Death on the Nile- Part 1

Death on the Nile

AGATHA CHRISTIE Level 5

Retold by Nancy Taylor

Series Editors : Andy Hopkins and Jocelyn Potter

Chapter 1 Egypt! An Exce ll ent Dest i nat i on! 1

Chapter 2 Who's Who on the Ni l e 11

Chapter 3 Tragedy Strikes 33

C h apter 4 Everyone is a S u spect 44

Chapter 5 T h e Truth is Discovered 62 Activities 89

(She cares too much) that little one/ Poirot said to hirnself. (It is not safe. No, it is not safe. J

Early in this extremely popular mystery story, Agatha Christie's most famous detective, Hercule Poirot, observes an imbalance in the relationship between two young lovers in a London restaurant. He fears - and we, the readers, fear with hin1 - that there is danger ahead. Fron1 the beginning of the novel, the author carefully builds a complicated plot that mixes murder and love, theft and politics. We are presented with an exciting adventure story that, like all great murder mysteries, keeps us guessing until the final pages. Look for clues as you read, but be prepared for more than a few surprises!

Born in the town of Torquay in the south of England on 15 September 1890, Dame* Agatha Christie was the leading British writer of mystery novels during her lifetime, and has remained extraordinarily popular since her death in 1976. Her books have been translated into many languages, and her play The Mousetrap has run continuously in London for more than fifty years. How did she becon1e such an an1azing and longlasting success?

As a child, Agatha Christie was given the freedom to discover the world and her talent. She was educated at home, taught herself to read, and could choose her own books and form her own ideas. At the age of sixteen she went to her first formal school, in Paris, to complete her education.

Later in life Dame Agatha said that she had not planned to be

* Dame : a title giv e n to a wo1nan as a sp ec ial honour for h e r work

a vvriter, but by the time she was eleven years old she had already had a poen1 printed in the local newspaper, and before she was twenty several more of her poems had been published in The Po et ry R ev iew and she had written a number of short stories.

In 1914 the First World War began and Agatha married Archibald Christie. She worked in a hospital during th e war, and from this experience she gained knowledge of poisons. This proved useful when she started writing detective stories: fortyone of her novels and twenty-four short stories contain murder by poison! At about the same time as the Christies' only child, Rosalind, was born in 1919, Agatha's sister encouraged her to begin a serious writing career. She recognised Agatha's ability and dared her to write a mystery novel.

The young writer decided that she needed a detective and, as in the war-time hospital, she noticed details in the world around her. At the time her home town was full of former First World War officers and soldiers from Belgium, and Agatha decided that one of them would make the perfect model for Hercule Poirot. He starred in her first detective novel, Th e Mysterious Affair at Styles (1920).

Over the years Agatha Christie wrote about several different detectives, but Poirot had no equal in the hearts of her readers until she created Miss Marple, based partly on her own grandmother. She did not plan to put Miss Marple into a series of books, but the publi c loved her and she eventually appeared in twelve Christie novels and twenty short stories.

Agatha Christie wrote no fewer than sixty-six detective novels and several plays in addition to the record-breaking The Mousetrap, as well as six novels using the name Mary Westrnacott. Her extraordinary success was the result of a simple method: Christie wrote about the world she knew, noticing every detail about real, ordinary p eo pl e and place s. An idea for a new novel could come into her head when she was taking a walk

or shopping for a new hat; she filled dozens of notebooks with ideas, plots and characters. She was, as her grandson Mathew Prich ard has described her ' ... a person who listened more than she talked, who saw more than she was seen .'

Agatha Christie's other great interest was the Middle East, which she learned to love when she began travelling with her second husband, Max Mallowan, in the 1930s. She loved the desert, where she and Max studied the lives of ancient peoples. She helped with these serious explorations and also used the places in some of her favourite books, especially in Death on the Nile) Murder in Mesopotamia and They Came to Baghdad. She wrote enthusiastically about her travels in this part of the world in the book that ended her long writing career: the story of her own life, which came out the year after her death.

Towards the end of their careers, both Agatha Christie and Max Mallowan were honoured by the British government for their work. Agatha became a Dame in 1971 . This honour carne from a nation that was grateful for her entertaining stories, and also for the fact that she helped to define the English character and way of life for the rest of the world.

Death on the Nile brings together many of the best features of an Agatha Christie novel: murder, a colourful foreign background, a group of interesting suspects, and a surprising solution by the amazing Monsieur Hercule Poirot. It is not surprising that Dame Agatha's detective novels continue to charm and entertain n1.illions of readers around the world. The popularity of her stories goes beyond the printed page. There have been n1any television and film productions ofher mysteries, and there is even a very popular computer gatne based on Death on the Nile. Doubtless Agatha Christie's stories will continue to excite readers and audiences for many, many years.

H ercul e Poi rot, th e famous B elgia n detec tiv e.

'Look! That's her ! Linnet Ridgeway! She's got millions,' said Mr Burnaby, the owner of the local pub.

He and his only customer stared as a beautiful young woman jutnped out of a large Rolls Royce and hurried int o the post office. Such charming girls were seldom seen in the sleepy town of Malton - under-Wode.

'She'll bring money into the town, ' remarked the man at the bar. 'A bit different from Sir George.'

'That's true. He had no luck, especia ll y with the horses.'

'What did she pay for hi s house?'

'About si xty thousand, and she's going to spend that much on changes to the place.'

' N o! Where did she get all that tnoney frotn?'

'From an American grandfat h er, Leopold Hartz,' Mr Burnaby informed him. 'He l eft n'lillions to hi s daughter, who married Melhui sh Ridgeway. Like a Hollywood film, isn't it?'

They watched the gir l l eave the post office and drive off

'Money and good l ooks,' comp l ained the man at the bar. ' It doesn ' t seem fair . . . ' • 'Darlin g, I think this place i s go in g to be quite wonderful!'

T h e Hon.* Jo anna Southwood was sitting in Linnet Ridgeway's bedroom at Wode Hall.

'It's perfect, isn't it? agreed Linnet.

Her face was enthusiastic and alive. J oanna's long, c l ever face and strange eye make-up co uldn 't compete with Linnet's

* Hon .: the Honourable, a titl e that th e c hildren of some English l ords and ladies are allowed to u se

natural beauty.

Joanna picked up a beautiful string of pearls. 'I suppose these are real, aren't they, Linnet?'

'Of course.'

'Most people can't afford real pearls, my dear. These are amazing. What are they worth?'

'About fifty thousand.'

'Aren't you afraid of having them stolen?'

'No, I always wear them, and anyway they're insured.'

'Let me wear them until dinner time, will you, darling? It would be so exciting!'

Linnet laughed 'Of course, if you'd like to.'

Joanna put on the pearls and said, 'I really envy you, Linnet. You've got everything: money, beauty, perfect health. You've even got brains! When's your twenty-first birthday?'

'Next June. I'll have a big, brilliant party in London.'

'And then are you going to marry Charles Windlesham? The newspapers are so excited about the possibility. His big old house could use your attention. Just think! You could rul e both Wode Hall and Charltonbury. And he is in love with you.'

'I don't really want to marry anyone yet,' Linnet replied.

A telephone call from Ja cq ueline de Bellefort, Linnet's oldest friend , interrupted their pleasant conversation.

'Jackie!' Linnet shouted. 'I haven't h ea rd from you for ages!'

'Darling, I apologize, but now I want to see you urgently,' her friend said. 'Can I come down?'

'Yes, please! I'd love to show you Wode Hall.'

'Right. If my old car isn't in a bad mood, I'll see you in time for afternoon tea. Goodbye, darling!'

'Jackie and I were at school together in Paris,' Linnet told Joanna. 'Her father ran off and left the family without a penny.'

'Darling,' J canna sa id , 'if nty friends lo se their money, I stop see ing them imm ediat ely! They always want to borrow fron1 me.'

'So if I lost all my money tomorrow?' asked Linnet.

'Darling, you'd never see me again. Nobody wants poor, unsuccessful friends.'

'Joanna, you're terrible! And you're wrong about Jacqueline. She's very proud and has never asked me for money.'

'Let's wait and see. I suspect she wants something,' Joanna warned her.

'She did sound excited,' admitted Linnet. 'She always does.'

At that moment, one of Linnet's servants entered the room. She apologized quietly and left with a dress from Linnet's cupboard.

'Has Marie been crying?' asked Joanna.

'Poor Marie! She was planning to marry a man who has a job in Egypt. She didn't know much about him, so I made some enquiries. He has a wife already- and three children.'

'You must make a lot ofenemies, Linnet. You're so wonderfully efficient and so good at doing the right thing.'

Linnet laughed. 'I haven't got an enemy in the world!'

•

At four o'clock Jacqueline de Bellefort found her friend, Linnet, and Lord Windlesham in the grand sitting-room at Wode Hall. The gentleman watched the girls greet each other affectionately. A pretty child, he thought - not beautiful, but definitely attractive, with her dark curly hair and her enormous eyes. He politely greeted the girl and then left the two friends alone.

Jacqueline asked excitedly, 'Lord Windlesham? The man the newspapers always say you're going to marry? Are you?'

'I'm not ready to decide. Now, let's talk about you. Where have you been? Why haven't you written?'

'I've been at work. You see, I have to have a job.'

'But darling, why didn't you ... ? ' Linnet b ega n.

'Ask you for help? Well, that's what I'm here for. Not to

borrow money, but I have a great big important request.'

'Go on,' e ncouraged Linnet. 'Tell me about it.'

'If you're going to marry Windl es ham, perhaps you'll understand. I'm engaged to a man called Simon Doyle. He's simple and boyish and charming and completely loveable! He's got no money - but he's from a good family. H e's b ee n in a t e rribly boring office job, and now he' s lo st that. Linn e t, I shall die if I ca n ' t n1 a rry him!

'Don't be silly, Jackie!'

' No , I'm not exaggerating. We can't live without each other. Listen , I want you to give the job of land agent at Wode Hall to Simon. It' s p e rfec t for him. And if he' s no good, you can sack him. My special Linnet, my dear friend , say you'll hire hitn!'

Linnet laughed. 'Jackie, you really are mad! Bring this young man to Wode Hall and we'll talk about it.'

'Darling Linnet! I'll bring him tomorrow. You'll love him!'

•

In London that evening, as Jacqueline de Bellefort and her young man, Simon Doyle, celebrated at Chez Ma Tante , the owner of that restaurant welcomed an important guest. To most observers, this small, strange-looking man with a big moustache looked nothing like an important customer, but Monsieur* Blondin quickly found a very good table for his special friend.

'Monsieur Poirot!' Monsieur Blondin greeted the new arrival. 'It is wonderful to see you.'

Hercule Poirot, the famous Belgian detective, smiled, remembering a case in which a dead body, a waiter, Monsieur Blondin and a very attractive lady had all played a part.

