingverysharp,verythin,verydelicate.Icouldshowyouthekindofthing.”
Backagaininhiscabinheopenedacaseandextractedalong,delicate,surgicalknife.
“Itwassomethinglikethat,myfriend;itwasnotacommontableknife.”
“Isuppose,”suggestedRacesmoothly,“thatnoneofyourownknivesare—er—missing,Doctor?”
Bessnerstaredathim;thenhisfacegrewredwithindignation.
“Whatisthatyousay?DoyouthinkI—I,CarlBessner—whoissowell-knownalloverAustria—Iwithmyclients,myhighlybornpatients—Ihavekilledamiserablelittlefemmedechambre?Ah,butitisridiculous—absurd,whatyousay!Noneofmyknivesaremissing—notone,Itellyou.Theyareallhere,correct,intheirplaces.Youcanseeforyourself.AndthisinsulttomyprofessionIwillnotforget.”
Dr.Bessnerclosedhiscasewithasnap,flungitdown,andstampedoutontothedeck.
“Whew!”saidSimon.“You’veputtheoldboy’sbackup.”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.“Itisregrettable.”
“You’reonthewrongtack.OldBessner’soneofthebest,eventhoughheisakindofBoche.”
Dr.Bessnerreappearedsuddenly.
“Willyoubesokindastoleavemenowmycabin?Ihavetodothedressingofmypatient’sleg.”
MissBowershadenteredwithhimandstood,briskandprofessional,waitingfortheotherstogo.
RaceandPoirotcreptoutmeekly.Racemutteredsomethingandwentoff.Poirotturnedtohisleft.Heheardscrapsofgirlishconversation,alittlelaugh.JacquelineandRosalieweretogetherinthelatter’scabin.
Thedoorwasopenandthetwogirlswerestandingnearit.Ashisshadowfellonthemtheylookedup.HesawRosalieOtterbournesmileathimforthefirsttime—ashywelcomingsmile—alittleuncertaininitslines,asofonewhodoesanewandunfamiliarthing.
“Youtalkthescandal,Mesdemoiselles?”heaccusedthem.
“No,indeed,”saidRosalie.“Asamatteroffactwewerejustcomparinglipsticks.”
Poirotsmiled.“Leschiffonsd’aujourd’hui,”hemurmured.
Buttherewassomethingalittlemechanicalabouthissmile,andJacquelinedeBellefort,quickerandmoreobservantthanRosalie,sawit.Shedroppedthelipstickshewasholdingandcameoutuponthedeck.
“Hassomething—whathashappenednow?”
“Itisasyouguess,Mademoiselle;somethinghashappened.”
“What?”Rosaliecameouttoo.
“Anotherdeath,”saidPoirot.
Rosaliecaughtherbreathsharply.Poirotwaswatchinghernarrowly.Hesawalarmandsomethingmore—consternation—showforaminuteortwoinhereyes.
“MadameDoyle’smaidhasbeenkilled,”hetoldthembluntly.
“Killed?”criedJacqueline.“Killed,doyousay?”
“Yes,thatiswhatIsaid.”Thoughhisanswerwasnominallytoher,itwasRosaliewhomhewatched.ItwasRosalietowhomhespokeashewenton:“Yousee,thismaidshesawsomethingshewasnotintendedtosee.Andso—shewassilenced,incasesheshouldnotholdhertongue.”
“Whatwasitshesaw?”
AgainitwasJacquelinewhoasked,andagainPoirot’sanswerwastoRosalie.Itwasanoddlittlethree-corneredscene.
“Thereis,Ithink,verylittledoubtwhatitwasshesaw,”saidPoirot.“ShesawsomeoneenterandleaveLinnetDoyle’scabinonthatfatalnight.”
Hisearswerequick.Heheardthesharpintakeofbreathandsawtheeyelidsflicker.RosalieOtterbournehadreactedjustasheintendedsheshould.
“Didshesaywhoitwasshesaw?”Rosalieasked.
Gently—regretfully—Poirotshookhishead.
Footstepspatteredupthedeck.ItwasCorneliaRobson,hereyeswideandstartled.
“Oh,Jacqueline,”shecried,“somethingawfulhashappened!Anotherdreadfulthing!”
Jacquelineturnedtoher.Thetwomovedafewstepsforward.AlmostunconsciouslyPoirotandRosalieOtterbournemovedintheotherdirection.
Rosaliesaidsharply:“Whydoyoulookatme?Whathaveyougotinyourmind?”
“Thatistwoquestionsyouaskme.Iwillaskyouonlyoneinreturn.Whydoyounottellmeallthetruth,Mademoiselle?”
“Idon’tknowwhatyoumean.Itoldyou—everything—thismorning.”
“No,therewerethingsyoudidnottellme.Youdidnottellmethatyoucarryaboutinyourhandbagasmall-calibrepistolwithapearlhandle.Youdidnottellmeallthatyousawlastnight.”
Sheflushed.Thenshesaidsharply:“It’squiteuntrue.Ihaven’tgotarevolver.”
“Ididnotsayarevolver.Isaidasmallpistolthatyoucarryaboutinyourhandbag.”
Shewheeledround,dartedintohercabinandoutagainandthrusthergreyleatherhandbagintohishands.
“You’retalkingnonsense.Lookforyourselfifyoulike.”
Poirotopenedthebag.Therewasnopistolinside.
Hehandedthebagbacktoher,meetingherscornfultriumphantglance.
“No,”hesaidpleasantly.“Itisnotthere.”
“Yousee.You’renotalwaysright,MonsieurPoirot.Andyou’rewrongaboutthatotherridiculousthingyousaid.”
“No,Idonotthinkso.”
“You’reinfuriating!”Shestampedanangryfoot.
“Yougetanideaintoyourhead,andyougoonandonandonaboutit.”
“BecauseIwantyoutotellmethetruth.”
“Whatisthetruth?YouseemtoknowitbetterthanIdo.”
Poirotsaid:“Youwantmetotellwhatitwasyousaw?IfIamright,willyouadmitthatIamright?Iwilltellyoumylittleidea.Ithinkthatwhenyoucameroundthesternoftheboatyoustoppedinvoluntarilybecauseyousawamancomeoutofacabinabouthalfwaydownthedeck—LinnetDoyle’scabin,asyourealizednextday.Yousawhimcomeout,closethedoorbehindhim,andwalkawayfromyoudownthedeckand—perhaps—enteroneofthetwoendcabins.Now,then,amIright,Mademoiselle?”
Shedidnotanswer.
Poirotsaid:“Perhapsyouthinkitiswisernottospeak.Perhapsyouareafraidthat,ifyoudo,youtoowillbekilled.”
Foramomenthethoughtshehadrisentotheeasybait,thattheaccusationagainsthercouragewouldsucceedwheremoresubtleargumentswouldhavefailed.
Herlipsopened—trembled—then,“Isawnoone,”saidRosalieOtterbourne.
Twenty-Four
MissBowerscameoutofDr.Bessner’scabin,smoothinghercuffsoverherwrists.
JacquelineleftCorneliaabruptlyandaccostedthehospitalnurse.
“Howishe?”shedemanded.
Poirotcameupintimetoheartheanswer.MissBowerswaslookingratherworried.
“Thingsaren’tgoingtoobadly,”shesaid.
Jacquelinecried:“Youmean,he’sworse?”
“Well,ImustsayIshallberelievedwhenwegetinandcangetaproperX-raydoneandthewholethingcleanedupunderananaesthetic.WhendoyouthinkweshallgettoShellal,MonsieurPoirot?”
“Tomorrowmorning.”
MissBowerspursedherlipsandshookherhead.
“It’sveryfortunate.Wearedoingallwecan,butthere’salwayssuchadangerofseptic?mia.”
JacquelinecaughtMissBowers’armandshookit.
“Ishegoingtodie?Ishegoingtodie?”
“Dearme,no,MissdeBellefort.Thatis,Ihopenot,I’msure.Thewoundinitselfisn’tdangerous,butthere’snodoubtitoughttobeX-rayedassoonaspossible.Andthen,ofcoursepoorMr.Doyleoughttohavebeenkeptabsolutelyquiettoday.He’shadfartoomuchworryandexcitement.Nowonderhistemperatureisrising.Whatwiththeshockofhiswife’sdeath,andonethingandanother—”
Jacquelinerelinquishedhergraspofthenurse’sarmandturnedaway.Shestoodleaningovertheside,herbacktotheothertwo.
“WhatIsayis,we’vegottohopeforthebestalways,”saidMissBowers.“OfcourseMr.Doylehasaverystrongconstitution—onecanseethat—probablyneverhadaday’sillnessinhislife.Sothat’sinhisfavour.Butthere’snodenyingthatthisriseintemperatureisanastysignand—”
Sheshookherhead,adjustedhercuffsoncemore,andmovedbrisklyaway.
Jacquelineturnedandwalkedgropingly,blindedbytears,towardshercabin.Ahandbelowherelbowsteadiedandguidedher.ShelookedupthroughthetearstofindPoirotbyherside.Sheleanedonhimalittleandheguidedherthroughthecabindoor.
Shesankdownonthebedandthetearscamemorefreely,punctuatedbygreatshudderingsobs.
“He’lldie!He’lldie!Iknowhe’lldie…AndIshallhavekilledhim.Yes,Ishallhavekilledhim….”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.Heshookhisheadalittle,sadly.“Mademoiselle,whatisdoneisdone.Onecannottakebacktheaccomplishedaction.Itistoolatetoregret.”
Shecriedoutmorevehemently:“Ishallhavekilledhim!AndIlovehimso…Ilovehimso.”
Poirotsighed.“Toomuch….”
IthadbeenhisthoughtlongagointherestaurantofM.Blondin.Itwashisthoughtagainnow.
Hesaid,hesitatingalittle:“Donot,atallevents,gobywhatMissBowerssays.Hospitalnurses,me,Ifindthemalwaysgloomy!Thenightnurse,always,sheisastonishedtofindherpatientaliveintheevening;thedaynurse,always,sheissurprisedtofindhimaliveinthemorning!Theyknowtoomuch,yousee,ofthepossibilitiesthatmayarise.Whenoneismotoringonemighteasilysaytooneself:‘Ifacarcameoutfromthatcrossroad—orifthatlorrybackedsuddenly—orifthewheelcameoffthecarthatisapproaching—orifadogjumpedoffthehedgeontomydrivingarm—ehbien,Ishouldprobablybekilled!’Butoneassumes,andusuallyrightly,thatnoneofthesethingswillhappen,andthatonewillgettoone’sjourney’send.Butif,ofcourse,onehasbeeninanaccident,orseenoneormoreaccidents,thenoneisinclinedtotaketheoppositepointofview.”
Jacquelineasked,halfsmilingthroughhertears:“Areyoutryingtoconsoleme,MonsieurPoirot?”
“ThebonDieuknowswhatIamtryingtodo!Youshouldnothavecomeonthisjourney.”
“No—IwishIhadn’t.It’sbeen—soawful.But—itwillbesoonovernow.”
“Maisoui—maisoui.”
“AndSimonwillgotothehospital,andthey’llgivethepropertreatmentandeverythingwillbeallright.”
“Youspeaklikethechild!‘Andtheylivedhappilyeverafterward.’Thatisit,isitnot?”
Sheflushedsuddenlyscarlet.
“MonsieurPoirot,Inevermeant—never—”
“Itistoosoontothinkofsuchathing!Thatistheproperhypocriticalthingtosay,isitnot?ButyouarepartlyaLatin,MademoiselleJacqueline.Youshouldbeabletoadmitfactseveniftheydonotsoundverydecorous.Leroiestmort—viveleroi!Thesunhasgoneandthemoonrises.Thatisso,isitnot?”
“Youdon’tunderstand.He’sjustsorryforme—awfullysorryforme,becauseheknowshowterribleitisformetoknowI’vehurthimsobadly.”
“Ah,well,”saidPoirot.“Thepurepity,itisaveryloftysentiment.”
Helookedatherhalfmockingly,halfwithsomeotheremotion.
HemurmuredsoftlyunderhisbreathwordsinFrench:
“Lavieestvaine.Unpeud’amour,Unpeudehaine,Etpuisbonjour.Lavieestbrève.Unpeud’espoir,Unpeuderêve,Etpuisbonsoir.”
Hewentoutagainontothedeck.ColonelRacewasstridingalongthedeckandhailedhimatonce.
“Poirot.Goodman!Iwantyou.I’vegotanidea.”
ThrustinghisarmthroughPoirot’shewalkedhimupthedeck.
“JustachanceremarkofDoyle’s.Ihardlynoticeditatthetime.Somethingaboutatelegram.”
“Tiens—c’estvrai.”
“Nothinginit,perhaps,butonecan’tleaveanyavenueunexplored.Damnitall,man,twomurders,andwe’restillinthedark.”
Poirotshookhishead.“No,notinthedark.Inthelight.”
Racelookedathimcuriously.“Youhaveanidea?”
“Itismorethananideanow.Iamsure.”
“Since—when?”
“Sincethedeathofthemaid,LouiseBourget.”
“DamnedifIseeit!”
“Myfriend,itissoclear—soclear.Onlytherearedifficulties—embarrassments—impediments!Seeyou,aroundapersonlikeLinnetDoylethereissomuch—somanyconflictinghatesandjealousiesandenviesandmeannesses.Itislikeacloudofflies,buzzing,buzzing….”
“Butyouthinkyouknow?”Theotherlookedathimcuriously.“Youwouldn’tsaysounlessyouweresure.Can’tsayI’veanyreallight,myself.I’vesuspicions,ofcourse….”
Poirotstopped.HelaidanimpressivehandonRace’sarm.
“Youareagreatman,monColonel…Youdonotsay:‘Tellme.Whatisitthatyouthink?’YouknowthatifIcouldspeaknowIwould.Butthereismuchtobeclearedawayfirst.Butthink,thinkforamomentalongthelinesthatIshallindicate.Therearecertainpoints…ThereisthestatementofMademoiselledeBellefortthatsomeoneoverheardourconversationthatnightinthegardenatAssuan.ThereisthestatementofMonsieurTimAllertonastowhatheheardanddidonthenightofthecrime.ThereareLouiseBourget’ssignificantanswerstoourquestionsthismorning.ThereisthefactthatMadameAllertondrinkswater,thathersondrinkswhiskyandsodaandthatIdrinkwine.AddtothatthefactoftwobottlesofnailpolishandtheproverbIquoted.Andfinallywecometothecruxofthewholebusiness,thefactthatthepistolwaswrappedupinacheaphandkerchiefandavelvetstoleandthrownoverboard….”
Racewassilentaminuteortwo,thenheshookhishead.
“No,”hesaid.“Idon’tseeit.Mind,I’vegotafaintideawhatyou’redrivingat,butasfarasIcansee,itdoesn’twork.”
“Butyes…butyes.Youareseeingonlyhalfthetruth.Andrememberthis—wemuststartagainfromthebeginning,sinceourfirstconceptionwasentirelywrong.”
Racemadeaslightgrimace.
“I’musedtothat.Itoftenseemstomethat’salldetectiveworkis,wipingoutyourfalsestartsandbeginningagain.”
“Yes,itisverytrue,that.Anditisjustwhatsomepeoplewillnotdo.Theyconceiveacertaintheory,andeverythinghastofitintothattheory.Ifonelittlefactwillnotfitit,theythrowitaside.Butitisalwaysthefactsthatwillnotfitinthataresignificant.AllalongIhaverealizedthesignificanceofthatpistolbeingremovedfromthesceneofthecrime.Iknewthatitmeantsomething,butwhatthatsomethingwasIonlyrealizedonelittlehalfhourago.”
“AndIstilldon’tseeit!”
“Butyouwill!OnlyreflectalongthelinesIindicated.Andnowletusclearupthismatterofatelegram.Thatis,iftheHerrDoktorwilladmitus.”
Dr.Bessnerwasstillinaverybadhumour.Inanswertotheirknockhedisclosedascowlingface.
“Whatisit?Oncemoreyouwishtoseemypatient?ButItellyouitisnotwise.Hehasfever.Hehashadmorethanenoughexcitementtoday.”
“Justonequestion,”saidRace.“Nothingmore,Iassureyou.”
Withanunwillinggruntthedoctormovedasideandthetwomenenteredthecabin.Dr.Bessner,growlingtohimself,pushedpastthem.
“Ireturninthreeminutes,”hesaid.“Andthen—positively—yougo!”
Theyheardhimstumpingdownthedeck.
SimonDoylelookedfromonetotheotheroftheminquiringly.
“Yes,”hesaid,“whatisit?”
“Averylittlething,”Racereplied.“Justnow,whenthestewardswerereportingtome,theymentionedthatSignorRichettihadbeenparticularlytroublesome.Yousaidthatthatdidn’tsurpriseyou,asyouknewhehadabadtemper,andthathehadbeenrudetoyourwifeoversomematterofatelegram.Nowcanyoutellmeabouttheincident?”
“Easily.ItwasatWadiHalfa.We’djustcomebackfromtheSecondCataract.Linnetthoughtshesawatelegramforherstickingupontheboard.She’dforgotten,yousee,thatshewasn’tcalledRidgewayanylonger,andRichettiandRidgewaydolookratheralikewhenwritteninanatrocioushandwriting.Soshetoreitopen,couldn’tmakeheadortailofit,andwaspuzzlingoveritwhenthisfellowRichetticamealong,fairlytoreitoutofherhandandgibberedwithrage.Shewentafterhimtoapologizeandhewasfrightfullyrudetoheraboutit.”
Racedrewadeepbreath.“Anddoyouknowatall,Mr.Doyle,whatwasinthattelegram?”
“Yes.Linnetreadpartofitoutaloud.Itsaid—”
Hepaused.Therewasacommotionoutside.Ahigh-pitchedvoicewasrapidlyapproaching.
“WhereareMonsieurPoirotandColonelRace?Imustseethemimmediately!Itismostimportant.Ihavevitalinformation.I—AretheywithMr.Doyle?”
Bessnerhadnotclosedthedoor.Onlythecurtainhungacrosstheopendoorway.Mrs.Otterbournesweptittoonesideandenteredlikeatornado.Herfacewassuffusedwithcolour,hergaitslightlyunsteady,hercommandofwordsnotquiteunderhercontrol.
“Mr.Doyle,”shesaiddramatically,“Iknowwhokilledyourwife!”
“What?”
Simonstaredather.Sodidtheothertwo.
Mrs.Otterbournesweptallthreeofthemwithatriumphantglance.Shewashappy—superblyhappy.
“Yes,”shesaid.“Mytheoriesarecompletelyvindicated.Thedeep,primeval,primordialurges—itmayappearimpossible—fantastic—butitisthetruth!”
Racesaidsharply:“DoIunderstandthatyouhaveevidenceinyourpossessiontoshowwhokilledMrs.Doyle?”
Mrs.Otterbournesatdowninachairandleanedforward,noddingherheadvigorously.
“CertainlyIhave.Youwillagree,willyounot,thatwhoeverkilledLouiseBourgetalsokilledLinnetDoyle—thatthetwocrimeswerecommittedbyoneandthesamehand?”
“Yes,yes,”saidSimonimpatiently.“Ofcourse.Thatstandstoreason.Goon.”
“Thenmyassertionholds.IknowwhokilledLouiseBourget;thereforeIknowwhokilledLinnetDoyle.”
“Youmean,youhaveatheoryastowhokilledLouiseBourget,”suggestedRacesceptically.
Mrs.Otterbourneturnedonhimlikeatiger.
“No,Ihaveexactknowledge.Isawthepersonwithmyowneyes.”
Simon,fevered,shoutedout:“ForGod’ssake,startatthebeginning.YouknowthepersonwhokilledLouiseBourget,yousay.”
Mrs.Otterbournenodded.
“Iwilltellyouexactlywhatoccurred.”
Yes,shewasveryhappy—nodoubtofit!Thiswashermoment,hertriumph!Whatofitifherbookswerefailingtosell,ifthestupidpublicthatoncehadboughtthemanddevouredthemvoraciouslynowturnedtonewerfavourites?SalomeOtterbournewouldonceagainbenotorious.Hernamewouldbeinallthepapers.Shewouldbeprincipalwitnessfortheprosecutionatthetrial.
Shetookadeepbreathandopenedhermouth.
“ItwaswhenIwentdowntolunch.Ihardlyfeltlikeeating—allthehorroroftherecenttragedy—Well,Ineedn’tgointothat.HalfwaydownIrememberedthatIhad—er—leftsomethinginmycabin.ItoldRosalietogoonwithoutme.Shedid.”
Mrs.Otterbournepausedaminute.
Thecurtainacrossthedoormovedslightlyasthoughliftedbythewind,butnoneofthethreemennoticedit.
“I—er—”Mrs.Otterbournepaused.Thinicetoskateoverhere,butitmustbedonesomehow.“I—er—hadanarrangementwithoneofthe—er—personneloftheship.Hewasto—er—getmesomethingIneeded,butIdidnotwishmydaughtertoknowofit.Sheisinclinedtobetiresomeincertainways—”
Nottoogood,this,butshecouldthinkofsomethingthatsoundedbetterbeforeitcametotellingthestoryincourt
Race’seyebrowsliftedashiseyesaskedaquestionofPoirot.
Poirotgaveaninfinitesimalnod.Hislipsformedtheword:“Drink.”
Thecurtainacrossthedoormovedagain.Betweenitandthedooritselfsomethingshowedwithafaintsteel-bluegleam.
Mrs.Otterbournecontinued:“ThearrangementwasthatIshouldgoroundtothesternonthedeckbelowthis,andthereIshouldfindthemanwaitingforme.AsIwentalongthedeckacabindooropenedandsomebodylookedout.Itwasthisgirl—LouiseBourget,orwhateverhernameis.Sheseemedtobeexpectingsomeone.Whenshesawitwasme,shelookeddisappointedandwentabruptlyinsideagain.Ididn’tthinkanythingofit,ofcourse.IwentalongjustasIhadsaidIwouldandgotthe—thestufffromtheman.Ipaidhimand—er—justhadawordwithhim.ThenIstartedback.JustasIcamearoundthecornerIsawsomeoneknockonthemaid’sdoorandgointothecabin.”
Racesaid,“Andthatpersonwas—?”
Bang!
Thenoiseoftheexplosionfilledthecabin.Therewasanacridsoursmellofsmoke.Mrs.Otterbourneturnedslowlysideways,asthoughinsupremeinquiry,thenherbodyslumpedforwardandshefelltothegroundwithacrash.Fromjustbehindherearthebloodflowedfromaroundneathole.
Therewasamoment’sstupefiedsilence.Thenboththeable-bodiedmenjumpedtotheirfeet.Thewoman’sbodyhinderedtheirmovementsalittle.RacebentoverherwhilePoirotmadeacatlikejumpforthedoorandthedeck.
Thedeckwasempty.OnthegroundjustinfrontofthesilllayabigColtrevolver.
Poirotglancedinbothdirections.Thedeckwasempty.Hethensprintedtowardsthestern.AsheroundedthecornerheranintoTimAllerton,whowascomingfulltiltfromtheoppositedirection.
“Whatthedevilwasthat?”criedTimbreathlessly.
Poirotsaidsharply:“Didyoumeetanyoneonyourwayhere?”
“Meetanyone?No.”
“Thencomewithme.”Hetooktheyoungmanbythearmandretracedhissteps.Alittlecrowdhadassembledbynow.Rosalie,Jacqueline,andCorneliahadrushedoutoftheircabins.Morepeoplewerecomingalongthedeckfromthesaloon—Ferguson,JimFanthorp,andMrs.Allerton.
Racestoodbytherevolver.PoirotturnedhisheadandsaidsharplytoTimAllerton:“Gotanyglovesinyourpocket?”
Timfumbled.
“Yes,Ihave.”
Poirotseizedthemfromhim,putthemon,andbenttoexaminetherevolver.Racedidthesame.Theotherswatchedbreathlessly.
Racesaid:“Hedidn’tgotheotherway.FanthorpandFergusonweresittingonthisdecklounge;they’dhaveseenhim.”
Poirotresponded,“AndMr.Allertonwouldhavemethimifhe’dgoneaft.”
Racesaid,pointingtotherevolver:“Ratherfancywe’veseenthisnotsoverylongago.Mustmakesure,though.”
HeknockedonthedoorofPennington’scabin.Therewasnoanswer.Thecabinwasempty.Racestrodetotheright-handdrawerofthechestandjerkeditopen.Therevolverwasgone.
“Settlesthat,”saidRace.“Nowthen,where’sPenningtonhimself?”
Theywentoutagainondeck.Mrs.Allertonhadjoinedthegroup.Poirotmovedswiftlyovertoher.
“Madame,takeMissOtterbournewithyouandlookafterher.Hermotherhasbeen”—heconsultedRacewithaneyeandRacenodded—“killed.”
Dr.Bessnercamebustlingalong.
“GottimHimmel!Whatistherenow?”
Theymadewayforhim.Raceindicatedthecabin.Ressnerwentinside.
“FindPennington,”saidRace.“Anyfingerprintsonthatrevolver?”
“None,”saidPoirot.
TheyfoundPenningtononthedeckbelow.Hewassittinginthelittledrawingroomwritingletters.Heliftedahandsome,clean-shavenface.
“Anythingnew?”heasked.
“Didn’tyouhearashot?”
“Why—nowyoumentionit—IbelieveIdidhearakindofabang.ButIneverdreamed—Who’sbeenshot?”
“Mrs.Otterbourne.”
“Mrs.Otterbourne?”Penningtonsoundedquiteastounded.“Well,youdosurpriseme.Mrs.Otterbourne.”Heshookhishead.“Ican’tseethatatall.”Heloweredhisvoice.“Strikesme,gentlemen,we’vegotahomicidalmaniacaboard.Weoughttoorganizeadefencesystem.”
“Mr.Pennington,”saidRace,“howlonghaveyoubeeninthisroom?”
“Why,letmesee.”Mr.Penningtongentlyrubbedhischin.“Ishouldsayamatteroftwentyminutesorso.”
“Andyouhaven’tleftit?”
“Whyno—certainlynot.”
Helookedinquiringlyatthetwomen.
“Yousee,Mr.Pennington,”saidRace,“Mrs.Otterbournewasshotwithyourrevolver.”
Twenty-Five
Mr.Penningtonwasshocked.Mr.Penningtoncouldhardlybelieveit.
“Why,gentlemen,”hesaid,“thisisaveryseriousmatter.Veryseriousindeed.”
“Extremelyseriousforyou,Mr.Pennington.”
“Forme?”Pennington’seyebrowsroseinstartledsurprise.“But,mydearsir,Iwassittingquietlywritinginherewhenthatshotwasfired.”
“Youhave,perhaps,awitnesstoprovethat?”
Penningtonshookhishead.
“Why,no—Iwouldn’tsaythat.Butit’sclearlyimpossiblethatIshouldhavegonetothedeckabove,shotthispoorwoman(andwhyshouldIshootheranyway?)andcomedownagainwithnooneseeingme.Therearealwaysplentyofpeopleonthedeckloungethistimeofday.”
“Howdoyouaccountforyourpistolbeingused?”
“Well—I’mafraidImaybetoblamethere.Quitesoonaftergettingaboardtherewasaconversationinthesaloononeevening,Iremember,aboutfirearms,andImentionedthenthatIalwayscarriedarevolverwithmewhenItravel.”
“Whowasthere?”
“Well,Ican’trememberexactly.Mostpeople,Ithink.Quiteacrowd,anyway.”
Heshookhisheadgently.
“Why,yes,”hesaid.“Iamcertainlytoblamethere.”
Hewenton:“FirstLinnet,thenLinnet’smaid,andnowMrs.Otterbourne.Thereseemsnoreasoninitall!”
“Therewasreason,”saidRace.
“Therewas?”
“Yes.Mrs.OtterbournewasonthepointoftellingusthatshehadseenacertainpersongointoLouise’scabin.Beforeshecouldnamethatpersonshewasshotdead.”
AndrewPenningtonpassedafinesilkhandkerchiefoverhisbrow.
“Allthisisterrible,”hemurmured.
Poirotsaid:“MonsieurPennington,Iwouldliketodiscusscertainaspectsofthecasewithyou.Willyoucometomycabininhalfanhour’stime?”
“Ishouldbedelighted.”
Penningtondidnotsounddelighted.Hedidnotlookdelightedeither.RaceandPoirotexchangedglancesandthenabruptlylefttheroom.
“Cunningolddevil,”saidRace,“buthe’safraid.Eh?”
Poirotnodded.“Yes,heisnothappy,ourMonsieurPennington.”
Astheyreachedthepromenadedeckagain,Mrs.Allertoncameoutofhercabinand,seeingPoirot,beckonedhimimperiously.
“Madame?”
“Thatpoorchild!Tellme,MonsieurPoirot,isthereadoublecabinsomewherethatIcouldsharewithher?Sheoughtn’ttogobacktotheoneshesharedwithhermother,andmineisonlyasingleone.”
“Thatcanbearranged,Madame.Itisverygoodofyou.”
“It’smeredecency.Besides,I’mveryfondofthegirl.I’vealwayslikedher.”
“Issheveryupset?”
“Terribly.Sheseemstohavebeenabsolutelydevotedtothatodiouswoman.Thatiswhatissopatheticaboutitall.Timsayshebelievesshedrank.Isthattrue?”
Poirotnodded.
“Oh,well,poorwoman,onemustnotjudgeher,Isuppose;butthatgirlmusthavehadaterriblelife.”
“Shedid,Madame.Sheisveryproudandshewasveryloyal.”
“Yes,Ilikethat—loyalty,Imean.It’soutoffashionnowadays.She’sanoddcharacter,thatgirl—proud,reserved,stubborn,andterriblywarm-heartedunderneath,Ifancy.”
“IseethatIhavegivenherintogoodhands,Madame.”
“Yes,don’tworry.I’lllookafterher.She’sinclinedtoclingtomeinthemostpatheticfashion.”
Mrs.Allertonwentbackintothecabin.Poirotreturnedtothesceneofthetragedy.
Corneliawasstillstandingonthedeck,hereyeswide.Shesaid:“Idon’tunderstand,MonsieurPoirot.Howdidthepersonwhoshothergetawaywithoutourseeinghim?”
“Yes,how?”echoedJacqueline.
“Ah,”saidPoirot,“itwasnotquitesuchadisappearingtrickasyouthink,Mademoiselle.Therewerethreedistinctwaysthemurderermighthavegone.”
Jacquelinelookedpuzzled.Shesaid,“Three?”
“Hemighthavegonetotheright,orhemighthavegonetotheleft,butIdon’tseeanyotherway,”puzzledCornelia.
Jacquelinetoofrowned.Thenherbrowcleared.
Shesaid:“Ofcourse.Hecouldmoveintwodirectionsononeplane,buthecouldgoatrightanglestothatplanetoo.Thatis,hecouldn’tgoupverywell,buthecouldgodown.”
Poirotsmiled.“Youhavebrains,Mademoiselle.”
Corneliasaid:“IknowI’mjustaplainmutt,butIstilldon’tsee.”
Jacquelinesaid:“MonsieurPoirotmeans,darling,thathecouldswinghimselfovertherailanddownontothedeckbelow.”
“My!”gaspedCornelia.“Ineverthoughtofthat.He’dhavetobemightyquickaboutit,though.Isupposehecouldjustdoit?”
“Hecoulddoiteasilyenough,”saidTimAllerton.“Remember,there’salwaysaminuteofshockafterathinglikethis.Onehearsashotandone’stooparalysedtomoveforasecondortwo.”
“Thatwasyourexperience,MonsieurAllerton?”
“Yes,itwas.Ijuststoodlikeadummyforquitefiveseconds.ThenIfairlysprintedroundthedeck.”
RacecameoutofBessner’scabinandsaidauthoritatively:“Wouldyoumindallclearingoff?Wewanttobringoutthebody.”
Everyonemovedawayobediently.Poirotwentwiththem.Corneliasaidtohimwithsadearnestness:“I’llneverforgetthistripaslongasIlive.Threedeaths…It’sjustlikelivinginanightmare.”
Fergusonoverheardher.Hesaidaggressively:“That’sbecauseyou’reover-civilized.YoushouldlookondeathastheOrientaldoes.It’samereincident—hardlynoticeable.”
“That’sallverywell,”Corneliasaid.
“They’renoteducated,poorcreatures.”
“No,andagoodthingtoo.Educationhasdevitalizedthewhiteraces.LookatAmerica—goesinforanorgyofculture.Simplydisgusting.”
“Ithinkyou’retalkingnonsense,”saidCornelia,flushing.“IattendlectureseverywinteronGreekArtandtheRenaissance,andIwenttosomeonfamousWomenofHistory.”
Mr.Fergusongroanedinagony:“GreekArt;Renaissance!FamousWomenofHistory!Itmakesmequitesicktohearyou.It’sthefuturethatmatters,woman,notthepast.Threewomenaredeadonthisboat.Well,whatofit?They’renoloss!LinnetDoyleandhermoney!TheFrenchmaid—adomesticparasite.Mrs.Otterbourne—auselessfoolofawoman.Doyouthinkanyonereallycareswhetherthey’redeadornot?Idon’t.Ithinkit’sadamnedgoodthing!”
“Thenyou’rewrong!”Corneliablazedoutathim.“Anditmakesmesicktohearyoutalkandtalk,asthoughnobodymatteredbutyou.Ididn’tlikeMrs.Otterbournemuch,butherdaughterwaseversofondofher,andshe’sallbrokenupoverhermother’sdeath.Idon’tknowmuchabouttheFrenchmaid,butIexpectsomebodywasfondofhersomewhere;andasforLinnetDoyle—well,apartfromeverythingelse,shewasjustlovely!Shewassobeautifulwhenshecameintoaroomthatitmadealumpcomeinyourthroat.I’mhomelymyself,andthatmakesmeappreciatebeautyalotmore.Shewasasbeautiful—justasawoman—asanythinginGreekArt.Andwhenanythingbeautiful’sdead,it’salosstotheworld.Sothere!”
