Agatha Christie – Death On The Nile

But she’s so nice that she’s terribly ashamed of enjoying it. She thinks it’s awful of

Mrs. Allerton gave a look at Poirot and then added.

“But I mustn’t chatter. You want to ask me questions.” “If you please. You went to bed at what time, Madame?” “Just after half-past ten.” “And you went to sleep at once?” “Yes. I was sleepy.” “And did you hear anything–anything at alluring the night?” Mrs. Allerton wrinkled her brows.

“Yes, I think I heard a splash and some one running—or was it the other way about? I’m rather hazy. I just had a vague idea that some one had fallen overboard at sea–a dream, you know, and then I woke up and listened but it was all quite quiet.” “Do you know what time that was?” “No, I’m afraid I don’t. But I don’t think it was very long after I went to sleep.

I mean it was within the first hour or so.” “Alas, Madame, that is not very definite.” “No, I know it isn’t. But it’s no good my trying to guess, is it, when I haven’t really the vaguest idea?” “And that is all you can tell us, Madame?” “I’m afraid so.” “Had you ever actually met Mrs. Doyle before?” “No, Tim had met her. And I’d heard a good deal about her–through a cousin of ours, Joanna Southwood, but I’d never spoken to her till we met at Assuan.” “I have one other question, Madame, if you will pardon me for asking.” Mrs. Allerton murmured with a faint smile: “I should love to be asked an indiscreet question.” “It is this. Did you, or your family, ever suffer anq financial loss through the operations of Mrs. Doyle’s father, Melhuish Ridgeway!” Mrs. Allerton looked thoroughly astonished.

“Oh, no! The family finances have never suffered except by dwindling You know, everything paying less interest than it used to. There’s never been anything melodramatic about our poverty. My husband left very little money but what he left I still have, though it doesn’t yield as much as it used to yield.” “I thank you, Madame. Perhaps you will ask your son to come to us.” Tim said lightly when his mother came to him:

“Ordeal over? My turn now! What sort of things did they ask you?”

“Only whether I heard anything last night,” said Mrs. Allerton. “And unluckily I didn’t hear anything at all. I can’t think why not. After all, Linnet’s cabin is only one away from mine. I should think I’d have been bound to hear the shot. Go along, Tim, they’re waiting for you.”

To Tim Allerton Poirot repeated his previous question.

Tim answered:

“I went to bed early, half-past ten or so, I read for a bit. Put out my light just after eleven.”

“Did you hear anything after that?”

“Heard a man’s voice saying good-night, I think, not far away.”

“That was I saying good-night to Mrs. Doyle,” said Race.

“Yes. After that I went to sleep. Then, later, I heard a kind of hullabaloo going on, somebody calling Fanthorp, I remember.”

“Miss Robson when she ran out from the observation saloon.”

“Yes, I suppose that was it. And then a lot of different voices. And then somebody running along the deck. And then a splash. And then I heard old

Bessner booming out something about, ‘Careful now,’ and ‘Not too quick.'” “You heard a splash?”

“Well, something of that kind.”

“You are sure it was not a shot you heard?”

“Yes, I suppose it might have been I did hear a cork pop. Perhaps that was the shot. I may have imagined the splash from connecting the idea of the cork with liquid pouring into a glass… I know my foggy idea was that there was some kind of party on. And I wished they’d all go to bed and shut up.” “Anything more after that?” Tim thought.

“Only Fanthorp barging round in his cabin next door. I thought he’d never get to bed.” “And after that?” Tim shrugged his shoulders.

“After that blivion.” “You heard nothing more?” “Nothing whatever.” “Thank you, Mr.

Allerton.” Tim got up and left the cabin.

CHAPTER 15

Race pored thoughtfully over a plan of the promenade deck of the Karnak.

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