Colonel Clapperton rapped a little nervously at the cabin door.
‘Adeline, my dear, are you up?’
The sleepy voice of Mrs Clapperton from within replied: ‘Oh, bother – what is it?’
‘It’s John. What about going ashore?’
‘Certainly not.’ The voice was shrill and decisive. ‘I’ve had a very bad night. I shall stay in bed most of the day.’
Pam nipped in quickly. ‘Oh, Mrs Clapperton, I’m so sorry. We did so want you to come with us. Are you sure you’re not up to it?’
‘I’m quite certain. Mrs Clapperton’s voice sounded even shriller.
The Colonel was turning the door-handle without result.
‘What is it, John? The door’s locked. I don’t want to be dis-turbed by the stewards.’
‘Sorry, my dear, sorry. Just wanted my Baedeker.’
‘Well, you can’t have it,’ snapped Mrs Clapperton. ‘I’m not going to get out of bed. Do go away, John, and let me have a little peace.’
‘Certainly, certainly, my dear.’ The Colonel backed away from the door. Pam and Kitty closed in on him.
‘Let’s start at once. Thank goodness your hat’s on your head.
Oh, gracious – your passport isn’t in the cabin, is it?’
‘As a matter of fact it’s in my pocket – ‘ began the Colonel.
Kitty squeezed his arm. ‘Glory be!’ she exclaimed. ‘Now, come on.’
Leaning over the rail, Poirot watched the three of them leave the ship. He heard a faint intake of breath beside him and turned to see Miss Henderson. Her eyes were fastened on the three retreating figures.
‘So they’ve gone ashore,’ she said flatly.
‘Yes. Are you going?’ She had a shade hat, he noticed, and a smart bag and shoes.
There was a shore-going appearance about her. Nevertheless, after the most infinitesimal of pauses, she shook her head.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I think I’ll stay on board. I have a lot of letters to write.’ She turned and left him.
Puffing after his morning tour of forty-eight rounds of the deck, General Forbes took her place. ‘Aha? he exclaimed as his eyes noted the retreating figures of the Colonel and the two girls. ‘So that’s the game! Where’s the Madam?’ Poirot explained that Mrs Clapperton was having a quiet day in bed.
‘Don’t you believe it!’ the old warrior closed one knowing eye.
‘She’ll be up for tiffin – and if the poor devil’s found to be absent without leave, there’ll be ructions.’ But the General’s prognostications were not fulfilled. Mrs Clapperton did not appear at lunch and by the time the Colonel and his attendant damsels returned to the ship at four o’clock, she had not shown herself.
Poirot was in his cabin and heard the husband’s slightly guilty knock on his cabin door. Heard the knock repeated, the cabin door tried, and finally heard the Colonel’s call to a steward.
‘Look here, I can’t get an answer. Have you a key?’ Poirot rose quickly from his bunk and came out into the passage.
The news went like wildfire round the ship. With horrified incredulity people heard that Mrs Clapperton had been found dead in her bunk – a native dagger driven through her heart. A string of amber beads was found on the floor of her cabin.
Rumour succeeded rumour. All bead sellers who had been allowed on board that day were being rounded up and questionedl A large sum in cash had disappeared from a drawer in the cabinl The notes had been tracedl They had not been tracedl Jewellery worth a fortune had been takenl No jewellery had been taken at alll A steward had been arrested and had confessed to the murderl
‘What is the truth of it all?’ demanded Miss Ellie Henderson waylaying Poirot. Her face was pale and troubled.
‘My dear lady, how should I know?’
‘Of course you know,’ said Miss Henderson.
It was late in the evening. Most people had retired to their cabins. Miss Henderson led Poirot to a couple of deck chairs on the sheltered side of the ship. ‘Now tell me,’ she commanded.
Poirot surveyed her thoughtfully. ‘It’s an interesting case,’ he said.
‘Is it true that she had some very valuabte jewellry stolen?’ Poirot shook his head. ‘No. No jewellery was taken. A small amount of loose cash that was in a drawer has disappeared, though.’