Mr.Fergusonsteppedbackapace.Hecaughtholdofhishairwithbothhandsandtuggedatitvehemently.
“Igiveitup,”hesaid.“You’reunbelievable.Justhaven’tgotabitofnaturalfemalespiteinyouanywhere.”HeturnedtoPoirot.“Doyouknow,sir,thatCornelia’sfatherwaspracticallyruinedbyLinnetRidgeway’soldman?ButdoesthegirlgnashherteethwhensheseestheheiresssailingaboutinpearlsandParismodels?No,shejustbleatsout:‘Isn’tshebeautiful?’likeablessedBaaLamb.Idon’tbelievesheevenfeltsoreather.”
Corneliaflushed.“Idid—justforaminute.Poppakindofdiedofdiscouragement,youknow,becausehehadn’tmadegood.”
“Feltsoreforaminute!Iaskyou.”
Corneliaflashedroundonhim.
“Well,didn’tyousayjustnowitwasthefuturethatmattered,notthepast?Allthatwasinthepast,wasn’tit?It’sover.”
“Gotmethere,”saidFerguson.“CorneliaRobson,you’retheonlynicewomanI’veevercomeacross.Willyoumarryme?”
“Don’tbeabsurd.”
“It’sagenuineproposal—evenifitismadeinthepresenceofOldManSleuth.Anyway,you’reawitness,MonsieurPoirot.I’vedeliberatelyofferedmarriagetothisfemale—againstallmyprinciples,becauseIdon’tbelieveinlegalcontractsbetweenthesexes;butIdon’tthinkshe’dstandforanythingelse,somarriageitshallbe.Comeon,Cornelia,sayyes.”
“Ithinkyou’reutterlyridiculous,”saidCornelia,flushing.
“Whywon’tyoumarryme?”
“You’renotserious,”saidCornelia.
“Doyoumeannotseriousinproposingordoyoumeannotseriousincharacter?”
“Both,butIreallymeantcharacter.Youlaughatallsortsofseriousthings.EducationandCulture—and—andDeath.Youwouldn’tbereliable.”
Shebrokeoff,flushedagain,andhurriedalongintohercabin.
Fergusonstaredafterher.“Damnthegirl!Ibelieveshereallymeansit.Shewantsamantobereliable.Reliable—yegods!”Hepausedandthensaidcuriously:“What’sthematterwithyou,MonsieurPoirot?Youseemverydeepinthought.”
Poirotrousedhimselfwithastart.
“Ireflect,thatisall.Ireflect.”
“MeditationonDeath.Death,theRecurringDecimal,byHerculePoirot.Oneofhiswell-knownmonographs.”
“MonsieurFerguson,”saidPoirot,“youareaveryimpertinentyoungman.”
“Youmustexcuseme.Ilikeattackingestablishedinstitutions.”
“AndIamanestablishedinstitution?”
“Precisely.Whatdoyouthinkofthatgirl?”
“OfMissRobson?”
“Yes.”
“Ithinkthatshehasagreatdealofcharacter.”
“You’reright.She’sgotspirit.Shelooksmeek,butsheisn’t.She’sgotguts.She’s—oh,damnit,Iwantthatgirl.Itmightn’tbeabadmoveifItackledtheoldlady.IfIcouldoncegetherthoroughlyagainstme,itmightcutsomeicewithCornelia.”
Hewheeledandwentintotheobservationsaloon.MissVanSchuylerwasseatedinherusualcorner.Shelookedevenmorearrogantthanusual.Shewasknitting.Fergusonstrodeuptoher.HerculePoirot,enteringunobtrusively,tookaseatadiscreetdistanceawayandappearedtobeabsorbedinamagazine.
“Goodafternoon,MissVanSchuyler.”
MissVanSchuylerraisedhereyesforabaresecond,droppedthemagainandmurmuredfrigidly,“Er—goodafternoon.”
“Lookhere,MissVanSchuyler,Iwanttotalktoyouaboutsomethingprettyimportant.It’sjustthis.Iwanttomarryyourcousin.”
MissVanSchuyler’sballofwooldroppedontothegroundandranwildlyacrossthesaloon.
Shesaidinavenomoustone:“Youmustbeoutofyoursenses,youngman.”
“Notatall.I’mdeterminedtomarryher.I’veaskedhertomarryme!”
MissVanSchuylersurveyedhimcoldly,withthekindofspeculativeinterestshemighthaveaccordedtoanoddsortofbeetle.
“Indeed?AndIpresumeshesentyouaboutyourbusiness.”
“Sherefusedme.”
“Naturally.”
“Not‘naturally’atall.I’mgoingtogoonaskinghertillsheagrees.”
“Icanassureyou,sir,thatIshalltakestepstoseethatmyyoungcousinisnotsubjectedtoanysuchpersecution,”saidMissVanSchuylerinabitingtone.
“Whathaveyougotagainstme?”
MissVanSchuylermerelyraisedhereyebrowsandgaveavehementtugtoherwool,preparatorytoregainingitandclosingtheinterview.
“Comenow,”persistedMr.Ferguson,“whathaveyougotagainstme?”
“Ishouldthinkthatwasquiteobvious,Mr—er—Idon’tknowyourname.”
“Ferguson.”
“Mr.Ferguson.”MissVanSchuylerutteredthenamewithdefinitedistaste.“Anysuchideaisquiteoutofthequestion.”
“Youmean,”saidFerguson,“thatI’mnotgoodenoughforher?”
“Ishouldthinkthatwouldhavebeenobvioustoyou.”
“InwhatwayamInotgoodenough?”
MissVanSchuyleragaindidnotanswer.
“I’vegottwolegs,twoarms,goodhealth,andquitereasonablebrains.What’swrongwiththat?”
“Thereissuchathingassocialposition,Mr.Ferguson.”
“Socialpositionisbunk!”
ThedoorswungopenandCorneliacamein.ShestoppeddeadonseeingherredoubtableCousinMarieinconversationwithherwould-besuitor.
TheoutrageousMr.Fergusonturnedhishead,grinnedbroadlyandcalledout:“Comealong,Cornelia.I’maskingforyourhandinmarriageinthebestconventionalmanner.”
“Cornelia,”saidMissVanSchuyler,andhervoicewastrulyawfulinquality,“haveyouencouragedthisyoungman?”
“I—no,ofcoursenot—atleast—notexactly—Imean—”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Shehasn’tencouragedme,”saidMr.Fergusonhelpfully.“I’vedoneitall.Shehasn’tactuallypushedmeintheface,becauseshe’sgottookindaheart.Cornelia,yourcousinsaysI’mnotgoodenoughforyou.That,ofcourse,istrue,butnotinthewayshemeansit.Mymoralnaturecertainlydoesn’tequalyours,butherpointisthatI’mhopelesslybelowyousocially.”
“ThatIthink,isequallyobvioustoCornelia,”saidMissVanSchuyler.
“Isit?”Mr.Fergusonlookedathersearchingly.“Isthatwhyyouwon’tmarryme?”
“No,itisn’t.”Corneliaflushed.“If—ifIlikedyou,I’dmarryyounomatterwhoyouwere.”
“Butyoudon’tlikeme?”
“I—Ithinkyou’rejustoutrageous.Thewayyousaythings…Thethingsyousay…I—I’venevermetanyonetheleastlikeyou.I—”
Tearsthreatenedtoovercomeher.Sherushedfromtheroom.
“Onthewhole,”saidMr.Ferguson,“that’snottoobadforastart.”Heleanedbackinhischair,gazedattheceiling,whistled,crossedhisdisreputablekneesandremarked:“I’llbecallingyouCousinyet.”
MissVanSchuylertrembledwithrage.“Leavethisroomatonce,sir,orI’llringforthesteward.”
“I’vepaidformyticket,”saidMr.Ferguson.“Theycan’tpossiblyturnmeoutofthepubliclounge.ButI’llhumouryou.”Hesangsoftly,“Yohoho,andabottleofrum.”Rising,hesaunterednonchalantlytothedoorandpassedout.
ChokingwithangerMissVanSchuylerstruggledtoherfeet.Poirot,discreetlyemergingfromretirementbehindhismagazine,sprangupandretrievedtheballofwool.
“Thankyou,MonsieurPoirot.IfyouwouldsendMissBowerstome—Ifeelquiteupset—thatinsolentyoungman.”
“Rathereccentric,I’mafraid,”saidPoirot.“Mostofthatfamilyare.Spoilt,ofcourse.Alwaysinclinedtotiltatwindmills.”Headdedcarelessly,“Yourecognizedhim,Isuppose?”
“Recognizedhim?”
“CallshimselfFergusonandwon’tusehistitlebecauseofhisadvancedideas.”
“Histitle?”MissVanSchuyler’stonewassharp.
“Yes,that’syoungLordDawlish.Rollinginmoney,ofcourse,buthebecameacommunistwhenhewasatOxford.”
MissVanSchuyler,herfaceabattlegroundofcontradictoryemotions,said:“Howlonghaveyouknownthis,MonsieurPoirot?”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.
“Therewasapictureinoneofthesepapers—Inoticedtheresemblance.ThenIfoundasignetringwithacoatofarmsonit.Oh,there’snodoubtaboutit,Iassureyou.”
HequiteenjoyedreadingtheconflictingexpressionsthatsucceededeachotheronMissVanSchuyler’sface.Finally,withagraciousinclinationofthehead,shesaid,“Iamverymuchobligedtoyou,MonsieurPoirot.”
Poirotlookedafterherandsmiledasshewentoutofthesaloon.Thenhesatdownandhisfacegrewgraveoncemore.Hewasfollowingoutatrainofthoughtinhismind.Fromtimetotimehenoddedhishead.
“Maisoui,”hesaidatlast.“Itallfitsin.”
Twenty-Six
Racefoundhimstillsittingthere.
“Well,Poirot,whataboutit?Pennington’sdueintenminutes.I’mleavingthisinyourhands.”
Poirotrosequicklytohisfeet.“First,getholdofyoungFanthorp.”
“Fanthorp?”Racelookedsurprised.
“Yes.Bringhimtomycabin.”
Racenoddedandwentoff.Poirotwentalongtohiscabin.RacearrivedwithyoungFanthorpaminuteortwoafterward.
Poirotindicatedchairsandofferedcigarettes.
“Now,MonsieurFanthorp,”hesaid,“toourbusiness!IperceivethatyouwearthesametiethatmyfriendHastingswears.”
JimFanthorplookeddownathisneckwearwithsomebewilderment.
“It’sanO.E.tie,”hesaid.
“Exactly.Youmustunderstandthat,thoughIamaforeigner,IknowsomethingoftheEnglishpointofview.Iknow,forinstance,thatthereare‘thingswhicharedone’and‘thingswhicharenotdone.’”
JimFanthorpgrinned.
“Wedon’tsaythatsortofthingmuchnowadays,sir.”
“Perhapsnot,butthecustom,itstillremains.TheOldSchoolTieistheOldSchoolTie,andtherearecertainthings(Iknowthisfromexperience)thattheOldSchoolTiedoesnotdo!Oneofthosethings,MonsieurFanthorp,istobuttintoaprivateconversationunaskedwhenonedoesnotknowthepeoplewhoareconductingit.”
Fanthorpstared.
Poirotwenton:“Buttheotherday,MonsieurFanthorp,thatisexactlywhatyoudiddo.Certainpersonswerequietlytransactingsomeprivatebusinessintheobservationsaloon.Youstrollednearthem,obviouslyinordertooverhearwhatitwasthatwasinprogress,andpresentlyyouactuallyturnedroundandcongratulatedalady—MadameSimonDoyle—onthesoundnessofherbusinessmethods.”
JimFanthorp’sfacegotveryred.Poirotswepton,notwaitingforacomment.
“Nowthat,MonsieurFanthorp,wasnotatallthebehaviourofonewhowearsatiesimilartothatwornbymyfriendHastings!Hastingsisalldelicacy,woulddieofshamebeforehedidsuchathing!Therefore,takingthatactionofyoursinconjunctionwiththefactthatyouareaveryyoungmantobeabletoaffordanexpensiveholiday,thatyouareamemberofacountrysolicitor’sfirm,andthereforeprobablynotextravagantlywelloff,andthatyoushownosignsofrecentillnesssuchasmightnecessitateaprolongedvisitabroad,Iaskmyself—andamnowaskingyou—whatisthereasonforyourpresenceonthisboat?”
JimFanthorpjerkedhisheadback.
“Ideclinetogiveyouanyinformationwhatever,MonsieurPoirot.Ireallythinkyoumustbemad.”
“Iamnotmad.Iamvery,verysane.Whereisyourfirm?InNorthampton;thatisnotveryfarfromWodeHall.Whatconversationdidyoutrytooverhear?Oneconcerninglegaldocuments.Whatwastheobjectofyourremark—aremarkwhichyouutteredwithobviousembarrassmentandmalaise?YourobjectwastopreventMadameDoylefromsigninganydocumentunread.”
Hepaused.
“Onthisboatwehavehadamurder,andfollowingthatmurdertwoothermurdersinrapidsuccession.IfIfurthergiveyoutheinformationthattheweaponwhichkilledMadameOtterbournewasarevolverownedbyMonsieurAndrewPennington,thenperhapsyouwillrealizethatitisactuallyyourdutytotellusallyoucan.”
JimFanthorpwassilentforsomeminutes.Atlasthesaid:“Youhaveratheranoddwayofgoingaboutthings,MonsieurPoirot,butIappreciatethepointsyouhavemade.ThetroubleisthatIhavenoexactinformationtolaybeforeyou.”
“Youmeanthatitisacase,merely,ofsuspicion.”
“Yes.”
“Andthereforeyouthinkitinjudicioustospeak?Thatmaybetrue,legallyspeaking.Butthisisnotacourtoflaw.ColonelRaceandmyselfareendeavouringtotrackdownamurderer.Anythingthatcanhelpustodosomaybevaluable.”
AgainJimFanthorpreflected.Thenhesaid:“Verywell.Whatisityouwanttoknow?”
“Whydidyoucomeonthistrip?”
“Myuncle,Mr.Carmichael,Mrs.Doyle’sEnglishsolicitor,sentme.Hehandledagoodmanyofheraffairs.Inthisway,hewasoftenincorrespondencewithMr.AndrewPennington,whowasMrs.Doyle’sAmericantrustee.Severalsmallincidents(Icannotenumeratethemall)mademyunclesuspiciousthatallwasnotquiteasitshouldbe.”
“Inplainlanguage,”saidRace,“yourunclesuspectedthatPenningtonwasacrook?”
JimFanthorpnodded,afaintsmileonhisface.
“YouputitrathermorebluntlythanIshould,butthemainideaiscorrect.VariousexcusesmadebyPennington,certainplausibleexplanationsofthedisposaloffunds,arousedmyuncle’sdistrust.
“Whilethesesuspicionsofhiswerestillnebulous,MissRidgewaymarriedunexpectedlyandwentoffonherhoneymoontoEgypt.Hermarriagerelievedmyuncle’smind,asheknewthatonherreturntoEnglandtheestatewouldhavetobeformallysettledandhandedover.
“However,inalettershewrotehimfromCairo,shementionedcasuallythatshehadunexpectedlyrunacrossAndrewPennington.Myuncle’ssuspicionsbecameacute.HefeltsurethatPennington,perhapsbynowinadesperateposition,wasgoingtotryandobtainsignaturesfromherwhichwouldcoverhisowndefalcations.Sincemyunclehadnodefiniteevidencetolaybeforeher,hewasinamostdifficultposition.Theonlythinghecouldthinkofwastosendmeouthere,travellingbyair,withinstructiontodiscoverwhatwasinthewind.Iwastokeepmyeyesopenandactsummarilyifnecessary—amostunpleasantmission,Icanassureyou.Asamatteroffact,ontheoccasionyoumentionIhadtobehavemoreorlessasacad!Itwasawkward,butonthewholeIwassatisfiedwiththeresult.”
“YoumeanyouputMadameDoyleonherguard?”askedRace.
“Notsomuchthat,butIthinkIputthewindupPennington.Ifeltconvincedhewouldn’ttryanymorefunnybusinessforsometime,andbythenIhopedtohavegotintimateenoughwithMr.andMrs.Doyletoconveysomekindofawarning.AsamatteroffactIhopedtodosothroughDoyle.Mrs.DoylewassoattachedtoMr.Penningtonthatitwouldhavebeenabitawkwardtosuggestthingstoherabouthim.Itwouldhavebeeneasierformetoapproachthehusband.”
Racenodded.
Poirotasked:“Willyougivemeacandidopinionononepoint,MonsieurFanthorp?Ifyouwereengagedinputtingaswindleover,wouldyouchooseMadameDoyleorMonsieurDoyleasavictim?”
Fanthorpsmiledfaintly.
“Mr.Doyle,everytime.LinnetDoylewasveryshrewdinbusinessmatters.Herhusband,Ishouldfancy,isoneofthosetrustfulfellowswhoknownothingofbusinessandarealwaysreadyto‘signonthedottedline’ashehimselfputit.”