Monsieur Blondin lowered his voice. 'Are you working on

* Monsi e ur: French for Mr or sir; Madan1e i s the word for Mrs or madam, and Mad emo i se ll e (plural: M es d emo i se ll es) is th e word for Mis s.

so m e thin g serious now?'

Poirot shook hi s h ea d. ' I h ave, unfortun a t e ly, r e tir e d. It i s true , howev e r , that man inv e nt e d work to av oid h avi n g to think , but th e r e i s trav e l. This winter I shall visit Egypt - th e c litn a t e, they say, i s good.'

'Egypt! An exce ll e nt d es tin a tion!'

M o n si e ur P oi rot watched th e d a n ce r s, and sm il e d w h en h e noti ce d one parti c ul a r co upl e : a t a ll, h a nd son1e man with bro a d should e r s and a thin , d a rk-hair e d g irl. Their h appin ess- in th e pl ace, th e tim e and in eac h other- was obvious.

The mu si c stopped a nd the co upl e r e turn e d to a t a bl e n ea r Mon sie ur Poirot. The g irl was bright -eye d , l a u g hin g, but th e r e was some thin g e l se in h e r e yes .

'S h e ca r es too much, that littl e one,' Poir ot sa id to him se lf ' It i s not saf e . No, it i s not safe .' And th e n a word ca u g ht hi s a tt e ntion: 'Egyp t. ' H e li stened more care fully. us.

'Do n ' t worry, Simon,' th e g irl sa id. 'Linn e t won't di sappoint '

'T h e job so und s p e rfec t. And I will work h a rd- for you!'

' W e' ll wait for thr ee months,' the g irl said h appily.

'Then, eve r y thin g th a t i s min e will b e yours,' th e young m a n sa id. 'A nd Egypt for our hon eymoo n! N e v e r mind th e cos t. I'v e always wanted to go th e r e. The Nil e and th e ... W e' ll see it to ge th er, Ja c ki e . Won ' t it be wonderful?'

'Yes,' the g irl r e pli e d , a nd h e r voice w as sudd e nly sharp, almo st with fea r. 'But will it b e as wonderful for yo u as for m e?'

'Do n ' t be silly, Jacki e . Let's dance. '

'Un e qui aime et un qui se lai sse aimer,'* Monsi e ur Poi rot thou g ht. ' Y es, I wonder too.' •

* un e qui ai 1n e et un qui se lai sse aim er: Frenc h for 'a woman who loves, and a m a n w h o allow s him self to be lov e d'

'What will you do if he's awful?' asked Joanna.

Linnet shook her head. 'Oh, I can trust Jacqueline' s taste.'

'Ah, but love changes people, ' Joanna said quietly.

Linnet looked impatient and changed the subject. 'I must talk to the architect about those plans. I'm having some horrible little houses near my new swimming pool pulled down.'

'Are the people who live in them happy to go?'

'Most of them are delighted. One or two of them are being rather stupid about it. They'll have n1.uch better living conditions.'

'The queen has spoken,' smiled Joanna.

'I'm not like that!' objected Linnet.

' No, but others are powerless. The combined effect of money and charm. If you can't buy it with cash, you buy it with a smile. Result: Linnet Ridgeway, The Girl Who Ha s Everything.'

Th eir conversation stopped as Lord Windle shamjoined them. Joanna greeted him and then left the She had seen the purpo se ful look in Windlesham's eye.

'Have you made a decision, Linnet?' he asked, coming straight to the point. ' I think, you know, we'd b e very happy together. '

' I'm not sure, Charles,' Linnet apologized. ' I'm e njoying myself. I do think Wod e H all is looking nice, don ' t you?'

'It's b ea utiful. And you lik e Charltonbury, don ' t you? Of co urs e it needs modernizing- but you're so clever at that sort of thing. ' He paused. 'B ut I'll wait for your answer.'

Later, Linnet examined her feelings. C harltonbur y was beautiful, old and quit e famous, but it wasn't h ers . There, she would be Lord Windle sham 's wife, not the queen.

And wasn't there another r easo n for h e r he sitation? She r emembere d Ja ckie' s voice, saying, 'I shall die ifi can't marry him! ' She kn ew that she didn ' t feel that way about Charles Windlesh am. Perhaps sh e could never feel like that about anyone.

The sound of a car came through the open window. Linnet

shook herself impatiently and went to greet Jackie and her young man.

'Linnet!' Jackie ran to her. 'This is Simon!'

Linnet saw a tall, wide-shouldered young man with very dark blue eyes, curly brown hair and a simple, boyish smile ... She stretched out her hand. The hand that took hers was firm and warm. She liked the open admiration in his eyes, and a warm, sweet feeling swept over her.

'Come in!' she said, as she finally dropped Simon's hand. 'Let me welcome my new land agent properly.'

And as she turned to lead the way, she thought, 'I'm very, very happy. I like Jackie's young man ... I like him enormously ... '

And then, sadly: 'Lucky Jackie . . . '

•

On the Spanish island of Majorca, Tim Allerton leant back in his chair and yawned. He looked at the attractive, white-haired woman of fifty who sat beside him.

'Do you really like Majorca, Mother?' he asked. 'Well,' his mother said after some consideration, 'it's cheap.' 'And cold.'

Tim was a tall, thin young man with dark hair and sad eyes. He described himself as a writer, but his friends understood that he did not encourage questions about his work.

'What are you thinking of, Tim?'

'I was thinking of Egypt. Real warmth, darling. Golden sands. The Nile. You mustn't worry about the cost. I heard this morning that I've made a very satisfactory amount from an . ' Investment.

'This morning?' said Mrs Allerton. 'But your only letter this morning was from Joanna ... ' She stopped and bit her lip.

The friendship between her son and his cousin always annoyed her. They both liked discussing others, and had many

of th e sa m e f ri e nd s. Mr s All e rt o n didn ' t lik e t o a dn1.it t h a t sh e fe lt sli g htl y j ea l o u s o f th e g irl. ' But i t' s more th a n th at ,' sh e th o u g ht. ' I d o n ' t lik e h e r. Sh e's in sin ce r e, a nd ca n ' t b e se riou s about a n y thin g .'

' Quit e ri g ht , M o th e r ,' h e sa id coo ll y . ' It was yes t e rd ay th a t I h ea rd about th e inv es t me nt. H e r e's Jo a nn a's l e tt e r - it 's full o f n e w s . Windl es h a n1's gone t o Ca n a d a, up se t b y L i n n e t Rid geway's r efu sa l. S h e's d efi n it ely go in g t o tna rr y h e r l a nd age nt. He h as n o m o n ey, of co ur se, th o u g h h e's f r o tn a goo d f a n1. il y, a nd h e was ac tu a ll y e n gage d to o n e o f Linn e t 's b es t fri e nd s.'

' Yo un g p eo pl e t o d ay d o n ' t kn ow h ow t o b e h ave,' sa id Mrs

All e rt o n. 'And i s J oa nn a e nj oy in g li fe?'

'S h e says sh e's thinkin g of o p e nin g a littl e sh o p in M ayfa ir. '

'S h e al ways t a lk s ab o ut h av in g n o m o n ey, but sh e tr ave l s a nd h e r c l o th es mu st cos t h e r a l o t. '

'Ah ,' sa id T im , ' but sh e pr o b ably d oes n ' t p ay fo r th e m. '

' W ell , unp a id bill s l ea d t o ruin in th e e nd. T hink ab o ut p oo r Sir Geo r ge W o d e . H e's su ffere d t e rribly sin ce h e l os t W o d e H a ll. H e think s Linne t Rid ge w ay h a s spoilt th e pl ace, a nd robb e d hi s f a mil y o f th e ir hi st o r y .'

' But M o th e r , h e sh o uldn ' t li ve in th e p as t a nd n e ithe r sh o uld we ! W e' ll go t o Egy pt n ex t m o nth. N o ar g um e nt s!'

Mrs All e rt o n sm il e d affec ti o n a t el y, a nd th e n sa id g uiltily , ' I' m afr a id I p rotn i se d Mr s Leec h th a t yo u ' d go w ith h e r t o th e p o li ce s t a ti o n. Sh e wa nt s t o r e port th e r o bb e r y of h e r rin g, but sh e d oes n ' t und e r st a nd an y Sp a ni sh. '

' I'll go, but th e sill y o ld \vo m a n was wea rin g th e rin g w h e n sh e we nt swimmin g th at d ay. I'm sur e sh e l os t it in th e sea .'

•

In a N ew Yo rk ap a rtn1e nt , o ld Mi ss Van S chu y l e r a ddr esse d h e r p oo r r el a ti o n s.

' I' m go in g t o E u r op e a nd th e n t o Egy pt ,' th e old wo n1.a n

explained. 'Miss Bowers will come with me as usual, but I want Cornelia to come as my social assistant.'

'How wonderful!' cried Cornelia Robson, a large girl with big doglike eyes. 'I've always dreamed of a trip to Europe.'

'My dear cousin,' her mother added, rising to leave, 'I'm really v ery grateful to you. I think Cornelia suffers from not being a social success here in New York. I haven't been able to take her to the right places since Ned died.'

As the Robsons were leaving, they met a tall, efficientlooking woman on the stairs.

'Well, Miss Bowers, so you're going to Egypt? What a lovely trip!' Mrs Robson hesitated, and waited until her daughter had gone on ahead of her. 'I do hope there won't be any ... trouble,' she whispered with concern.

'Oh, no, Mrs Robson. I always watch very carefully.'

•

In another part of New York City, Mr Andrew Pennington was opening his personal mail. Suddenly, his face changed and he called for his partner.

'What is it, Pennington?' Sterndale Rockford looked not unlike his partner - tall and thin with greying hair and a clever face.

' Linnet's married.' Pennington checked the date. 'Today. To someone called Simon Doyle. I've never heard of him, have you?'

'No. What shall we do?' Rockford asked. 'Got a plan?'

'The Normandie sails for Europe today,' Pennington said slowly. He looked at the letter again. 'Linnet's going to Egypt for her honeymoon. A chance meeting there? We have to stay one step ahead of her British lawyers.'

'Linnet's clever,' said Rockford. 'You go. She's always liked you - her "Uncle Andrew". And the situation is very serious.'

In the London offices of Carmichael, Grant and Carmichael, William Carmichael called his nephew into his office.

'Have a quick look at this letter,' he said to young Jim Fanthorp. 'It's just arrived by airmail from Egypt.'

. .

.

It seems wrong to be writing business lette rs on a day like this. We have bee n to so many interes ting places already and the day after tomorrow we are going up the Nile by steamboat. When we went to buy our tickets, who do you think we saw? My American trustee, Andrew Pennington. I think you met him when he was in London two years ago. I had no idea he was in Egypt and he had no idea that I was! Nor that I was married! My lett er, telling him, must have just missed him. He is actually going up the Nile on the same trip that we are. Isn't that amazing? ...

'You must go to Egypt.' Carmichael interrupted his nephew's reading. 'There's no time to lose.'

'But why me?'

'Use your brains, boy. Linnet Ridgeway has never met you; nor has Pennington. If you go by air, you may get there in time.'

•

Mrs Otterbourne addressed her daughter in her usual theatrical manner as she tied a brightly coloured scarf around her head.

'I'm tired ofJerusalem,' she complained. 'And I'm not treated with the proper respect in this hotel. My presence here attracts other visitors! Rosalie, are you listening to me?'

Rosalie was silent - she was looking at a photograph in the newspaper, below which was printed:

Mrs Simon Doyle, previously the well-known society beauty Mis s Linnet Ridgeway , and her husband. Mr and Mrs Doyle are on their honeymoon in Egypt.

'That nasty little manager,' Mrs Otterbourne continued, 'says h e needs our room, but I'm prepared to fight for my rights.'

'I suppose we could go on to Egypt,' said Ro sa lie, without mu ch interest. 'It doesn't make any differen ce .'

'It's certainly not a matter oflife or death, ' agreed her mother.

But Mrs Otterbourne was quite wrong- because a m atter of life or death was exactly what it wa s.

Chapter 2 Who's Who on the Nile

'T hat's H e rcul e Poirot, the detective, ' said Mrs All e rton.

She and her son were sitting in the sun outside the Cataract Hotel in Assuan. Tim sat up more quickly than he usually did.

'T hat funny little man in the white suit? What's he doing here?'

His mother l aughed. 'Darlin g, you sound quite excited. But I don't think he's looking for critninals. He's probably on holiday.'

' Well, he's found the best-looking girl in the place,' Tim noted. 'It's a pity th a t she looks so bad-t e mp e r e d.'

The subject of the se remarks was Ros a lie Otterbourne. She ce rtainly see med to be in a bad tnood, but Hercule Poirot was c hatting to her cheerfu ll y.

' I am finding this place very interesting, ' he was say ing. 'The black rocks, and the sun, and the little boats on the river.'

'I think Assuan' s rather dull,' Rosalie said. 'The hot e l 's half e mpty and eve ryone's about a hundred years old.' She stopped as she saw th e n1ile in Poirot's eyes. 'I- I wasn't thinking of you . I'm sorry. That sounded rude.'

'Pl ease, do not apologize,' said Poirot. ' It i s n a tural that you should wish for people of your own age. But th ere i s one young man , at lea st. '

'T h e o n e w h o sit s w ith hi s mo th er a ll th e titne? I lik e her, but I thin k h e l oo k s awful - so a rr oga nt .'

'And I - am I a rr oga nt ?'

'O h , I don ' t think so , a nd a n yway, I supp ose yo u h ave a r easo n to b e a rr oga nt. U nfo rtu na t e ly, c rim e d oes n 't int e r es t m e at a ll. '

P oiro t sa id se ri o u sly, ' I a n1 d eli g ht e d to l ea rn th a t y ou h ave n o g u i lt y sec r e t t o hid e .' R osa li e l oo k e d qu es ti on i ng l y a t P o ir o t , but th e d e t ec ti ve did n o t see m t o n o ti ce, a nd co ntinu e d , ' W e w i11 b o th n1a k e th e trip t o W a di* H a i fa a nd th e Seco nd Ca t a r ac t ?t And M a d a m e, yo ur tn oth e r , w as not a t lun ch tod ay. I h o p e th a t sh e i s abl e to j o in u s.'

'Egy pt d oes n ' t suit h e r ,' Ro sa li e sa id qui c kl y, ' but w e will b e o n th e trip. '

Th ey co ntinu e d th e ir w a lk t o th e riv e r 's e d ge . On e o f th e N ile stea mb oats was ju st a rri v in g, a nd Po i r o t a nd R osa li e loo k e d a t th e p asse n gers w ith int e r es t. T im All e rt on j o in e d th e m.

'Loo k! ' h e sh o ut e d exc it e dl y. 'T h at's L in ne t Rid geway. T h e r e w ith th e t a ll m a n. H e mu st b e th e new hu sb a nd. '

' D oyl e,' sa id R osa li e . 'S imon D o y l e . It was in th e n ews p ap e r s. Sh e's go t an e norm o u s am o unt of m o n ey, h as n ' t sh e?'

' Yes,' T im agree d. 'S h e's pro b abl y th e ri c h es t g irl in E n g l a nd. '

L inn e t Rid geway, n ow Linn e t D oyl e, ste pp e d off th e b oa t w ith th e co nfid ence of a fa m o u s ac tr ess \ v h o ex p ec t s p eo ple t o a dtn ir e h e r. T h e n sh e n1ad e a li g ht r e n1a rk t o h e r hu sb a nd , a nd w h e n h e a n swe r e d , th e so und of hi s v oi ce see m e d to int e r es t H e r c ul e Poiro t. Hi s eyes lit up.

T h e co upl e p asse d c lose to him a nd h e h ea rd Simo n D o y l e say, ' W e ca n st ay a wee k o r tw o if yo u li ke, d a rlin g .' H e was l oo ki ng a t h er w ith a d ee pl y l ov ing, aln1os t r es p ec t f ul a ttitud e . * wadi: a dry valley or r ive rb ed t ca tar ac t: a la r ge or hi g h wate tfa ll

Poirot's eyes considered him thoughtfully.

Tim watched the couple too. 'Lucky devil! Most girls with tnillions have something wrong with them. She's perfect! ' 'They look truly h appy,' commented Rosalie. 'It isn't fair ,' she added quietly.

She and Poirot continued their walk. 'So, it is not fair, Mademoi se lle?' asked the detective gently.

Rosalie's face turned red. 'It seems a little too much for one person, ' she said. 'Money, good looks, a beautiful figure and-' 'And love? But perhaps he married her for her money.'

'Didn't you see the vvay he looked at her?'

'I also saw dark circles below her eyes. I saw a hand that held her bag so tightly that it was white. Something is not right. And I know something else,' the detective continued. 'I have heard th e voice of Monsieur Doyle before.'

But Rosalie was not listening. 'I'd like to tear her beautiful clothes off her back and destroy her lovely, arrogant face. I'm ju st jealous - I've never hated anyone so much at first sight.'

'Wonderful! You will feel better after saying all that.'

Rosalie looked at him doubtfully. Then they both laughed, and made their way slowly back to the hotel.

Poirot found a seat in the garden, and was looking around him when he recognized the girl fron1 Chez Ma Tante. The ex pression on her face now was very different. She was paler, thinner, and there were lines that told of great unhappiness. A face - and a voice. The new husband, Mr Simon Doyl e, had been at Chez Ma Tante with this young woman.

Suddenly, Linnet Doyle and her husband came down the path. Linnet's voice was happy and confident. The girl from Chez Ma Tante stepped into the path.

The other two stopped .

'Hello, Linnet,' said Jacqueline de Bellefort. 'Our path s keep crossing. Hello, Simon, how are you?'

Linn e t h ad m ove d b ac k with a littl e c r y. An ge r co tnpl e t el y c h a n ge d Sim o n D oyl e' s goo d - l oo kin g face . H e l oo k e d r ea d y t o hit th e g irl , but th e n h e n o ti ce d Po ir o t.

' H ell o, J ac qu elin e,' h e sa id co ldl y . ' Wh at a surpri se .'

'A su r pri se?' sh e as k e d. T h e n sh e wa lk e d away.

P o iro t l e ft in th e o pp os it e dir ec ti o n. H e h ea rd Linn e t Doyl e say, 'S imo n! Wh a t ca n w e do ? O h , w h at ca n w e d o?'

•A f t e r dinn e r th a t ni g ht , n1os t of th e g u es t s a t th e Ca t a r ac t H o t el we r e sittin g a t littl e t a bl es o n th e t e rr ace . Sin1o n a nd Linn et Doyl e a nd a t all , se ri o u s- l oo kin g, g r ey- h a ir e d An1e ri ca n h es it a t e d in th e d o orw ay. T im All e rt o n ro se from hi s c h air a nd gree t e d th e m.

' Yo u don ' t r e m e mb e r n1e, I'm sur e,' h e sa id pl easa ntl y t o L inn et, ' but I'mJo a nn a S o uthwo o d 's co u sin. '

' Of co ur se I r e m e mb e r yo u! Yo u ' r e Tim All e rt o n. T hi s i s m y hu sb a nd. ' H e r voi ce sho o k sli g htl y - prid e, sh y n ess? 'And thi s i s m y Am e ri ca n tru st ee, Mr Andr e w P e nnin g ton. '

T h e thr ee n ew a rriv al s j o in e d T im a nd hi s m o th e r a t a t abl e. T h e n ex t tim e th e d oo r s o p e n e d , L inn e t lo ok e d up n e r vo u sly, but r el axe d as a sm a ll ma n ca m e o ut a nd wa lk e d across th e t e rr ace .

' Y o u ' r e n o t th e o nl y cel e brit y h e r e, m y d ea r. T h a t f unn y littl e m a n i s H e r c ul e P o iro t ,' ex pl a in e d Mr s Alle rt o n .

'Of co ur se,' sa id Linn e t th o u g htfull y . ' I' ve h ea rd of him ... '

' M o n si e ur P o ir o t! ' ca ll e d Mr s O tt e rb o urn e, in h e r l o ud , b ossy vo i ce, fr o m th e o th e r sid e of th e t e rr ace . 'S it d ow n w ith u s.' H e o b eye d. 'T h ere a r e q uit e a l o t o f cel e b r iti es h ere n ow, are n ' t th e r e? Soc i e t y b ea uti es, we ll - kn ow n d e t ec ti ves, fa m o u s n ove li st s .'

Po ir o t fe lt r a th e r th an saw Ro sa li e's unh appin e ss . 'Yo u a r e wo rkin g o n a n ove l a t p r ese nt , M ada m e?' h e as k e d p o lite ly.

'I'm being terribly lazy,' Mrs Otterbourne said. 'My readers are getting very impatient. I'll soon start writing again. I speak the truth. Sex - ah! Monsieur Poirot, why is everyone so afraid of sex? You have read my books?'

'Ah, Madame, I do not read many novels. My work ... '

Mrs Otterbourne interrupted. 'You must have a copy of Under th e Fig Tree. You will find it interesting. It's honest - and real.'

'I'll fetch the book for you,' offered Rosalie quickly.

'No, dear, I can go,' said Mrs Otterbourne angrily.

'Please, Mother, talk to Monsieur Poirot. I know where it is.'

'A glass of wine, Madame?' offered Poirot, when Rosalie had left.

