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Poirot listened with interest.

Then Gerard proceeded to the actual events of their first day at Petra, describing how he had returned to the camp.

‘I was in for a bad bout of malaria—cerebral type,’ he explained. ‘For that I proposed to treat myself by an intravenous injection of quinine. That is the usual method.’

Poirot nodded his comprehension.

‘The fever was on me badly. I fairly staggered into my tent. I could not at first find my case of drugs, someone had moved it from where I had originally placed it. Then, when I had found that, I could not find my hypodermic syringe. I hunted for it for some time, then gave it up and took a large dose of quinine by the mouth and flung myself on my bed.’

Gerard paused, then went on:

‘Mrs Boynton’s death was not discovered until after sunset. Owing to the way in which she was sitting and the support the chair gave to her body, no change occurred in her position and it was not until one of the boys went to summon her to dinner at six-thirty that it was noticed that anything was wrong.’

He explained in full detail the position of the cave and its distance away from the big marquee.

‘Miss King, who

is a qualified doctor, examined the body. She did not disturb me, knowing that I had fever. There was, indeed, nothing that could be done. Mrs Boynton was dead—and had been dead for some little time.’

Poirot murmured: ‘How long exactly?’

Gerard said slowly:

‘I do not think that Miss King gave much attention to that point. She did not, I presume, think it of any importance.’

‘One can say, at least, when she was last definitely known to be alive?’ said Poirot.

Colonel Carbury cleared his throat and referred to an official-looking document.

‘Mrs Boynton was spoken to by Lady Westholme and Miss Pierce shortly after 4 p.m. Lennox Boynton spoke to his mother about four-thirty. Mrs Lennox Boynton had a long conversation with her about five minutes later. Carol Boynton had a word with her mother at a time she is unable to state precisely—but which from the evidence of others would seem to have been about ten minutes past five.

‘Jefferson Cope, an American friend of the family, returning to the camp with Lady Westholme and Miss Pierce, saw her asleep. He did not speak to her. That was about twenty to six. Raymond Boynton, the younger son, seems to have been the last person to see her alive. On his return from a walk he went and spoke to her at about ten minutes to six. The discovery of the body was made at six-thirty when a servant went to tell her dinner was ready.’

‘Between the time that Mr Raymond Boynton spoke to her and half-past six did no one go near her?’ asked Poirot.

‘I understand not.’

‘But someone might have done so?’ Poirot persisted.

‘I don’t think so. From close on six onwards servants were moving about the camp, people were going to and from their tents. No one can be found who saw anyone approaching the old lady.’

‘Then Raymond Boynton was definitely the last person to see his mother alive?’ said Poirot.

Dr Gerard and Colonel Carbury interchanged a quick glance. Colonel Carbury drummed on the table with his fingers.

‘This is where we begin to get into deep waters,’ he said. ‘Go on, Gerard. This is your pigeon.’

‘As I mentioned just now, Sarah King, when she examined Mrs Boynton, saw no reason for determining the exact time of death. She merely said that Mrs Boynton had been dead “some little time”, but when, on the following day for reasons of my own, I endeavoured to narrow things down and happened to mention that Mrs Boynton was last seen alive by her son Raymond at a little before six, Miss King, to my great surprise, said point-blank that that was impossible—that at that time Mrs Boynton must already have been dead.’

Poirot’s eyebrows rose. ‘Odd. Extremely odd. And what does M. Raymond Boynton say to that?’

Colonel Carbury said abruptly: ‘He swears that his mother was alive. He went up to her and said, “I’m back. Hope you have had a nice afternoon?” Something of that kind. He says she just grunted, “Quite all right,” and he went on to his tent.’

Poirot frowned perplexedly.

‘Curious,’ he said. ‘Extremely curious. Tell me, was it growing dusk by then?’

‘The sun was just setting.’


Tags: Agatha Christie Hercule Poirot Mystery