Death on the Nile (Hercule Poirot 17)

Simon looked at him with admiration.

“That’s clever of you. Do you know, I hadn’t thought of that. Jackie’s as poor as they make them.”

“And yet she has managed to follow you so far?”

Simon said doubtfully:

“She’s got a small income, of course. Something under two hundred a year, I imagine. I suppose—yes, I suppose she must have sold out the capital to do what she’s doing.”

“So that the time will come when she has exhausted her resources and is quite penniless?”

“Yes….”

Simon wriggled uneasily. The thought seemed to make him uncomfortable. Poirot watched him attentively.

“No,” he remarked. “No, it is not a pretty thought….”

Simon said rather angrily, “Well, I can’t help it!” Then he added, “What do you think of my plan?”

“I think it may work, yes. But it is, of course, a retreat.”

Simon flushed.

“You mean, we’re running away? Yes, that’s true…But Linnet—”

Poirot watched him, then gave a short nod.

“As you say, it may be the best way. But remember, Mademoiselle de Bellefort has brains.”

Simon said sombrely: “Some day, I feel, we’ve got to make a stand and fight it out. Her attitude isn’t reasonable.”

“Reasonable, mon Dieu!” cried Poirot.

“There’s no reason why women shouldn’t behave like rational beings,” Simon asserted stolidly.

Poirot said dryly: “Quite frequently they do. That is even more upsetting!” He added, “I, too, shall be on the Karnak. It is part of my itinerary.

“Oh!” Simon hesitated, then said, choosing his words with some embarrassment: “That isn’t—isn’t—er—on our account in any way? I mean I wouldn’t like to think—”

Poirot disabused him quickly:

“Not at all. It was all arranged before I left London. I always make my plans well in advance.”

“You don’t just move on from place to place as the fancy takes you? Isn’t the latter really pleasanter?”

“Perhaps. But to succeed in life every detail should be arranged well beforehand.”

Simon laughed and said: “That is how the more skilful murderer behaves, I suppose.”

“Yes—though I must admit that the most brilliant crime I remember and one of the most difficult to solve was committed on the spur of the moment.”

Simon said boyishly: “You must tell us something about your cases on board the Karnak.”

“No, no; that would be to talk—what do you call it?—the shop.”

“Yes, but your kind of shop is rather thrilling. Mrs. Allerton thinks so. She’s longing to get a chance to cross-question you.”

“Mrs. Allerton? That is the charming grey-haired woman who has such a devoted son?”