Eighteen

Andrew Pennington displayed all the conventional reactions of grief and shock. He was, as usual,carefully dressed. He had changed into a black tie. His long clean-shaven face bore a bewilderedexpression.

“Gentlemen,” he said sadly, “this business has got me right down! Little Linnet — why, Iremember her as the cutest little thing you can imagine. How proud of her Melhuish Ridgewayused to be, too! Well, there’s no point in going into that. Just tell me what I can do; that’s all Iask.”

Race said: “To begin with, Mr. Pennington, did you hear anything last night?”

“No, sir, I can’t say I did. I have the cabin right next to Dr. Bessner’s number forty—forty-one,and I heard a certain commotion¹ going on in there round about midnight or so. Of course I didn’tknow what it was at the time.”

“You heard nothing else? No shots?”

Andrew Pennington shook his head.

“Nothing whatever of that kind.”

“And you went to bed at what time?”

“Must have been some time after eleven.”

He leant forward.

“I don’t suppose it’s news to you to know that there’s plenty of rumours² going about the boat.

That half-French girl—Jacqueline de Bellefort—there was something fishy³ there, you know.

Linnet didn’t tell me anything, but naturally I wasn’t born blind and deaf. There’d been someaffair between her and Simon, some time, hadn’t there—Cherchez la femme—that’s a pretty goodsound rule, and I should say you wouldn’t have to cherchez far.”

“You mean that in your belief Jacqueline de Bellefort shot Madame Doyle?” Poirot asked.

“That’s what it looks like to me. Of course I don’t know anything….”

“Unfortunately we do know something!”

“Eh?” Mr. Pennington looked startled.

“We know that it is quite impossible for Mademoiselle de Bellefort to have shot MadameDoyle.”

He explained carefully the circumstances. Pennington seemed reluctant to accept them.

“I agree it looks all right on the face of it—but this hospital nurse woman, I’ll bet she didn’t stayawake all night. She dozed⁴ off and the girl slipped out and in again.”

“Hardly likely, Monsieur Pennington. She had administered a strong opiate, remember. Andanyway a nurse is in the habit of sleeping lightly and waking when her patient wakes.”

“It all sounds rather fishy to me,” declared Pennington.

Race said in a gently authoritative⁵ manner: “I think you must take it from me, Mr. Pennington,that we have examined all the possibilities very carefully. The result is quite definite—Jacquelinede Bellefort did not shoot Mrs. Doyle. So we are forced to look elsewhere. That is where we hopeyou may be able to help us.”

“I?” Pennington gave a nervous start.

“Yes. You were an intimate friend of the dead woman. You know the circumstances of her life,in all probability, much better than her husband does, since he only made her acquaintance a fewmonths ago. You would know, for instance, of anyone who had a grudge⁶ against her. You wouldknow, perhaps, whether there was anyone who had a motive⁷ for desiring her death.”

Andrew Pennington passed his tongue over rather dry-looking lips.

“I assure you, I have no idea…You see Linnet was brought up in England. I know very little ofher surroundings and associations.”

“And yet,” mused⁸ Poirot, “there was someone on board who was interested in Madame’sremoval. She had a near escape before, you remember, at this very place, when that bouldercrashed down—ah! but you were not there, perhaps?”

“No. I was inside the temple at the time. I heard about it afterwards, of course. A very nearescape. But possibly an accident, don’t you think?”

Poirot shrugged¹⁰ his shoulders.

“One thought so at the time. Now—one wonders.”

“Yes—yes, of course.” Pennington wiped his face with a fine silk handkerchief.

Colonel Race went on: “Mr. Doyle happened to mention someone being on board who bore agrudge—not against her personally, but against her family. Do you know who that could be?”

Pennington looked genuinely astonished.

“No, I’ve no idea.”

“She didn’t mention the matter to you?”

“No.”

“You were an intimate friend of her father’s—you cannot remember any business operations ofhis that might have resulted in ruin for some business opponent?”

Pennington shook his head helplessly. “No outstanding case. Such operations were frequent, ofcourse, but I can’t recall anyone who uttered threats—nothing of that kind.”

In short, Mr. Pennington, you cannot help us?”

“It seems so. I deplore¹¹ my inadequacy¹², gentlemen.”

Race interchanged a glance with Poirot, then he said: “I’m sorry too. We’d had hopes.”

He got up as a sign the interview was at an end.

Andrew Pennington said: “As Doyle’s laid up, I expect he’d like me to see to things. Pardonme, Colonel, but what exactly are the arrangements?”

“When we leave here we shall make a nonstop run to Shellal, arriving there tomorrowmorning.”

