Agatha Christie - Appointment with Death

Miss Pierce looked wistful and excited. Poirot said, somewhat sententiously: "It is true that there are many strange things in life."

"I didn't really take in this morning who you are," said Miss Pierce, clasping her hands. "Of course you are that very famous detective! I read all about the A.B.C. case. It was so thrilling. I had actually a post as governess near Doncaster at the time."

Poirot murmured something. Miss Pierce went on with growing agitation: "That is why I felt that perhaps I had been wrong this morning. One must always tell everything, must one, of even the smallest detail, however unrelated it may seem. Because, of course, if you are mixed up in this, poor Mrs. Boynton must have been murdered! I see that now. I suppose Mr. Mah Mood-I cannot remember his name-but the dragoman, I mean-I suppose he could not be a Bolshevik agent? Or even, perhaps, Miss King's? I believe many quite well brought up young girls of good family belong to these dreadful Communists! That's why I wondered if I ought to tell you-because, you see, it was rather peculiar when one comes to think of it."

"Precisely," said Poirot. "And therefore you will tell me all about it."

"Well, it's not really anything very much. It's only that on the next morning after Mrs. Boynton's death I was up rather early and I looked out of my tent to see the effect of the sunrise, you know. Only of course it wasn't actually sunrise because the sun must have risen quite an hour before. But it was early-"

"Yes, yes. And you saw?"

"That's the curious thing-at least at the time it didn't seem much. It was only that I saw that Boynton girl come out of her tent and fling something right out into the stream. Nothing in that, of course, but it glittered in the sunlight! As it went through the air. It glittered, you know."

"Which Boynton girl was it?"

"I think it was the one they call Carol-a very nice-looking girl-so like her brother. Really they might be twins. Or, of course, it might have been the youngest one. The sun was in my eyes so I couldn't quite see. But I don't think the hair was red-just bronze. I'm so fond or that coppery bronze hair! Red hair always says carrots to me!" She tittered.

"And she threw away a brightly glittering object?" said Poirot.

"Yes. And, of course, as I said, I didn't think much of it at the time. But later I had walked along the stream and Miss King was there. And there amongst a lot of other very unsuitable things-even a tin or two-I saw a little bright metal box. Not an exact square. A sort of long square if you understand what I mean-"

"But, yes, I understand perfectly. About so long?"

"Yes, how clever of you! And I thought to myself, 'I suppose that's what the Boynton girl threw away, but it's a nice little box.' And just out of curiosity I picked it up and opened it. It had a kind of syringe inside-the same thing they stuck into my arm when I was being inoculated for typhoid. And I thought how curious to throw it away like that because it didn't seem broken or anything. But just as I was wondering Miss King spoke behind me. I hadn't heard her come up. And she said, 'Oh, thank you-that's my hypodermic. I was coming to look for it.' So I gave it to her and she went back to the camp with it."

Miss Pierce paused and then went on hurriedly: "And, of course, I expect there is nothing in it-only it did seem a little curious that Carol Boynton should throw away Miss King's syringe. I mean, it was odd, if you know what I mean. Though of course I expect there is a very good explanation."

She paused, looking expectantly at Poirot.

His face was grave. "Thank you Mademoiselle. What you have told me may not be important in itself, but I will tell you this! It completes my case! Everything is now clear and in order."

"Oh, really?" Miss Pierce looked as flushed and pleased as a child.

Poirot escorted her to the hotel.

Back in his own room he added one line to his memorandum:

"Point No. 10. I never forget. Remember that I've never forgotten anything…"

He nodded his head. "Mais oui," he said. "It is all clear now!"

"My preparations are complete," said Hercule Poirot. With a little sigh, he stepped back a pace or two and contemplated his arrangement of one of the unoccupied hotel bedrooms.

Colonel Carbury, leaning inelegantly against the bed which had been pushed against the wall, smiled as he puffed at his pipe.

"Funny feller, aren't you, Poirot?" he said. "Like to dramatize things."

"Perhaps that is true," admitted the little detective. "But, indeed, it is not all self-indulgence. If one plays a comedy, one must first set the scene."

"Is this a comedy?"

"Even if it is a tragedy-there, too, the decor must be correct."

Colonel Carbury looked at him curiously. "Well," he said. "It's up to you! I don't know what you're driving at. I gather, though, that you've got something."

"I shall have the honor to present to you what you asked me for-the truth!"

"Do you think we can get a conviction?"

"That, my friend, I did not promise you."

"True enough. Maybe I'm glad you haven't. It depends."

"My arguments are mainly psychological," said Poirot.

Colonel Carburv sighed. "I was afraid they might be."

"But they will convince you," Poirot reassured him. "Oh, yes, they will convince you. The truth, I have always thought, is curious and beautiful."

"Sometimes," said Colonel Carbury, "it's damned unpleasant."

"No, no." Poirot was earnest. "You take there the personal view. Take instead, the abstract, the detached point of vision. Then the absolute logic of events is fascinating and orderly."

"I'll try and look on it that way," said the Colonel.

Poirot glanced at his watch, a large grotesque turnip of a watch.

"Family heirloom?" inquired Carbury interestedly.

"But, yes, indeed, it belonged to my grandfather."

"Thought it might have done."

"It is time to commence our proceedings," said Poirot. "You, mon Colonel, will sit here behind this table in an official position."

"Oh, all right," Carbury grunted. "You don't want me to put my uniform on, do you?"

"No, no. If you would permit that I straightened your tie."

He suited the action to the word. Colonel Carbury grinned again, sat down in the chair indicated and a moment later, unconsciously, tweaked his tie around under his left ear again.

"Here," continued Poirot, slightly altering the position of the chairs, "we place la famille Boynton. And over here," he went on, "we will place the three outsiders who have a definite stake in the case. Dr. Gerard, on whose evidence the case for the prosecution depends. Miss Sarah King, who has two separate interests in the case, a personal one and that of medical examiner. Also M. Jefferson Cope, who was on intimate terms with the Boyntons and so may be definitely described as an interested party."

He broke off. "Aha-here they come."

He opened the door to admit the party.

Lennox Boynton and his wife came in first. Raymond and Carol followed. Ginevra walked by herself, a faint faraway smile on her lips. Dr. Gerard and Sarah King brought up the rear. Mr. Jefferson Cope was a few minutes late and came in with an apology.

When he had taken his place, Poirot stepped forward.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "this is an entirely informal gathering. It has come about through the accident of my presence in Amman. Colonel Carbury did me the honor to consult me-"

Poirot was interrupted. The interruption came from what was seemingly the most unlikely quarter. Lennox Boynton said suddenly and pugnaciously: "Why? Why the devil should he bring you into this business?"

Poirot waved a hand gracefully. "Me, I am often called in cases of sudden death."

Lennox Boynton said: "Doctors send for you whenever there is a case of heart failure?"