Read Appointment with Death Online
Authors: Agatha Christie
âRaymond Boynton said that!'
The exclamation broke from the Frenchman.
âYou think it unlikelyâpsychologically speaking?' Poirot inquired placidly.
Gerard shook his head.
âNo, I should not say that. I was surprised, yes. If you follow me, I was surprised just because Raymond Boynton was so eminently fitted to be a suspect.'
Colonel Carbury sighed. âThese psychological fellers!' the sigh seemed to say.
âQuestion is,' he murmured, âwhat are we going to do about it?'
Gerard shrugged his shoulders.
âI do not see what you can do,' he confessed. âThe evidence is bound to be inconclusive. You may know that murder has been done but it will be difficult to prove it.'
âI see,' said Colonel Carbury. âWe suspect that murder's been done and we just sit back and twiddle our fingers! Don't like it!' He added, as if in extenuation, his former odd plea, âI'm a tidy man.'
âI know. I know.' Poirot nodded his head sympathetically. âYou would like to clear this up. You would like to know definitely, exactly what occurred and how it occurred. And you, Dr Gerard? You have said that there is nothing to be doneâthat the evidence is bound to be inconclusive? That is probably true. But are you satisfied that the matter should rest so?'
âShe was a bad life,' said Gerard slowly. âIn any case, she might have died very shortlyâa weekâa monthâa year.'
âSo you are satisfied?' persisted Poirot.
Gerard went on:
âThere is no doubt that her death wasâhow shall we put it?âbeneficial to the community. It has brought freedom to her family. They will have scope to developâthey are all, I think, people of good character and intelligence. They will beânowâuseful members of society! The death of Mrs Boynton, as I see it, has resulted in nothing but good.'
Poirot repeated for the third time: âSo you are satisfied?'
âNo.' Gerard pounded a fist suddenly on the table. âI am
not
“satisfied”, as you put it! It is my instinct to
preserve lifeânot to hasten death. Therefore, though my conscious mind may repeat that this woman's death was a good thing, my unconscious mind rebels against it!
It is not well, gentlemen, that a human being should die before her time has come
.'
Poirot smiled. He leaned back contented with the answer he had probed for so patiently.
Colonel Carbury said unemotionally: âHe don't like murder! Quite right! No more do I.'
He rose and poured himself out a stiff whisky and soda. His guests' glasses were still full.
âAnd now,' he said, returning to the subject, âlet's get down to brass tacks.
Is there anything to be done about it?
We don't like itâno! But we may have to lump it! No good making a fuss if you can't deliver the goods.'
Gerard leaned forward. âWhat is your professional opinion, M. Poirot? You are the expert.'
Poirot took a little time to speak. Methodically he arranged an ash-tray or two and made a little heap of used matches. Then he said:
âYou desire to know, do you not, Colonel Carbury,
who killed Mrs Boynton?
(That is if she
was
killed and did not die a natural death.) Exactly
how and when
she was killedâand in fact the whole truth of the matter?'
âI should like to know that, yes.' Carbury spoke unemotionally.
Hercule Poirot said slowly: âI see no reason why you should not know it!'
Dr Gerard looked incredulous. Colonel Carbury looked mildly interested.
âOh,' he said. âSo you don't, don't you? That's interestin'. How d'you propose to set about it?'
âBy methodical sifting of the evidence, by a process of reasoning.'
âSuits me,' said Colonel Carbury.
âAnd by a study of the psychological possibilities.'
âSuits Dr Gerard, I expect,' said Carbury. âAnd after thatâafter you've sifted the evidence and done some reasoning and paddled in psychologyâ
hey presto!
âyou think you can produce the rabbit out of the hat?'
âI should be extremely surprised if I could not do so,' said Poirot calmly.
Colonel Carbury stared at him over the rim of his glass. Just for a moment the vague eyes were no longer vagueâthey measuredâand appraised.
He put down his glass with a grunt.
âWhat do you say to that, Dr Gerard?'
âI admit that I am skeptical of successâ¦Yes, I know that M. Poirot has great powers.'
âI am giftedâyes,' said the little man. He smiled modestly.
Colonel Carbury turned away his head and coughed.
Poirot said: âThe first thing to decide is whether this
is a composite murderâplanned and carried out by the Boynton family as a whole, or whether it is the work of one of them only. If the latter, which is the most likely member of the family to have attempted it.'