'No, no, I rarely touch alcohol.'

'Then may I order a lemonade for you, Madame?'

Rosalie returned, a book in her hand. Poirot was surprised by the lack of clothes worn by the lady on the cover, but he accepted it politely while noticing the girl's embarrassment.

Suddenly, the doors opened again and the thin, dark-haired girl from Chez Ma Tante walked quietly to an empty table and chose her seat carefully. Then she stared directly at Linnet Doyle. Linnet whispered something to Mr Pennington and changed her seat.

Poirot noticed everything and wondered about the situation. Five minutes later, the other girl moved to the opposite side of the terrace. Her eyes never left the face of Simon Doyle's wife.

Soon Linnet Doyle and her husband left the terrace. Jacqueline de Bellefort smiled and lit a cigarette .

•

'Monsieur Poirot?'

Poirot stood up quickly. He had remained out on the terrace after everyone else had left. He looked into the eyes of Linnet

D oyl e, w ho l o ok e d mor e lov e ly th a n eve r.

'At yo ur se r v i ce, M ad a m e,' h e sa id p o lit e ly .

' M o n si e ur Poir o t , I an1 in ur ge nt n ee d o f so m e on e t o h elp m e . And I think th a t yo u a r e pro b ably th e ri g ht p e r son. '

' rf h a nk yo u , M a d a m e, but I a m on holid ay, a nd wh e n I a n1 o n h o lid ay I d o n o t t a k e cases .'

' P er h ap s I ca n ch a n ge th a t ,' L inn e t sa id c onfid e ntl y . ' B efor e I m e t m y hu sb a nd , he was e n gage d t o a cl ose fri e nd of min e, Mi ss d e B e ll e fo rt. M y hu sb and e nd e d th e e n gage tne nt - th e y w e r e not suit e d t o eac h o ther. Mi ss d e B e ll e fort , I a m sorr y to say, was ve r y unh app y about it. Sh e thr ea t e n e d u s, but didn ' t h a rm u s . In st ea d , sh e h as b eg un to fo llo w u s wh e r e v e r we g o. '

'Ah - r ath e r a n unu su a l -e r - r e v e n ge,' co mm e nt e d Poiro t.

' U n u su al - a nd a nno y in g . W e' r e o n o ur hon ey mo o n a nd sh e h as b ee n th e re a t e v e r y stop: Ve ni ce, Brindi si , M e n a Hou se a nd n ow h e r e . It 's non se n si cal. I a m surpri se d sh e h as n ' t g ot m o r e prid e .'

' Th e r e a r e tim es, M a d a m e , wh e n o th e r e motion s a r e str o n ge r. '

' Yes, p oss ibl y, but wh a t ca n she h o p e t o ga in b y all thi s?'

' It i s not a lways a m att e r of ga in , M a d a m e .'

Linn e t l oo k e d sli g htly e mb a rr asse d but sa id qui c kl y , ' Yo u a r e ri g ht , but thi s b e h av iour h as go t t o b e st o pp e d. '

' If thi s yo un g l a d y h as not thr ea t e n e d or in s ult e d you in publi c a nd if sh e h as n ot phys i cally h a rm e d y ou , I do not see w h a t yo u ca n do. T h e air i s fr ee to all! '

'T hi s i s imp oss ible ! Th e r e 1nust b e so m e w ay o f stoppin g h e r. ' ' Yo u co uld m o v e so mewher e el se,' sa id P o irot ca lml y .

' Why should we - run away ? Ar e we .. . ?' Sh e st o pp e d.

'Exac tl y, M a d a m e . Ar e y ou ... wh a t ? Why d oes M a d e m o i se ll e d e B e ll e fo rt' s pr ese n ce off e nd yo u so mu ch ? I w ill t e ll yo u a littl e st o r y . A m o nth o r t w o ago, I was dinin g in a r es t aur a nt in L o nd o n. At th e t abl e n ex t t o n1e w e r e a m a n a nd a g irl. T h ey

we re , it seemed, very much in love and confident of the future. I co uld see the woman's face, and the strength of her love was clea r. They were engaged, I learnt, and were discussing their hon eymoo n. They planned to go to Egypt.' He paused. 'And now they are here, in Egypt. But the man is on his honeymoon w ith another woman.'

' Yes, I had already told you the facts,' sa id Linnet coldly. Poirot continued, 'T he facts - yes. But that night in London, the girl also mentioned a friend who she could depend on. I think that friend was you, Madame. She trusted you.'

' These things happen, Monsieur Poirot ,' Linnet said angrily. ' I know that Jackie was deeply in love w ith Simon, but he didn't feel the same way. He was very fond of her, but even before he n1et me, he was beginning to feel that he had made a mistake - a nd an engagement can be broken.'

'Your argument is logical,' said Poirot, 'but it does not explain one thing- your attitude. Your very close friend has been deeply hurt, but instead of feeling pity or annoyance at her behaviour, yo u are extremely angry. There can be only one reason for your reaction - that you feel a sense of guilt.'

Linnet jumped to her feet. 'How dare you talk to me like that! Really, Monsieur Poirot!'

'But I do dare, Madame. I suggest that you felt strongly at tracted to Simon Doyle at once. Then there was a motnent when you had a choice. You hesitated, but you chose to use your charm to take Simon from your friend, although you knew what he meant to her.'

There was a silence. Then Linnet said in a cold voice, 'This has nothing to do with my problem now.'

'I disagree with you, Madame. I am ex plaining why your friend's unexpected appearances upset you so n1uch. You know, in your heart, that she ha s right on her side. I am guessing that yo u have had a happy life, that you have been kind and generous

in your attitude to others. '

'I have tri e d to b e ,' sa id Linnet quietly.

'And that is why you are so up se t that you have intentionally ca u sed so meon e pain. I am so rry if I have been rud e, but p syc hology i s th e n1ost important fact in a case.'

Linnet sa id slowly, 'Perhaps you're right - but what can be don e about it now? I can't change the past. '

' You tnust accept that you are re spon sible for your friend' s problems. You mu st have courage and do nothing. '

'Couldn't you - talk to Ja c ki e? Try to r easo n with h e r ?'

' What is your husband 's a ttitude to this situation?'

'He's angry,' sa id Linnet. 'Ex tr emely angry.'

Poirot considered this. 'Well, I will talk to thi s young woman as a private individual, but I do not believe that I shall achieve anything. Tell m e, how did she threaten you?'

'S he threatened to kill us both.'

•

H e rcule Poirot found Jacqueline de B e ll efort sitting on the rocks below the terra ce .

'Mademoiselle,' he began, 'may I talk to you? I have just come from M a dame Doyle - but I am not working for her.'

'Oh! Then why have you come?'

' I saw you and Monsi e ur Doyle once at Chez Ma Tante,' Poirot ex plained. 'Sinc e th e n, many thin gs have happened. You cannot chan ge th e pa st. Turn to the future and stop thi s suffering.'

' I an1 sure that would suit de a r Linne t, ' Jacqueline said angrily. 'B ut th ere are times when I almost enjoy all of this. '

'And that, Mad en1o is elle , is th e worst of all,' Poirot said gently. 'Go home. You have your whole life in front of you.'

'Monsieur Poirot, I love Simon - and he lov es m e ... And I lov e d Linnet ... and tru st ed her. She was my be st friend. But sh e ha s always b ee n able to buy eve rything sh e wanted.'

'Did Monsieur Doyle allow himself to be bought? '

'No, it's mor e con1plicated than that. She gave up Lord Windlesham and his title and his big house and chose Simon. H e felt confused, but also special. Linnet's beauty and charm blinded him, and he couldn't see me any more. He fell in love w ith h e r because she made him. ' She looked away. 'Yes, he hates n1e now. But h e' d b e tt e r be careful.' Sh e pulled a small pearlh a ndl e d pistol from her handbag. 'A nice little thing. One bullet would kill a man or a woman, and I know how to use it. I was go ing to shoot them, but then I decided to follow them and steal their happiness.' She laughed loudly.

Poirot took her arm. 'Stop this!' he said. 'Do not open your h ea rt to evil. It will make its home there and destroy you.'

Jacqu eline hesitated , but then said, 'You couldn't stop me if I decided to kill her. What have I got to live for?'

'But, Mademoiselle, murder is an unforgivable offence.'

' Then you should re spect my pre se nt method of r eve nge. As long as it works, I won 't use that gun. But sometimes I want to hurt h er - to put my little pistol against her head and shoot herOh!' She stared into the shadows . 'Someone was standing there.'

Poirot looked round quickly. The place seemed completely e mpty. 'I think we are alone, Mademoi se lle.'

' You do understand - that I can't do what you ask .'

Poirot shook his head. 'But you c an! There is always a moment. You could be different from your friend Linnet, and make th e ri g ht choice. If that moment passes, there is no second chance.'

' No sec ond chance ... ' Jacqueline looked thoughtful, then r a i se d her head. 'Good night, Monsieur Poirot.'

•

The n ex t morning, Simon Doyle join ed Her c ul e Poirot as th e detectiv e wa s walking into the town.

'Good morning, Mon sieur Poirot. M ay I walk with you?'

'Certainly, Mon sieur Doyle. I shall be delighted.'

Simon hesitated and then said suddenly, 'This that Linnet told you about - it's a crime that she should be treated this way! People can say that I behaved badly, but I won't allow them to blame her.'

'Did you - have you talked to Jackie - Miss de Bellefort?'

'Yes, but she wouldn't listen. Can ' t she see that she's making a fool of herself?' demanded Simon.

'She has only a sense of- injury, shall we say?' Poirot replied.

'Yes, and I would understand if she never wished to see me again . I admit I was completely to blame. But respectable girls don't follow people round. What can she hope to gain from it?'

'Perhaps - revenge!'

'Crazy! I'd understand better if she tried to shoot me,' said Sin1on. 'She's hot - blooded - and she's got an uncontrollable temper. She could do anything for revenge if she were really angry. But this spying ... '

'It is cleverer - yes! It is intelligent! And there is nothing, then, of the old feeling left?' asked Poi rot carefully.

'Monsieur Poirot, how can I explain it? After I met Linnet, Jackie didn't exist. She thinks that I married Linnet for her money, but I wouldn't any woman for money! I know this sounds arrogant, but Jackie was too fond of me!'

'Une qui aime et un qui se lais se aimer,' remarked Poi rot.

Simon ignored this comment. 'Jackie wanted to own me, body and soul, and a man doesn't want that kind of possessive attitude . Then I met Linnet.' His voice was full of boyish wonder. 'It was amazing. Everyone treats her like a queen - and she chose me. I'm nobody! Why can't Jackie accept it like a man?'

Poirot's upper lip curled in a faint smile. 'Well, Monsieur Doyle, she is not a man.'