“Iagree,”saidPoirot.HelookedatRace.“Andthere’syourmotive.”
JimFanthorpsaid:“Butthisisallpureconjecture.Itisn’tevidence.”
Poirotreplied,easily:“Ah,bah!wewillgetevidence!”
“How?”
“PossiblyfromMr.Penningtonhimself.”
Fanthorplookeddoubtful.
“Iwonder.Iverymuchwonder.”
Raceglancedathiswatch.“He’saboutduenow.”
JimFanthorpwasquicktotakethehint.Heleftthem.
TwominuteslaterAndrewPenningtonmadehisappearance.Hismannerwasallsmilingurbanity.Onlythetautlineofhisjawandthewarinessofhiseyesbetrayedthefactthatathoroughlyexperiencedfighterwasonhisguard.
“Well,gentlemen,”hesaid,“hereIam.”
Hesatdownandlookedattheminquiringly.
“Weaskedyoutocomehere,MonsieurPennington,”beganPoirot,“becauseitisfairlyobviousthatyouhaveaveryspecialandimmediateinterestinthecase.”
Penningtonraisedhiseyebrowsslightly
“Isthatso?”
Poirotsaidgently:“Surely.YouhaveknownLinnetRidgeway,Iunderstand,sinceshewasquiteachild.”
“Oh!that—”Hisfacealtered,becamelessalert.“Ibegpardon,Ididn’tquitegetyou.Yes,asItoldyouthismorning,I’veknownLinnetsinceshewasacutelittlethinginpinafores.”
“Youwereontermsofcloseintimacywithherfather?”
“That’sso.MelhuishRidgewayandIwereveryclose—veryclose.”
“Youweresointimatelyassociatedthatonhisdeathheappointedyoubusinessguardiantohisdaughterandtrusteetothevastfortunesheinherited?”
“Why,roughly,thatisso.”Thewarinesswasbackagain.Thenotewasmorecautious.“Iwasnottheonlytrustee,naturally;otherswereassociatedwithme.”
“Whohavesincedied?”
“Twoofthemaredead.Theother,Mr.SterndaleRockford,isalive.”
“Yourpartner?”
“Yes.”
“MademoiselleRidgeway,Iunderstand,wasnotyetofagewhenshemarried?”
“Shewouldhavebeentwenty-onenextJuly.”
“Andinthenormalcourseofeventsshewouldhavecomeintocontrolofherfortunethen?”
“Yes.”
“Buthermarriageprecipitatedmatters?”
Pennington’sjawhardened.Heshotouthischinatthemaggressively.
“You’llpardonme,gentlemen,butwhatexactbusinessisallthisofyours?”
“Ifyoudislikeansweringthequestion—”
“There’snodislikeaboutit.Idon’tmindwhatyouaskme.ButIdon’tseetherelevanceofallthis.”
“Oh,butsurely,MonsieurPennington”—Poirotleanedforward,hiseyesgreenandcatlike—“thereisthequestionofmotive.Inconsideringthat,financialconsiderationsmustalwaysbetakenintoaccount.”
Penningtonsaidsullenly:“ByRidgeway’swill,Linnetgotcontrolofherdoughwhenshewastwenty-oneorwhenshemarried.”
“Noconditionsofanykind?”
“Noconditions.”
“Anditisamatter,Iamcrediblyassured,ofmillions.”
“Millionsitis.”
Poirotsaidsoftly:“Yourresponsibility,Mr.Pennington,andthatofyourpartner,hasbeenaverygraveone.”
Penningtonrepliedcurtly:“We’reusedtoresponsibility.Doesn’tworryusany.”
“Iwonder.”
Somethinginhistoneflickedtheothermanontheraw.Heaskedangrily:“Whatthedevildoyoumean?”
Poirotrepliedwithanairofengagingfrankness:“Iwaswondering,Mr.Pennington,whetherLinnetRidgeway’ssuddenmarriagecausedany—consternation,inyouroffice?”
“Consternation?”
“ThatwasthewordIused.”
“Whatthehellareyoudrivingat?”
“Somethingquitesimple.AreLinnetDoyle’saffairsintheperfectordertheyshouldbe?”
Penningtonrosetohisfeet.
“That’senough.I’mthrough.”Hemadeforthedoor.
“Butyouwillanswermyquestionfirst?”
Penningtonsnapped:“They’reinperfectorder.”
“YouwerenotsoalarmedwhenthenewsofLinnetRidgeway’smarriagereachedyouthatyourushedovertoEuropebythefirstboatandstagedanapparentlyfortuitousmeetinginEgypt?”
Penningtoncamebacktowardsthem.Hehadhimselfundercontroloncemore.
“Whatyouaresayingisabsolutebalderdash!Ididn’tevenknowthatLinnetwasmarriedtillImetherinCairo.Iwasutterlyastonished.HerlettermusthavemissedmebyadayinNewYork.ItwasforwardedandIgotitaboutaweeklater.”
“YoucameoverbytheCarmanic,Ithinkyousaid.”
“That’sright.”
“AndtheletterreachedNewYorkaftertheCarmanicsailed?”
“HowmanytimeshaveIgottorepeatit?”
“Itisstrange,”saidPoirot.
“What’sstrange?”
“ThatonyourluggagetherearenolabelsoftheCarmanic.TheonlyrecentlabelsoftransatlanticsailingaretheNormandie.TheNormandie,Iremember,sailedtwodaysaftertheCarmanic.”
Foramomenttheotherwasataloss.Hiseyeswavered.
ColonelRaceweighedinwithtellingeffect.
“Comenow,Mr.Pennington,”hesaid.“We’veseveralreasonsforbelievingthatyoucameoverontheNormandieandnotbytheCarmanic,asyousaid.Inthatcase,youreceivedMrs.Doyle’sletterbeforeyouleftNewYork.It’snogooddenyingit,forit’stheeasiestthingintheworldtocheckupthesteamshipcompanies.”
AndrewPenningtonfeltabsentmindedlyforachairandsatdown.Hisfacewasimpassive—apokerface.Behindthatmaskhisagilebrainlookedaheadtothenextmove.
“I’llhavetohandittoyou,gentlemen.You’vebeentoosmartforme.ButIhadmyreasonsforactingasIdid.”
“Nodoubt.”Race’stonewascurt.
“IfIgivethemtoyou,itmustbeunderstoodIdosoinconfidence.”
“Ithinkyoucantrustustobehavefittingly.NaturallyIcannotgiveassurancesblindly.”
“Well—”Penningtonsighed.“I’llcomeclean.TherewassomemonkeybusinessgoingoninEngland.Itworriedme.Icouldn’tdomuchaboutitbyletter.Theonlythingwastocomeoverandseeformyself.”
“Whatdoyoumeanbymonkeybusiness?”
“I’dgoodreasontobelievethatLinnetwasbeingswindled.”
“Bywhom?”
“HerBritishlawyer.Nowthat’snotthekindofaccusationyoucanflingaroundanyhow.Imadeupmymindtocomeoverrightawayandseeintomattersmyself.”
“Thatdoesgreatcredittoyourvigilance,Iamsure.Butwhythelittledeceptionaboutnothavingreceivedtheletter?”
“Well,Iaskyou—”Penningtonspreadouthishands.“Youcan’tbuttinonahoneymooncouplewithoutmoreorlesscomingdowntobrasstacksandgivingyourreasons.Ithoughtitbesttomakethemeetingaccidental.Besides,Ididn’tknowanythingaboutthehusband.HemighthavebeenmixedupintheracketforallIknew.”
“Infactallyouractionswereactuatedbypuredisinterestedness,”saidColonelRacedryly.
“You’vesaidit,Colonel.”
Therewasapause.RaceglancedatPoirot.Thelittlemanleantforward.
“MonsieurPennington,wedonotbelieveawordofyourstory.”
“Thehellyoudon’t!Andwhatthehelldoyoubelieve?”
“WebelievethatLinnetRidgeway’sunexpectedmarriageputyouinafinancialquandary.Thatyoucameoverposthastetotryandfindsomewayoutofthemessyouwerein—thatistosay,somewayofgainingtime.That,withthatendinview,youendeavouredtoobtainMadameDoyle’ssignaturetocertaindocumentsandfailed.ThatonthejourneyuptheNile,whenwalkingalongtheclifftopatAbuSimbel,youdislodgedaboulderwhichfellandonlyverynarrowlymisseditsobject—”
“You’recrazy.”
“Webelievethatthesamekindofcircumstancesoccurredonthereturnjourney.Thatistosay,anopportunitypresenteditselfofputtingMadameDoyleoutofthewayatamomentwhenherdeathwouldbealmostcertainlyascribedtotheactionofanotherperson.Wenotonlybelieve,butknow,thatitwasyourrevolverwhichkilledawomanwhowasabouttorevealtousthenameofthepersonwhoshehadreasontobelievekilledbothLinnetDoyleandthemaidLouise—”
“Hell!”TheforcibleejaculationbrokeforthandinterruptedPoirot’sstreamofeloquence.“Whatareyougettingat?Areyoucrazy?WhatmotivehadItokillLinnet?Iwouldn’tgethermoney;thatgoestoherhusband.Whydon’tyoupickonhim?He’stheonetobenefit—notme.”
Racesaidcoldly:“Doyleneverlefttheloungeonthenightofthetragedytillhewasshotatandwoundedintheleg.Theimpossibilityofhiswalkingastepafterthatisattestedtobyadoctorandanurse—bothindependentandreliablewitnesses.SimonDoylecouldnothavekilledhiswife.HecouldnothavekilledLouiseBourget.HemostdefinitelydidnotkillMrs.Otterbourne.Youknowthataswellaswedo.”
“Iknowhedidn’tkillher.”Penningtonsoundedalittlecalmer.“AllIsayis,whypickonmewhenIdon’tbenefitbyherdeath?”
“But,mydearsir,”Poirot’svoicecamesoftasapurringcat,“thatisratheramatterofopinion.MadameDoylewasakeenwomanofbusiness,fullyconversantwithherownaffairsandveryquicktospotanyirregularity.Assoonasshetookupthecontrolofherproperty,whichshewouldhavedoneonherreturntoEngland,hersuspicionswereboundtobearoused.Butnowthatsheisdeadandthatherhusband,asyouhavejustpointedout,inherits,thewholethingisdifferent.SimonDoyleknowsnothingwhateverofhiswife’saffairsexceptthatshewasarichwoman.Heisofasimple,trustingdisposition.Youwillfinditeasytoplacecomplicatedstatementsbeforehim,toinvolvetherealissueinanetoffigures,andtodelaysettlementwithpleasoflegalformalitiesandtherecentdepression.Ithinkthatitmakesaveryconsiderabledifferencetoyouwhetheryoudealwiththehusbandorthewife.”
Penningtonshruggedhisshoulders.
“Yourideasare—fantastic.”
“Timewillshow.”
“Whatdidyousay?”
“Isaid,‘Timewillshow!’Thisisamatterofthreedeaths—threemurders.ThelawwilldemandthemostsearchinginvestigationintotheconditionofMadameDoyle’sestate.”
Hesawthesuddensagintheother’sshouldersandknewthathehadwon.JimFanthorp’ssuspicionswerewellfounded.
Poirotwenton:“You’veplayed—andlost.Uselesstogoonbluffing.”
“Youdon’tunderstand,”Penningtonmuttered.“It’sallsquareenoughreally.It’sbeenthisdamnedslump—WallStreet’sbeencrazy.ButI’dstagedacomeback.WithluckeverythingwillbeO.K.bythemiddleofJune.”
Withshakinghandshetookacigarette,triedtolightit,failed.
“Isuppose,”musedPoirot,“thattheboulderwasasuddentemptation.Youthoughtnobodysawyou.”
“Thatwasanaccident.Iswearitwasanaccident!”Themanleantforward,hisfaceworking,hiseyesterrified.“Istumbledandfellagainstit.Iswearitwasanaccident….”
Thetwomensaidnothing.
Penningtonsuddenlypulledhimselftogether.Hewasstillawreckofaman,buthisfightingspirithadreturnedinacertainmeasure.Hemovedtowardsthedoor.
“Youcan’tpinthatonme,gentlemen.Itwasanaccident.Anditwasn’tIwhoshother.D’youhear?Youcan’tpinthatonmeeither—andyouneverwill.”
Hewentout.
Twenty-Seven
Asthedoorclosedbehindhim,Racegaveadeepsigh.
“WegotmorethanIthoughtweshould.Admissionoffraud.Admissionofattemptedmurder.Furtherthanthatit’simpossibletogo.Amanwillconfess,moreorless,toattemptedmurder,butyouwon’tgethimtoconfesstotherealthing.”
“Sometimesitcanbedone,”saidPoirot.Hiseyesweredreamy—catlike.
Racelookedathimcuriously.
“Gotaplan?”
Poirotnodded.Thenhesaid,tickingofftheitemsonhisfingers:“ThegardenatAssuan.Mr.Allerton’sstatement.Thetwobottlesofnailpolish.Mybottleofwine.Thevelvetstole.Thestainedhandkerchief.Thepistolthatwasleftonthesceneofthecrime.ThedeathofLouise.ThedeathofMadameOtterbourne.Yes,it’sallthere.Penningtondidn’tdoit,Race!”
“What?”Racewasstartled.
“Penningtondidn’tdoit.Hehadthemotive,yes.Hehadthewilltodoit,yes.Hegotasfarasattemptingtodoit.Maisc’esttout.Forthiscrime,somethingwaswantedthatPenningtonhadn’tgot!Thisisacrimethatneededaudacity,swiftandfaultlessexecution,courage,indifferencetodanger,andaresourceful,calculatingbrain.Penningtonhasn’tgotthoseattributes.Hecouldn’tdoacrimeunlessheknewittobesafe.Thiscrimewasn’tsafe!Ithungonarazoredge.Itneededboldness.Penningtonisn’tbold.He’sonlyastute.”
Racelookedathimwiththerespectoneablemangivestoanother.
“You’vegotitallwelltaped,”hesaid.
“Ithinkso,yes.Thereareoneortwothings—thattelegramforinstance,thatLinnetDoyleread.Ishouldliketogetthatclearedup.”
“ByJove,weforgottoaskDoyle.HewastellinguswhenpooroldMaOtterbournecamealong.We’llaskhimagain.”
“Presently.First,IhavesomeoneelsetowhomIwishtospeak.”
“Who’sthat?”
“TimAllerton.”
Raceraisedhiseyebrows.
“Allerton?Well,we’llgethimhere.”
Hepressedabellandsentthestewardwithamessage.
TimAllertonenteredwithaquestioninglook.
“Stewardsaidyouwantedtoseeme?”
“Thatisright,MonsieurAllerton.Sitdown.”
Timsat.Hisfacewasattentivebutveryslightlybored.
“AnythingIcando?”Histonewaspolitebutnotenthusiastic.
Poirotsaid:“Inasense,perhaps.WhatIreallyrequireisforyoutolisten.”
Tim’seyebrowsroseinpolitesurprise
“Certainly.I’mtheworld’sbestlistener.Canbereliedontosay‘Ooer!’attherightmoments.”
“Thatisverysatisfactory.‘Oo-er!’willbeveryexpressive.Ehbien,letuscommence.WhenImetyouandyourmotheratAssuan,MonsieurAllerton,Iwasattractedtoyourcompanyverystrongly.Tobeginwith,IthoughtyourmotherwasoneofthemostcharmingpeopleIhadevermet—”
Thewearyfaceflickeredforamoment;ashadeofexpressioncameintoit.
“Sheis—unique,”hesaid.
“Butthesecondthingthatinterestedmewasyourmentionofacertainlady.”
“Really?”
“Yes,aMademoiselleJoannaSouthwood.Yousee,Ihadrecentlybeenhearingthatname.”
Hepausedandwenton:“ForthelastthreeyearstherehavebeencertainjewelrobberiesthathavebeenworryingScotlandYardagooddeal.TheyarewhatmaybedescribedasSocietyrobberies.Themethodisusuallythesame—thesubstitutionofanimitationpieceofjewelleryforanoriginal.Myfriend,ChiefInspectorJapp,cametotheconclusionthattherobberieswerenottheworkofoneperson,butoftwopeopleworkinginwitheachotherverycleverly.Hewasconvinced,fromtheconsiderableinsideknowledgedisplayed,thattherobberiesweretheworkofpeopleinagoodsocialposition.AndfinallyhisattentionbecamerivetedonMademoiselleJoannaSouthwood.
“Everyoneofthevictimshadbeeneitherafriendoracquaintanceofhers,andineachcaseshehadeitherhandledorbeenlentthepieceofjewelleryinquestion.Also,herstyleoflivingwasfarinexcessofherincome.Ontheotherhanditwasquiteclearthattheactualrobbery—thatistosaythesubstitution—hadnotbeenaccomplishedbyher.InsomecasesshehadbeenoutofEnglandduringtheperiodwhenthejewellerymusthavebeenreplaced.
