فصل یازدهم

Chapter eleven

Sarah King was sitting on a hill, picking wild flowers, and Dr Gerard sat on a rough wall of stones near her. Sarah looked up. ‘That little man’s coming up the hill,’ she said ‘I suppose he’s looking for us.’ Poirot reached them at last, wiping his hot forehead, before looking sadly at his expensive leather shoes.

‘This stony country!’ he said. ‘My poor shoes!’

‘Why do you wear shoes like that in the desert?’ asked Sarah.

‘I like to be well-dressed,’ Poirot answered.

‘Women do not look their best in the desert,’ said Dr Gerard thoughtfully. ‘Miss King always looks well-dressed, but Lady Westholme wears such thick coats, skirts and boots - and those terrible riding breeches!

And poor Miss Pierce - her clothes are so pale and dull, and she wears too much jewellery.’

‘I don’t think Monsieur Poirot climbed up here to talk about clothes!’ said Sarah.

‘True,’ said Poirot. ‘I came to ask you both about Mrs Boynton. I have a feeling that the way her mind worked is very important in this case.’

‘From my point of view she was certainly very interesting,’ said Dr Gerard. He described his own interest in the Boynton family, and his conversation with Jefferson Cope.

‘He had no idea about the hate and unhappiness in the Boynton family,’ explained the doctor, ‘But I think that on the journey to Petra, Mr Cope was beginning to realize what Mrs Boynton was really like.’ He told them what Mr Cope had said about Mrs Boynton’s behaviour to the servant and her baby.

‘That story about the servant is interesting,’ said Poirot thoughtfully. ‘It shows how cruel Mrs Boynton could be. But I do not understand - why did Mrs Boynton arrange this trip abroad, when she knew it would be more difficult to control her family?’

Dr Gerard leaned forward excitedly. ‘She was bored!’ he exclaimed. ‘She needed a new challenge! Mrs Boynton wanted her family to rebel, so she could use her power to control them once again.’

Poirot took a deep breath. ‘Yes, I see exactly what you mean. Mrs Boynton chose to live dangerously - and now she is dead!’

Just then they saw a girl wandering along the side of the hill. Her red-gold hair shone in the sunlight, and a strange secret smile was on her lovely mouth.

‘How beautiful she is,’ said Dr Gerard. ‘She has a face to dream of, as I once did. When I was ill with malaria I opened my eyes and saw her face - with its sweet strange smile. I was sorry to wake up from my dream.’ Then he added, ‘That is Ginevra Boynton.’