Death on the Nile. Агата Кристи

that I’m quite thrilled to meet you. When we were in Majorca, there was a Mrs Leech there, and she was telling us the most wonderful things about you. She’d lost a ruby ring bathing, and she was just lamenting that you weren’t there to find it for her.

      ‘Ah, parbleu, but I am not the diving seal!’

      They both laughed.

      Mrs Allerton went on.

      ‘I saw you from my window walking down the drive with Simon Doyle this morning. Do tell me what you make of him! We’re so excited about him.’

      ‘Ah? Truly?’

      ‘Yes. You know his marriage to Linnet Ridgeway was the greatest surprise. She was supposed to be going to marry Lord Windlesham and then suddenly she gets engaged to this man no one had ever heard of!’

      ‘You know her well, Madame?’

      ‘No, but a cousin of mine, Joanna Southwood, is one of her best friends.’

      ‘Ah, yes, I have read that name in the papers.’ He was silent a moment and then went on, ‘She is a young lady very much in the news, Mademoiselle Joanna Southwood.’

      ‘Oh, she knows how to advertise herself all right,’ snapped Mrs Allerton.

      ‘You do not like her, Madame?’

      ‘That was a nasty remark of mine.’ Mrs Allerton looked penitent. ‘You see I’m old-fashioned. I don’t like her much. Tim and she are the greatest of friends, though.’

      ‘I see,’ said Poirot.

      His companion shot a quick look at him. She changed the subject.

      ‘How very few young people there are out here! That pretty girl with the chestnut hair and the appalling mother in the turban is almost the only young creature in the place. You have talked to her a good deal, I notice. She interests me, that child.’

      ‘Why is that, Madame?’

      ‘I feel sorry for her. You can suffer so much when you are young and sensitive. I think she is suffering.’

      ‘Yes, she is not happy, poor little one.’

      ‘Tim and I call her the “sulky girl”. I’ve tried to talk to her once or twice, but she’s snubbed me on each occasion. However, I believe she’s going on this Nile trip too, and I expect we’ll have to be more or less all matey together, shan’t we?’

      ‘It is a possible contingency, Madame.’

      ‘I’m very matey really–people interest me enormously. All the different types.’ She paused, then said: ‘Tim tells me that that dark girl–her name is de Bellefort–is the girl who was engaged to Simon Doyle. It’s rather awkward for them–meeting like this.’

      ‘It is awkward–yes,’ agreed Poirot.

      ‘You know, it may sound foolish, but she almost frightened me. She looked so–intense.’

      Poirot nodded his head slowly.

      ‘You were not far wrong, Madame. A great force of emotion is always frightening.’

      ‘Do people interest you too, Monsieur Poirot? Or do you reserve your interest for potential criminals?’

      ‘Madame–that category would not leave many people outside it.’

      Mrs Allerton looked a trifle startled.

      ‘Do you really mean that?’

      ‘Given the particular incentive, that is to say,’ Poirot added.

      ‘Which would differ?’

      ‘Naturally.’

      Mrs Allerton hesitated–a little smile on her lips.

      ‘Even I perhaps?’

      ‘Mothers, Madame, are particularly ruthless when their children are in danger.’

      She said gravely, ‘I think that’s true–yes, you’re quite right.’

      She was silent a minute or two, then she said, smiling: I’m trying to imagine motives for crime suitable for everyone in the hotel. It’s quite entertaining. Simon Doyle, for instance?’

      Poirot said, smiling: ‘A very simple crime–a direct short-cut to his objective. No subtlety about it.’

      ‘And therefore very easily detected?’

      ‘Yes; he would not be ingenious.’

      ‘And Linnet?’

      ‘That would be like the Queen in your Alice in Wonderland, “Off with her head.”’

      ‘Of course. The divine right of monarchy! Just a little bit of the Naboth’s vineyard touch. And the dangerous girl–Jacqueline de Bellefort–could she do a murder?’

      Poirot hesitated for a minute or two, then he said doubtfully, ‘Yes, I think she could.’

      ‘But you’re not sure?’

      ‘No. She puzzles me, that little one.’

      ‘I don’t think Mr Pennington could do one, do you? He looks so desiccated and dyspeptic–with no red blood in him.’

      ‘But possibly a strong sense of self-preservation.’

      ‘Yes, I suppose so. And poor Mrs Otterbourne in her turban?’

      ‘There is always vanity.’

      ‘As a motive for murder?’ Mrs Allerton asked doubtfully.

      ‘Motives for murder are sometimes very trivial, Madame.’

      ‘What are the most usual motives, Monsieur Poirot?’

      ‘Most frequent–money. That is to say, gain in its various ramifications. Then there is revenge–and love, and fear, and pure hate, and beneficence–’

      ‘Monsieur Poirot!’

      ‘Oh, yes, Madame. I have known of–shall we say A?–being removed by B solely in order to benefit C. Political murders often come under the same heading. Someone is considered to be harmful to civilization and is removed on that account. Such people forget that life and death are the affair of the good God.’