“SograduallyalittlepicturegrewupinChiefInspectorJapp’smind.MademoiselleSouthwoodwasatonetimeassociatedwithaGuildofModernJewellery.Hesuspectedthatshehandledthejewelsinquestion,madeaccuratedrawingsofthem,gotthemcopiedbysomehumblebutdishonestworkingjewellerandthatthethirdpartoftheoperationwasthesuccessfulsubstitutionbyanotherperson—somebodywhocouldhavebeenprovednevertohavehandledthejewelsandnevertohavehadanythingtodowithcopiesorimitationsofpreciousstones.OftheidentityofthisotherpersonJappwasignorant.
“Certainthingsthatfellfromyouinconversationinterestedme.AringthatdisappearedwhenyouwereinMajorca,thefactthatyouhadbeeninahousepartywhereoneofthesefakesubstitutionshadoccurred,yourcloseassociationwithMademoiselleSouthwood.Therewasalsothefactthatyouobviouslyresentedmypresenceandtriedtogetyourmothertobelessfriendlytowardsme.Thatmight,ofcourse,havebeenjustpersonaldislike,butIthoughtnot.Youweretooanxioustotryandhideyourdistasteunderagenialmanner.
“Ehbien!afterthemurderofLinnetDoyle,itisdiscoveredthatherpearlsaremissing.Youcomprehend,atonceIthinkofyou!ButIamnotquitesatisfied.Forifyouareworking,asIsuspect,withMademoiselleSouthwood(whowasanintimatefriendofMadameDoyle’s),thensubstitutionwouldbethemethodemployed—notbarefacedtheft.Butthen,thepearlsquiteunexpectedlyarereturned,andwhatdoIdiscover?Thattheyarenotgenuine,butimitation.
“Iknowthenwhotherealthiefis.Itwastheimitationstringwhichwasstolenandreturned—animitationwhichyouhadpreviouslysubstitutedfortherealnecklace.”
Helookedattheyoungmaninfrontofhim.Timwaswhiteunderhistan.HewasnotsogoodafighterasPennington;hisstaminawasbad.Hesaid,withanefforttosustainhismockingmanner:“Indeed?Andifso,whatdidIdowiththem?”
“ThatIknowalso.”
Theyoungman’sfacechanged—brokeup
Poirotwentonslowly:“Thereisonlyoneplacewheretheycanbe.Ihavereflected,andmyreasontellsmethatthatisso.Thosepearls,MonsieurAllerton,areconcealedinarosarythathangsinyourcabin.Thebeadsofitareveryelaboratelycarved.Ithinkyouhaditmadespecially.Thosebeadsunscrew,thoughyouwouldneverthinksotolookatthem.Insideeachisapearl,stuckwithSeccotine.Mostpolicesearchersrespectreligioussymbolsunlessthereissomethingobviouslyqueeraboutthem.Youcountedonthat.IendeavouredtofindouthowMademoiselleSouthwoodsenttheimitationnecklaceouttoyou.Shemusthavedoneso,sinceyoucameherefromMajorcaonhearingthatMadameDoylewouldbehereforherhoneymoon.Mytheoryisthatitwassentinabook—asquareholebeingcutoutofthepagesinthemiddle.Abookgoeswiththeendsopenandispracticallyneveropenedinthepost.”
Therewasapause—alongpause.ThenTimsaidquietly:“Youwin!It’sbeenagoodgame,butit’soveratlast.There’snothingforitnow,Isuppose,buttotakemymedicine.”
Poirotnoddedgently.
“Doyourealizethatyouwereseenthatnight?”
“Seen?”Timstarted.
“Yes,onthenightthatLinnetDoyledied,someonesawyouleavehercabinjustafteroneinthemorning.”
Timsaid:“Lookhere—youaren’tthinking…itwasn’tIwhokilledher!I’llswearthat!I’vebeeninthemostawfulstew.Tohavechosenthatnightofallothers…God,it’sbeenawful!”
Poirotsaid:“Yes,youmusthavehaduneasymoments.But,nowthatthetruthhascomeout,youmaybeabletohelpus.WasMadameDoylealiveordeadwhenyoustolethepearls?”
“Idon’tknow,”Timsaidhoarsely.“HonesttoGod,MonsieurPoirot,Idon’tknow!I’dfoundoutwheresheputthematnight—onthelittletablebythebed.Icreptin,feltverysoftlyonthetableandgrabbed’em,putdowntheothersandcreptoutagain.Iassumed,ofcourse,thatshewasasleep.”
“Didyouhearherbreathing?Surelyyouwouldhavelistenedforthat?”
Timthoughtearnestly.
“Itwasverystill—verystillindeed.No,Ican’trememberactuallyhearingherbreathe.”
“Wasthereanysmellofsmokelingeringintheair,astherewouldhavebeenifafirearmhadbeendischargedrecently?”
“Idon’tthinkso.Idon’trememberit.”
Poirotsighed.
“Thenwearenofurther.”
Timaskedcuriously,“Whowasitsawme?”
“RosalieOtterbourne.ShecameroundfromtheothersideoftheboatandsawyouleaveLinnetDoyle’scabinandgotoyourown.”
“Soitwasshewhotoldyou.”
Poirotsaidgently,“Excuseme;shedidnottellme.”
“Butthen,howdoyouknow?”
“BecauseIamHerculePoirotIdonotneedtobetold.WhenItaxedherwithit,doyouknowwhatshesaid?Shesaid:‘Isawnobody.’Andshelied.”
“Butwhy?”
Poirotsaidinadetachedvoice:“Perhapsbecauseshethoughtthemanshesawwasthemurderer.Itlookedlikethat,youknow.”
“Thatseemstomeallthemorereasonfortellingyou.”
Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.“Shedidnotthinkso,itseems.”
Timsaid,aqueernoteinhisvoice:“She’sanextraordinarysortofagirl.Shemusthavebeenthroughaprettyroughtimewiththatmotherofhers.”
“Yes,lifehasnotbeeneasyforher.”
“Poorkid,”Timmuttered.ThenhelookedtowardsRace.
“Well,sir,wheredowegofromhere?IadmittakingthepearlsfromLinnet’scabinandyou’llfindthemjustwhereyousaytheyare.I’mguiltyallright.ButasfarasMissSouthwoodisconcerned,I’mnotadmittinganything.You’venoevidencewhateveragainsther.HowIgotholdofthefakenecklaceismyownbusiness.”
Poirotmurmured:“Averycorrectattitude.”
Timsaidwithaflashofhumour:“Alwaysthegentleman!”Headded:“Perhapsyoucanimaginehowannoyingitwastometofindmymothercottoningontoyou!I’mnotasufficientlyhardenedcriminaltoenjoysittingcheekbyjowlwithasuccessfuldetectivejustbeforebringingoffaratherriskycoup!Somepeoplemightgetakickoutofit.Ididn’t.Frankly,itgavemecoldfeet.”
“Butitdidnotdeteryoufrommakingyourattempt?”
Timshruggedhisshoulders.
“Icouldn’tfunkittothatextent.TheexchangehadtobemadesometimeandI’dgotauniqueopportunityonthisboat—acabinonlytwodoorsoff,andLinnetherselfsopreoccupiedwithherowntroublesthatshewasn’tlikelytodetectthechange.”
“Iwonderifthatwasso—”
Timlookedupsharply.“Whatdoyoumean?”
Poirotpressedthebell.“IamgoingtoaskMissOtterbourneifshewillcomehereforaminute.”
Timfrownedbutsaidnothing.Astewardcame,receivedtheorderandwentawaywiththemessage.
Rosaliecameafterafewminutes.Hereyes,reddenedwithrecentweeping,widenedalittleatseeingTim,butheroldattitudeofsuspicionanddefianceseemedentirelyabsent.ShesatdownandwithanewdocilitylookedfromRacetoPoirot.
“We’reverysorrytobotheryou,MissOtterbourne,”saidRacegently.HewasslightlyannoyedwithPoirot.
“Itdoesn’tmatter,”thegirlsaidinalowvoice.
Poirotsaid:“Itisnecessarytoclearuponeortwopoints.WhenIaskedyouwhetheryousawanyoneonthestarboarddeckatone-tenthismorning,youranswerwasthatyousawnobody.FortunatelyIhavebeenabletoarriveatthetruthwithoutyourhelp.MonsieurAllertonhasadmittedthathewasinLinnetDoyle’scabinlastnight.”
SheflashedaswiftglanceatTim.Tim,hisfacegrimandset,gaveacurtnod
“Thetimeiscorrect,MonsieurAllerton?”
Allertonreplied,“Quitecorrect.”
Rosaliewasstaringathim.Herlipstrembled—fellapart….
“Butyoudidn’t—youdidn’t—”
Hesaidquickly:“No,Ididn’tkillher.I’mathief,notamurderer.It’sallgoingtocomeout,soyoumightaswellknow.Iwasafterherpearls.”
Poirotsaid,“Mr.Allerton’sstoryisthathewenttohercabinlastnightandexchangedastringoffakepearlsfortherealones.”
“Didyou?”askedRosalie.Hereyes,grave,sad,childlike,questionedhis.
“Yes,”saidTim.
Therewasapause.ColonelRaceshiftedrestlessly.
Poirotsaidinacuriousvoice:“That,asIsay,isMonsieurAllerton’sstory,partiallyconfirmedbyyourevidence.Thatistosay,thereisevidencethathedidvisitLinnetDoyle’scabinlastnight,butthereisnoevidencetoshowwhyhedidso.”
Timstaredathim.“Butyouknow!”
“WhatdoIknow?”
“Well—youknowI’vegotthepearls.”
“Maisoui—maisoui!Iknowyouhavethepearls,butIdonotknowwhenyougotthem.Itmayhavebeenbeforelastnight…YousaidjustnowthatLinnetDoylewouldnothavenoticedthesubstitution.Iamnotsosureofthat.Supposingshedidnoticeit…Supposing,even,sheknewwhodidit…Supposingthatlastnightshethreatenedtoexposethewholebusiness,andthatyouknewshemeanttodoso…andsupposingthatyouoverheardthesceneinthesaloonbetweenJacquelinedeBellefortandSimonDoyleand,assoonasthesaloonwasempty,youslippedinandsecuredthepistol,andthen,anhourlater,whentheboathadquieteddown,youcreptalongtoLinnetDoyle’scabinandmadequitesurethatnoexposurewouldcome….”
“MyGod!”saidTim.Outofhisashenface,twotortured,agonizedeyesgazeddumblyatHerculePoirot.
Thelatterwenton:“Butsomebodyelsesawyou—thegirlLouise.Thenextdayshecametoyouandblackmailedyou.Youmustpayherhandsomelyorshewouldtellwhatsheknew.Yourealizedthattosubmittoblackmailwouldbethebeginningoftheend.Youpretendedtoagree,madeanappointmenttocometohercabinjustbeforelunchwiththemoney.
“Butagainluckwasagainstyou.Somebodysawyougotohercabin”—hehalfturnedtoRosalie—“yourmother.Onceagainyouhadtoact—dangerously,foolhardily—butitwastheonlychance.YouhadheardPenningtontalkabouthisrevolver.Yourushedintohiscabin,gotholdofit,listenedoutsideDr.Bessner’scabindoor,andshotMadameOtterbournebeforeshecouldrevealyourname.”
“No-o!”criedRosalie.“Hedidn’t!Hedidn’t!”
“Afterthat,youdidtheonlythingyoucoulddo—rushedroundthestern.AndwhenIrushedafteryou,youhadturnedandpretendedtobecomingintheoppositedirection.Youhadhandledtherevolveringloves;thosegloveswereinyourpocketwhenIaskedforthem….”
Timsaid,“BeforeGod,Iswearitisn’ttrue—notawordofit.”Buthisvoice,ill-assuredandtrembling,failedtoconvince.
ItwasthenthatRosalieOtterbournesurprisedthem.
“Ofcourseitisn’ttrue!AndMonsieurPoirotknowsitisn’t!He’ssayingitforsomereasonofhisown.”
Poirotlookedather.Afaintsmilecametohislips.Hespreadouthishandsintokensurrender.
“Mademoiselleistooclever…Butyouagree—itwasagoodcase?”
“Whatthedevil—”Timbeganwithrisinganger,butPoirotheldupahand.
“Thereisaverygoodcaseagainstyou,MonsieurAllerton.Iwantedyoutorealizethat.NowIwilltellyousomethingmorepleasant.Ihavenotyetexaminedthatrosaryinyourcabin.Itmaybethat,whenIdo,Ishallfindnothingthere.Andthen,sinceMademoiselleOtterbournestickstoitthatshesawnooneonthedecklastnight,ehbien!thereisnocaseagainstyouatall.Thepearlsweretakenbyakleptomaniacwhohassincereturnedthem.Theyareinalittleboxonthetablebythedoor,ifyouwouldliketoexaminethemwithMademoiselle.”
Timgotup.Hestoodforamomentunabletospeak.Whenhedid,hiswordsseemedinadequate,butitispossiblethattheysatisfiedhislisteners.
“Thanks!”hesaid.“Youwon’thavetogivemeanotherchance!”
Heheldthedooropenforthegirl;shepassedoutand,pickingupthelittlecardboardbox,hefollowedher.
Sidebysidetheywent.Timopenedthebox,tookouttheshamstringofpearlsandhurleditfarfromhimintotheNile.
“There!”hesaid.“That’sgone.WhenIreturntheboxtoPoirottherealstringwillbeinit.WhatadamnedfoolI’vebeen!”
Rosaliesaidinalowvoice:“Whydidyoucometodoitinthefirstplace?”
“HowdidIcometostart,doyoumean?Oh,Idon’tknow.Boredom—laziness—thefunofthething.Suchamuchmoreattractivewayofearningalivingthanjustpeggingawayatajob.Soundsprettysordidtoyou,Iexpect,butyouknowtherewasanattractionaboutit—mainlytherisk,Isuppose.”
“IthinkIunderstand.”
“Yes,butyouwouldn’teverdoit.”
Rosalieconsideredforamomentortwo,hergraveyoungheadbent.
“No,”shesaidsimply.“Iwouldn’t.”
Hesaid:“Oh,mydear—you’resolovely…soutterlylovely.Whywouldn’tyousayyou’dseenmelastnight?”
“Ithought—theymightsuspectyou,”Rosaliesaid.
“Didyoususpectme?”
“No.Icouldn’tbelievethatyou’dkillanyone.”
“No.I’mnotthestrongstuffmurderersaremadeof.I’monlyamiserablesneak-thief.”
Sheputoutatimidhandandtouchedhisarm.
“Don’tsaythat.”
Hecaughtherhandinhis.
“Rosalie,wouldyou—youknowwhatImean?Orwouldyoualwaysdespisemeandthrowitinmyteeth?”
Shesmiledfaintly.“Therearethingsyoucouldthrowinmyteeth,too….”
“Rosalie—darling….”
Butsheheldbackaminutelonger.
“This—Joanna?”
Timgaveasuddenshout.
“Joanna?You’reasbadasMother.Idon’tcareadamnaboutJoanna.She’sgotafacelikeahorseandapredatoryeye.Amostunattractivefemale.”
PresentlyRosaliesaid:“Yourmotherneedneverknowaboutyou.”
“I’mnotsure,”Timsaidthoughtfully.“IthinkIshalltellher.Mother’sgotplentyofstuffing,youknow.Shecanstanduptothings.Yes,IthinkIshallshatterhermaternalillusionsaboutme.She’llbesorelievedtoknowthatmyrelationswithJoannawerepurelyofabusinessnaturethatshe’llforgivemeeverythingelse.”
TheyhadcometoMrs.Allerton’scabinandTimknockedfirmlyonthedoor.ItopenedandMrs.Allertonstoodonthethreshold.
“RosalieandI—”beganTim.Hepaused.
“Oh,mydears,”saidMrs.Allerton.ShefoldedRosalieinherarms.“Mydear,dearchild.Ialwayshoped—butTimwassotiresome—andpretendedhedidn’tlikeyou.ButofcourseIsawthroughthat!”
Rosaliesaidinabrokenvoice:“You’vebeensosweettome—always.Iusedtowish—towish—”
ShebrokeoffandsobbedhappilyonMrs.Allerton’sshoulder.
Twenty-Eight
AsthedoorclosedbehindTimandRosalie,PoirotlookedsomewhatapologeticallyatColonelRace.TheColonelwaslookingrathergrim.
“Youwillconsenttomylittlearrangement,yes?”Poirotpleaded.“Itisirregular—Iknowitisirregular,yes—butIhaveahighregardforhumanhappiness.”
“You’venoneformine,”saidRace.
“Thatjeunefille.Ihaveatendernesstowardsher,andshelovesthatyoungman.Itwillbeanexcellentmatch;shehasthestiffeningheneeds;themotherlikesher;everythingthoroughlysuitable.”
“InfactthemarriagehasbeenarrangedbyheavenandHerculePoirot.AllIhavetodoistocompoundafelony.”
“But,monami,Itoldyou,itwasallconjectureonmypart.”
Racegrinnedsuddenly.
“It’sallrightbyme,”hesaid.“I’mnotadamnedpoliceman,thankGod!Idaresaytheyoungfoolwillgostraightenoughnow.Thegirl’sstraightallright.No,whatI’mcomplainingofisyourtreatmentofme!I’mapatientman,buttherearelimitstopatience!Doyouknowwhocommittedthethreemurdersonthisboatordon’tyou?”
“Ido.”
“Thenwhyallthisbeatingaboutthebush?”
“YouthinkthatIamjustamusingmyselfwithsideissues?Anditannoysyou?Butitisnotthat.OnceIwentprofessionallytoanarch?ologicalexpedition—andIlearntsomethingthere.Inthecourseofanexcavation,whensomethingcomesupoutoftheground,everythingisclearedawayverycarefullyallaroundit.Youtakeawaythelooseearth,andyouscrapehereandtherewithaknifeuntilfinallyyourobjectisthere,allalone,readytobedrawnandphotographedwithnoextraneousmatterconfusingit.ThatiswhatIhavebeenseekingtodo—clearawaytheextraneousmattersothatwecanseethetruth—thenakedshiningtruth.”
“Good,”saidRace.“Let’shavethisnakedshiningtruth.Itwasn’tPennington.Itwasn’tyoungAllerton.Ipresumeitwasn’tFleetwood.Let’shearwhoitwasforachange.”
“Myfriend,Iamjustabouttotellyou.”
Therewasaknockonthedoor.Raceutteredamuffledcurse.ItwasDr.BessnerandCornelia.Thelatterwaslookingupset.
“Oh,ColonelRace,”sheexclaimed,“MissBowershasjusttoldmeaboutCousinMarie.It’sbeenthemostdreadfulshock.Shesaidshecouldn’tbeartheresponsibilityallbyherselfanylonger,andthatI’dbetterknow,asIwasoneofthefamily.Ijustcouldn’tbelieveitatfirst,butDr.Bessnerherehasbeenjustwonderful.”
“No,no,”protestedthedoctormodestly.
“He’sbeensokind,explainingitall,andhowpeoplereallycan’thelpit.He’shadkleptomaniacsinhisclinicAndhe’sexplainedtomehowit’sveryoftenduetoadeep-seatedneurosis.”
Corneliarepeatedthewordswithawe.
“It’splantedverydeeplyinthesubconscious;sometimesit’sjustsomelittlethingthathappenedwhenyouwereachild.Andhe’scuredpeoplebygettingthemtothinkbackandrememberwhatthatlittlethingwas.”
Corneliapaused,drewadeepbreath,andstartedoffagain.
“Butit’sworryingmedreadfullyincaseitallgetsout.Itwouldbetoo,tooterribleinNewYork.Why,allthetabloidswouldhaveit.CousinMarieandMotherandeverybody—they’dneverholduptheirheadsagain.”
Racesighed.“That’sallright,”hesaid.
“ThisisHushHushHouse.”
“Ibegyourpardon,ColonelRace?”
“WhatIwasendeavouringtosaywasthatanythingshortofmurderisbeinghushedup.”
“Oh!”Corneliaclaspedherhands.“I’msorelieved.I’vejustbeenworryingandworrying.”
“Youhavethehearttootender,”saidDr.Bessner,andpattedherbenevolentlyontheshoulder.Hesaidtotheothers:“Shehasaverysensitiveandbeautifulnature.”
“Oh,Ihaven’treally.You’retookind.”
Poirotmurmured,“HaveyouseenanymoreofMr.Ferguson?”
Corneliablushed.
“No—butCousinMarie’sbeentalkingabouthim.”
“Itseemstheyoungmanishighlyborn,”saidDr.Bessner.“Imustconfesshedoesnotlookit.Hisclothesareterrible.Notforamomentdoesheappearawell-bredman.”
“Andwhatdoyouthink,Mademoiselle?”
“Ithinkhemustbejustplaincrazy,”saidCornelia.
Poirotturnedtothedoctor.“Howisyourpatient?”
“Ach,heisgoingonsplendidly.IhavejustreassuredtheFr?uleindeBellefort.Wouldyoubelieveit,Ifoundherindespair.Justbecausethefellowhadabitofatemperaturethisafternoon!Butwhatcouldbemorenatural?Itisamazingthatheisnotinahighfevernow.Butno,heislikesomeofourpeasants;hehasamagnificentconstitution,theconstitutionofanox.Ihaveseenthemwithdeepwoundsthattheyhardlynotice.ItisthesamewithMr.Doyle.Hispulseissteady,histemperatureonlyslightlyabovenormal.Iwasabletopooh-poohthelittlelady’sfears.Allthesame,itisridiculous,nichtwahr?Oneminuteyoushootaman;thenextyouareinhystericsincasehemaynotbedoingwell.”
Corneliasaid:“Sheloveshimterribly,yousee.”
“Ach!butitisnotsensible,that.Ifyoulovedaman,wouldyoutryandshoothim?No,youaresensible.”
“Idon’tlikethingsthatgooffwithbangsanyway,”saidCornelia.
“Naturallyyoudonot.Youareveryfeminine.”
Raceinterruptedthissceneofheavyapproval.“SinceDoyleisallrightthere’snoreasonIshouldn’tcomealongandresumeourtalkofthisafternoon.Hewasjusttellingmeaboutatelegram.”
Dr.Bessner’sbulkmovedupanddownappreciatively.
“Ho,ho,ho,itwasveryfunnythat!Doyle,hetellsmeaboutit.Itwasatelegramallaboutvegetables—potatoes,artichokes,leeks—Ach!pardon?”
Withastifledexclamation,Racehadsatupinhischair.
“MyGod,”hesaid.“Sothat’sit!Richetti!”
Helookedroundonthreeuncomprehendingfaces.
“Anewcode—itwasusedintheSouthAfricanrebellion.Potatoesmeanmachineguns,artichokesarehighexplosives—andsoon.Richettiisnomoreanarch?ologistthanIam!He’saverydangerousagitator,amanwho’skilledmorethanonce,andI’llswearthathe’skilledonceagain.Mrs.Doyleopenedthattelegrambymistake,yousee.Ifshewereevertorepeatwhatwasinitbeforeme,heknewhisgoosewouldbecooked!”
HeturnedtoPoirot.“AmIright?”heasked.“IsRichettitheman?”
“Heisyourman,”saidPoirot.“Ialwaysthoughttherewassomethingwrongabouthim.Hewasalmosttooword-perfectinhisr?le;hewasallarch?ologist,notenoughhumanbeing.”
Hepausedandthensaid:“ButitwasnotRichettiwhokilledLinnetDoyle.ForsometimenowIhaveknownwhatImayexpressasthe‘firsthalf’ofthemurderer.NowIknowthe‘secondhalf’also.Thepictureiscomplete.Butyouunderstandthat,althoughIknowwhatmusthavehappened,Ihavenoproofthatithappened.Intellectuallythecaseissatisfying.Actuallyitisprofoundlyunsatisfactory.Thereisonlyonehope—aconfessionfromthemurderer.”
Dr.Bessnerraisedhisshoulderssceptically.“Ah!butthat—itwouldbeamiracle.”
“Ithinknot.Notunderthecircumstances.”
Corneliacriedout:“Butwhoisit?Aren’tyougoingtotellus?”
Poirot’seyesrangedquietlyoverthethreeofthem.Race,smilingsardonically,Bessner,stilllookingsceptical,Cornelia,hermouthhangingalittleopen,gazingathimwitheagereyes.
“Maisoui,”hesaid.“Ilikeanaudience,Imustconfess.Iamvain,yousee.Iampuffedupwithconceit.Iliketosay:‘SeehowcleverisHerculePoirot!’”
Raceshiftedalittleinhischair.
“Well,”heaskedgently,“justhowcleverisHerculePoirot?”
ShakinghisheadsadlyfromsidetosidePoirotsaid:“TobeginwithIwasstupid—incrediblystupid.Tomethestumblingblockwasthepistol—JacquelinedeBellefort’spistol.Whyhadthatpistolnotbeenleftonthesceneofthecrime?Theideaofthemurdererwasquiteplainlytoincriminateher.Whythendidthemurderertakeitaway?IwassostupidthatIthoughtofallsortsoffantasticreasons.Therealonewasverysimple.Themurderertookitawaybecausehehadtotakeitaway—becausehehadnochoiceinthematter.”
Twenty-Nine
“YouandI,myfriend,”PoirotleanedtowardsRace,“startedourinvestigationwithapreconceivedidea.Thatideawasthatthecrimewascommittedonthespurofthemoment,withoutanypreliminaryplanning.SomebodywishedtoremoveLinnetDoyleandhadseizedtheiropportunitytodosoatamomentwhenthecrimewouldalmostcertainlybeattributedtoJacquelinedeBellefort.ItthereforefollowedthatthepersoninquestionhadoverheardthescenebetweenJacquelineandSimonDoyleandhadobtainedpossessionofthepistolaftertheothershadleftthesaloon.
“But,myfriends,ifthatpreconceivedideawaswrong,thewholeaspectofthecasealtered.Anditwaswrong!Thiswasnospontaneouscrimecommittedonthespurofthemoment.Itwas,onthecontrary,verycarefullyplannedandaccuratelytimed,withallthedetailsmeticulouslyworkedoutbeforehand,eventothedruggingofHerculePoirot’sbottleofwineonthenightinquestion!
“Butyes,thatisso!Iwasputtosleepsothatthereshouldbenopossibilityofmyparticipatingintheeventsofthenight.Itdidjustoccurtomeasapossibility.Idrinkwine;mytwocompanionsattabledrinkwhiskyandmineralwaterrespectively.Nothingeasierthantoslipadoseofharmlessnarcoticintomybottleofwine—thebottlesstandonthetablesallday.ButIdismissedthethought.Ithadbeenahotday;Ihadbeenunusuallytired;itwasnotreallyextraordinarythatIshouldforoncehavesleptheavilyinsteadoflightlyasIusuallydo.
“Yousee,Iwasstillinthegripofthepreconceivedidea.IfIhadbeendrugged,thatwouldhaveimpliedpremeditation,itwouldmeanthatbeforeseven-thirty,whendinnerisserved,thecrimehadalreadybeendecidedupon;andthat(alwaysfromthepointofviewofthepreconceivedidea)wasabsurd.
“ThefirstblowtothepreconceivedideawaswhenthepistolwasrecoveredfromtheNile.Tobeginwith,ifwewererightinourassumptions,thepistoloughtnevertohavebeenthrownoverboardatall…Andtherewasmoretofollow.”
PoirotturnedtoDr.Bessner.
“You,Dr.Bessner,examinedLinnetDoyle’sbody.Youwillrememberthatthewoundshowedsignsofscorching—thatistosay,thatthepistolhadbeenplacedcloseagainsttheheadbeforebeingfired.”
Bessnernodded.“So.Thatisexact.”
“Butwhenthepistolwasfounditwaswrappedinavelvetstole,andthatvelvetshoweddefinitesignsthatapistolhadbeenfiredthroughitsfolds,presumablyundertheimpressionthatthatwoulddeadenthesoundoftheshot.Butifthepistolhadbeenfiredthroughthevelvet,therewouldhavebeennosignsofburningonthevictim’sskin.Therefore,theshotfiredbyJacquelinedeBellefortatSimonDoyle?Againno,fortherehadbeentwowitnessesofthatshooting,andweknewallaboutit.Itappeared,therefore,asthoughathirdshothadbeenfired—oneweknewnothingabout.Butonlytwoshotshadbeenfiredfromthepistol,andtherewasnohintorsuggestionofanothershot.
“Herewewerefacetofacewithaverycuriousunexplainedcircumstance.ThenextinterestingpointwasthefactthatinLinnetDoyle’scabinIfoundtwobottlesofcolourednailpolish.Nowladiesveryoftenvarythecolouroftheirnails,butsofarLinnetDoyle’snailshadalwaysbeentheshadecalledCardinal—adeepdarkred.TheotherbottlewaslabelledRose,whichisashadeofpalepink,butthefewdropsremaininginthebottlewerenotpalepinkbutabrightred.Iwassufficientlycurioustotakeoutthestopperandsniff.Insteadoftheusualstrongodourofpeardrops,thebottlesmeltofvinegar!Thatistosay,itsuggestedthatthedroportwooffluidinitwasredink.NowthereisnoreasonwhyMadameDoyleshouldnothavehadabottleofredink,butitwouldhavebeenmorenaturalifshehadhadredinkinaredinkbottleandnotinanailpolishbottle.Itsuggestedalinkwiththefaintlystainedhandkerchiefwhichhadbeenwrappedroundthepistol.Redinkwashesoutquicklybutalwaysleavesapalepinkstain
“Ishouldperhapshavearrivedatthetruthwiththeseslenderindications,butaneventoccurredwhichrenderedalldoubtsuperfluous.LouiseBourgetwaskilledincircumstanceswhichpointedunmistakablytothefactthatshehadbeenblackmailingthemurderer.Notonlywasafragmentofamillefrancnotestillclaspedinherhand,butIrememberedsomeverysignificantwordsshehadusedthismorning.
“Listencarefully,forhereisthecruxofthewholematter.WhenIaskedherifshehadseenanythingthepreviousnightshegavethisverycuriousanswer:‘Naturally,ifIhadbeenunabletosleep,ifIhadmountedthestairs,thenperhapsImighthaveseenthisassassin,thismonsterenterorleaveMadame’scabin…’Nowwhatexactlydidthattellus?”
Bessner,hisnosewrinklingwithintellectualinterest,repliedpromptly:“Ittoldyouthatshehadmountedthestairs.”
“No,no;youfailtoseethepoint.Whyshouldshehavesaidthat,tous?”
“Toconveyahint.”
“Butwhyhinttous?Ifsheknowswhothemurdereris,therearetwocoursesopentoher—totellusthetruth,ortoholdhertongueanddemandmoneyforhersilencefromthepersonconcerned!Butshedoesneither.Sheneithersayspromptly:‘Isawnobody.Iwasasleep.’Nordoesshesay:‘Yes,Isawsomeone,anditwassoandso.’Whyusethatsignificantindeterminaterigmaroleofwords?Parbleu,therecanbeonlyonereason!Sheishintingtothemurderer;thereforethemurderermusthavebeenpresentatthetime.But,besidesmyselfandColonelRace,onlytwopeoplewerepresent—SimonDoyleandDr.Bessner.”
Thedoctorsprangupwitharoar.
“Ach!whatisthatyousay?Youaccuseme?Again?Butitisridiculous—beneathcontempt.”
Poirotsaidsharply:“Bequiet.IamtellingyouwhatIthoughtatthetime.Letusremainimpersonal.”
“Hedoesn’tmeanhethinksit’syounow,”saidCorneliasoothingly.
Poirotwentonquickly:“Soitlaythere—betweenSimonDoyleandDr.Bessner.ButwhatreasonhasBessnertokillLinnetDoyle?None,sofarasIknow.SimonDoyle,then?Butthatwasimpossible!TherewereplentyofwitnesseswhocouldswearthatDoyleneverleftthesaloonthateveninguntilthequarrelbrokeout.Afterthathewaswoundedanditwouldthenhavebeenphysicallyimpossibleforhimtohavedoneso.HadIgoodevidenceonboththosepoints?Yes,IhadtheevidenceofMademoiselleRobson,ofJimFanthorp,andofJacquelinedeBellefortastothefirst,andIhadtheskilledtestimonyofDr.BessnerandofMademoiselleBowersastotheother.Nodoubtwaspossible.
“SoDr.Bessnermustbetheguiltyone.Infavourofthistheorytherewasthefactthatthemaidhadbeenstabbedwithasurgicalknife.OntheotherhandBessnerhaddeliberatelycalledattentiontothisfact.
“Andthen,myfriends,asecondperfectlyindisputablefactbecameapparenttome.LouiseBourget’shintcouldnothavebeenintendedforDr.Bessner,becauseshecouldperfectlywellhavespokentohiminprivateatanytimesheliked.Therewasoneperson,andonepersononly,whocorrespondedtohernecessity—SimonDoyle!SimonDoylewaswounded,wasconstantlyattendedbyadoctor,wasinthatdoctor’scabin.Itwastohimthereforethatsheriskedsayingthoseambiguouswords,incaseshemightnotgetanotherchance.AndIrememberhowshehadgoneon,turningtohim:‘Monsieur,Iimploreyou—youseehowitis?WhatcanIsay?’Andthisanswer:‘Mygoodgirl,don’tbeafool.Nobodythinksyousaworheardanything.You’llbequiteallright.I’lllookafteryou.Nobody’saccusingyouofanything.’Thatwastheassuranceshewanted,andshegotit!”
Bessnerutteredacolossalsnort.
“Ach!itisfoolish,that!Doyouthinkamanwithafracturedboneandasplintonhislegcouldgowalkingabouttheboatandstabbingpeople?Itellyou,itwasimpossibleforSimonDoyletoleavehiscabin.”
Poirotsaidgently:“Iknow.Thatisquitetrue.Thethingwasimpossible.Itwasimpossible,butitwasalsotrue!TherecouldbeonlyonelogicalmeaningbehindLouiseBourget’swords.