'No, but she should understand the situation. If you no longer care for a girl, it's madness to marry her. And now that I can see

what Jackie's really like, I feel I've had rather a lucky escape.'

' Have you any idea what else she would do?' Poirot asked thoughtfully. 'S he carries a pistol in her handbag.'

Simon looked surprised. 'I don't believe she'll use it - she threatened earlier, but the situation has gone past that . This spying on us and following us everywhere has really hurt Linnet. But I've made a plan. I've announced openly that we're going to stay here for ten days. But tomorrow th e steamboat Karnak sta rts from Shellal to Wadi Halfa. I'll book our tickets for that trip under false names. Tomorrow morning Linnet and I will leave the hotel, say ing that we're going to Philae for the day, but instead we'll go to Shellal and join the Karnak there. Linnet's n1aid will bring our luggage. Jackie will expect us back at the hot e l in the evening, but when we don't return, it will be too lat e for her to find us.'

'And if Miss de Bellefort waits here until you return?'

' We may not return. We could go to Khartoum and then p e rhaps by air to Kenya. She can't follow us all round the world.'

'Yo ur plan may work,' said Poirot, 'but you are, of co ur se, running away from the problem. And remember, Mademoiselle de Bellefort has brains.' Then he added, 'I, too, shall be on the Karnak. I bought my ticket in London. I like to plan every detail.'

Simon laughed. 'Is that how a skilful murderer behaves? You must t ell us about some of your cases when we're on the Karnak. I know that Mrs Allerton would like to hear about your work.'

'Mrs Allerton? That is the charming white-haired woman who has such a loving son?'

' Yes. She'll be on the Karnak too, but she doesn't know about n1y plan. I believe that it's better not to trust anybody.'

' Very wise. A principl e I also follow. And the third m emb er of your party, the tall grey-haired man ... '

'That's Pennington, Linnet's American trustee. We met him by chance in Cairo.'

'Ah, vraiment!* A question, with your permission? Madame - your wife - is over twenty-one years old?'

'No, not yet, but she didn't need anyone's permission to marry me. It was a great surprise to Pennington. He left New York on the Carmanic two days before her letter about our wedding reached his office.'

'The Carmanic . . . ' Poirot said thoughtfully. 'What a coincidence to meet Mr Pennington in Cairo.'

'Yes, and his plans included this Nile trip, so we've been travelling together. On our honeymoon! But at least, in his presence, we have to talk about other things, and not Jackie.'

'Your wife has not told Mr Pennington about this problem?'

'No, it's our problem, and anyway, when we started on this Nile trip we thought we'd seen the end of it.'

'No,' said Poirot. 'I am sure you have not yet seen the end of it.'

'You're not very encouraging, are you, Monsieur Poirot?'

Simon Doyle's attitude worried Poirot. 'This man is like a child,' he thought. 'He takes nothing seriously except playing games! But his wife and Jacqueline de Bellefort take this business seriously.'

The detective said, 'You will allow me to ask a personal question? Was it your idea to come to Egypt for your honeymoon?'

Simon seemed upset again. 'No, but Linnet absolutely insisted on it. And so - and so - '. he stopped.

'Naturally,' said Poirot . He understood that if Linnet Doyle decided on anything, it had to happen. He thought to himself, 'I have heard from Jacqueline de Bellefort, Linnet Doyle and her husband. Whose story of this affair is nearest the truth?'

* Ah , vraim ent!: Fre n c h for ' Oh , r e ally!'

At e l eve n the next morning, Jacqueline d e Bellefort sa t on th e ter r ace a nd watched Simon and Linnet Doyle depart in a sma ll sa ilboat. At the sa m e time , and without J acq uelin e see in g it , a c a r departed with the Doyles' luggage and Linnet's maid.

H e rc ul e Poirot d ec ided to sp e nd the time before lunch on th e i land of Elephantine, opposite the hot el , and join e d two men stepping into one of the hotel boats. The younger man was a tall, dark-haired young man with a thin , angry face. His clothes were extremely dirty an d un suit able for th e climat e. The other traveller, a heavy middl e -aged man with a foreign accent, beg an a co nv e r sa tion with Poirot as the boat h ea ded for Elephantine. T h e yo un ger man turned hi s b ac k on th e m , and in stea d admired the sk ill of th e Egyptian boatman who was piloting th e boat.

On th e little island, the friendly stranger introdu ce d hims e lf to Mon si e ur Poirot as Signor* Guido Ri c hetti, a hi storian. Poirot a c ce pt e d hi s card polit e ly and formally presen ted Signor Rich e tti w ith one of his own cards. Then the two men, now speaking in French, stepped into the Elephantine Museum together. The y o un ge r man from the bo at walked a round with littl e int eres t.

Aft e rw a rds, Poirot noticed Mr s All e rton sitting alon e be sid e the riv e r , a nd joined h e r. H e r e mov e d hi s h a t polit ely.

'Goo d mornin g, Mr Poirot, ' Mrs Allerton sai d. 'Ar e you joining u s on the trip to the Second Cataract?'

' Yes, I atn.'

'I' m so g l a d. I'm very excited to meet yo u. But I saw yo u t a lkin g to Simon Doyle earlier. What do you think of him ? Hi s n1 ar ria ge to Linnet Ridgeway was a great surpri se .'

' You know M a d an1e Doyl e well, M adame?'

' No, but a co u sin of min e, Jo a nna Southwood, i s one of h e r * Signor : Itali an for Mr or sir

b es t fri e nd s -a nd on e of Tim's .' Sh e l o o ke d di spl ease d.

' Yo u do n o t like yo ur co u sin , M a d ame?'

'N o t mu c h ,' sa id Mr s All e rton , a nd th e n ch a n ge d th e subj ec t. ' H o w v e ry f e w yo un g p eo pl e th e r e a r e out h e r e ! T h a t pr e tt y g irl with th e aw f ul n1oth e r i s a lmos t th e o nl y y oun g c r ea tur e in th e pl ace . Sh e int e r es t s m e, th a t c hild , but I feel so rr y fo r h e r. You ca n su ff e r so mu c h wh e n y ou're y oun g a nd se n siti ve .'

'Yes,' ag r ee d Poi rot. ' Sh e i s not h app y, poor littl e on e .'

' I've tri e d to t alk to h e r, but sh e's not int e r es t e d. How e v e r , I hop e to h av e a n o th e r opportunity on thi s Nil e trip. I'm ve r y fri e nd ly, r ea ll y - p e opl e interes t tn e enor m ou sly.' She p au sed , th e n sa id: ' Tim t ell s m e th a t th e d a rk-h a ir e d g irl, Mi ss d e B e ll e fort, i s th e g irl who w as e ng age d to Simon Doyl e . It 's r a th e r un co mfort abl e for th e m- m ee tin g like thi s . You know , it m ay sound fooli sh , but she almost fri g ht e n s m e .'

'A g r e at for ce of emotion i s a lw ays fri g ht e nin g,' P o iro t sa id.

' D o p e opl e int e r es t you to o, Mon si e ur P o ir o t ? Or a r e y ou only int e r es t e d in po ss ibl e c riminal s?'

' Tha t d esc ription wo uld not l eave m a n y p e ople out sid e it. '

' Ev e n m e, p e rh ap s?' ask e d Mr s Allerton with surpri se .

' Moth e rs, M a dame , ar e p a rticularl y d a n ge rou s wh e n th e ir c hildr e n are in troubl e .'

Sh e sa id seriou sly, ' Yes, I think y ou ' r e quit e ri g ht. ' T h e n sh e smil e d aga in a nd said , ' I 'm tryin g t o in1agin e motiv es for c ritn e suit abl e for e v e r y one in th e hot el. Sin1on Do y l e, for exa n1ple ?'

Poirot sa id , smilin g, 'A v e r y simpl e c rim e - nothin g co mpli ca t e d. H e would g o dir ec tly toward s hi s g o al. '

'And th e r e for e h e would b e eas y to ca t ch ?'

' Y es, h e would not b e cl e ver. '

'And Linnet ?'

' Sh e would ac t lik e a qu ee n a nd sin1.ply g i ve h e r ord e r s.'

'And th e d a n ge r o u s g irl - J ac qu e lin e d e B e ll e fo rt - c ould sh e c ommit a murd e r ?'

Poirot p a u se d and then said doubtfully, ' Yes, I think sh e c o uld . I'm not sur e . She puzzl es m e, that littl e one.'

' Mr Pennington co uldn't co mmit a murder. Th e re 's no red bl ood in him ,' sa id Mrs Allerton , enjoying the ga m e . 'And poor Mrs Otterbourne in h e r funny cloth es?'

'The r e i s always pride. '

'A a motive for n1urder?' asked Mrs All e rton doubtfully.

<Motiv es for tnurd e r are not always grand, Madan1e.'

' What are th e mo st usual motive s, Monsieur Poirot? '

' Mo st frequent - money. Then there i s rev e nge - and lov e, a nd fear, a nd pure hate, and even generosity.'

' Monsieur Poi rot!'

'O h , yes, Madam e . Political rnurders are oft e n in thi s g roup. on1e body is co nsid ere d harmful to a society and i s removed. T h e n1urd ere r s forg e t that life and d ea th are th e affair of God.'

Soon they joined the others in th e boat to return to the hotel. Poirot spok e politely to th e young man in the dirty clothes .

'T h e re are very wonderful thing s to see in Egypt, are th e re not ?'

'T h ey make n1e si c k ,' the young man replied in a surprisingly e ducated voice. 'Think of the poor workers who struggled to build all th ese inttportant buildin gs, and di e d doing it.'

You'd prefer to h ave no Pyramids, no Parthenon, no c astles or ca th e drals? ' asked Mrs Allerton.

' Human beings matt er more th a n stones. And the future i s tnore important than the past.'

Signor Ri c h e tti, whose special inter es t was ancient ruin s, a rgued with th e young man about art and politic s until th e boat l and e d.

•

After lun c h, th e p asse ng e r s for the Second Cataract - in cludin g Monsieur Poirot, th e All er tons , the young man and the Italian ,

but not J ac qu e lin e d e B ell e fo rt - ca u g ht th e tr ain fro m Ca ir o t o Sh e ll a l. T h e Ott e rb o urn es wo uld j o in th e g r o up th e r e .

