Appointment with Death Page #7

She's wrong.

Don't you think it is possible

that you took Dr. King's syringe...

and injected

Mrs. Boynton as you had planned?

After all, this would leave you free

to marry Dr. King...

a rich man.

Is that what you suspect?

Was your plan any different?

Oh, yes. That's why I don't understand.

All right. All right. What was your plan?

I don't think I'm going to say any more.

Not even to me?

No.

Right.

- Well, good-bye.

- Good-bye.

Monsieur Poirot.

Monsieur Poirot, come here.

I must see you.

Well then, come forward, sir or madam...

and let me see you.

Tomorrow at 10:
00.

The back door of the hotel at 10:00.

Thank you, sir.

Oh, good evening, Miss Quinton.

Oh, good evening, Mr. Poirot.

Are your investigations nearly over?

Well, I must say that... Oh, that must be

the largest spider I've ever seen.

Look, it's going back to its hole...

and a brown one at that.

Did you see the spider, Miss Quinton?

Oh, yes. Spiders do not frighten me.

I see so many in the course

of my scrapping and digging. Oh. Bye-bye.

We really shouldn't talk to him, my dear.

My dear fellow, I'm sorry

if we're a little late.

Mr. Rogers here

has been writing up the notes...

of the talks we had with the Arab boys

at Qumran.

Had any of them seen anything?

They saw everything and nothing.

We will discuss these notes later,

mon colonel.

- A crme de cassis, s'il vous plat.

- Whisky and soda.

Certainly, sir.

You're on duty now, Rogers.

You'd better get back to the office.

One moment, Rogers, please.

Would you be kind enough to ask

our American friends if they have... Hello.

They have any knowledge of that person?

Leave it to me, sir. My connections are

tiptop. I was in North America.

- Thank you, Rogers. That'll do. Good night.

- Good night, sir.

Colonel Carbury, may I raise my glass

to criminology, the easiest of all sciences.

- Hello, Mr. Poirot.

- Oh, my dear. How are you?

- Come on.

- Why can't I talk to him?

One Arab, Mahmoud's assistant,

I believe he knew something.

Yes, he's asked to see me in the morning.

He has? Do you know who did it?

I'm fairly certain, but I want one final

meeting between them all tomorrow.

And we must find a really dramatic location

for this encounter.

I don't want it to be too late.

It's the coronation dance, you know.

I'll need time to change.

Good evening.

You used to be so popular.

This is an outrage.

He commands me to take tea.

At the springs of Sataf.

You mean it's a picnic?

You may be a Colonel, Mr. Carbury...

but I am a fully accredited member...

of His Majesty's government.

You trifle with me at your peril...

with these silly charades.

Murder is not a charade, Your Ladyship.

If you prefer, I can have Monsieur Poirot

conduct his interview here.

One more day I will put up with this.

After the coronation ball tonight, I go.

Dr. King.

See you at the market.

I want to apologize for last night.

It was silly ignoring you.

We're all on edge.

You are a formidable inquisitor, you know.

It will all be over today.

At your theatrical tea party?

Couldn't you drop it, Hercule?

So many of us stand a chance

of happiness now.

I...

Isn't that Hassan from the camp at Qumran?

Yes, indeed.

We have an important meeting arranged.

Hassan, I'm glad you've come. I was-

Hassan, don't go. I'll fetch him back.

Monsieur Poirot,

I'm going to the market now.

Hassan! Come back!

Sorry.

Single round. Fire!

You better come with us, miss.

She said she was chasing the boy,

and he ran into this street.

The shot came from the side.

A gun was thrown in to lie beside the boy.

She ran up to him, picked it up.

Do you really believe all that?

Dr. King was wearing a thin cotton dress.

She had no handbag.

There was nowhere to hide

even a small revolver like this one.

Our chaps dusted it for fingerprints.

Only Dr. King's were on it.

Well, the Boynton family...

Lady Westholme, Miss Quinton, Mr. Cope,

all in the area...

and all the family vouching for each other

as you'd expect.

What do we do?

Release Dr. King.

You are free to go.

I didn't kill him.

It is now 2:
30. There is just time to have

you driven back to your hotel and then-

Surely you're not still performing

your picnic interview?

Oh, yes.

We are foregathering in Sataf as arranged...

for afternoon tea.

Colonel Carbury and I

have gone to a great deal of trouble...

to arrange this spree...

and I am sure

you will find it informative, refreshing...

and even entertaining.

It's like a scene from a play.

Yes, well, if you wish to present a comedy,

you must first set the scene.

And the same is true

even if it turns out to be a tragedy.

Ladies and gentlemen.

A complete waste

of British military resources.

Colonel Carbury has done me

the honor of consulting me.

Why? Why the devil should he bring you

into this business?

I am often brought in

in cases of sudden death.

Mrs. Boynton's death gave her family

not only financial independence...

but also a liberation from a tyranny...

which had become well-nigh insupportable.

Raymond Boynton had been overheard...

discussing the possibility

of taking Mrs. Boynton's life.

He had fallen in love.

You told me you returned to the camp

at 5:
30 and spoke to your stepmother.

And yet Dr. King informs me

that at that time she was no longer alive.

Now I put it to you that you returned

to the camp...

you saw your stepmother,

and you discovered that she was dead.

Did you tell anybody about this?

No, you did not.

You pretended to talk to her,

and then you walked away.

Now, why on earth should you do that?

You, who could not possibly have been

guilty of her murder...

because Mrs. Boynton was dead

sometime before you returned to the camp.

Your mind went back to that conversation

you had had aboard ship...

with your sister, Carol.

Had she perhaps carried out your plan,

done the deed?

Were you in some way trying to protect her?

That's a damned lie!

Let us consider

the case against Carol Boynton.

Admitting that the murder was committed

by a lethal injection...

we already know that Dr. King's syringe

had been tampered with...

but there was another syringe.

That found by Miss Quinton

and claimed by whom?

By none other than Carol Boynton.

What have you to say to that, mademoiselle?

It wasn't mine.

But you claimed it, did you not?

All right. All right, I believe you.

You claimed the hypodermic

because that was the instrument...

which you and your coconspirator,

your brother Raymond, had selected.

You were afraid

that he had killed your stepmother.

You, in your turn, were protecting him.

All right, Monsieur Poirot, you win.

How did you conceive your plan, sir?

I read it...

in a detective story.

Sticking an empty hypodermic into someone

injects an air bubble which kills them.

So you just purchased the syringe yourself?

No, I took the one Nadine had.

The thing was, I dropped it

before I could use it.

And then, when I found Mother dead...

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