She was very pale and she stumbled a little as she walked.
“I didn’t do it,” she said. Her voice was that of a frightened child. “I didn’t do it. Oh, please believe me. Every one will think I did it–but I didn’tmI didn’t.
It’s–it’s awful. I wish it hadn’t happened. I might have killed Simon last night–I was mad, I think. But I didn’t do the other…’
She sat down and burst into tears.
Poirot patted her on the shoulder.
“There, there. We know that you did not kill Mrs. Doyle. It is proved–yes, proved, mon enfant. It was not you.”
Jackie sat up suddenly, her wet handkerchief clasped in her hand.
“But who did?”
“That,” said Poirot, “is just the question we are asking ourselves. You cannot help us there, my child?”
Jacqueline shook her head.
“I don’t know… I can’t imagine . . . no, I haven’t the faintest idea.” She frowned deeply.
“No,” she said at last. “I can’t think of any one who wanted her dead”–her voice faltered a little”except me.” Race said: “Excuse me a minute-just thought of something.” He hurried out of the room.
Jacqueline de Bellefort sat with her head downcast nervously twisting her fingers.
She broke out suddenly: “Death’s horrible–horrible. I–I hate the thought of it.” Poirot said: “Yes. It is not pleasant to think, is it, that now, at this very moment, some one is rejoicing at the successful carrying out of his or her plan.” “Don’t—don’t!” cried Jackie. “It sounds horrible, the way you put it.” Poirot shrugged his shoulders.
“It is true.”
Jackie said in a low voice:
“I–I wanted her dead–and she is dead And what is worse—she died– just like I said.” “Yes, Mademoiselle. She was shot through the head.” She cried out: “Then I was right, that night–at the Cataract Hotel. There was some one listening!”
“Ah!” Poirot nodded his head. “I wondered ffyou would remember that. Yes, it is altogether too much of a coincidencethat Madame Doyle should be killed in just the way you described.” Jackie shuddered.
“That man that night who can he have been?” Poirot was sfient fdr a minute or two, then he said in quite a different tone of voice: “You are sure it was a man, Mademoiselle?” Jackie looked at him in surprise.
“Yes, of course. At least–” “Well, Mademoiselle?” She frowned, half closing her eyes in an effort to remember. She said slowly: “I thought it was a man…” “But now you are not so sure?” Jackie said slowly: “No, I can’t be certain. I just assumed it was a man but it was really just a–a figure–a shadow .
” She paused and then, as Poirot did not speak, she asked: “You think it must have been a woman? But surely none of the women on this boat can have wanted to kill Linnet?” Poirot merely moved his head from side to side.
The door opened and Bessner appeared.
“Will you come and speak with Mr. Doyle, please, M. Poirot. He would like to see yon.” Jackie sprang up. She caught Bessner by the arm.
“How is he? Is he all right?” “Naturally he is not all right,” said Dr. Bessner reproachfully.
“The bone is fractured, you understand.” “But he’s not going to die?” cried }ackie.
“Ach, who said anything about dying? We will get him to civilisation and there we will have an X-ray and proper treatment.’ “Oh.” The girl’s hands came together in a convulsive pressure.
She sank down again on a chair.
Poirot stepped out on to the deck with the doctor and at that moment Race joined them. They went up to the promenade deck and along to Bessner’s cabin.
Simon Doyle was lying propped with cushions and pillows an improvised cage over his leg. His face was ghastly in colour, the ravages of pain with shock on top of it. But the predominant expression on his face was bewilderment–the sick bewilderment of a child.
He muttered: “Please come in. The doctor’s told me–told me–about Linnet I can’t believe it. I simply can’t believe it’s true.” “I know. It’s a bad knock,” said Race.
Simon stammered:
“You know–Jaekie didn’t do it. I’m certain Jackie didn’t do it! It looks black against her, I dare say, but she didn’t do it. She—she was a bit tight last night and all worked up and that’s why she went for me. But she wouldn’t–she wouldn’t do murder.., not cold-blooded murder “