Agatha Christie - Death Comes as the End

"I was thinking of you."

He took her hand and she did not draw it away. He sang very softly under his breath:

"My sister is like the persea tree..."

He felt her hand tremble in his, and heard the quickened pace of her breathing, and was satisfied at last...

III

Renisenb called Henet to her room.

Henet, hurrying in, came to an abrupt stop as she saw Renisenb standing by the open jewel box with the broken amulet in her hand. Renisenb's face was stern and angry.

"You put this jewel box in my room, didn't you, Henet? You wanted me to find that amulet. You wanted me one day -"

"To find out who had the other half? I see you have found out. Well, it's always as well to know, isn't it, Renisenb?"

Henet laughed spitefully.

"You wanted the knowledge to hurt me," said Renisenb, her anger still at white heat. "You like hurting people, don't you, Henet! You never say anything straight out. You wait and wait - until the best moment comes. You hate us all, don't you? You always have."

"The things you're saying, Renisenb! I'm sure you don't mean them!"

But there was no whine in Henet's voice now, only a sly triumph.

"You wanted to make trouble between me and Kameni. Well, there is no trouble."

"That's very nice and forgiving of you, I'm sure, Renisenb. You're quite different from Nofret, aren't you?"

"Do not let us talk of Nofret."

"No, better not, perhaps. Kameni's lucky as well as being good-looking, isn't he? It was lucky for him, I mean, that Nofret died when she did. She could have made a lot of trouble for him - with your father. She wouldn't have liked his marrying you - no, she wouldn't have liked it at all. In fact, I think she would have found some way of stopping it. I'm quite sure she would."

Renisenb looked at her with cold dislike.

"There is always poison in your tongue, Henet. It stings like a scorpion. But you cannot make me unhappy."

"Well, that's splendid, isn't it? You must be very much in love. Oh, he's a handsome young man is Kameni - and he knows how to sing a very pretty love song. He'll always get what he wants, never fear. I admire him, I really do. He always seems so simple and straightforward."

"What are you trying to say, Henet?"

"I'm just telling you that I admire Kameni. And I'm quite sure that he is simple and straightforward. It's not put on. The whole thing is quite like one of those tales the storytellers in the bazaars recite. The poor young scribe marrying the master's daughter and sharing the inheritance with her and living happily ever afterwards. Wonderful, what good luck a handsome young man always has."

"I am right," said Renisenb. "You do hate us."

"Now how can you say that, Renisenb, when you know how I've slaved for you all ever since your mother died?"

But there was still the evil triumph in Henet's voice rather than the customary whine.

Renisenb looked down again at the jewel box and suddenly another certainty came into her mind.

"It was you who put the gold lion necklace in this box. Don't deny it, Henet. I know, I tell you."

Henet's sly triumph died. She looked suddenly frightened.

"I couldn't help it, Renisenb. I was afraid..."

"What do you mean - afraid?"

Henet came a step nearer and lowered her voice.

"She gave it me - Nofret, I mean. Oh, some time before she died. She gave me one or two presents. Nofret was generous, you know. Oh, yes, she was generous."

"I dare say she paid you well."

"That's not a nice way of putting it, Renisenb. But I'm telling you all about it. She gave me the gold lion necklace and an amethyst clasp and one or two other things. And then, when that boy came out with his story of having seen a woman with that necklace on - well, I was afraid. I thought maybe they'd think that it was I who poisoned Yahmose's wine. So I put the necklace in the box."

"Is that the truth, Henet? Do you ever speak the truth?"

"I swear it's the truth, Renisenb. I was afraid..."

Renisenb looked at her curiously.

"You're shaking, Henet. You look as though you were afraid now."

"Yes, I am afraid... I've reason to be."

"Why? Tell me."

Henet licked her thin lips. She glanced sideways behind her. Her eyes came back like a hunted animal's.

"Tell me," said Renisenb.

Henet shook her head. She said in an uncertain voice:

"There's nothing to tell."

"You know too much, Henet. You've always known too much. You've enjoyed it, but now it's dangerous. That's it, isn't it?"

Henet shook her head again. Then she laughed maliciously.

"You wait, Renisenb. One day I shall hold the whip in this house - and crack it. Wait and see."

Renisenb drew herself up.

"You will not harm me, Henet. My mother will not let you harm me."

Henet's face changed - the eyes burned.

"I hated your mother," she said. "I always hated her... And you who have her eyes - and her voice - her beauty and her arrogance - I hate you, Renisenb."

Renisenb laughed.

"And at last - I've made you say it!"

SECOND MONTH OF SUMMER, 15TH DAY

Old Esa limped wearily into her room.

She was perplexed and very weary. Age, she realized, was at last taking toll of her. So far she had acknowledged her weariness of body but had been conscious of no weariness of mind. But now she had to admit that the strain of remaining mentally alert was taxing her bodily resources.

If she knew now, as she believed she did, from what quarter danger impended - Yet that knowledge permitted of no mental relaxation. Instead she had to be more than ever on her guard since she had deliberately drawn attention to herself. Proof - proof - she must get proof. But how?

It was there, she realized, that her age told against her. She was too tired to improvise - to make the mental creative effort. All she was capable of was defense - to remain alert, watchful, guarding herself.

For the killer - she had no illusions about that - would be quite ready to kill again.

Well, she had no intention of being the next victim. Poison, she felt sure, was the vehicle that would be employed. Violence was not conceivable, since she was never alone, but was always surrounded by servants. So it would be poison. Well, she could counter that. Renisenb should cook her food and bring it to her. She had a wine stand and jar brought to her room, and after a slave had tasted it, she waited twenty-four hours to make sure that no evil results followed. She made Renisenb share her food and her wine - although she had no fear for Renisenb - yet. It might be that there was no fear for Renisenb - ever. But of that one could not be sure.

Between whiles she sat motionless, driving her weary brain to devise means of proving the truth, or watching her little maid starching and pleating her linen dresses, or re-stringing necklaces and bracelets.

This evening she was very weary. She had joined Imhotep at his request to discuss the question of Renisenb's marriage before he himself spoke to his daughter.

Imhotep, shrunken and fretful, was a shadow of his former self. His manner had lost its pomposity and assurance. He leaned now on his mother's indomitable will and determination.

As for Esa, she had been fearful - very fearful - of saying the wrong thing. Lives might hang on an injudicious word.

Yes, she said at last, the idea of marriage was wise. And there was no time to go far afield for a husband amongst more important members of the family clan. After all, the female line was the important one - her husband would be only the administrator of the inheritance that came to Renisenb and Renisenb's children.

So it came to a question of Hori - a man of integrity, of old and long-proved friendship, the son of a small landowner whose estate had adjoined their own - or young Kameni, with his claims of cousinship.