Смерть на Ниле / Death on the Nile. Агата Кристи

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СКАЧАТЬ God!’ The young man seemed seriously taken aback. ‘Do you mean that girl actually totes about a dumb dick? Is she as careful of her precious skin as that?’

      ‘I have no connection whatever with Monsieur and Madame Doyle,’ said Poirot stiffly. ‘I am on a holiday.’

      ‘Enjoying a vacation – eh?’

      ‘And you? Is it not that you are on holiday also?’

      ‘Holiday!’ Mr Ferguson snorted. Then he added cryptically: ‘I’m studying conditions.’

      ‘Very interesting,’ murmured Poirot and moved gently out on to the deck.

      Miss Van Schuyler was established in the best corner. Cornelia knelt in front of her, her arms outstretched with a skein of grey wool upon them. Miss Bowers was sitting very upright reading the Saturday Evening Post.

      Poirot wandered gently onward down the starboard deck. As he passed round the stern of the boat he almost ran into a woman who turned a startled face towards him – a dark, piquant, Latin face. She was neatly dressed in black and had been standing talking to a big burly man in uniform – one of the engineers, by the look of him. There was a queer expression on both their faces – guilt and alarm. Poirot wondered what they had been talking about.

      He rounded the stern and continued his walk along the port side. A cabin door opened and Mrs Otterbourne emerged and nearly fell into his arms. She was wearing a scarlet satin dressing gown.

      ‘So sorry,’ she apologized. ‘Dear Mr Poirot – so very sorry. The motion – just the motion, you know. Never did have any sea legs. If the boat would only keep still…’ She clutched at his arm. ‘It’s the pitching I can’t stand… Never really happy at sea… And left all alone here hour after hour. That girl of mine – no sympathy – no understanding of her poor old mother who’s done everything for her…’ Mrs Otterbourne began to weep. ‘Slaved for her I have – worn myself to the bone – to the bone. A grande amoureuse – that’s what I might have been – a grande amoureuse – sacrificed everything – everything… And nobody cares! But I’ll tell everyone – I’ll tell them now – how she neglects me – how hard she is – making me come on this journey – bored to death… I’ll go and tell them now-’

      She surged forward. Poirot gently repressed the action.

      ‘I will send her to you, Madame. Re-enter your cabin. It is best that way-’

      ‘No. I want to tell everyone – everyone on the boat-’

      ‘It is too dangerous, Madame. The sea is too rough. You might be swept overboard.’

      Mrs Otterbourne looked at him doubtfully.

      ‘You think so. You really think so?’

      ‘I do.’

      He was successful. Mrs Otterbourne wavered, faltered and re-entered her cabin.

      Poirot’s nostrils twitched once or twice. Then he nodded and walked on to where Rosalie Otterbourne was sitting between Mrs Allerton and Tim.

      ‘Your mother wants you, Mademoiselle.’

      She had been laughing quite happily. Now her face clouded over. She shot a quick suspicious look at him and hurried along the deck.

      ‘I can’t make that child out,’ said Mrs Allerton. ‘She varies so. One day she’s friendly – the next day, she’s positively rude.’

      ‘Thoroughly spoilt and bad-tempered,’ said Tim.

      Mrs Allerton shook her head.

      ‘No. I don’t think it’s that. I think she’s unhappy.’

      Tim shrugged his shoulders.

      ‘Oh, well, I suppose we’ve all got our private troubles.’ His voice sounded hard and curt.

      A booming noise was heard.

      ‘Lunch,’ cried Mrs Allerton delightedly. ‘I’m starving.’

      That evening, Poirot noticed that Mrs Allerton was sitting talking to Miss Van Schuyler. As he passed, Mrs Allerton closed one eye and opened it again.

      She was saying, ‘Of course at Calfries Castle – the dear Duke-’

      Cornelia, released from attendance, was out on the deck. She was listening to Dr Bessner, who was instructing her somewhat ponderously in Egyptology as culled from the pages of Baedeker. Cornelia listened with rapt attention.

      Leaning over the rail Tim Allerton was saying:

      ‘Anyhow, it’s a rotten world…’

      Rosalie Otterbourne answered:

      ‘It’s unfair… some people have everything.’

      Poirot sighed. He was glad that he was no longer young.

      Chapter 9

      On the Monday morning various expressions of delight and appreciation were heard on the deck of the Karnak. The steamer was moored to the bank and a few hundred yards away, the morning sun just striking it, was a great temple carved out of the face of the rock. Four colossal figures, hewn out of the cliff, look out eternally over the Nile and face the rising sun.

      Cornelia Robson said incoherently:

      ‘Oh, Monsieur Poirot, isn’t it wonderful? I mean they’re so big and peaceful – and looking at them makes one feel that one’s so small – and rather like an insect – and that nothing matters very much really, does it?’

      Mr Fanthorp, who was standing near by, murmured,

      ‘Very – er – impressive.’

      ‘Grand, isn’t it?’ said Simon Doyle, strolling up. He went on confidentially to Poirot: ‘You know, I’m not much of a fellow for temples and sightseeing and all that, but a place like this sort of gets you, if you know what I mean. Those old Pharaohs must have been wonderful fellows.’

      The other had drifted away. Simon lowered his voice.

      ‘I’m no end glad we came on this trip. It’s – well, it’s cleared things up. Amazing why it should – but there it is. Linnet’s got her nerve back. She says it’s because she’s actually faced the business at last.’

      ‘I think that is very probable,’ said Poirot.

      ‘She says that when she actually saw Jackie on the boat she felt terrible – and then, suddenly, it didn’t matter any more. We’re both agreed that we won’t try to dodge her any more. We’ll just meet her on her own ground and show her that this ridiculous stunt of hers doesn’t worry us a bit. It’s just damned bad form – that’s all. She thought she’d got us badly rattled – but now, well, we just aren’t rattled any more. That ought to show her.’

      ‘Yes,’ said Poirot thoughtfully.

      ‘So that’s splendid, isn’t it?’

      ‘Oh, yes, yes.’

      Linnet СКАЧАТЬ