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

"I'will tell you exactly what occurred."

Yes, she was very happy-no doubt of it! This was her moment-her triumph!

What of it if her books were failing to seil-ff the stupid public that once had bought them and devoured them voraciously now turned to newer favourites.

Salome Otterbourne would once again be notorious. Her name would be in all the papers. She would be principal witness for the prosecution at the trial.

She took a deep breath and opened her mouth.

"It was when I went down to lunch. I hardly felt like eating-all the horror of the recent tragedy-well, I needn't go into that.

"Half-way down I remembered that I hadr left something in my cabin. I told Rosalie to go on without me. She did."

Mrs. Otterbourne paused a minute.

The curtain across the door moved slightly as though lifted by the wind, but none of the three men noticed it.

"I--er-" Mrs. Otterbourne paused. Thin ice to skate over here, but it must be done somehow. "I er had an arrangement with one of the er-personnel of the ship. He was to-er-get me something I needed, but I did not wish my daughter to know of it-she is inclined to be tiresome in certain ways- Not too good, this, but she could think of something that sounded better before it came to telling the story in court.

Race's eyebrows lifted as his eyes asked a question of Poirot.

Poirot gave an infinitesimal nod. His lips formed the word, "Drink." The curtain across the door moved again. Between it and the door itself something showed with a faint steel blue gleam.

Mrs. Otterbourne continued.

"The arrangement was that I should go round to the stern on the deck below this, and there I should find the man waiting for me. As I went along the deck a cabin door opened and somebody looked out. It was this girl-Louise Bourget or whatever her name is. She seemed to be expecting some one. When she saw it was me, she looked disappointed and went abruptly inside again. I didn't think anything of it, of course. I went along just as I had said I would and got the-the stuff from the man. I paid him and--er-just had a word with him. Then I started back. Just as I came round the corner I saw some one knock on the maid's door and go into the cabin." Race said: "And that person was-" Bang.t The noise of the explosion filled the cabin. There was an acrid sour smell of smoke. Mrs. Otterbourne turned slowly sideways as though in supreme inquiry, then her body slumped forward and she fell to the ground with a crash. From just behind her ear the blood flowed from a round neat hole.

There was a moment's stupefied silence.

Then both the able-bodied men jumped to their feet. The woman's body hindered their movements a little. Race bent over her while Poirot made a catlike jump for the door and the deck.

The deck was empty. On the ground just in front of the sill lay a big Colt revolver.

Poirot glanced in both directions-the deck was empty. He then sprinted towards the stern. As he rounded the corner he ran into Tim Allerton who was coming full tilt from the opposite direction.

"What the devil was that?" cried Tim breathlessly.

Poirot said sharply: "Did you meet any one on your way here?" "Meet any one? No." "Then come with me." He took the young man by the arm and retraced his steps. A little crowd had assembled by now. Rosalie, Jacqueline and Cornelia had rushed out of their cabins. More people were coming along the deck from the saloon-Ferguson, Jim Fanthorp and Mrs. Allerton.

Race stood by the revolver. Poirot turned his head and said sharply to Tim Allerton.

"Got any gloves in your pocket?" Tim fumbled.

"Yes, I have." Poirot seized them from him, put them on, and bent to examine the revolver.

Race did the same. The others watched breathlessly.

Race said: "He didn't go the other way. Fanthorp and Ferguson were sitting on this deck lounge, they'd have seen him." Poirot responded: "And Mr. Allerton would have met him if he'd gone aft." Race said-pointing to the revolver: "Rather fancy we've seen this not so very long ago. Must make sure, though." He knocked on the door of Pennington's cabin. There was no answer. The cabin was empty. Race strode to the right-hand drawer of the chest and jerked it open. The revolver was gone.

"Settles that," said Race. "Now then, where's Pennington himself?." They went out again on deck. Mrs. Allerton had joined the group. Poirot moved swiftly over to her.

"Madame, take Miss Otterbourne with you and look after her. Her mother has been" he consulted Race with an eye and Race nodded-"killed." Dr. Bessner came bustling along. "Gott im Himmel! What is there now?" They made way for him, Race indicated the cabin. Bessner went inside. "Find Pennington," said Race. "Any fingerprints on that revolver?" "None." said Poirot.

They found Pennington on the deck below. He was sitting in the little drawing-room writing letters. He lifted a handsome clean-shaven face.

"Anything new?" he asked.

"Didn't you hear a shot?" "Why-now you mention it I believe I did hear a kind of a bang. But I never dreamed-who's been shot?" "Mrs. Otterbourne." "Mrs. Otterbourne?' Pennington sounded quite astounded. "Well, you do surprise me. Mrs. Otterbourne." He shook his head. "I can't see that at all." He lowered his voice. "Strikes me, gentlemen, we've got a homicidal maniac aboard.

We ought to organise a defence system." "Mr. Pennington," said Race. "How long have you been in this room?" "Why, let me see," Mr. Pennington gently rubbed his chin. "I should say a matter of twenty minutes or so." "And you haven't left it?" "Why, no-certainly not." He looked inquiringly at the two men.

"You see, Mr. Pennington," said Race. "Mrs. Otterbourne was shot with your revolver."

Chapter 24

Mr. Pennington was shocked. Mr. Pennington could hardly believe it.

"Why, gentlemen," he said, "this is a very serious matter. Very serious indeed."

"Extremely serious for you, Mr. Pennington."

"For me?" Pennington's eyebrows rose in startled surprise. "But, my dear sir,

I was sitting quietly writing in here when that shot was fired." "You have, perhaps, a witness to prove that?" Pennington shook his head.

"Why, no-I wouldn't say that. But it's clearly impossible that I should have gone to the deck above, shot this poor woman (and why should I shoot her anyWay?) and come down again with no one seeing me. There are always plenty of people on the deck lounge this time of day."

"How do you account for your pistol being used?"

"Well-I'm afraid I may be to blame there. Quite soon after getting aboard there was a conversation in the saloon one evening, I remember, about firearms, and I mentioned then that I always carried a revolver with me when I travel." "Who was there?"

"Well, I can't remember exactly. Most people, I think. Quite a crowd, anyWay."

He shook his head gently.

"Why, yes," he said. "I am certainly to blame there." He went on:

"First Linnet, then Linnet's maid and now Mrs. Otterbourne. There seems no reason in it all!"

"There was reason," said Race.

"There was?"

"Yes. Mrs. Otterbourne was on the point of telling us that she had seen a certain person go into Louise's cabin. Before she could name that person she was shot dead."

Andrew Pennington passed a fine silk handkerchief over his brow.

"All this is terrible," he murmured.

Poirot said:

"M. Pennington, I would like to discuss certain aspects of the case with you.

Will you come to my cabin in half an hour's time?"

"I should be delighted."

Pennington did not sound delighted. He did not look delighted either. Race and Poirot exchanged glances and then abruptly left the room.

"Cunning old devil," said Race. "But he's afraid. Eh?" Poirot nodded: