Death On The Nile - Christie Agatha (электронные книги бесплатно .TXT) 📗

The compartment in which Poirot found himself was occupied by an elderly lady with a very wrinkled face, a stiff white stock, a good many diamonds and an expression of reptilian contempt for the majority of mankind.

She treated Poirot to an aristocratic glare and retired behind the pages of an American magazine. A big, rather clumsy young woman of under thirty was sitting opposite her. She had eager brown eyes rather like a dog's, untidy hair, and a terrific air of willingness to please. At intervals the old lady looked over the top of her magazine and snapped an order at her.

"Cornelia, collect the rugs. When we arrive look after my dressing-case. On no account let any one else handle it. Don't forget my paper-cutter." The train run was brief. In ten minutes' time they came to rest on the jetty where the S.S. Karnak was awaiting them. The Otterbournes were already on board.

The Karnak was a smaller steamer than the Papyrus and the Lotus, the First Cataract steamers which are too large to pass through the locks of the Assuan dam.

The passengers went on board and were shown their accommodation. Since the boat was not full most of the passengers had cabins on the promenade deck. The entire forward part of this deck was occupied by an observation saloon all glass enclosed where the passengers could sit and watch the river unfold before them.

On the deck below was a smoking-room and small drawing-room and on the deck below that, the dining-saloon.

Having seen his possessions disposed in his cabin, Poirot came out on the deck again to watch the process of departure. He joined Rosalie Otterbourne who was leaning over the side.

"So now we journey into Nubia. You are pleased, Mademoiselle?" The girl drew a deep breath.

"Yes. I feel that one's really getting away from things at last." She made a gesture with her hand. There was a savage aspect about the sheet of water in front of them, the masses of rock without vegetation that came down to the water's edge-here and there a trace of houses abandoned and ruined as a result of the damming up of the waters. The whole scene had a melancholy, almost sinister charm.

"Away from people," said Rosalie Otterbourne. "Except those of our own number, Mademoiselle?" She shrugged her shoulders. Then she said: "There's something about this country that makes me feel wicked. It brings to the surface all the things that are bofiing inside one. Everything's so unfair-so unjust." "I wonder. You cannot judge by material evidence." Rosalie muttered: "Look at-at some people's mothers-and look at mine. There is no God but Sex and Salome Otterbourne is its Prophet." She stopped. "I shouldn't have said that, I suppose." Poirot made a gesture with his hands.

"Why not say it-to The? I am one of those who hear many things. If, as yon say, you boil inside-like the jam-Eh bien, let the scum come to the surface-and then one can take it off with a spoon, so."

He made the gesture of dropping something into the Nile.

"There, it has gone." Rosalie said:

"What an extraordinary man you are!" Her sulky mouth twisted into a smile.

Then she suddenly stiffened as she exclaimed. "Why, here are Mrs. Doyle and her husband! I had no idea they were coming on this trip!"

Linnet had just emerged from a cabin half-way along the deck. Simon was behind her. Poirot was almost startled by the look of her-so radiant, so assured.

She looked positively arrogant with happiness. Simon Doyle, too, was a transformed being. He was grinning from ear to ear and looking like a happy schoolboy.

"This is grand," he said as he too leaned on the rail. "I'm really looking forward to this trip, aren't you, Linnet? It feels somehow, so much less touristy-as though we were really going into the heart of Egypt."

His wife responded quickly.

"I know. It's so much wilder, somehow."

Her hand slipped through his arm. He pressed it close to his side·

"We're off, Lin," he murmured.

The steamer was drawing away from the jetty. They had started on their seven days' journey to the Second Cataract and back.

Behind them a light silvery laugh rang out. Linnet whipped round.

Jacqueline de Bellefort was standing there. She seemed amused.

"Hallo, Linnet! I didn't expect to find you here. I thought you said you were staying at Assuan another ten days. This is a surprise!"

"You-you didn't-" Linnet's tongue stammered. She forced a ghastly conventional smile. "I didn't expect to see you either."

"No?"

Jacqueline moved away to the other side of the boat. Linnet's grasp on her husband's arm tightened.

"Simon-Simon-"

All Doyle's good-natured pleasure had gone. He looked furious. His hands clenched themselves in spite of his effort at self-control.

The two of them moved a little away. Without turning his head Poirot caught scraps of disjointed words.

·.. turn back… impossible… we could…" and then slightly louder, Doyle's voice, despairing but grim:

"We can't run away forever, Lin. We've got to go through with it now.." It was some hours later. Daylight was just fading. Poirot stood in the glass-enclosed saloon looking straight ahead. The Karnak was going through a narrow gorge. The rocks came down with a kind of sheer ferocity to the river flowing deep and swift between them. They were in Nubia now.

He heard a movement and Linnet Doyle stood by his side.

Her fingers twisted and untwisted themselves, she looked as he had never yet seen her look. There was about her the air ora bewildered child. She said:

"M. Poirot, I'm afraid-I'm afraid of everything. I've never felt like this before. All these wild rocks and the awful grimness and starkness. Where are we going? What's going to happen? I'm afraid, I tell you. Every one hates me. I've never felt like that before. I've always been nice to peopleI've done things for them-and they hate me-lots of people hate me cxcept for Simon I'm surrounded by enemies It's terrible to feel-that there are people who hate you…

"But what is all this, Madame?" She shook her head.

"I suppose-it's nerves… I just feel that everything's unsafe all around me.

She cast a quick nervous glance over her shoulder. Then she said abruptly: "How will all this end? We're caught here. Trapped. There's no way out.

We've got to go on. I-I don't know where I am." She slipped down on to a seat. Poirot looked down on her gravely; his glance was not untinged with compassion.

She said: "How did she know we were coming on this boat? How could she have known?" Poirot shook his head as he answered.

"She has brains, you know.",

"I feel as though I shall never escape from her."

Poirot said: "There is one plan you might have adopted. In fact I am surprised that it did not occur to you. After all, with you, Madame, money is no object. Why did you not engage your own private dahabiyah?" Linnet shook her head rather helplessly.

"If we'd known about all this-but you see we didn't-then. And it was difficult… "She flashed out with sudden impatience. "Oh! you don't understand half my difficulties. I've got to be careful with Simon He's-he's absurdly sensitive-about money. About my having so much! He wanted me to go to some little place in Spain with him-he--wanted to pay all our honeymoon expenses himself.

As if it mattered.t Men are stupid! He's got to get used to to-living comfortably. The mere idea ofa dahabiyah upset him-the the needless expense.

I've got to educate him-gradually." She looked up, bit her lip vexedly, as though feeling that she had been led into discussing her difficulties rather too unguardedly.

She got up.

"I must change. I'm sorry, M. Poirot, I'm afraid I've been talking a lot of foolish nonsense."