Appointment with Death by Agatha Christie Page B

yourself.’
    When the Colonel had dispatched an orderly on this quest, Poirot said:
    â€˜Of what does this family consist?’
    â€˜Name’s Boynton. There are two sons, one of ’em married. His wife’s a nice-looking girl—the quiet, sensible kind. And there are two daughters. Both of ’emquite good-looking in totally different styles. Younger one a bit nervy—but that may be just shock.’
    â€˜Boynton,’ said Poirot. His eyebrows rose. ‘That is curious—very curious.’
    Carbury cocked an inquiring eye at him. But as Poirot said nothing more, he himself went on:
    â€˜Seems pretty obvious Mother was a pest! Had to be waited on hand and foot and kept the whole lot of them dancing attendance. And she held the purse strings. None of them had a penny of their own.’
    â€˜Aha! All very interesting. Is it known how she left her money?’
    â€˜I did just slip that question in—casual like, you know. It gets divided equally between the lot of them.’
    Poirot nodded his head. Then he asked:
    â€˜You are of the opinion that they are all in it?’
    â€˜Don’t know. That’s where the difficulty’s going to lie. Whether it was a concerted effort, or whether it was one bright member’s idea—I don’t know. Maybe the whole thing’s a mare’s nest! What it comes to is this: I’d like to have your professional opinion. Ah, here comes Gerard.’

Chapter 2
    The Frenchman came in with a quick yet unhurried tread. As he shook hands with Colonel Carbury he shot a keen, interested glance at Poirot. Carbury said:
    â€˜This is M. Hercule Poirot. Staying with me. Been talking to him about this business down at Petra.’
    â€˜Ah, yes?’ Gerard’s quick eyes looked Poirot up and down. ‘You are interested?’
    Hercule Poirot threw up his hands.
    â€˜Alas! one is always incurably interested in one’s own subject.’
    â€˜True,’ said Gerard.
    â€˜Have a drink?’ said Carbury.
    He poured out a whisky and soda and placed it by Gerard’s elbow. He held up the decanter inquiringly, but Poirot shook his head. Colonel Carbury set it down again and drew his chair a little nearer.
    â€˜Well,’ he said, ‘where are we?’
    â€˜I gather,’ said Poirot to Gerard, ‘that Colonel Carbury is not satisfied.’
    Gerard made an expressive gesture.
    â€˜And that,’ he said, ‘is my fault! And I may be wrong. Remember that, Colonel Carbury, I may be entirely wrong.’
    Carbury gave a grunt.
    â€˜Give Poirot the facts,’ he said.
    Dr Gerard began by a brief recapitulation of the events preceding the journey to Petra. He gave a short sketch of the various members of the Boynton family and described the condition of emotional strain under which they were labouring.
    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.
    â€˜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.
    â€˜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 sometime, 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:
    â€˜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