Dr Gerard said: âThere is your own evidence. One must, I think, consider first Raymond Boynton.'
âI agree,' said Poirot. âThe words I overheard and the discrepancy between his evidence and that of the young woman doctor puts him definitely in the forefront of the suspects.'
âHe was the last person to see Mrs Boynton alive. That is his own story. Sarah King contradicts that. Tell me, Dr Gerard, is thereâeh?âyou know what I meanâa little
tendresse
, shall we sayâthere?'
The Frenchman nodded. âEmphatically so.'
âAha! Is she, this young lady, a brunette with hair that goes back from her foreheadâsoâand big hazel eyes and a manner very decided?'
Dr Gerard looked rather surprised.
âYes, that describes her very well.'
âI think I have seen herâin the Solomon Hotel. She spoke to this Raymond Boynton and afterwards he remained
plantélÃ
âin a dreamâblocking the exit from the lift. Three times I had to say “Pardon” before he heard me and moved.'
He remained in thought for some moments. Then
he said: âSo, to begin with, we will accept the medical evidence of Miss Sarah King with certain mental reservations. She is an interested party.' He pausedâthen went on: âTell me, Dr Gerard, do you think Raymond Boynton is of the temperament that could commit murder easily?'
Gerard said slowly: âYou mean deliberate planned murder? Yes, I think it is possibleâbut only under conditions of intense emotional strain.'
âThose conditions were present?'
âDefinitely. This journey abroad undoubtedly heightened the nervous and mental strain under which all these people were living. The contrast between their own lives and those of other people was more apparent to them. And in Raymond Boynton's caseâ'
âYes?'
âThere was the additional complication of being strongly attracted to Sarah King.'
âThat would give him an additional motive? And an additional stimulus?'
âThat is so.'
Colonel Carbury coughed.
âLike to butt in a moment. That sentence of his you overheard, “
You do see, don't you, that she's got to be killed?
” Must have been spoken to someone.'
âA good point,' said Poirot. âI had not forgotten it. Yes, to whom was Raymond Boynton speaking?
Undoubtedly to a member of his family. But which member? Can you tell us something, Doctor, of the mental condition of the other members of the family?'
Gerard replied promptly:
âCarol Boynton was, I should say, in very much the same state as Raymondâa state of rebellion accompanied by a severe nervous excitement, but uncomplicated in her case by the introduction of a sex factor. Lennox Boynton had passed the stage of revolt. He was sunk in apathy. He was finding it, I think, difficult to concentrate. His method of reaction to his surroundings was to retire further and further within himself. He was definitely an introvert.'
âAnd his wife?'
âHis wife, though tired and unhappy, showed no signs of mental conflict. She was, I believe, hesitating on the brink of a decision.'
âSuch a decision being?'
âWhether or not to leave her husband.'
He repeated the conversation he had held with Jefferson Cope. Poirot nodded in comprehension.
âAnd what of the younger girlâGinevra her name is, is it not?'
The Frenchman's face was grave. He said:
âI should say that mentally she is in an extremely dangerous condition. She has already begun to display symptoms of schizophrenia. Unable to bear the
suppression of her life, she is escaping into a realm of fantasy. She has advanced delusions of persecutionâthat is to say, she claims to be a royal personageâin dangerâenemies surrounding herâall the usual things!'
âAnd thatâis dangerous?'
âVery dangerous. It is the beginning of what is often homicidal mania. The sufferer killsânot for the lust of killingâbut
in self-defence
. He or she kills in order not to be killed themselves. From their point of view it is eminently rational.'
âSo you think that Ginevra Boynton might have killed her mother?'
âYes. But I doubt if she would have had the knowledge or the constructiveness to do it the way it was done. The cunning of that class of mania is usually very simple and obvious. And I am almost certain she would have chosen a more spectacular method.'
âBut she is a
possibility?
' Poirot insisted.
âYes,' admitted Gerard.
âAnd afterwardsâwhen the deed was done?
Do you think the rest of the family knew who had done it?
'
âThey know!' said Colonel Carbury unexpectedly. âIf ever I came across a bunch of people who had something to hideâthese are they! They're putting something over all right.'
âWe will make them tell us what it is,' said Poirot.
âThird degree?' said Colonel Carbury.
