Agatha Christie – Death On The Nile

“Ah! you have had previous experience, perhaps? You have been in a house where there was a robbery?” “Never,” said Tim.

“Oh, yes, darling, you were at the Portarlingtons that time–when that awful woman’s diamonds were stolen.” “You always get things hopelessly wrong, Mother. I was there when it was discovered that the diamonds she was wearing round her fat neck were only paste!

The actual substitution was probably done months earlier–as a matter of fact a lot of people said she’d had it done herselff’ “Joanna said so, I expect.” “Joanna wasn’t there.” “But she knew them quite well. And it’s very like her to make that kind of suggestion.” “You’re always down on Joanna, Mother.” Poirot hastily changed the subject. He had it in mind to make a really big purchase at one of the Assuan shops. Some very attractive purple and gold material at one of the Indian merchants. There would, of course, be the duty to pay, but– “They tell me that they can how do you say—expedite it for me? And that the charges will not be too high. How think you, will it arrive all right?” Mrs. Allerton said that many people, so she had heard, had had things sent straight to England from the shops in question and that everything had arrived safely.

“Bien. Then I will do that. But the trouble one has, when one is abroad, if a parcel comes out from England! Have you had experience of that? Have you had any parcels arrive since you have been on your travels?” “I don’t think we have, have we, Tim? You get books sometimes but of course there is never any trouble about them.” “Ah, no, books are different.” Dessert had been served. Now, without any previous warning, Colonel Race stood up and made his speech.

He touched on the circumstances of the crime and announced the theft of the pearls. A search of the boat was about to be instituted, and he would be obliged if all the passengers would remain in the saloon until this was completed. Then, after all, if the passengers agreed, as he was sure they would, they themselves would be kind enough to submit to a search.

Poirot slipped nimbly along to his side. There was a little buzz and hum all round them. Voices doubtful, indignant, excited .

Poirot reached Race’s side and murmured something in his ear just as the latter was about to leave the dining-saloon.

Race listened, nodded assent, and beckoned a steward.

He said a few brief words to him, then, together with Poirot he passed out on to the deck, closing the door behind him.

They stood for a minute or two by the rail. Race lit a cigarette.

“Not a bad idea of yours,” he said. “We’ll soon see if there’s anything in it. I’ll give ’em three minutes.” The door of the dining-saloon opened and the same steward to whom they had spoken came out. He saluted Race and said: “Quite right, sir. There’s a lady who says it’s urgent she should speak to you at once without any delay.” “Ah!” Race’s face showed his satisfaction. “Who is it?”

“Miss Bowers, sir, the hospital nurse lady.” A slight shade of surprise showed on Race’s face. He said: “Bring her to the smoking-room. Don’t let any one else leave.” “No, sir–the other steward will attend to that.” He went back into the dining-room. Poirot and Race went to the smoking-room.

“Bowers, eh?” murmured Race.

They had hardly got inside the smoking-room before the steward reappeared with Miss Bowers. He ushered her in and left, shutting the door behind him.

“Well, Miss Bowers?” Colonel Race looked at her inquiringly. “What’s all this?” Miss Bowers looked her usual composed unhurried self. She displayed no particular emotion.

“You’ll excuse me, Colonel Race,” she said. “But under the circumstances I thought the best thing to do would be to speak to you at once”–she opened her neat black handbag. “–and to return you these.’ She took out a string of pearls and laid them on the table.

CHAPTER 20

If Miss Bowers had been the kind of woman who enjoyed creating a sensation, she would have been richly repaid by the result of her action.

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