He would have loved me and me only if Linnet hadn’t come along and snatched him up in her golden chariot. And I know–I know perfectly–that he wouldn’t have ever fallen in love with her if she hadn’t made him.” “That is what you think–yes.” “I know it. He loved me he will always love me.” Poirot said:
“Even now–?” A quick answer seemed to rise to her lips, then be stifled. She looked at Poirot and a deep burning colour spread over her face. She looked away, her head dropped down. She said in a low stifled voice: “Yes, I know. He hates me now. Yes, hates me He’d better be careful.” With a quick gesture she fumbled in a little silk bag that lay on the seat. Then she held out her hand. On the palm of it was a small pearl-handled pistol a dainty toy it looked.
“Nice little thing, isn’t it?” she said. “Looks too foolish to be real, but it is real! One of those bullets would kill a man or a woman. And I’m a good shot.” She smiled a faraway reminiscent smile. “When I went home as a child with my mother to South Carolina, my grandfather taught me to shoot. He was the old-fashioned kind that believes in shooting–espeically where honour is concerned. My father, too, he fought several duels as a young man. He was a good swordsman. He killed a man once. That was over a woman. So you see, M. Poirot–” she met his eyes squarely, “I’ve hot blood in me! I bought this when it first happened. I meant to kill one or other of them–the trouble was I couldn’t decide which. Both of them would have been unsatisfactory. If I’d thought Linnet would have looked afraid–but she’s got plenty of physical courage. She can stand up to physical action. And then I thought I’d wait! That appealed to me more and more. After all I could do it any time–it would be more fun to wait and–think about it! And then this idea came to my mind–to follow them! Whenever they arrived at some faraway spot and were together and happy–they should seeme! And it worked! It got Linnet badly–in a way nothing else could have done! It got right under her skin …. That was when I began to enjoy myself…. And there’s nothing she can do about it! I’m always perfectly pleasant and polite! There’s not a word they can take hold off It’s poisoning everything-everything–for them.” Her laugh rang out-clear and silvery.
Poirot grasped her arm.
“Be quiet. Quiet, I tell you.”
Jacqueline looked at him.
“Well?” she said.
Her smile was definitely challenging.
“Mademoiselle, I beseech you, do not do what you are doing.” “Leave dear Linnet alone, you mean?” “It is deeper than that. Do not open your heart to evil.” Her lips fell apart, a look of bewilderment came into her eyes.
Poirot went on gravely: “Becauseffyou do–evil will come …. Yes, very surely evil will come .
It will enter in and make its home within you and after a while it will no longer be possible to drive it out.” Jacqueline stared at him. Her glance seemed to waver, to flicker uncertainly.
She said, “I–don’t know–”
Then she cried out defiantly:
“You can’t stop me.” “No,” said Hercule Poirot. “I cannot stop you.” His voice was sad.
“Even if I were to–kill her, you couldn’t stop me.”
“No–not if you were willing–to pay the price.”
Jacqueline de Bellefort laughed.
“Oh, I’m not afraid of death! What have I got to live for, after all? I suppose you believe it’s very wrong to kill a person who has injured you even if they’ve taken away everything you had in the world?”
Poirot said steadily: “Yes, Mademoiselle. I believe it is the unforgivable offenceto kill.”
Jacqueline laughed again.
“Then you ought to approve of my present scheme of revenge. Because you see, as long as it works, I shan’t use that pistol …. But I’m afraid–yes, afraid sometimes–it all goes red–I want to hurt her–to stick a knife into her, to put my dear little pistol close against her head and then–just press with my finger–Oh!” The exclamation startled him.