âNo.' Poirot shook his head. âJust ordinary conversation. On the whole, you know, people tell you the truth. Because it is easier! Because it is less strain on the inventive faculties! You can tell one lieâor two liesâor three liesâor even four liesâ
but you cannot lie all the time
. And soâthe truth becomes plain.'
âSomething in that,' agreed Carbury.
Then he said bluntly: âYou'll talk to them, you say? That means you're willing to take this on.'
Poirot bowed his head.
âLet us be very clear about this,' he said. âWhat you demand, and what I undertake to supply, is the truth. But mark this, even when we have got the truth, there may be no
proof
. That is to say, no proof that would be accepted in a court of law. You comprehend?'
âQuite,' said Carbury. âYou satisfy me of what really happened. Then it's up to me to decide whether action is possible or notâhaving regard to the international aspects. Anyway, it will be cleared upâno mess. Don't like mess.'
Poirot smiled.
âOne thing more,' said Carbury. âI can't give you much time. Can't detain these people here indefinitely.'
Poirot said quietly:
âYou can detain them twenty-four hours. You shall have the truth by tomorrow night.'
Colonel Carbury stared hard at him.
âPretty confident, aren't you?' he asked.
âI know my own ability,' murmured Poirot.
Rendered uncomfortable by this un-British attitude, Colonel Carbury looked away and fingered his untidy moustaches.
âWell,' he mumbled, âit's up to you.'
âAnd if you succeed, my friend,' said Dr Gerard, âyou are indeed a marvel!'
Sarah King looked long and searchingly at Hercule Poirot. She noted the egg-shaped head, the gigantic moustaches, the dandified appearance and the suspicious blackness of his hair. A look of doubt crept into her eyes. âWell, mademoiselle, are you satisfied?'
Sarah flushed as she met the amused ironical glance of his eyes.
âI beg your pardon,' she said awkwardly.
â
Du tout
! To use an expression I have recently learnt, you give me the once-over, is it not so?'
Sarah smiled a little. âWell, at any rate, you can do the same to me,' she said.
âAssuredly. I have not neglected to do so.'
She glanced at him sharply. Something in his tone. But Poirot was twirling his moustaches complacently, and Sarah thought (for the second time), âThe man's a mountebank!'
Her self-confidence restored, she sat up a little straighter and said inquiringly: âI don't think I quite understand the object of this interview?'
âThe good Dr Gerard did not explain?'
Sarah said frowning: âI don't understand Dr Gerard. He seems to thinkâ'
âSomething is rotten in the state of Denmark,' quoted Poirot. âYou see, I know your Shakespeare.'
Sarah waved aside Shakespeare.
âWhat exactly is all this fuss about?' she demanded.
â
Eh bien
, one wants, does one not, to get at the truth of this affair?'
âAre you talking about Mrs Boynton's death?'
âYes.'
âIsn't it rather a fuss about nothing? You, of course, are a specialist, M. Poirot. It is natural for youâ'
Poirot finished the sentence for her.
âIt is natural for me to suspect crime whenever I can possibly find an excuse for doing so?'
âWellâyesâperhaps.'
âYou have no doubt yourself as to Mrs Boynton's death?'
Sarah shrugged her shoulders.
âReally, M. Poirot, if you had been to Petra you would realize that the journey there was a somewhat strenuous business for an old woman whose cardiac condition was unsatisfactory.'
âIt seems a perfectly straight forward business to you?'
âCertainly. I can't understand Dr Gerard's attitude. He didn't even know anything about it. He was down with fever. I'd bow to his superior medical knowledge naturallyâin this case he had nothing whatever to go on. I suppose they can have a P.M. in Jerusalem if they likeâif they're not satisfied with my verdict.'
Poirot was silent for a moment, then he said:
âThere is a fact, Miss King, that you do not yet know. Dr Gerard has not told you of it.'
âWhat fact?' demanded Sarah.
âA supply of a drugâdigitoxinâis missing from Dr Gerard's travelling medicine case.'
âOh!' Quickly Sarah took in this new aspect of the case. Equally quickly she pounced on the one doubtful point.
âIs Dr Gerard quite sure of that?'
Poirot shrugged his shoulders.
âA doctor, as you should know, mademoiselle, is usually fairly careful in making his statements.'
âOh, of course. That goes without saying. But Dr Gerard had malaria at the time.'
âThat is so, of course.'
âHas he any idea when it could have been taken?'
âHe had occasion to go to his case on the night of his arrival in Petra. He wanted some phenacetinâas his head was aching badly. When he replaced the
phenacetin the following morning and shut up the case he is almost certain that all the drugs were intact.'
âAlmostâ' said Sarah.
Poirot shrugged.
âYes, there is a doubt! There is the doubt that any man, who is honest, would be likely to feel.'
Sarah nodded. âYes, I know. One always distrusts those people who are
over
sure. But all the same, M. Poirot, the evidence
is
very slight. It seems to meâ' She paused. Poirot finished the sentence for her.
âIt seems to you that an inquiry on my part is ill-advised!'
Sarah looked him squarely in the face.
âFrankly, it does. Are you sure, M. Poirot, that this is not a case of Roman Holiday?'
Poirot smiled. âThe private lives of a family upset and disturbedâso that Hercule Poirot can play a little game of detection to amuse himself?'
âI didn't mean to be offensiveâbut isn't it a little like that?'
âYou, then, are on the side of the
famille
Boynton, mademoiselle?'
âI think I am. They've suffered a good deal. Theyâthey oughtn't to have to stand any more.'
âAnd
la Maman
, she was unpleasant, tyrannical, disagreeable and decidedly better dead than alive? That alsoâ
hein
?'
âWhen you put it like thatâ' Sarah paused, flushed, went on: âOne shouldn't, I agree, take that into consideration.'
âBut all the sameâone does! That is,
you
do, mademoiselle! Iâdo not! To me it is all the same. The victim may be one of the good God's saintsâor, on the contraryâa monster of infamy. It moves me not. The fact is the same. A lifeâtaken! I say it alwaysâI do not approve of murder.'
âMurder?' Sarah drew in her breath sharply. âBut what evidence of that is there? The flimsiest imaginable! Dr Gerard himself cannot be sure!'
Poirot said quietly: âBut there is other evidence, mademoiselle.'
âWhat evidence?' Her voice was sharp.
â
The mark of a hypodermic puncture upon the dead woman's wrist
. And something more stillâ
some words that I overheard spoken in Jerusalem
on a clear, still night when I went to close my bedroom window. Shall I tell you what those words were, Miss King? They were these. I heard Mr Raymond Boynton say: “
You do see, don't you, that she's got to be killed?
”'
He saw the colour drain slowly from Sarah's face.
She said: â
You heard that?
'
âYes.'
The girl stared straight ahead of her.
She said at last: âIt would be you who heard it!'
He acquiesced.
âYes, it would be me. These things happen. You see now why I think there should be an investigation?'
Sarah said quietly: âI think you are quite right.'
âAh! And you will help me?'
âCertainly.'
Her tone was matter-of-factâunemotional. Her eyes met his coolly.
Poirot bowed. âThank you, mademoiselle. Now I will ask you to tell me in your own words exactly what you can remember of that particular day.'
Sarah considered for a moment.
âLet me see. I went on an expedition in the morning. None of the Boyntons were with us. I saw them at lunch. They were finishing as we came in. Mrs Boynton seemed in an unusually good temper.'
âShe was not usually amiable, I understand.'
âVery far from it,' said Sarah with a slight grimace.
She then described how Mrs Boynton had released her family from attendance on her.
âThat too, was unusual?'
âYes. She usually kept them around her.'
âDo you think, perhaps, that she suddenly felt remorsefulâthat she had what is calledâ
un bon moment
?'
âNo, I don't,' said Sarah bluntly.
âWhat did you think, then?'
âI was puzzled. I suspected it was something of the cat-and-mouse order.'
âIf you would elaborate, mademoiselle?'
âA cat enjoys letting a mouse awayâand then catching it again. Mrs Boynton had that kind of mentality. I thought she was up to some new devilry or other.'
âWhat happened next, mademoiselle?'
âThe Boyntons started offâ'
âAll of them?'
âNo, the youngest, Ginevra, was left behind. She was told to go and rest.'
âDid she wish to do so?'
âNo. But that didn't matter. She did what she was told. The others started off. Dr Gerard and I joined themâ'
âWhen was this?'
âAbout half-past three.'
âWhere was Mrs Boynton then?'
âNadineâyoung Mrs Boyntonâhad settled her in her chair outside her cave.'
âProceed.'
âWhen we got round the bend, Dr Gerard and I caught up the others. We all walked together. Then, after a while, Dr Gerard turned back. He had been looking rather queer for some time. I could see he had fever. I wanted to go back with him, but he wouldn't hear of it.'
