Appointment With Death (Hercule Poirot 19)

Raymond stared at him. He looked dumbfounded.

‘Sarah said that?’ he gasped.

Poirot nodded. ‘What have you to say now?’

‘But—it’s impossible!’

‘That is Miss King’s testimony. Now you come and tell me that your mother was alive and well only forty minutes before Miss King examined the body.’

Raymond said: ‘But she was!’

‘Be careful, Mr Boynton.’

‘Sarah must be mistaken! There must be some factor she didn’t take into account. Refraction off the rock—something. I can assure you, M. Poirot, that my mother was alive at just before six and that I spoke to her.’

Poirot’s face showed nothing.

Raymond leant forward earnestly.

‘M. Poirot, I know how it must seem to you, but look at the thing fairly. You are a biased person. You are bound to be by the nature of things. You live in an atmosphere of crime. Every sudden death must seem to you a possible crime! Can’t you realize that your sense of proportion is not to be relied upon? People die every day—especially people with weak hearts—and there is nothing in the least sinister about such deaths.’

Poirot sighed. ‘So you would teach me my business, is that it?’

‘No, of course not. But I do think that you are prejudiced—because of that unfortunate conversation. There is nothing really about my mother’s death to awaken suspicion except that unlucky hysterical conversation between Carol and myself.’

Poirot shook his head. ‘You are in error,’ he said. ‘There is something else. There is the poison taken from Dr Gerard’s medicine chest.’

‘Poison?’ Ray stared at him. ‘Poison?’ He pushed his chair back a little. He looked completely stupefied. ‘Is that what you suspect?’

Poirot gave him a minute or two. Then he said quietly, almost indifferently: ‘Your plan was different—eh?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Raymond answered mechanically. ‘That’s why—this changes everything…I—I can’t think clearly.’

‘What was your plan?’

‘Our plan? It was—’

Raymond stopped abruptly. His eyes became alert, suddenly watchful.

‘I don’t think,’ he said, ‘that I’ll say any more.’

‘As you please,’ said Poirot.

He watched the young man out of the room.

He drew his pad towards him and in small, neat characters made a final entry. R.B. 5.55?

Then, taking a large sheet of paper, he proceeded to write. His task completed, he sat back with his head

on one side contemplating the result. It ran as follows:

Boyntons and Jefferson Cope leave the camp 3.5 (approx.)

Dr Gerard and Sarah King leave the camp 3.15 (approx.)

Lady Westholme and Miss Pierce leave the camp 4.15

Dr Gerard returns to camp 4.20 (approx.)