Appointment with Death Page #8

I thought maybe Carol had...

Of course, it was incredible...

but the shock of finding

her dead like that...

Thank you, Mr. Boynton,

you may resume your seat.

Time is pressing on, Monsieur Poirot, and

I can't see that this is leading anywhere.

Can you, Colonel Carbury?

Better let Monsieur Poirot proceed

in his own manner, dear lady.

He usually gets there in the end.

Usually? Always.

Who then was responsible for the killing?

Dr. King?

Was she eager to free Raymond Boynton

from his stepmother's clutches?

No, because when Dr. King left

the encampment...

Mrs. Boynton was still alive.

When Dr. King returned,

Mrs. Boynton was dead.

This has been proved

by an independent medical report.

And what of the youngest of our suspects?

Oh, really, Monsieur Poirot.

That's not fair.

I will not have Ginny

be accused of such a thing.

Then what about you?

It was you

who acted as a nurse to your mother-in-law.

You were the last member of the family

to speak to her...

which gave you unique opportunity

of plunging the hypodermic into her wrist.

Also, you had a motive.

What motive, for God's sake?

Her love for you, sir.

Yes, she behaved well towards

her mother-in-law simply because of you...

until she found out

that your spirit was broken.

She tried to rouse you, to convince you

to break free, but she could not.

And so, she determined

on one last desperate gesture...

using the old trick of jealousy.

Oh, she was prepared to go further

than mere flirtation.

She threatened to actually leave you.

And if that failed,

there was only one alternative...

to eliminate

her mother-in-law's influence over you...

by eliminating her mother-in-law.

I killed her.

Why?

How can you ask?

I am asking you, sir.

Because of what she had done to us,

to our marriage.

Your wife only told you of her decision

to leave you...

when she joined you down at the

excavations after Mrs. Boynton was dead.

What does it matter? I knew anyway.

But it matters a great deal, sir.

Look, I strongly advise you

to tell the truth.

By God, I will.

When we left the tents,

I knew it was all up unless I acted fast.

It dawned on me that if I made one decent

gesture, I could still save everything.

What gesture, Mr. Boynton?

Same as Raymond's, I guess.

I've had enough.

To tell Mother I was getting the hell out.

I'm going down.

My idea was to take Nadine away

that very night if she'd come with me.

And when you reached the tents?

Wake up, Mother. Nadine and I have-

I started to talk to her

till I realized she was dead.

I didn't know what to do.

You corrected the time on her watch?

It was lying there in her lap.

I just acted mechanically. It was horrible.

Then I walked down to the excavations.

That is the truth, I swear.

I believe you, Mr. Boynton.

Your explanation is consistent

not only with the facts...

but also with your psychological condition.

This is all very interesting,

indeed touching...

but I'm expected for cocktails

by Lord Peel in an hour and a half.

You may continue with your exhibition,

Monsieur Poirot. I am going.

Of course, Lady Westholme. Of course. Better

not be late for the loyal toast, what?

Look, why don't we all go?

Everyone welcome.

Celebrate George mark VI...

though I suppose I ought to say sorry

about your Mrs. Simpson.

I'm very disappointed.

I would have expected an American woman

to navigate skillfully onto the throne.

Colonel Carbury, were you asking us all

to the coronation ball tonight?

I was, Miss Boynton.

Thank you.

Sarah.

I don't imagine

there'll be much in the way of boogying.

Come on.

Do you know who did it?

I have until midnight, Colonel.

You didn't even mention that business

this morning with the Arab boy.

Well, that will come later.

It only confirms what I know already.

Yes?

The information you wanted

from America, sir.

Has Colonel Carbury seen this?

Seen what, old chap?

I say, Poirot,

what are you doing with that fellow?

I thought you were supposed to be

working for me.

Help me with my tie, would you please?

After all it's your coronation.

It worked out well.

The Colonels the best dancer I've ever met.

Not that you've met a lot, kid.

He's better than you, Ray.

Oh, surely no one's better than Ray.

The Colonel certainly is.

- That's very sweet of you, my dear.

- That was fun.

Monsieur Poirot should not dance. Too fat.

Bad for the heart.

I'd kind of like to know who did it,

Monsieur Poirot.

Oh, does it matter?

I think it does. Will you tell us?

What makes you so sure it wasn't one of us?

Well, I want you to consider two facts.

First of all,

Mrs. Boynton was taking digitalis...

and secondly,

Dr. King here was missing a syringe.

Now, quite clearly no member of the family

need have taken the risk of injecting it.

All they had to do was to increase the level

of the digitalis to a fatal dose.

At worst this could be attributed

to a mistake by the chemist who mixed it.

If a syringe was used,

it was for a very good reason.

It was that the murderer was not

sufficiently intimate with Mrs. Boynton...

just to enter the tent and to tamper

with the medicine.

Of all the suspects so far...

the most obvious one is Mr. Cope.

You, sir, were guilty of chicanery.

I admit

that she forced me to burn the real will.

Thank God that little injustice

was prolonged only for a few weeks.

We forgive you, Jefferson.

But he tried to cheat us.

Well, goodness,

we were plotting to murder her.

Go on, man.

Mrs. Boynton took a particular pleasure

in preventing her family...

from associating with other people.

And yet on the fatal afternoon...

she actually insisted that they left

and that they enjoy themselves elsewhere.

Why?

Well, you see,

Mrs. Boynton had to get rid of the family...

because, to use a vulgarity...

she had other fish for frying.

What was it you said to her

in Jerusalem, Dr. King?

I called her pathetic and ludicrous.

There you have it. There was Mrs. Boynton

confronted by herself...

owing to the words

of an intelligent young woman.

She was full of baffled fury.

And then, suddenly,

while she was in this mood...

there was a face from the past,

somebody she recognized...

another victim to fall into her grasp.

Consider her words to Dr. King.

I never forget anything...

not an action...

not a name...

not a face.

Those words were spoken not to Dr. King...

but to someone else

who was standing behind her.

Let us reconstruct

what occurred on that fateful afternoon.

The family went off on its jaunt.

Lady Westholme tells us...

that one of the Arab servants

picked a quarrel with Mrs. Boynton.

You mean that one of those Arab fellows

stuck her with a hypodermic?

Both Miss Quinton

and Lady Westholme say...

they saw the Arab boy emerge

from the tent occupied by Ginny...

but Dr. King's tent was next door.

It might quite easily have been

that tent to which they were referring.

Lady Westholme said...

In addition, he was wearing a pair

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