“And the body?”

“Will be removed to one of the cold storage chambers¹³.”

Andrew Pennington bowed his head. Then he left the room.

Poirot and Race again interchanged a glance.

“Mr. Pennington,” said Race, lighting¹⁴ a cigarette, “was not at all comfortable.”

Poirot nodded. “And,” he said, “Mr. Pennington was sufficiently¹⁵ perturbed¹⁶ to tell a rather stupidlie. He was not in the temple of Abu Simbel when that boulder⁹ fell. I—moi qui vous parle—canswear to that. I had just come from there.”

“A very stupid lie,” said Race, “and a very revealing one.”

Again Poirot nodded.

“But for the moment,” he said, and smiled, “we handle him with the gloves of kid, is it not so?”

“That was the idea,” agreed Race.

“My friend, you and I understand each other to a marvel¹⁷.”

There was a faint grinding noise, a stir beneath their feet. The Karnak had started on herhomeward journey to Shellal.

“The pearls,” said Race. “That is the next thing to be cleared up.”

“You have a plan?”

“Yes.” He glanced at his watch. “It will be lunchtime in half an hour. At the end of the meal Ipropose to make an announcement—just state the fact that the pearls have been stolen, and that Imust request everyone to stay in the dining saloon while a search is conducted.”

Poirot nodded approvingly.

“It is well imagined. Whoever took the pearls still has them. By giving no warning beforehand,there will be no chance of their being thrown overboard in a panic.”

Race drew some sheets of paper towards him. He murmured apologetically: “I’d like to make abrief précis of the facts as I go along. It keeps one’s mind free of confusion.”

“You do well. Method and order, they are everything,” replied Poirot.

Race wrote for some minutes in his small neat script. Finally he pushed the result of his labourstowards Poirot.

“Anything you don’t agree with there?” Poirot took up the sheets. They were headed:

MURDER OF MRS. LINNET DOYLE

Mrs. Doyle was last seen alive by her maid, Louise Bourget. Time: 11:30(approx.).

From 11:30–12:20 following have alibis¹⁸: Cornelia Robson, James Fanthorp,Simon Doyle, Jacqueline de Bellefort—nobody else—but crime almost certainlycommitted after that time, since it is practically certain that pistol used wasJacqueline de Bellefort’s, which was then in her handbag. That her pistol wasused is not absolutely certain until after postmortem and expert evidence re bullet—but it may be taken as overwhelmingly probable.

Probable course of events: X (murderer) was witness of scene betweenJacqueline and Simon Doyle in observation saloon and noted¹⁹ where pistol wentunder settee. After the saloon was vacant, X procured²⁰ pistol—his or her ideabeing that Jacqueline de Bellefort would be thought guilty of crime. On thistheory certain people are automatically cleared of suspicion:

Cornelia Robson, since she had no opportunity to take pistol before JamesFanthorp returned to search for it.

Miss Bowers²²—same.

Dr. Bessner—same.

N.B.—Fanthorp is not definitely excluded from suspicion, since he couldactually have pocketed pistol while declaring himself unable to find it.

Any other person could have taken the pistol during that ten minutes’ interval²³.

Possible motives²⁴ for the murder:

Andrew Pennington. This is on the assumption that he has been guilty offraudulent practices. There is a certain amount of evidence in favour of thatassumption, but not enough to justify²⁵ making out a case against him. If it was hewho rolled down the boulder, he is a man who can seize a chance when it presentsitself. The crime, clearly, was not premeditated except in a general way. Lastnight’s shooting scene was an ideal opportunity.

Objections to the theory of Pennington’s guilt²¹: Why did he throw the pistoloverboard, since it constituted a valuable clue against J.B.?

Fleetwood. Motive, revenge. Fleetwood considered himself injured by LinnetDoyle. Might have overheard scene and noted position of pistol. He may havetaken pistol because it was a handy weapon, rather than with the idea of throwingguilt on Jacqueline. This would fit in with throwing it overboard. But if that werethe case, why did he write J in blood on the wall?

N.B.—Cheap handkerchief found with pistol more likely to have belonged to aman like Fleetwood than to one of the well-to-do passengers.

Rosalie Otterbourne. Are we to accept Miss Van Schuyler’s evidence orRosalie’s denial? Something was thrown overboard at the time and thatsomething was presumably the pistol wrapped up in the velvet²⁶ stole.

Points to be noted. Had Rosalie any motive? She may have disliked LinnetDoyle and even been envious²⁷ of her—but as a motive for murder that seemsgrossly inadequate²⁸. The evidence against her can be convincing only if wediscover an adequate motive. As far as we know, there is no previous knowledgeor link between Rosalie Otterbourne and Linnet Doyle.