“SoIreturnedtothebeginningandreviewedthecrimeinthelightofthisnewknowledge.WasitpossiblethatintheperiodprecedingthequarrelSimonDoylehadleftthesaloonandtheothershadforgottenornotnoticedit?Icouldnotseethatitwaspossible.CouldtheskilledtestimonyofDr.BessnerandMademoiselleBowersbedisregarded?AgainIfeltsureitcouldnot.But,Iremembered,therewasagapbetweenthetwo.SimonDoylehadbeenaloneinthesaloonforaperiodoffiveminutes,andtheskilledtestimonyofDr.Bessneronlyappliedtothetimeafterthatperiod.Forthatperiodwehadonlytheevidenceofvisualappearance,and,thoughapparentlythatwasperfectlysound,itwasnolongercertain.Whathadactuallybeenseen—leavingassumptionoutofthequestion?
“MademoiselleRobsonhadseenMademoiselledeBellefortfireherpistol,hadseenSimonDoylecollapseontoachair,hadseenhimclaspahandkerchieftohislegandseenthathandkerchiefgraduallysoakthroughred.WhathadMonsieurFanthorpheardandseen?Heheardashot,hefoundDoylewithared-stainedhandkerchiefclaspedtohisleg.Whathadhappenedthen?DoylehadbeenveryinsistentthatMademoiselledeBellefortshouldbegotaway,thatsheshouldnotbeleftalone.Afterthat,hesuggestedthatFanthorpshouldgetholdofthedoctor.
“AccordinglyMademoiselleRobsonandMonsieurFanthorpgotoutwithMademoiselledeBellefortandforthenextfiveminutestheyarebusy,ontheportsideofthedeck.MademoiselleBowers’,Dr.Bessner’sandMademoiselledeBellefort’scabinsareallontheportside.TwominutesareallthatSimonDoyleneeds.Hepicksupthepistolfromunderthesofa,slipsoutofhisshoes,runslikeaharesilentlyalongthestarboarddeck,entershiswife’scabin,creepsuptoherassheliesasleep,shootsherthroughthehead,putsthebottlethathascontainedtheredinkonherwashstand(itmustn’tbefoundonhim),runsback,getsholdofMademoiselleVanSchuyler’svelvetstole,whichhehasquietlystuffeddownthesideofachairinreadiness,mufflesitroundthepistolandfiresabulletintohisleg.Hischairintowhichhefalls(ingenuineagonythistime)isbyawindow.Heliftsthewindowandthrowsthepistol(wrappedupwiththetelltalehandkerchiefinthevelvetstole)intotheNile.”
“Impossible!”saidRace.
“No,myfriend,notimpossible.RemembertheevidenceofTimAllerton.Heheardapop—followedbyasplash.Andheheardsomethingelse—thefootstepsofamanrunning—amanrunningpasthisdoor.Butnobodycouldhavebeenrunningalongthestarboardsideofthedeck.WhatheheardwasthestockingedfeetofSimonDoylerunningpasthiscabin.”
Racesaid:“Istillsayit’simpossible.Nomancouldworkoutthewholecaboodlelikethatinaflash—especiallyachaplikeDoylewhoisslowinhismentalprocesses.”
“Butveryquickanddeftinhisphysicalactions!”
“That,yes.Buthewouldn’tbecapableofthinkingthewholethingout.”
“Buthedidnotthinkitouthimself,myfriend.Thatiswherewewereallwrong.Itlookedlikeacrimecommittedonthespurofthemoment,butitwasnotacrimecommittedonthespurofthemoment.AsIsay,itwasaverycleverlyplannedandwellthoughtoutpieceofwork.ItcouldnotbechancethatSimonDoylehadabottleofredinkinhispocket.No,itmustbedesign.ItwasnotchancethatJacquelinedeBellefort’sfootkickedthepistolunderthesettee,whereitwouldbeoutofsightandunremembereduntillater.”
“Jacqueline?”
“Certainly.Thetwohalvesofthemurder.WhatgaveSimonhisalibi?TheshotfiredbyJacqueline.WhatgaveJacquelineheralibi?TheinsistenceofSimonwhichresultedinahospitalnurseremainingwithherallnight.There,betweenthetwoofthem,yougetallthequalitiesyourequire—thecool,resourceful,planningbrain,JacquelinedeBellefort’sbrain,andthemanofactiontocarryitoutwithincredibleswiftnessandtiming.”
“Lookatittherightway,anditanswerseveryquestion.SimonDoyleandJacquelinehadbeenlovers.Realizethattheyarestilllovers,anditisallclear.Simondoesawaywithhisrichwife,inheritshermoney,andinduecoursewillmarryhisoldlove.Itwasallveryingenious.ThepersecutionofMadameDoylebyJacqueline,allpartoftheplan.Simon’spretendedrage…Andyet—therewerelapses.Heheldforthtomeonceaboutpossessivewomen—heldforthwithrealbitterness.Itoughttohavebeencleartomethatitwashiswifehewasthinkingabout—notJacqueline.Thenhismannertohiswifeinpublic.Anordinary,inarticulateEnglishman,suchasSimonDoyle,isveryembarrassedatshowinganyaffection.Simonwasnotareallygoodactor.Heoverdidthedevotedmanner.ThatconversationIhadwithMademoiselleJacqueline,too,whenshepretendedthatsomebodyhadoverheard,Isawnoone.Andtherewasnoone!Butitwastobeausefulredherringlater.ThenonenightonthisboatIthoughtIheardSimonandLinnetoutsidemycabin.Hewassaying,‘We’vegottogothroughwithitnow.’ItwasDoyleallright,butitwastoJacquelinehewasspeaking.
“Thefinaldramawasperfectlyplannedandtimed.Therewasasleepingdraughtforme,incaseImightputaninconvenientfingerinthepie.TherewastheselectionofMademoiselleRobsonasawitness—theworkingupofthescene,MademoiselledeBellefort’sexaggeratedremorseandhysterics.Shemadeagooddealofnoise,incasetheshotshouldbeheard.Envérité,itwasanextraordinarilycleveridea.JacquelinesaysshehasshotDoyle;MademoiselleRobsonsaysso;Fanthorpsaysso—andwhenSimon’slegisexaminedhehasbeenshot.Itlooksunanswerable!Forbothofthemthereisaperfectalibi—atthecost,itistrue,ofacertainamountofpainandrisktoSimonDoyle,butitisnecessarythathiswoundshoulddefinitelydisablehim.
“Andthentheplangoeswrong.LouiseBourgethasbeenwakeful.ShehascomeupthestairwayandshehasseenSimonDoylerunalongtohiswife’scabinandcomeback.Easyenoughtopiecetogetherwhathashappenedthefollowingday.Andsoshemakeshergreedybitforhushmoney,andinsodoingsignsherdeathwarrant.”
“ButMr.Doylecouldn’thavekilledher?”Corneliaobjected.
“No,theotherpartnerdidthatmurder.Assoonashecan,SimonDoyleaskstoseeJacqueline.Heevenasksmetoleavethemalonetogether.Hetellsherthenofthenewdanger.Theymustactatonce.HeknowswhereBessner’sscalpelsarekept.Afterthecrimethescalpeliswipedandreturned,andthen,verylateandratheroutofbreath,JacquelinedeBelleforthurriesintolunch.
“Andstillallisnotwell,forMadameOtterbournehasseenJacquelinegointoLouiseBourget’scabin.Andshecomeshot-foottotellSimonaboutit.Jacquelineisthemurderess.DoyourememberhowSimonshoutedatthepoorwoman?Nerves,wethought.Butthedoorwasopenandhewastryingtoconveythedangertohisaccomplice.Sheheardandshe
“Iremarkedafterthatthirdcrimethattherewerethreewaysthemurderercouldhavegone.Imeantthathecouldhavegoneaft(inwhichcaseTimAllertonwasthecriminal),hecouldhavegoneovertheside(veryimprobable)orhecouldhavegoneintoacabin.Jacqueline’scabinwasjusttwoawayfromDr.Bessner’s.Shehadonlytothrowdowntherevolver,boltintothecabin,ruffleherhairandflingherselfdownonthebunk.Itwasrisky,butitwastheonlypossiblechance.”
Therewasasilence,thenRaceasked:“WhathappenedtothefirstbulletfiredatDoylebythegirl?”
“Ithinkitwentintothetable.Thereisarecentlymadeholethere.IthinkDoylehadtimetodigitoutwithapenknifeandflingitthroughthewindow.Hehad,ofcourse,asparecartridge,sothatitwouldappearthatonlytwoshotshadbeenfired.”
Corneliasighed.“Theythoughtofeverything,”shesaid.“It’s—horrible!”
Poirotwassilent.Butitwasnotamodestsilence.Hiseyesseemedtobesaying:“Youarewrong.Theydidn’tallowforHerculePoirot.”
Aloudhesaid,“Andnow,Doctor,wewillgoandhaveawordwithyourpatient.”
Thirty
ItwasverymuchlaterthateveningthatHerculePoirotcameandknockedonthedoorofacabin.
Avoicesaid“Comein”andheentered
JacquelinedeBellefortwassittinginachair.Inanotherchair,closeagainstthewall,satthebigstewardess.
Jacqueline’seyessurveyedPoirotthoughtfully.Shemadeagesturetowardsthestewardess.
“Canshego?”
Poirotnoddedtothewomanandshewentout.PoirotdrewupherchairandsatdownnearJacqueline.Neitherofthemspoke.Poirot’sfacewasunhappy.
Intheenditwasthegirlwhospokefirst.
“Well,”shesaid,“itisallover!Youweretoocleverforus,MonsieurPoirot.”
Poirotsighed.Hespreadouthishands.Heseemedstrangelydumb.
“Allthesame,”saidJacquelinereflectively,“Ican’treallyseethatyouhadmuchproof.Youwerequiteright,ofcourse,butifwe’dbluffedyouout—”
“Innootherway,Mademoiselle,couldthethinghavehappened.”
“That’sproofenoughforalogicalmind,butIdon’tbelieveitwouldhaveconvincedajury.Oh,well—itcan’tbehelped.YousprangitallonSimon,andhewentdownlikeaninepin.Hejustlosthisheadutterly,poorlamb,andadmittedeverything.”Sheshookherhead.“He’sabadloser.”
“Butyou,Mademoiselle,areagoodloser.”
Shelaughedsuddenly—aqueer,gay,defiantlittlelaugh.
“Oh,yes,I’magoodloserallright.”Shelookedathim.
Shesaidsuddenlyandimpulsively:“Don’tmindsomuch,MonsieurPoirot!Aboutme,Imean.Youdomind,don’tyou?”
“Yes,Mademoiselle.”
“Butitwouldn’thaveoccurredtoyoutoletmeoff?”
HerculePoirotsaidquietly,“No.”
Shenoddedherheadinquietagreement.
“No,it’snousebeingsentimental.Imightdoitagain…I’mnotasafepersonanylonger.Icanfeelthatmyself…”Shewentonbroodingly:“It’ssodreadfullyeasy—killingpeople.Andyoubegintofeelthatitdoesn’tmatter…thatit’sonlyyouthatmatters!It’sdangerous—that.”
Shepaused,thensaidwithalittlesmile:“Youdidyourbestforme,youknow.ThatnightatAssuan—youtoldmenottoopenmyhearttoevil…Didyourealizethenwhatwasinmymind?”
Heshookhishead.
“IonlyknewthatwhatIsaidwastrue.”
“Itwastrue.Icouldhavestopped,then,youknow.Inearlydid…IcouldhavetoldSimonthatIwouldn’tgoonwithit…Butthenperhaps—”
Shebrokeoff.Shesaid:“Wouldyouliketohearaboutit?Fromthebeginning?”
“Ifyoucaretotellme,Mademoiselle.”
“IthinkIwanttotellyou.Itwasallverysimplereally.Yousee,SimonandIlovedeachother….”
Itwasamatter-of-factstatement,yet,underneaththelightnessofhertone,therewereechoes….
Poirotsaidsimply:“Andforyoulovewouldhavebeenenough,butnotforhim.”
“Youmightputitthatway,perhaps.Butyoudon’tquiteunderstandSimon.Yousee,he’salwayswantedmoneysodreadfully.Helikedallthethingsyougetwithmoney—horsesandyachtsandsport—nicethingsallofthem,thingsamanoughttobekeenabout.Andhe’dneverbeenabletohaveanyofthem.He’sawfullysimple,Simonis.Hewantsthingsjustasachildwantsthem—youknow—terribly.
“Allthesamehenevertriedtomarryanybodyrichandhorrid.Hewasn’tthatsort.Andthenwemet—and—andthatsortofsettledthings.Onlywedidn’tseewhenwe’dbeabletomarry.He’dhadratheradecentjob,buthe’dlostit.Inawayitwashisownfault.Hetriedtodosomethingsmartovermoney,andgotfoundoutatonce.Idon’tbelievehereallymeanttobedishonest.HejustthoughtitwasthesortofthingpeopledidintheCity.”
Aflickerpassedoverherlistener’sface,butheguardedhistongue.
“Therewewere,upagainstit;andthenIthoughtofLinnetandhernewcountryhouse,andIrushedofftoher.Youknow,MonsieurPoirot,IlovedLinnet,reallyIdid.Shewasmybestfriend,andIneverdreamedthatanythingwouldevercomebetweenus.Ijustthoughthowluckyitwasshewasrich.ItmightmakeallthedifferencetomeandSimonifshe’dgivehimajob.AndshewasawfullysweetaboutitandtoldmetobringSimondowntoseeher.ItwasaboutthenyousawusthatnightatChezMaTante.Weweremakingwhoopee,althoughwecouldn’treallyaffordit.”
Shepaused,sighed,thenwenton:“WhatI’mgoingtosaynowisquitetrue,MonsieurPoirot.EventhoughLinnetisdead,itdoesn’talterthetruth.That’swhyI’mnotreallysorryabouther,evennow.ShewentallouttogetSimonawayfromme.That’stheabsolutetruth!Idon’tthinksheevenhesitatedformorethanaboutaminute.Iwasherfriend,butshedidn’tcare.Shejustwentbald-headedforSimon….
“AndSimondidn’tcareadamnabouther!Italkedalottoyouaboutglamour,butofcoursethatwasn’ttrue.Hedidn’twantLinnet.Hethoughthergood-lookingbutterriblybossy,andhehatedbossywomen!Thewholethingembarrassedhimfrightfully.Buthedidlikethethoughtofhermoney.
“OfcourseIsawthat…andatlastIsuggestedtohimthatitmightbeagoodthingifhe—gotridofmeandmarriedLinnet.Buthescoutedtheidea.Hesaid,moneyornomoney,itwouldbehelltobemarriedtoher.Hesaidhisideaofhavingmoneywastohaveithimself—nottohavearichwifeholdingthepursestrings.‘I’dbeakindofdamnedPrinceConsort,’hesaidtome.Hesaid,too,thathedidn’twantanyonebutme….
“IthinkIknowwhentheideacameintohishead.Hesaidoneday:‘IfI’danyluck,I’dmarryherandshe’ddieinaboutayearandleavemealltheboodle.’Andthenaqueerstartledlookcameintohiseyes.Thatwaswhenhefirstthoughtofit….
“Hetalkedaboutitagooddeal,onewayandanother—abouthowconvenientitwouldbeifLinnetdied.Isaiditwasanawfulidea,andthenheshutupaboutit.Then,oneday,Ifoundhimreadingupallaboutarsenic.Itaxedhimwithitthen,andhelaughedandsaid:‘Nothingventure,nothinghave!It’sabouttheonlytimeinmylifeIshallbeneartotouchingafarlotofmoney.’
“AfterabitIsawthathe’dmadeuphismind.AndIwasterrified—simplyterrified.Because,yousee,Irealizedthathe’dneverpullitoff.He’ssochildishlysimple.He’dhavenokindofsubtletyaboutit—andhe’sgotnoimagination.Hewouldprobablyhavejustbungedarsenicintoherandassumedthedoctorwouldsayshe’ddiedofgastritis.Healwaysthoughtthingswouldgoright.
“SoIhadtocomeintoit,too,tolookafterhim….”
Shesaiditverysimplybutincompletegoodfaith.Poirothadnodoubtwhateverthathermotivehadbeenexactlywhatshesaiditwas.SheherselfhadnotcovetedLinnetRidgeway’smoney,butshehadlovedSimonDoyle,hadlovedhimbeyondreasonandbeyondrectitudeandbeyondpity.
“IthoughtandIthought—tryingtoworkoutaplan.Itseemedtomethatthebasisoftheideaoughttobeakindoftwo-handedalibi.Youknow—ifSimonandIcouldsomehoworothergiveevidenceagainsteachother,butactuallythatevidencewouldclearusofeverything.ItwouldbeeasyenoughformetopretendtohateSimon.Itwasquitealikelythingtohappenunderthecircumstances.Then,ifLinnetwaskilled,Ishouldprobablybesuspected,soitwouldbebetterifIwassuspectedrightaway.Weworkedoutdetailslittlebylittle.Iwantedittobesothat,ifanythingwentwrong,they’dgetmeandnotSimon.ButSimonwasworriedaboutme.