P o ir o t fo und th a t h e w as sittin g w ith a n o ld e r l a d y wh o h a d a ve r y line d face, a sti ff w hit e c oll a r , di amo nd s a r o und h e r n ec k a nd a n a rr oga nt ex pr ess i o n o n h e r f ace . Aft e r a qui c k look at P o iro t , sh e r e tir e d b e hind h e r Am e ri ca n m agaz in e . Now a nd th e n sh e r a i se d h e r eyes a nd shout e d a n o rd e r a t th e sh y yo un g w o m an sittin g oppo sit e h e r:

'Co rn eli a, coll ec t th e c o a t s.' ' Wh e n w e a rriv e, l oo k for m y case . Und e r no c irc um st a n ces l e t a n y on e el se h a ndl e it. '

T h e tr a in j o urn ey w as ve r y short a nd so o n th e p asse n ge r s w e r e o n th e K arna k w ith th e O tt e rb o urn es . M os t of th e p asse n ge r s h a d ca bins o n th e sa m e d ec k . At th e front o f thi s d ec k th e re w as a publi c loun ge with window s o n a ll sid es, w h e r e th e p asse n ge r s co uld sit a nd w at c h th e riv e r.

Aft er c h ec kin g hi s ca bin , Poirot j o in e d R osa li e Ott e rb o urn e o n th e d ec k.

' So n ow we j o urn ey into Nubi a .* You a r e pl ease d , M a d e moi sell e?'

Th e g irl t o ok a d ee p brea th. ' Yes . I fee l th a t w e' r e re a lly ge ttin g aw ay from thin gs a t l as t. Aw ay from p eopl e. T h e r e's so m e thin g ab o ut thi s c ountry th a t mak es m e f ee l -evil. It r e mind s m e th at eve r y thin g's so un fa ir. Look a t some p eo pl e's m o th e r s -a nd l oo k at min e . The o nl y Go d i s S ex ... ' Sh e st o pp e d. ' I sh o uldn ' t say su ch thin gs, I supp ose. '

' Wh y not say th e m - t o n1.e? Say th e m a nd th e n le t th e m g o. ' Sh e sn1. il e d a t P o i r o t . ' Wh a t a n ex tr ao rdin a r y m a n yo u a r e !' T h e n h e r face d c h a n ge d aga in. ' W ell , h e r e a r e Mr a nd Mrs D oyl e . I h ad n o id ea th ey w e r e c omin g o n thi s trip! '

S imon a nd L inn e t Do y l e l o ok e d r e l axe d a nd brilli a ntl y h app y, a nd h eld h a nd s as th e K arn ak b ega n it s seve n - d ay j o u r n ey t o th e * N u b i a : a d esert r eg i o n a nd an ci e n t n ation i n th e Ni l e R i ver va ll ey

S ec ond Cataract a nd ba c k.

Fron1. b e hind them ca me a light laugh. Linnet turn e d her h ea d in shock. Jacqueline de Bellefort was standing there. She see n1 e d amused.

' H ello, Linn e t! I didn't expect to find you here. I thought you sa id you were staying in A ss uan for another ten days.'

Linnet and Simon mov e d to the other side of the boat. Simon looked wild with anger; th e ir plea sure had gone. Without turning hi s he ad, Poi rot heard bits of their co nversation: ' ... turn back ... in1po ss ible ... Lin, we 've got to go on with it now ... '

•

In the early evening, Poirot stood alone in the publi c lounge. Suddenly, Linnet Doyl e stood by hi s side. She looked nervous an d worried, like a confused child.

' Monsieur Poirot, I'm afraid- l'n1 afraid of everything. The dark water, the wild ro c ks. I've n eve r felt like this. Except for Simon, I'm surrounded by enemies .'

'B ut what is all this, Madame?'

'Pe rhaps it's nerves .. . I ju st feel un sa fe. Trapped! What's going to h appen? How did she know we were coming on this boat?'

'S h e has brain s, you know,' answered Poirot. 'With your n1on ey, why did you not hire a private boat?'

'We didn ' t expect thi s trouble. And Simon i s se nsitive about n1oney. He wanted a honeymoon that he could pay for. I've got to e du ca te him gradually about the finer things in life.' Then her mood changed. ' I must change my clothes. I'm so rry, Mon si e ur Poi rot. I'm afraid I've be e n talking a lot of foolish nonsense. '

•

In the dining-room, Mrs Allerton sa id to h e r so n, 'I asked little Hercule Poirot to sit at our table.'

' Mother, you didn't! ' Tin1 sounded annoyed. ' He'll b e with

us day and night.'

Mrs Allerton looked upset. Tim was usually so goodtempered. Men were difficult to understand! 'I'm sorry, my dear. I thought it would amuse you. You love detective stories.'

As they sat down, Hercule Poirot crossed the room to their table. ' You really allow me , Madame, to join you?'

'Please sit down, Monsieur Poirot,' Mrs Allerton said, smiling. She noticed his quick look at Tim, who still seemed angry, so talked cheerfully to produce a more pleasant atmosphere. 'Here's the passenger list. Let's try and n1atch names to people. We know Miss de Bellefort and the Otterbournes. And, of course, Mr and Mrs Doyle. I think Dr Bessner must be the fat German with the moustache. And Mr Fanthorp tnust be the very quiet young man. Quite a nice face, cautious and intelligent.'

'Yes,' agreed Poirot. ' I wonder what he is doing here.'

'I think Mr Ferguson must be the young man who hates the rich. And Mr Pennington is the Americ an who Mrs Doyle calls Uncle Andrew. I can imagine him in an office on Wall Street - extremely rich, I think. Next - Monsieur Hercule Poirot, whose talents are being wasted on this trip. Can't you find a crin1e for Monsieur Poirot, Tim?'

But her w e ll-intended conversation only seemed to annoy her son more, and she quickly continued, 'We know Mr Richetti from Elephantine Island. Then Miss Van Schuyler - the very ugly old American lady who thinks she is better than everybody. Who are the two women with her?'

Finally, Tim decided to join his mother's game. 'Miss Bowers, the thin one with glasses, is her secretary and nurse. The other one is Mis s Robson, a poor relation who seems to be enjoying herself although Miss Van Schuyler treats her like a slave. I heard them talking in the lounge before dinner. '

On hi s w ay to hi s ca bin l a t e r th a t night , H e r c ul e Poiro t sa w J a c qu elin e d e B ell e fort st a ndin g al o n e o n th e d ec k. Th e l oo k o f p a i n on h e r fa ce stopp e d him. Sh e look e d sa d no w, n o t f ri g ht e nin g in a ny w ay.

' Go od night , M a d e moi se ll e .'

' Go od night , Mon si e ur Poirot. ' Sh e h es it at e d , th e n said , 'Yo u \ve r e surpri se d t o find m e h e r e, o n thi s t rip ?'

' M o r e so rry th a n surpri se d. You hav e c ho se n, M a d e m o i se ll e, th e d a n ge rou s p a th. I doubt n o w if y ou c ould turn b ac k if yo u c h o se to. '

'T h at i s tru e, but one mu st follow one 's star , wh e r eve r it le ad s .'

' B e ca r e ful , Mad e moi se ll e, th at it i s not a f a l se st a r .'

B a ck in hi s cabin , P o iro t w as fa llin g as l ee p wh e n h e h ea rd Sitnon Do y le's v oi ce, r ep ea tin g th e sa m e wo rd s h e h a d u sed wh e n t h e st ea mboat l e ft Shellal: ' W e' v e got to go on with it now ... '

' Ye s,' thou g ht H e r c ul e Poirot. ' W e h ave t o go on with it now.' H e wa s not h app y. • Aft e r a stop at E z -Z e bua th e n ex t d ay, th e K arnak c ontinued it s jo urn ey t o w a rd s W a di H a ifa . T h e sce n e r y w as l ess fri g h te nin g a nd th e n1ood o f th e p asse ng e r s w as m o r e ch ee rful.

Linne t see m e d almo st light - he a rt e d as sh e sa t in th e publi c l o un ge w ith h e r hu sb a nd a nd Mr P e nnin g ton.

' I know it 's y our hon ey moon , Linn e t ,' sa id P e nnin g ton, ' but t h e r e ar e ju st o n e or two thin gs ... '

'Of co ur se, Un cl e Andr e w.' Linn e t a t on ce b eca m e bu sin ess lik e . ' My m a rri age ha s m a d e a diffe r e n ce, o f c our se. '

' Yes . I will n ee d your si g n a tur e o n se v e r a l d oc um e nt s.' P e nnington lo o k e d round qui c kl y . T h e o nl y oth e r p e opl e in th e l o un ge w e r e Mr F e r g u son , drinkin g b ee r at a sm all t abl e , H er c ul e Po ir o t , w ho was sitting n ea r him , a nd Mi ss Va n S chu yl e r , who

was sitting in a corner reading a book on Egypt.

Pennington left and r e turn e d with a large pil e of pap ers .

' Have I got to sign all these? ' Linnet asked.

'

I know it's not a good tin1e , but I'd like to get your affa irs in prop e r order.' He so rt e d throu g h the pap ers and Simon yawned.

The door to the lounge opened and Mr Fanthorp came in. H e looked round and th e n walked over to th e windows and stood near Poirot, looking out at the pale blue water.

Pennington put a docun1ent in front ofLinnet, who examined it ca refully.

'You sign just there,' he said as he pointed to the space for her si g natur e. ' It's not very import an t. You needn ' t read it.'

Simon yawned again. 'My dear girl, if you read everything, we'll be here until lun ch-tim e and longer.'

'I always read everything carefully,' said Linnet. 'Father taught m e to do that. There could be a careless mistake.'

P e nnington gave a rather cold laugh.

'I've never read a legal document in my life,' said Simon, laughing. 'I sign where they tell me to sign .'

Suddenly, to everyone's surprise, the silent Mr Fanthorp spoke to Linnet. 'Excuse m e, but I mu st say that I r es pe c t your bu sin ess like attitude. It's admirable to read a docum e nt before you sign it.' Then, rather red in the face, he turned again to study the banks of the Nile.

'E r - thank you,' Linnet said, trying not to laugh.

Andrew Pennington looked seriously annoyed and gathered up th e do c ument s. 'Perhaps some other time would be better,' h e sa id coldly. 'We mu stn ' t mi ss e njoying the sce nery.'

As they left, Cornelia Rob so n hurried in. Mi ss Bow ers followed her cahnly.

' Wh e r e hav e you b ee n?' Mi ss Van Schuyl e r sa id c ro ss l y. 'Cor n e li a, I expect a littl e attention from you. Mi ss Bowers, g iv e 1ne my m e dicine and find m e a c hair outside on the de c k.

Co rn eli a, bring my sewing.'

After the three women left, Mr Ferguson remarked to the a ln1o t en1pty room, ' I'd like to kill that woman.'

Poirot, who had noted everything that had happened in the room, asked with interest , 'She is a type you dislike?'

Definitely. She's never worked. She just uses people. There a r e a lot of people on thi s boat that the world would be better \Vithout.'

'Rea lly?'

Yes. That girl in here just now, signing documents. She's one of the ri c hest women in England - and has never done a day's vvo rk .'

' Who told you that she was so rich?' asked Poirot.

'A man who works with his hands and is proud of it.'

'Me, I work with my brain and am proud of it ,' said Poirot.

