Agatha Christie - Appointment with Death

"Yes, I think you may say that," murmured Nadine.

"Anyway," went on Mr. Cope, "you came to me yesterday and told me that you'd definitely decided to leave Lennox. I applauded your decision. It wasn't right-the life you were leading. You were quite honest with me. You didn't pretend to be more than just mildly fond of me. Well, that was all right with me. All I asked was the chance to look after you and treat you as you should be treated. I may say that afternoon was one of the happiest in my life."

Nadine cried out: "I'm sorry-I'm sorry."

"No, my dear, because all along I had a kind of feeling that it wasn't real. I felt it was quite on the cards that you would have changed your mind by the next morning. Well, things are different now. You and Lennox can lead a life of your own."

Nadine said quietly: "Yes. I can't leave Lennox. Please forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive," declared Mr. Cope. "You and I will go back to being old friends. We'll just forget about that afternoon."

Nadine placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Dear Jefferson, thank you. I'm going to find Lennox now."

She turned and left him. Mr. Cope went on alone.

Nadine found Lennox sitting at the top of the Graeco-Roman Theatre. He was in such a brown study that he hardly noticed her till she sank breathless at his side. "Lennox."

"Nadine." He half turned.

She said: "We haven't been able to talk until now. But you know, don't you, that I am not leaving you?"

He said gravely: "Did you ever really mean to, Nadine?"

She nodded. "Yes. You see, it seemed to be the only possible thing left to do. I hoped-I hoped that you would come after me. Poor Jefferson, how mean I have been to him."

Lennox gave a sudden curt laugh. "No, you haven't. Anyone who is as unselfish as Cope, ought to be given full scope for his nobility! And you were right, you know, Nadine. When you told me that you were going away with him you gave me the shock of my life. You know, honestly, I think I must have been going queer or something lately. Why the hell didn't I snap my fingers in Mother's face and go off with you when you wanted me to?"

She said gently: "You couldn't, my dear, you couldn't."

Lennox said musingly: "Mother was a damned queer character… I believe she'd got us all half hypnotized."

"She had."

Lennox mused a minute or two longer. Then he said: "When you told me that afternoon-it was just like being hit a crack on the head! I walked back half dazed, and then, suddenly I saw what a damned fool I'd been! I realized that there was only one thing to be done if I didn't want to lose you."

He felt her stiffen. His tone became grimmer. "I went and-"

"Don't…"

He gave her a quick glance. "I went and argued with her." He spoke with a complete change of tone-careful and rather toneless. "I told her that I'd got to choose between her and you-and that I chose you."

There was a pause. He repeated, in a tone of curious self-approval: "Yes, that's what I said to her."

Poirot met two people on his way home. The first was Mr. Jefferson Cope.

"M. Hercule Poirot? My name's Jefferson Cope."

The two men shook hands ceremoniously. Then, falling into step beside Poirot, Mr. Cope explained: "It's just got around to me that you're making a kind of routine inquiry into the death of my old friend, Mrs. Boynton. That certainly was a shocking business. Of course, mind you, the old lady ought never to have undertaken such a fatiguing journey. But she was headstrong, M. Poirot. Her family could do nothing with her. She was by way of being a household tyrant-had had her own way too long, I guess. It certainly is true that what she said went! Yes, sir, that certainly was true."

There was a momentary pause.

"I'd just like to tell you, M. Poirot, that I'm an old friend of the Boynton family. Naturally, they're all a good deal upset over this business, they're a trifle nervous and highly strung too, you know, so if there are any arrangements to be made: necessary formalities, arrangements for the funeral, transport of the body to Jerusalem, why, I'll take as much trouble as I can on their hands. Just call upon me for anything that needs doing."

"I am sure the family will appreciate your offer," said Poirot. He added: "You are, I think, a special friend of young Mrs. Boynton's."

Mr. Jefferson Cope went a little pink. "Well. We won't say much about that, M. Poirot. I hear you had an interview with Mrs. Lennox Boynton this morning and she may have given you a hint how things were between us, but that's all over now. Mrs. Boynton is a very fine woman and she feels that her first duty is to her husband in his sad bereavement."

There was a pause. Poirot received the information by a delicate gesture of the head. Then he murmured: "It is the desire of Colonel Carbury to have a clear statement concerning the afternoon of Mrs. Boynton's death. Can you give me an account of that afternoon?"

"Why, certainly. After our luncheon and a brief rest we set out for a kind of informal tour around. We escaped, I'm glad to say, without that pestilential dragoman. That man's just crazy on the subject of the Jews. I don't think he's quite sane on that point. Anyway, as I was saying, we set out. It was then that I had my interview with Nadine. Afterwards, she wished to be alone with her husband to discuss matters with him. I went off on my own, working gradually back towards the camp. About half way there I met the two English ladies who had been on the morning expedition. One of them's an English peeress, I understand."

Poirot said that such was the case.

"Ah, she's a fine woman, a very powerful intellect and very well informed. The other seemed to me rather a weak sister, and she looked about dead with fatigue. That expedition in the morning was very strenuous for an elderly lady, especially when she doesn't like heights. Well, as I was saying, I met these two ladies and was able to give them some information on the subject of the Nabateans. We went around a bit and got back to the camp about six. Lady Westholme insisted on having tea and I had the pleasure of having a cup with her. The tea was kind of weak but it had an interesting flavor. Then the boys laid the table for supper and sent out for the old lady, only to find that she was sitting there dead in her chair."

"Did you notice her as you walked home?"

"I did just notice she was there-it was her usual seat in the afternoon and evening, but I didn't pay special attention. I was just explaining to Lady Westholme the conditions of our recent slump. I had to keep an eye on Miss Pierce, too. She was so tired she kept turning her ankles."

"Thank you, Mr. Cope. May I be so indiscreet as to ask if Mrs. Boynton is likely to have left a large fortune?"

"A very considerable one. That is to say, strictly speaking, it was not hers to leave. She had a life interest in it and at her death it is divided among the late Elmer Boynton's children. Yes, they will all be very comfortably off now."

"Money," murmured Poirot, "makes a lot of difference. How many crimes have been committed for it!"

Mr. Cope looked a little startled. "Why, that's so, I suppose," he admitted.

Poirot smiled sweetly and murmured: "But there are so many motives for murder, are there not? Thank you, Mr. Cope, for your kind cooperation."

"You're welcome, I'm sure," said Mr. Cope. "Do I see Miss King sitting up there? I think I'll go and have a word with her."

Poirot continued to descend the hill. He met Miss Pierce fluttering up it. She greeted him breathlessly.

"Oh M. Poirot, I'm so glad to meet you. I've been talking to that very odd Boynton girl-the youngest one, you know. She has been saying the strangest things-about enemies and some Sheikh who wanted to kidnap her and how she has spies all around her. Really, it sounded most romantic! Lady Westholme says it is all nonsense and that she once had a redheaded kitchen maid who told lies just like that, but I think sometimes that Lady Westholme is rather hard. And after all, it might be true, mightn't it, M. Poirot? I read some years ago that one of the Czar's daughters was not killed in the Revolution in Russia but escaped secretly to America. The Grand Duchess Tatiana, I think it was. If so, this might be her daughter, mightn't it? She did hint at something Royal. And she has a look, don't you think? Rather Slavic, those cheekbones. How thrilling it would be!"