“TheonlythingIwasgladaboutwasthatIhadn’tgottodoit.Isimplycouldn’thave!Notgoalongincoldbloodandkillherwhenshewasasleep!Yousee,Ihadn’tforgivenher—IthinkIcouldhavekilledherfacetoface,butnottheotherway….
“Weworkedeverythingoutcarefully.Eventhen,SimonwentandwroteaJinbloodwhichwasasillymelodramaticthingtodo.It’sjustthesortofthinghewouldthinkof!Butitwentoffallright.”
Poirotnodded.
“Yes.ItwasnotyourfaultthatLouiseBourgetcouldnotsleepthatnight…Andafterwards,Mademoiselle?”
Shemethiseyessquarely.
“Yes,”shesaid“it’sratherhorribleisn’tit?Ican’tbelievethatI—didthat!Iknownowwhatyoumeantbyopeningyourhearttoevil…Youknowprettywellhowithappened.LouisemadeitcleartoSimonthatsheknew.Simongotyoutobringmetohim.Assoonaswewerealonetogetherhetoldmewhathadhappened.HetoldmewhatI’dgottodo.Iwasn’tevenhorrified.Iwassoafraid—sodeadlyafraid…That’swhatmurderdoestoyou.SimonandIweresafe—quitesafe—exceptforthismiserableblackmailingFrenchgirl.Itookherallthemoneywecouldgetholdof.Ipretendedtogrovel.Andthen,whenshewascountingthemoney,I—didit!Itwasquiteeasy.That’swhat’ssohorribly,horriblyfrighteningaboutit…It’ssoterriblyeasy….
“Andeventhenweweren’tsafe.Mrs.Otterbournehadseenme.ShecametriumphantlyalongthedecklookingforyouandColonelRace.I’dnotimetothink.Ijustactedlikeaflash.Itwasalmostexciting.Iknewitwastouchorgothattime.Thatseemedtomakeitbetter….”
Shestoppedagain.
“Doyourememberwhenyoucameintomycabinafterwards?Yousaidyouwerenotsurewhyyouhadcome.Iwassomiserable—soterrified.IthoughtSimonwasgoingtodie….”
“AndI—washopingit,”saidPoirot.
Jacquelinenodded.
“Yes,itwouldhavebeenbetterforhimthatway.”
“Thatwasnotmythought.”
Jacquelinelookedatthesternnessofhisface.
Shesaidgently:“Don’tmindsomuchforme,MonsieurPoirot.Afterall,I’velivedhardalways,youknow.Ifwe’dwonout,I’dhavebeenveryhappyandenjoyedthingsandprobablyshouldneverhaveregrettedanything.Asitis—well,onegoesthroughwithit.”
Sheadded:“IsupposethestewardessisinattendancetoseeIdon’thangmyselforswallowamiraculouscapsuleofprussicacidaspeoplealwaysdoinbooks.Youneedn’tbeafraid!Ishan’tdothat.ItwillbeeasierforSimonifI’mstandingby.”
Poirotgotup.Jacquelinerosealso.Shesaidwithasuddensmile:“DoyourememberwhenIsaidImustfollowmystar?Yousaiditmightbeafalsestar.AndIsaid:‘Thatverybadstar,thatstarfelldown.’”
Hewentouttothedeckwithherlaughterringinginhisears.
Thirty-One
ItwasearlydawnwhentheycameintoShellal.Therockscamedowngrimlytothewater’sedge.
Poirotmurmured:“Quelpayssauvage!”
Racestoodbesidehim.“Well,”hesaid,“we’vedoneourjob.I’vearrangedforRichettitobetakenashorefirst.Gladwe’vegothim.He’sbeenaslipperycustomer,Icantellyou.Givenustheslipdozensoftimes.”
Hewenton:“WemustgetholdofastretcherforDoyle.Remarkablehowhewenttopieces.”
“Notreally,”saidPoirot.“Thatboyishtypeofcriminalisusuallyintenselyvain.Onceprickthebubbleoftheirself-esteemanditisfinished!Theygotopieceslikechildren.”
“Deservestobehanged,”saidRace.“He’sacold-bloodedscoundrel.I’msorryforthegirl—butthere’snothingtobedoneaboutit.”
Poirotshookhishead.
“Peoplesaylovejustifieseverything,butthatisnottrue…WomenwhocareformenasJacquelinecaresforSimonDoyleareverydangerous.ItiswhatIsaidwhenIsawherfirst.‘Shecarestoomuch,thatlittleone!’Itistrue.”
CorneliaRobsoncameupbesidehim.
“Oh,”shesaid,“we’renearlyin.”Shepausedaminuteortwo,thenadded,“I’vebeenwithher.”
“WithMademoiselledeBellefort?”
“Yes.Ifeltitwaskindofawfulforherboxedupwiththatstewardess.CousinMarie’sveryangry,though,I’mafraid.”
MissVanSchuylerwasprogressingslowlydownthedecktowardsthem.Hereyeswerevenomous.
“Cornelia,”shesnapped,“you’vebehavedoutrageously.Ishallsendyoustraighthome.”
Corneliatookadeepbreath.“I’msorry,CousinMarie,butI’mnotgoinghome.I’mgoingtogetmarried.”
“Soyou’veseensenseatlast,”snappedtheoldlady.
Fergusoncamestridingroundthecornerofthedeck.Hesaid:“Cornelia,what’sthisIhear?It’snottrue!”
“It’squitetrue,”saidCornelia.“I’mgoingtomarryDr.Bessner.Heaskedmelastnight.”
“Andwhyareyougoingtomarryhim?”askedFergusonfuriously.“Simplybecausehe’srich?”
“No,I’mnot,”saidCorneliaindignantly.“Ilikehim.He’skind,andheknowsalot.AndI’vealwaysbeeninterestedinsickfolksandclinics,andIshallhavejustawonderfullifewithhim.”
“Doyoumeantosay,”askedMr.Fergusonincredulously,“thatyou’drathermarrythatdisgustingoldmanthanMe?”
“Yes,Iwould.You’renotreliable!Youwouldn’tbeatallacomfortablesortofpersontolivewith.Andhe’snotold.He’snotfiftyyet.”
“He’sgotastomach,”saidMr.Fergusonvenomously.
“Well,I’vegotroundshoulders,”retortedCornelia.“Whatonelookslikedoesn’tmatter.HesaysIreallycouldhelphiminhiswork,andhe’sgoingtoteachmeallaboutneurosis.”
Shemovedaway.
FergusonsaidtoPoirot:“Doyouthinkshereallymeansthat?”
“Certainly.”
“Sheprefersthatpompousoldboretome?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Thegirl’smad,”declaredFerguson.
Poirot’seyestwinkled.
“Sheisawomanofanoriginalmind,”hesaid.“Itisprobablythefirsttimeyouhavemetone.”
Theboatdrewintothelandingstage.Acordonhadbeendrawnroundthepassengers.Theyhadbeenaskedtowaitbeforedisembarking.
Richetti,dark-facedandsullen,wasmarchedashorebytwoengineers.
Then,afteracertainamountofdelay,astretcherwasbrought.SimonDoylewascarriedalongthedecktothegangway
Helookedadifferentman—cringing,frightened,allhisboyishinsouciancevanished.
JacquelinedeBellefortfollowed.Astewardesswalkedbesideher.Shewaspalebutotherwiselookedmuchasusual.Shecameuptothestretcher.
“Hullo,Simon!”shesaid.
Helookedupatherquickly.Theoldboyishlookcamebacktohisfaceforamoment.
“Imesseditup,”hesaid.“Lostmyheadandadmittedeverything!Sorry,Jackie.I’veletyoudown.”
Shesmiledathimthen.“It’sallright,Simon,”shesaid.“Afool’sgame,andwe’velost.That’sall.”
Shestoodaside.Thebearerspickedupthehandlesofthestretcher.Jacquelinebentdownandtiedthelaceofhershoe.Thenherhandwenttoherstockingtopandshestraightenedupwithsomethinginherhand.
Therewasasharpexplosive“pop.”
SimonDoylegaveoneconvulsedshudderandthenlaystill.
JacquelinedeBellefortnodded.Shestoodforaminute,pistolinhand.ShegaveafleetingsmileatPoirot.
Then,asRacejumpedforward,sheturnedthelittleglitteringtoyagainstherheartandpressedthetrigger.
Shesankdowninasofthuddledheap.
Raceshouted:“Wherethedevildidshegetthatpistol?”
Poirotfeltahandonhisarm.Mrs.Allertonsaidsoftly,“You—knew?”
Henodded.“Shehadapairofthesepistols.IrealizedthatwhenIheardthatonehadbeenfoundinRosalieOtterbourne’shandbagthedayofthesearch.Jacquelinesatatthesametableastheydid.Whensherealizedthattherewasgoingtobeasearch,sheslippeditintotheothergirl’shandbag.LatershewenttoRosalie’scabinandgotitback,afterhavingdistractedherattentionwithacomparisonoflipsticks.Asbothsheandhercabinhadbeensearchedyesterday,itwasn’tthoughtnecessarytodoitagain.”
Mrs.Allertonsaid:“Youwantedhertotakethatwayout?”
“Yes.Butshewouldnottakeitalone.ThatiswhySimonDoylehasdiedaneasierdeaththanhedeserved.”
Mrs.Allertonshivered.“Lovecanbeaveryfrighteningthing.”
“Thatiswhymostgreatlovestoriesaretragedies.”
Mrs.Allerton’seyesresteduponTimandRosalie,standingsidebysideinthesunlight,andshesaidsuddenlyandpassionately:“ButthankGod,thereishappinessintheworld.”
“Asyousay,Madame,thankGodforit.”
Presentlythepassengerswentashore.
LaterthebodiesofLouiseBourgetandMrs.OtterbournewerecarriedofftheKarnak.
LastlythebodyofLinnetDoylewasbroughtashore,andallovertheworldwiresbegantohum,tellingthepublicthatLinnetDoyle,whohadbeenLinnetRidgeway,thefamous,thebeautiful,thewealthyLinnetDoylewasdead.
SirGeorgeWodereadaboutitinhisLondonclub,andSterndaleRockfordinNewYork,andJoannaSouthwoodinSwitzerland,anditwasdiscussedinthebaroftheThreeCrownsinMalton-under-Wode
AndMr.Burnabysaidacutely:“Well,itdoesn’tseemtohavedonehermuchgood,poorlass.”
ButafterawhiletheystoppedtalkingaboutheranddiscussedinsteadwhowasgoingtowintheGrandNational.For,asMr.FergusonwassayingatthatminuteinLuxor,itisnotthepastthatmattersbutthefuture.
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Don’tmissasingleoneofAgathaChristie’sstand-alonenovelsandshort-storycollections.
TheManintheBrownSuitTheSecretofChimneysTheSevenDialsMysteryTheMysteriousMr.QuinTheSittafordMysteryParkerPyneInvestigatesWhyDidn’tTheyAskEvans?MurderIsEasyTheRegattaMysteryandOtherStoriesAndThenThereWereNoneTowardsZeroDeathComesastheEndSparklingCyanideTheWitnessfortheProsecutionandOtherStoriesCrookedHouseThreeBlindMiceandOtherStoriesTheyCametoBaghdadDestinationUnknownOrdealbyInnocenceDoubleSinandOtherStoriesThePaleHorseStaroverBethlehem:PoemsandHolidayStoriesEndlessNightPassengertoFrankfurtTheGoldenBallandOtherStoriesTheMousetrapandOtherPlaysTheHarlequinTeaSet
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AbouttheAuthor
AgathaChristieisthemostwidelypublishedauthorofalltimeandinanylanguage,outsoldonlybytheBibleandShakespeare.HerbookshavesoldmorethanabillioncopiesinEnglishandanotherbillioninahundredforeignlanguages.Sheistheauthorofeightycrimenovelsandshort-storycollections,nineteenplays,twomemoirs,andsixnovelswrittenunderthenameMaryWestmacott.
ShefirsttriedherhandatdetectivefictionwhileworkinginahospitaldispensaryduringWorldWarI,creatingthenowlegendaryHerculePoirotwithherdebutnovelTheMysteriousAffairatStyles.WithTheMurderintheVicarage,publishedin1930,sheintroducedanotherbelovedsleuth,MissJaneMarple.Additionalseriescharactersincludethehusband-and-wifecrime-fightingteamofTommyandTuppenceBeresford,privateinvestigatorParkerPyne,andScotlandYarddetectivesSuperintendentBattleandInspectorJapp.
ManyofChristie’snovelsandshortstorieswereadaptedintoplays,films,andtelevisionseries.TheMousetrap,hermostfamousplayofall,openedin1952andisthelongest-runningplayinhistory.Amongherbest-knownfilmadaptationsareMurderontheOrientExpress(1974)andDeathontheNile(1978),withAlbertFinneyandPeterUstinovplayingHerculePoirot,respectively.OnthesmallscreenPoirothasbeenmostmemorablyportrayedbyDavidSuchet,andMissMarplebyJoanHicksonandsubsequentlyGeraldineMcEwanandJuliaMcKenzie.
ChristiewasfirstmarriedtoArchibaldChristieandthentoarchaeologistSirMaxMallowan,whomsheaccompaniedonexpeditionstocountriesthatwouldalsoserveasthesettingsformanyofhernovels.In1971sheachievedoneofBritain’shighesthonorswhenshewasmadeaDameoftheBritishEmpire.Shediedin1976attheageofeighty-five.Heronehundredandtwentiethanniversarywascelebratedaroundtheworldin2010.
www.AgathaChristie.com
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THEAGATHACHRISTIECOLLECTION
TheManintheBrownSuit
TheSecretofChimneys
TheSevenDialsMystery
TheMysteriousMr.Quin
TheSittafordMystery
ParkerPyneInvestigates
WhyDidn’tTheyAskEvans?
MurderIsEasy
TheRegattaMysteryandOtherStories
AndThenThereWereNone
TowardsZero
DeathComesastheEnd
SparklingCyanide
TheWitnessfortheProsecutionandOtherStories
CrookedHouse
ThreeBlindMiceandOtherStories
TheyCametoBaghdad
DestinationUnknown
OrdealbyInnocence
DoubleSinandOtherStories
ThePaleHorse
StaroverBethlehem:PoemsandHolidayStories
EndlessNight
PassengertoFrankfurt
TheGoldenBallandOtherStories
TheMousetrapandOtherPlays
TheHarlequinTeaSet
TheHerculePoirotMysteries
TheMysteriousAffairatStyles
TheMurderontheLinks
PoirotInvestigates
TheMurderofRogerAckroyd
TheBigFour
TheMysteryoftheBlueTrain
PerilatEndHouse
LordEdgwareDies
MurderontheOrientExpress
ThreeActTragedy
DeathintheClouds
TheA.B.C.Murders
MurderinMesopotamia
CardsontheTable
MurderintheMewsandOtherStories
DumbWitness
DeathontheNile
AppointmentwithDeath
HerculePoirot’sChristmas
SadCypress
One,Two,BuckleMyShoe
EvilUndertheSun
FiveLittlePigs
TheHollow
TheLaborsofHercules
TakenattheFlood
TheUnderdogandOtherStories
Mrs.McGinty’sDead
AftertheFuneral
HickoryDickoryDock
DeadMan’sFolly
CatAmongthePigeons
TheClocks
ThirdGirl
Hallowe’enParty
ElephantsCanRemember
Curtain:Poirot’sLastCase
TheMissMarpleMysteries
TheMurderattheVicarage
TheBodyintheLibrary
TheMovingFinger
AMurderIsAnnounced
TheyDoItwithMirrors
APocketFullofRye
4:50fromPaddington
TheMirrorCrack’d
ACaribbeanMystery
AtBertram’sHotel
Nemesis
SleepingMurder
MissMarple:TheCompleteShortStoryCollection
TheTommyandTuppenceMysteries
TheSecretAdversary
PartnersinCrime
NorM?
BythePrickingofMyThumbs
PosternofFate
Copyright
Thisbookisaworkoffiction.Thecharacters,incidents,anddialoguearedrawnfromtheauthor’simaginationandarenottobeconstruedasreal.Anyresemblancetoactualeventsorpersons,livingordead,isentirelycoincidental.
AGATHACHRISTIE?POIROT?DEATHONTHENILE?.Copyright?2011AgathaChristieLimited(aChorioncompany).Allrightsreserved.DeathontheNilewasfirstpublishedin1937.
DEATHONTHENILE?1938.PublishedbypermissionofG.P.Putnam’sSons,amemberofPenguinGroup(USA)Inc.AllrightsreservedunderInternationalandPan-AmericanCopyrightConventions.Bypaymentoftherequiredfees,youhavebeengrantedthenonexclusive,nontransferablerighttoaccessandreadthetextofthise-bookon-screen.Nopartofthistextmaybereproduced,transmitted,downloaded,decompiled,reverse-engineered,orstoredinorintroducedintoanyinformationstorageandretrievalsystem,inanyformorbyanymeans,whetherelectronicormechanical,nowknownorhereinafterinvented,withouttheexpresswrittenpermissionofHarperCollinse-books.