âWhat time was this?'
âOh! about four, I suppose.'
âAnd the rest?'
âWe went on.'
âWere you all together?'
âAt first. Then we split up.' Sarah hurried on as though foreseeing the next question. âNadine Boynton and Mr Cope went one way and Carol, Lennox, Raymond and I went another.'
âAnd you continued like that?'
âWellâno. Raymond Boynton and I separated from the others. We sat down on a slab of rock and admired the wildness of the scenery. Then he went off and I stayed where I was for some time longer. It was about half-past five when I looked at my watch and realized I had better get back. I reached the camp at six o'clock. It was just about sunset.'
âYou passed Mrs Boynton on the way?'
âI noticed she was still in her chair up on the ridge.'
âThat did not strike you as oddâthat she had not moved?'
âNo, because I had seen her sitting there the night before when we arrived.'
âI see.
Continuez
.'
âI went into the marquee. The others were all thereâexcept Dr Gerard. I washed and then came back. They brought in dinner and one of the servants went to tell
Mrs Boynton. He came running back to say she was ill. I hurried out. She was sitting in her chair just as she had been, but as soon as I touched her I realized she was dead.'
âYou had no doubt at all as to her death being natural?'
âNone whatever. I had heard that she suffered from heart trouble, though no specified disease had been mentioned.'
âYou simply thought she had died sitting there in her chair?'
âYes.'
âWithout calling out for assistance?'
âYes. It happens that way sometimes. She might even have died in her sleep. She was quite likely to have dozed off. In any case, all the camp was asleep most of the afternoon. No one would have heard her unless she had called very loud.'
âDid you form an opinion as to how long she had been dead?'
âWell, I didn't really think very much about it. She had clearly been dead some time.'
âWhat do you call some time?' asked Poirot.
âWellâover an hour. It might have been much longer. The refraction of the rock would keep her body from cooling quickly.'
âOver an hour? Are you aware, Mademoiselle King,
that Raymond Boynton spoke to her only a little over half an hour earlier, and that she was then alive and well?'
Now her eyes no longer met his. But she shook her head. âHe must have made a mistake. It must have been earlier than that.'
âNo, mademoiselle, it was not.'
She looked at him point-blank. He noticed again the firm set of her mouth.
âWell,' said Sarah, âI'm young and I haven't got much experience of dead bodiesâbut I know enough to be quite sure of one thing. Mrs Boynton had been dead
at least
an hour when I examined her body!'
âThat,' said Hercule Poirot unexpectedly, âis your story and you are going to stick to it! Then can you explain
why
Mr Boynton should say his mother was alive when she was, in point of fact, dead?'
âI've no idea,' said Sarah. âThey're probably rather vague about times, all of them! They're a very nervy family.'
âOn how many occasions, mademoiselle, have you spoken with them?'
Sarah was silent a moment, frowning a little.
âI can tell you exactly,' she said. âI talked to Raymond Boynton in the wagons-lits corridor coming to Jerusalem. I had two conversations with Carol Boyntonâone at the Mosque of Omar and one late that evening in
my bedroom. I had a conversation with Mrs Lennox Boynton the following morning. That's allâup to the afternoon of Mrs Boynton's death, when we all went walking together.'
âYou did not have any conversation with Mrs Boynton herself?'
Sarah flushed uncomfortably.
âYes. I exchanged a few words with her on the day she left Jerusalem.' She paused and then blurted out: âAs a matter of fact, I made a fool of myself.'
âAh?'
The interrogation was so patent that, stiffly and unwillingly, Sarah gave an account of the conversation.
Poirot seemed interested and cross-examined her closely.
âThe mentality of Mrs Boyntonâit is very important in this case,' he said. âAnd you are an outsiderâan unbiased observer. That is why your account of her is very significant.'
Sarah did not reply. She still felt hot and uncomfortable when she thought of that interview.
âThank you, mademoiselle,' said Poirot. âI will now converse with the other witnesses.'
Sarah rose. âExcuse me, M. Poirot, but if I might make a suggestionâ'
âCertainly. Certainly.'
âWhy not postpone all this until an autopsy can be
made and you discover whether or not your suspicions are justified? I think all this is rather like putting the cart before the horse.'
Poirot waved a grandiloquent hand. âThis is the method of Hercule Poirot,' he announced.
Pressing her lips together, Sarah left the room.