Miss Van Schuyler. The velvet stole in which pistol was wrapped belonged toMiss Van Schuyler. According to her own statement she last saw it in theobservation saloon. She drew attention to its loss during the evening, and a searchwas made for it without success.

How did the stole come into the possession of X? Did X purloin²⁹ it some timeearly in the evening? But if so, why? Nobody could tell, in advance, that therewas going to be a scene between Jacqueline and Simon. Did X find the stole inthe saloon when he went to get the pistol from under the settee? But if so, whywas it not found when the search for it was made? Did it never leave Miss VanSchuyler’s possession? That is to say: Did Miss Van Schuyler murder LinnetDoyle? Is her accusation³⁰ of Rosalie Otterbourne a deliberate lie? If she didmurder her, what was her motive?

Other possibilities:

Robbery as a motive. Possible, since the pearls have disappeared, and LinnetDoyle was certainly wearing them last night.

Someone with a grudge against the Ridgeway family. Possible—again noevidence.

We know that there is a dangerous man on board—a killer³¹. Here we have akiller and a death. May not the two be connected? But we should have to showthat Linnet Doyle possessed³² dangerous knowledge concerning this man.

Conclusions: We can group the persons on board into two classes—those whohad a possible motive or against whom there is definite evidence, and those who,as far as we know, are free of suspicion.

Group I: Andrew Pennington

Group II: Mrs. Allerton

Group I: Fleetwood

Group II: Tim Allerton

Group I: Rosalie Otterbourne

Group II: Cornelia Robson

Group I: Miss Van Schuyler

Group II: Miss Bowers

Group I: Louise Bourget (Robbery?)

Group II: Dr. Bessner

Group I: Ferguson (Political?)

Group II: Signor Richetti

Group II: Mrs. Otterbourne

Group II: James Fanthorp

Poirot pushed the paper back.

“It is very just, very exact, what you have written there.”

“You agree with it?”

“Yes.”

“And now what is your contribution?”

Poirot drew himself up in an important manner.

“Me, I pose myself one question: ‘Why was the pistol thrown overboard?’”

“That’s all?”

“At the moment, yes. Until I can arrive at a satisfactory answer to that question, there is notsense anywhere. That is—that must be the starting point. You will notice, my friend, that, in yoursummary of where we stand, you have not attempted to answer that point.”

Race shrugged his shoulders.

“Panic.”

Poirot shook his head perplexedly. He picked up the sodden³³ velvet wrap and smoothed it out,wet and limp, on the table. His fingers traced the scorched³⁴ marks and the burnt holes.

“Tell me, my friend,” he said suddenly. “You are more conversant³⁵ with firearms than I am.

Would such a thing as this, wrapped round a pistol, make much difference in muffling³⁶ the sound?”

“No, it wouldn’t. Not like a silencer, for instance.”

Poirot nodded. He went on: “A man—certainly a man who had had much handling of firearms—would know that. But a woman—a woman would not know.”

Race looked at him curiously³⁷. “Probably not.”

“No. She would have read the detective stories where they are not always very exact as todetails.”

Race flicked³⁸ the little pearl-handled pistol with his finger.

“This little fellow wouldn’t make much noise anyway,” he said. “Just a pop, that’s all. With anyother noise around, ten to one you wouldn’t notice it.”

“Yes, I have reflected as to that.”

Poirot picked up the handkerchief and examined it.

“A man’s handkerchief—but not a gentleman’s handkerchief. Ce cher Woolworth, I imagine.

Threepence at most.”

“The sort of handkerchief a man like Fleetwood would own.”

“Yes. Andrew Pennington, I notice, carries a very fine silk handkerchief.”

“Ferguson?” suggested Race.

“Possibly. As a gesture. But then it ought to be a bandana.”

“Used it instead of a glove, I suppose, to hold the pistol and obviate³⁹ fingerprints⁴⁰.” Race added,with slight facetiousness⁴¹, “‘The Clue of the Blushing Handkerchief.’”

“Ah, yes. Quite a jeune fille colour, is it not?” He laid it down and returned to the stole, oncemore examining the powder marks.

“All the same,” he murmured, “it is odd….”

“What’s that?”

Poirot said gently: “Cette pauvre Madame Doyle. Lying there so peacefully…with the little holein her head. You remember how she looked?”

Race looked at him curiously. “You know,” he said, “I’ve got an idea you’re trying to tell mesomething—but I haven’t the faintest idea what it is.”

 

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