'T hey ought to be shot, all of them!'

'W hat a fondne ss you have for violence!'

'Yo u've got to destroy before you can build up.'

' It i s certainly much easier, noisier and more exciting.'

' What do you do for a living?' the young man asked. 'Nothing at a ll , I expec t. You probably call yourself a middleman.'

I am not a n1.iddl e man. I an1 a top m a n ,' Hercule Poirot said rather arrogantly.

'W hat are you?'

' I am a detective, ' said Hercule Poirot proudly.

' No! Are you here to protect that rich girl? Does she think he needs a stupid det ec tiv e with her?'

' I have no connection with the Doyles,' said Poirot coldly. ' I a n1 on holiday. And you? Are you not on holiday too?'

' I'tn studying conditions,' Ferguson said mysteriously.

' Very interesting, ' Poirot said to him se lf

He left the publi c lounge and walked along the right - hand deck. A s he reached the back of th e steatnboat , he almost walked

int o a woma n w ith a n exc it abl e d a rk face . Sh e was n ea tly dr esse d in a ma id 's unifo rn1 a nd was t alkin g t o a bi g, we ll - built ma n - p e rh ap s one of th e K arnak ' s e n g i nee r s. A l oo k o f a l a r m a nd g uilt app ea r e d o n b o th th e ir faces w h e n th ey saw Poir o t.

T h e n , as h e co ntinu e d hi s wa lk b ac k al o n g th e l e ft - h a nd sid e of th e b oa t , a d oo r o p e n e d a nd Mr s O tt erbourn e n ea rl y f ell int o hi s a rm s.

'Dea r Mr P o ir o t - so ve r y so rr y,' sh e ap o log i ze d. 'T h e b oa t m oves so mu ch. N eve r r ea ll y h app y o n th e w a t e r . .. '

Po ir o t ge ntly t oo k h e r a rn1. ' I w ill se nd yo ur d au g ht e r t o yo u , M a d a m e . R e turn t o yo ur ca bin. T h e wa t e r i s t oo r o u g h . Yo u n1i g ht b e swe pt o ff th e d ec k. '

Mrs O tt e rbourn e h es it at e d and th en we nt b ac k into h er cabi n .

P o i r ot f o und R osa li e sittin g b e t wee n Mr s All e rt on an d T im. Sh e was c h attin g a nd l au g hin g quit e h appil y, but h e r f ace chan ge d wh e n M o n si e ur P o ir o t sa id , ' Yo ur m o th e r wa nt s yo u , M a d emo i se ll e .'

A s Rosa li e hur r i e d t o h e r n1o th e r 's cabin , Mr s All e rt o n said , ' I think sh e's a ve r y co mpli c at e d g irl - ve r y unh app y .'

' W ell , I supp ose we've all g ot o ur priva te tr o uble s,' T im re plie d .

•

T h at eve nin g, P o ir o t n o ti ce d Mr s All e rt on t a lkin g t o Mi ss Va n S chu y l e r. A s h e p asse d th e ir c h a ir s, Mr s All e rt o n cl ose d o n e eye a nd o p e n e d it aga in. Sh e was say in g, ' O f co u rse a t Ca l f ri es Cas tl e - th e d ea r Prin ce ... '

Cor n eli a was li st e nin g h appily t o D r B ess n e r as th e G e rm a n t o ld h e r eve r y thin g h e h a d r ea d in hi s g uid eb oo k ab o ut a n c i e nt Egy pt.

P o ir o t al so h ea rd T i m All e rton say, ' It 's a horribl e wo rld ... '

R osa li e O tt e rbourn e a n swere d , ' It 's un fa ir ; so m e p eo pl e h ave eve r y thi ng .'

P o iro t was g l a d th a t he was n o l o n ge r yo un g .

Strikes

The Karnak's next stop was at Abu Simbel. It was a beautiful, warn1 day and everybody wanted to see the ancient t e mple.

Sitnon Doyle had a quiet word with Poirot. 'I'm so glad we c a tn e on this trip. Linnet's faced this business at last and we've agree d that we aren't going to l e t Jackie upset us any more . We're g o in g to e njoy our honeymoon. That ought to show her. '

'Yes,' sa id Poirot thoughtfully.

Linnet came along the deck, smiling and looking beautiful as u su al. She greeted Poirot coolly and then took her husband away. Poirot re alized that his critical attitude had made him unpopular. Linnet ex pected to be admired for everything she was or did.

Soon the official guide led the group from the Karnak toward s Abu Simbel. Poirot walked beside Andrew Pennington.

' M ad a me Doyle was telling me that you came over on the Car manic. Did you meet friends of mine who were on that ship - th e Rushington Smiths? ' asked Poirot.

' I don ' t remember the name. The boat was full and the weather was bad, so a lot of passengers rarely appeared.'

'B ut now the pleasant coincidence of running into Madame Doyle and her husband . You had no ide a they were married?'

'No. Mrs Doyle had written, but I didn ' t receiv e the letter until aft er our unexpected meeting in Cairo,' explained Pennington.

'Yo u hav e known her for many years, I under stand?'

'S in ce she was a small child. H e r father and I were great friends. A very fine man, Melhuish Ridgeway - and a very su ccess ful one.'

' Hi s d aughter will receive a very large fortune when her fa th e r die s, I und e rstand. Ah , pardon*- that i s a private matter.'

Andr e w P e nnington seemed slightly amused. 'Oh, most

* pardo11: Frenc h for 's orry'

people know that Linnet is a very wealthy woman.'

'Will the recent fall in th e stock market affect h e r fortune?'

Pennington hesitated but finally said, 'Yes, of course, to some d eg ree. The financial situation for everyone is difficult these days.'

Inside the temple, Signor Richetti examined the painted walls and Dr Bessner read aloud to Cornelia from his guidebook. She list e ned with great attention until Mi ss Van Schuyler called for her. Poirot realized that someone was always either instructing the poor girl or giving her orders.

Simon said suddenly, 'Linnet, let 's get out of here. I don't like th ese old figures . There's something frightening about them.'

Linnet laughed, but they walked into the sunlight. Then they sat against the side of the hill.

' How lovely the sun is,' thought Linnet . 'How warm - how safe .. . how lovely to be me - me ... me ... Linnet . . . '

Simon also looked co ntent. What a fool he'd been to be worried that fir st night ... There was nothing to worry about ... Everything was all right ... After all, one could trust Jackie ...

Suddenly, there was a shout - people were running towards hitn waving their arms. Simon jumped to his feet and dragged Linnet with him. Not a minute too soo n. An enortnous ro c k crashed down pa st them. IfLinn e t had remain e d where she was, she would have been kill e d.

White-faced, Linnet and Sin1.on held each other. H e rcule Poirot and Tim Allerton ran up to them.

'Mafoi!* Madame , that was cl ose.'

They saw nothing when they looked up at the hill. But Poirot retnember e d seeing so me people walking along the p a th at the top when they had first stepped on shore.

'She'll pay for thi s!' Simon sai d violently. Then h e looked quickly at Tim Allerton and was silent.

* M a foi l: a Fre n c h ex press ion of surpri se

' Wa s it a n accident?' wondered Tim aloud. 'Or did some fool pus h it ?'

Linnet was very pale and found it difficult to speak. 'I think,' sh e a id slowly, 'some fool must have pushed it. '

As they walked back to the Karnak , Sitnon stopped suddenly in surpri se . J ac quelin e de Bellefort was ju st c oming off the boat.

' Goo d God!' Simon whispered. ' It was an accident, a fter all. I thought - I thought -'

'Goo d morning, ' Jacqueline said, and walked towards the t e tnple.

Poirot looke d ba c k at the beach. H e co uld see Mis s Van S c hu yle r a nd Mis s Bowers, and there was Mrs All e rton with Mrs Otterbourne. H e could not see the others .

•

T h e next day, n1ost of the pass e ng e rs from th e Karnak de c ided to v i sit the Second Cataract.

H e r c ule Poirot and Mrs Allerton walked slowly up the hill together. Mr s Allerton had learned to like the little man very n1uch, a lthough Tim was always trying to keep her away from him. She found h e rself suddenly telling him about h e r dislik e of Joann a Southwood.

Tim was chatting to Ro sa lie Otterbourne about his bad luck in life : poor health , but not bad enough to be interestin g, very littl e money, nothing much to do.

Rosalie interrupted , 'But you have your mother! She look s l o v el y - so calm - but atnusing, too.'

Tim was surprised a nd plea se d. 'Mother? She's wonderful, i. n't sh e? It 's ni ce of you to see it.' H e was embarrassed that he c o uldn't say anything nice about her mother.

Mi ss Van Schuyler had stayed on th e boat. Sh e was too old for the climb up to the Second Cataract. Sh e complained about C ornelia to Miss Bowers.

'She rushed away without a word to n1e, and I sa w her talking to that very unpleasant young man, Fergu so n.'

Miss Bowers looked at the group as they walked down the hill. 'Miss Robson is with Dr Bessner now. '

Miss Van Schuyler was pleased with this arrangement . She had learned that Dr Bessner was a w ell - known, fashionable doctor in Europe. She decided to be polite to him in case she needed his professional services before the journey was over.

When the group returned to the Karnak Linnet cried, 'A telegram for me. How nice!' She seized it from the board and opened it.

'I don ' t understand - potatoes , beans, onions - what does it mean, Simon?'

Suddenly, an angry voice said, 'Excuse me, that telegram is for n1e,' and Signor Richetti took it rudely from h e r hand.

'I am so sorry, Signor Richetti. You see, my name was Ridgeway before I married, so . . . '

She smiled at Signor Richetti, but he did not excuse her mistake just because she was pretty.

'Names should be read carefully,' he said coldly.

Linnet turned away. 'These Italians are so rude,' she said angrily to Simon. The two of them went on shore alone .

Poirot, watching frotn the deck, turned to see Jacqueline de Bellefort beside hitn. Instead of looking amused or evil, she looked ill, as if a fire was burning inside her.

'They don't care any more. I can't hurt them. You were right. I ought not to hav e come, but I can't go back. I will not allow them to be happy together. I'd rather kill him . . . '

She turned suddenly and hurried away.

Poirot, staring after her, felt a hand on his shoulder. It was an old friend, Colonel Race, a man who travell e d round the world solving important cases for the Briti sh government. He and Poirot had n1et a year previously, at a dinner party in London

that had ended with the death of their host.

'Your friend seems a bit upset, Monsieur Poirot.'

' Colonel Race! What are you doing here?'

'I'm on the return journey to Shellal with you. I'm interested in one of the Karnak's passengers, but unfortunately I don't know which one,' explained Colonel Race rather mysteriously. ' There's been a lot of political trouble out here - violence, 1nurders. Our spies have told us that the cleverest of the leaders - the brains - is on this boat, but we don't have his name or d e scription. Have you got any ideas?'

