Appointment With Death (Hercule Poirot 19)

Lennox went slowly out. On the pad beside him Poirot wrote L.B. 4.35 p.m.

Chapter 7

Poirot looked with interest at the tall, dignified young woman who entered the room. He rose and bowed to her politely. ‘Mrs Lennox Boynton? Hercule Poirot, at your service.’

Nadine Boynton sat down. Her thoughtful eyes were on Poirot’s face.

‘I hope you do not mind, madame, my intruding on your sorrow in this way?’

Her eyes did not waver. She did not reply at once. Her eyes remained steady and grave. At last she gave a sigh and said: ‘I think it is best for me to be quite frank with you, M. Poirot.’

‘I agree with you, madame.’

‘You apologized for intruding upon my sorrow. That sorrow, M. Poirot, does not exist and it is idle to pretend that it does. I had no love for my mother-in-law and I cannot honestly say that I regret her death.’

‘Thank you, madame, for your plain speaking.’

Nadine went on: ‘Still, although I cannot pretend sorrow, I can admit to another feeling—remorse.’

‘Remorse?’ Poirot’s eyebrows went up.

‘Yes. Because, you see, it was I who brought about her death. For that I blame myself bitterly.’

‘What is this you are saying, madame?’

‘I am saying that I was the cause of my mother-in-law’s death. I was acting, as I thought, honestly—but the result was unfortunate. To all intents and purposes, I killed her.’

Poirot leaned back in his chair. ‘Will you be so kind as to elucidate this statement, madame?’

Nadine bent her head.

‘Yes, that is what I wish to do. My first reaction, naturally, was to keep my private affairs to myself, but I see that the time has come when it would be better to speak out. I have no doubt, M. Poirot, that you have often received confidences of a somewhat intimate nature?’

‘That, yes.’

‘Then I will tell you quite simply what occurred. My married life, M. Poirot, has not been particularly happy. My husband is not entirely to blame for that—his mother’s influence over him has been unfortunate—but I have been feeling for some time that my life was becoming intolerable.’

She paused and then went on:

‘On the afternoon of my mother-in-law’s death I came to a decision. I have a friend—a very good friend. He has suggested more than once that I should throw in my lot with him. On that afternoon I accepted his proposal.’

‘You decided to leave your husband?’

‘Yes.’

‘Continue, madame.’

Nadine said in a lower voice:

‘Having once made my decision, I wanted to—to establish it as soon as possible. I walked home to the camp by myself. My mother-in-law was sitting alone, there was no one about, and I decided to break the news to her there and then. I got a chair—sat down by her and told her abruptly what I had decided.’

‘She was surprised?’

‘Yes, I am afraid it was a great shock to her. She was both surprised and angry—very angry. She—she worked herself into quite a state about it! Presently I refused to discuss the matter any longer. I got up and walked away.’ Her voice dropped. ‘I—I never saw her again alive.’

Poirot nodded his head slowly. He said: ‘I see.’

Then he said: ‘You think her death was the result of the shock?’