Appointment with Death. Агата Кристи

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said Mrs Boynton. She began to wind up her ball of wool. ‘By the way, Raymond, who was that young woman who spoke to you just now?’

      Raymond started nervously. He flushed, then went white.

      ‘I—I don’t know her name. She—she was on the train the other night.’

      Mrs Boynton began slowly to try to heave herself out of her chair.

      ‘I don’t think we’ll have much to do with her,’ she said.

      Nadine rose and assisted the old woman to struggle out of her chair. She did it with a professional deftness that attracted Gerard’s attention.

      ‘Bedtime,’ said Mrs Boynton. ‘Good night, Mr Cope.’

      ‘Good night, Mrs Boynton. Good night, Mrs Lennox.’

      They went off—a little procession. It did not seem to occur to any of the younger members of the party to stay behind.

      Mr Cope was left looking after them. The expression on his face was an odd one.

      As Dr Gerard knew by experience, Americans are disposed to be a friendly race. They have not the uneasy suspicion of the travelling Briton. To a man of Dr Gerard’s tact making the acquaintance of Mr Cope presented few difficulties. The American was lonely and was, like most of his race, disposed to friendliness. Dr Gerard’s card-case was again to the fore.

      Reading the name on it, Mr Jefferson Cope was duly impressed.

      ‘Why, surely, Dr Gerard, you were over in the States not very long ago?’

      ‘Last autumn. I was lecturing at Harvard.’

      ‘Of course. Yours, Dr Gerard, is one of the most distinguished names in your profession. You’re pretty well at the head of your subject in Paris.’

      ‘My dear sir, you are far too kind! I protest.’

      ‘No, no, this is a great privilege—meeting you like this. As a matter of fact, there are several very distinguished people here in Jerusalem just at present. There’s yourself and there’s Lord Welldon, and Sir Gabriel Steinbaum, the financier. Then there’s the veteran English archaeologist, Sir Manders Stone. And there’s Lady Westholme, who’s very prominent in English politics. And there’s that famous Belgian detective Hercule Poirot.’

      ‘Little Hercule Poirot? Is he here?’

      ‘I read his name in the local paper as having lately arrived. Seems to me all the world and his wife are at the Solomon Hotel. A mighty fine hotel it is, too. And very tastefully decorated.’

      Mr Jefferson Cope was clearly enjoying himself. Dr Gerard was a man who could display a lot of charm when he chose. Before long the two men had adjourned to the bar.

      After a couple of highballs Gerard said: ‘Tell me, is that a typical American family to whom you were talking?’

      Jefferson Cope sipped his drink thoughtfully. Then he said: ‘Why, no, I wouldn’t say it was exactly typical.’

      ‘No? A very devoted family, I thought.’

      Mr Cope said slowly: ‘You mean they all seem to revolve round the old lady? That’s true enough. She’s a very remarkable old lady, you know.’

      ‘Indeed?’

      Mr Cope needed very little encouragement. The gentle invitation was enough.

      ‘I don’t mind telling you, Dr Gerard, I’ve been having that family a good deal on my mind lately. I’ve been thinking about them a lot. If I may say so, it would ease my mind to talk to you about the matter. If it won’t bore you, that is?’

      Dr Gerard disclaimed boredom. Mr Jefferson Cope went on slowly, his pleasant clean-shaven face creased with perplexity.

      ‘I’ll tell you straight away that I’m just a little worried. Mrs Boynton, you see, is an old friend of mine. That is to say, not the old Mrs Boynton, the young one, Mrs Lennox Boynton.’

      ‘Ah, yes, that very charming dark-haired young lady.’

      ‘That’s right. That’s Nadine. Nadine Boynton, Dr Gerard, is a very lovely character. I knew her before she was married. She was in hospital then, working to be a trained nurse. Then she went for a vacation to stay with the Boyntons and she married Lennox.’

      ‘Yes?’

      Mr Jefferson Cope took another sip of highball and went on:

      ‘I’d like to tell you, Dr Gerard, just a little of the Boynton family history.’

      ‘Yes? I should be most interested.’

      ‘Well, you see, the late Elmer Boynton—he was quite a well-known man and a very charming personality—was twice married. His first wife died when Carol and Raymond were tiny toddlers. The second Mrs Boynton, so I’ve been told, was a handsome woman when he married her, though not very young. Seems odd to think she can ever have been handsome to look at her now, but that’s what I’ve been told on very good authority. Anyway, her husband thought a lot of her and adopted her judgement on almost every point. He was an invalid for some years before he died, and she practically ruled the roost. She’s a very capable woman with a fine head for business. A very conscientious woman, too. After Elmer died, she devoted herself absolutely to these children. There’s one of her own, too, Ginevra—pretty red-haired girl, but a bit delicate. Well, as I was telling you, Mrs Boynton devoted herself entirely to her family. She just shut out the outside world entirely. Now I don’t know what you think, Dr Gerard, but I don’t think that’s always a very sound thing.’

      ‘I agree with you. It is most harmful to developing mentalities.’

      ‘Yes, I should say that just about expresses it. Mrs Boynton shielded these children from the outside world and never let them make any outside contacts. The result of that is that they’ve grown up—well, kind of nervy. They’re jumpy, if you know what I mean. Can’t make friends with strangers. It’s bad, that.’

      ‘It is very bad.’

      ‘I’ve no doubt Mrs Boynton meant well. It was just over-devotion on her part.’

      ‘They all live at home?’ asked the doctor.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Do neither of the sons work?’

      ‘Why, no. Elmer Boynton was a rich man. He left all his money to Mrs Boynton for her lifetime—but it was understood that it was for the family upkeep generally.’

      ‘So they are dependent on her financially?’

      ‘That is so. And she’s encouraged them to live at home and not go out and look for jobs. Well, maybe that’s all right, there’s plenty of money, they don’t need to take a job, but I think for the male sex, anyway, work’s a good tonic. Then, there’s another thing—they’ve none of them got any hobbies. They don’t play golf. They don’t belong to any country club. They don’t go around to dances or do anything with the other young people. They live in a great barrack of a house way down in the country miles from anywhere. I tell you, Dr Gerard,

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