'An idea, but nothing more than that,' Poirot said thoughtfully.

Race knew that Poirot never spoke unless he was sure. Poirot rubbed his nose and said unhappily, 'There is something el se happening on this boat that is causing me much concern.'

'Tell me about it,' Race said with interest.

'Think about this,' said Poirot. 'A has wronged B. B desires revenge and threatens A. Both women are on this boat.'

'Don't worry,' said Race. 'People - especially womenwho talk about what they are going to do don ' t usually do it. Anything else?'

'Yesterday A had a very close escape from death, the kind of death that might conveniently be called an accident.'

'Arranged by B?'

'No, that is the point. B did not do it. It was not possible.'

'Then it wa s an accident. Coincidences do happen.'

'I suppose so, ' agreed Poirot, 'but I do not like such accidents.'

'Is A a particularly unpleasant person?' asked Race.

'Absolutely not. A i s a charming, rich and beautiful young lady. And if I am right, and I am constantly in the habit of being right, then there is a matter for serious concern. And now you t ell me there i s a man on the Karnak who kills.'

'He doesn't usually kill charming young ladies.'

'Today I advised A, Madame Doyle, to take another route and not to return on this boat,' said Poirot . 'But she and her husband would not agree. I pray to heaven that we may arrive at Shellal without disaster - but I, Hercule Poirot, I am afraid.'

•

On the following evening the Karnak stopped at Abu Simbel, giving the passengers the opportunity for a second visit to the temple.

'There's so much to see!' Cornelia Robson said excitedly to Mr Ferguson. 'I wish Dr Bessner was here. He'd explain it all to me.'

'How can you like that boring old fool? And that old woman. She tr ea ts you like a dog. You're as good as they are!'

'But I'm not,' protested Cornelia. 'Cousin Marie is very cultured, and ... '

'Cultured! That word makes me sick.' Ferguson paused. 'Don't you realize -as an American- that everyone is born free and equal?'

'Of course people aren't equal,' said Cornelia calmly. 'I'm not beautiful and rich like Mrs Doyle.'

'Mrs Doyle!' shouted Ferguson. 'She's the sort of woman who ought to be shot as an example.'

There was an uncomfortable silence. But before they returned to the Karnak, Ferguson said, 'You're the nicest person on the boat. Remember that.'

Feeling unu sually pleased, Cornelia hurried into the public lounge to find Miss Van Schuyler.

The old lady looked at her watch. 'You've been a long time!' she said crossly. 'And what have you done with my velvet shawl? I had it in here after dinner. It was on that chair.'

'I ca n't see it anywhere, Cousin Mari e,' said Cornelia after a quick sea r c h .

Miss Van Schuyler left the room in a bad temper, with or nelia and Miss Bowers following behind.

Mo st of the other passengers had also gone to bed early. The ])oy le s ren1ained in the lounge, playing cards with Pennington and Colonel Race at a table in a corner. Fanthorp was reading a book. The only other passenger in the lounge was Hercule Poi r o t , who could not stop yawning. He, too, decided on an ea rly night.

A s h e walked sleepily towards his cabin, Poirot met Jacqueline hurrying along the deck.

'You look sleepy, Monsieur Poirot .'

' Mais oui* - I can hardly keep my eyes open,' said Poirot. 'It h as been a very hot day - no wind at all.'

' Yes,' Jacqueline said thoughtfully. 'It's been the sort of day w h en things -break! When one can't go on ... '

She seeme d tense and nervous, but she relaxed when she said g ood night. Her eyes met his, just for a moment. Poi rot remembered t h at look the next day. Had there be e n a cry for help?

He co ntinued to his cabin.

After dealing with Miss Van Schuyler's many needs, Cornelia de c ided that she was not sleepy and returned to the public lo un ge . She looked up from her sewing when the door opened a nd Ja cq uelin e de Bellefort came in. Jacqueline pressed the bell for a waiter, then sat down with Cornelia.

'A lovely night, ' Jacqueline commented. 'A real honeymoon night, isn't it?' Her eyes rested on Linnet Doyle.

When the waiter arrived, Jacqueline ordered a large drink. Sin1on looked up from hi s cards with a faint line of worry on hi s forehead.

When her drink came, Jacqueline picked it up and said, ' Well, h e r e's to crime.' She finished it quickly and ordered another.

* mais oui: a Fre n c h express i on of agree tn e nt

A ga in , Simon lo o k e d ac r oss th e r oo m at h e r. H e see m e d t o l ose hi s co n ce ntr a ti o n in th e ca rd ga m e, a nd soo n L inn e t a nd Col one l R ace st oo d up t o l eave

'Co min g, Simo n ?' as k e d Linn e t .

' N o t ye t. I think I'll h ave a drink fir st. '

Pen nin g t o n f ini sh e d hi s drink a nd le ft. Co rn e li a b ega n t o ga th e r up h e r sew in g .

' Pl ease don ' t go t o b e d , Mi ss R o b so n ,' sa id J ac qu elin e . 'Do n ' t l eave m e . W e g irl s n1u st supp o rt eac h o th e r. '

Co rn e li a sa t d ow n aga in.

J acq u e lin e's seco nd d r ink a r r ive d , and sh e b ega n t o sin g q ui e tl y : (H e was h er man an d h e did h er w rong . .. '

M r F a nth o rp turn e d a p age of hi s b oo k. Simon Doyl e p i c k e d up a m agaz in e .

' R ea ll y, I think I'll go t o b e d ,' sa id C orn eli a. ' It 's ve r y l a t e .'

' I fo rbid y ou to go,' J ac qu eline r epli e d. ' T e ll m e ab o ut yo ur se l£ '

Co rn e li a was co nfu se d. O b v i o u sl y J ac qu e lin e w as drinkin g t oo n1u c h. But th e r e was so m e thin g el se . .. J ac qu e lin e w as t a lki ng t o h e r - was l oo kin g a t h e r - but it see m e d th a t th e wo rd s sh e sa id we r e m ea nt for so m eo n e e lse . But Co rn e li a did as r e qu es t e d a nd b ega n te llin g J ac qu e lin e e v e r y d e t a il of h e r li fe . A ga in , sh e se n se d th a t J ac qu e lin e was li st e nin g t o so m e thin g e l se -o r p e rh ap s for so m e thin g e lse?

T h e n J ac qu e lin e turn e d h e r h ea d a nd sp o k e to Sim o n D oyl e : ' Rin g th e b ell , Sim o n . I wa nt a n o th e r d r ink. '

' It 's l a t e - a nd yo u 've h a d e n o u g h t o drink , J ac ki e .'

J acq u eline l au g h e d. 'S im o n 's afr aid I'm g oin g t o t e ll yo u th e st o r y of my life,' sh e sa id t o Co rn e li a . ' H e tr ea t e d m e r a th e r b adl y, didn ' t yo u , Sim o n ?'

Co rn e li a was d ee pl y e mb a rr asse d , but a lso pl easa ntl y exc it e d. Wh a t a n a n g r y l oo k Si mo n Doyl e h a d o n hi s face .

' You' r e drunk ,' h e sa id. ' Yo u ' r e m a kin g a f o ol of yo ur se l f.'

Co rn e li a began to stand up. 'I really mu st - it' s so late -'

No, stay and listen. He's embarrassed. H e wants m e to b e hav e ' \ve il" , don ' t you, Simon? But I'm going to talk - a lot.'

]i1n Fanthorp carefully shut his book , yawned, looked at hi s wa t c h and left the room. A very British performance.

J acq u e line stared at Simon. 'I told you,' she said, 'that I'd kill y ou before I'd let you go to another wotnan ... You don't think I n1 ea nt that? You)re wrong. I've only been - waiting. You're n1 in e . Do you hear?'

Simon remained silent. Jacqueline reached into in her handbag, a nd then leant forward with something shiny in her hand.

' I ' ll shoot you like a dog - like th e dirty dog you are ... ' Simon jumped to his feet, but at the same moment Jacqueline fired th e gun.

Simon fell, twisted across a chair . . . Cornelia screamed and rushed to the door. Jim Fanthorp was outside on the deck.

' Mr Fanthorp!' Cornelia cried. 'Oh! She 's shot him!'

Simon Doyle still lay across the chair. Jacqueline stood taring at the blood on his trouser leg, where he was holding a h and k erc hief to the wound.

'I didn't mean ... Oh, my God, I didn't really mean ... '

The pistol dropp e d from her nervous fingers to the floor. She ki cked it away and it slid under one of the sofas .

Simon whispered : 'Fanthorp - there 's so meon e com ing ... Say it's all right- an accident- something.'

Fanthorp spoke quickly to the waiter who was hurrying through the door: 'All right- everything's all right. Just a bit of fun.' The Nubian left again.

J ac queline began crying uncontrollably. 'Oh, God, I want to die ... Oh, what have I don e -w h at have I done?'

Simon's face was twisted with pain. 'Take her to her ca bin , Fant horp. Mi ss Robson, get that hospital nurse of yours to look aft e r her. Don't leave her alone. Then bring old Bessner her e .

And please don't let any news of this get to my wife.'

Fanthorp and Cornelia soon had Jacqueline back in her cabin, but she would not caln1 down. 'I'll kill n1yself ... Oh, Simon -Simon!'

Fanthorp said to Cornelia, 'Find Miss Bowers. I'll stay with her.'

'Simon could bleed to death!' Jacqueline cried. 'I mu st help him. Let me go!'

Fanthorp held her by her shoulders. 'Quietly- quietly. You must stay here. He'll be all right.'

Very soon Cornelia returned with Miss Bowers, who immediately took charge of the situation.

Some minutes later, Fanthorp managed to wake the heavily sleeping Dr Bessner and the two men hurried back to the lounge. Simon, grey-faced, had his head against an open window, breathing in the cool night air. The handkerchief now lay in a pool of blood on the floor.

The doctor examined Simon's leg and said, 'Yes, it is bad ... The bone is broken . And he has lost a lot ofblood. Mr Fanthorp, you and I n1ust carry him to my cabin. He cannot walk.'

There, Dr Bessner took care of Simon's bullet wound and then gave him something to help him sleep.

'What should we do about your wife?' he asked.

Simon said weakly, 'She needn't know until morning. And I -you mustn't blame Jackie. I treated her badly. She didn't know what she was doing . . .. Sotneone ought to stay with her. She might hurt herself- '

'It's all right, Mr Doyle,' said Fanthorp. 'Miss Bowers is going to stay with her all night.'

Sin1on relaxed, then opened his eyes again. 'Fanthorp?' he called. 'The pistol ... ought not to leave it lying about.'

Fanthorp understood. 'Quite right. I'll go and get it now.'

Three minutes l ater, he was back at Bessner's cabin. He spoke