‘First, I examined the possibility of Mrs Boynton having died a natural death—and I decided against it. The missing drug—the hypodermic syringe—and above all, the attitude of the dead lady’s family all convinced me that that supposition could not be entertained.
‘Not only was Mrs Boynton killed in cold blood—but every member of her family was aware of the fact! Collectively they reacted as guilty parties.
‘But there are degrees in guilt. I examined the evidence carefully with a view to ascertaining whether the murder—yes, it was murder—had been committed by the old lady’s family acting on a concerted plan.
‘There was, I may say, overwhelming motive. One and all stood to gain by her death—both in the financial sense—for they would at once attain financial independence and indeed enjoy very considerable wealth—and also in the sense of being freed from what had become an almost insupportable tyranny.
‘To continue: I decided, almost immediately, that the concerted theory would not hold water. The stories of the Boynton family did not dovetail neatly into each other, and no system of workable alibis had been arranged. The facts seemed more to suggest that one—or possibly two—members of the family had acted in collusion and that the others were accessories after the fact. I next considered which particular member or members—were indicated. Here, I may say, I was inclined to be biased by a certain piece of evidence known only to myself.’
Here Poirot recounted his experience in Jerusalem.
‘Naturally, that pointed very strongly to Mr Raymond Boynton as the prime mover in the affair. Studying the family, I came to the conclusion that the most likely recipient of his confidences that night would be his sister Carol. They strongly resembled each other in appearance and temperament, and so would have a keen bond of sympathy and they also possessed the nervous rebellious temperament necessary for the conception of such an act. That their motive was partly unselfish—to free the whole family and particularly their younger sister—only made the planning of the deed more plausible.’ Poirot paused a minute.
Raymond Boynton half opened his lips, then shut them again. His eyes looked steadily at Poirot with a kind of dumb agony in them.
‘Before I go into the case against Raymond Boynton, I would like to read to you a list of significant points which I drew up and submitted to Colonel Carbury this afternoon.
Significant points
Mrs Boynton was taking a mixture containing digitalin.
Dr Gerard missed a hypodermic syringe.
Mrs Boynton took definite pleasure in keeping her family from enjoying themselves with other people.
Mrs Boynton, on the afternoon in question, encouraged her family to go away and leave her.
Mrs Boynton is a mental sadist.
The distance from the marquee to the place where Mrs Boynton was sitting is (roughly) two hundred yards.
Mr Lennox Boynton said at first he did not know what time he returned to the camp, but later he admitted having set his mother’s wrist-watch to the right time.
Dr Gerard and Miss Genevra Boynton occupied tents next door to each other.
At half-past six, when dinner was ready, a servant was dispatched to announce the fact to Mrs Boynton.
Mrs Boynton, in Jerusalem, used these words: “I never forget. Remember that. I’ve never forgotten anything.”
‘Although I have numbered the points separately, occasionally they can be bracketed in pairs. That is the case, for instance, with the first two. Mrs Boynton taking a mixture containing digitalis. Dr Gerard had missed a hypodermic syringe. Those two points were the first thing that struck me about the case, and I may say to you that I found them most extraordinary—and quite irreconcilable. You do not see what I mean? No matter. I will return to the point presently. Let it suffice that I noticed those two points as something that had definitely got to be explained satisfactorily.
‘I will conclude now with my study of the possibility of Raymond Boynton’s guilt. The following are the facts. He had been heard to discuss the possibility of taking Mrs Boynton’s life. He was in a condition of great nervous excitement. He had—mademoiselle will forgive me’—he bowed apologetically to Sarah—‘just passed through a moment of great emotional crisis. That is, he had fallen in love. The exaltation of his feelings might lead him to act in one of several ways. He might feel mellowed and softened towards the world in general, including his stepmother—he might feel the courage at last to defy her and shake off her influence—or he might find just the additional spur to turn his crime from theory to practice. That is the psychology! Let us now examine the facts.
‘Raymond Boynton left the camp with the others about three-fifteen. Mrs Boynton was then alive and well. Before long Raymond and Sarah King had a tête-à-tête interview. Then he left her. According to him, he returned to the camp at ten minutes to six. He went up to his mother, exchanged a few words with her, then went to his tent and afterwards down to the marquee. He says that at ten minutes to six, Mrs Boynton was alive and well.
‘But we now come to a fact which directly contradicts that statement. At half-past six Mrs Boynton’s death was discovered by a servant. Miss King, who holds a medical degree, examined her body and she swears definitely that at that time, though she did not pay any special attention to the time when death had occurred, it had most certainly and decisively taken place at least an hour (and probably a good deal more) before six o’clock.
‘We have here, you see, two conflicting statements. Setting aside the possibility that Miss King may have made a mistake—’
Sarah interrupted him. ‘I don’t make mistakes. That is, if I had, I would admit to it.’
Her tone was hard and clear.
Poirot bowed to her politely.
‘Then there are only two possibilities—either Miss King or Mr Boynton is lying! Let us examine Raymond Boynton’s reasons for so doing. Let us assume that Miss King was not mistaken and not deliberately lying. What, then, was the sequence of events? Raymond Boynton returns to the camp, sees his mother sitting at the mouth of her cave, goes up to her and finds she is dead. What does he do? Does he call for help? Does he immediately inform the camp of what has happened? No, he waits a minute or two, then passes on to his tent and joins his family in the marquee and says nothing. Such conduct is exceedingly curious, is it not?’
Raymond said in a nervous, sharp voice: