Смерть на Ниле / Death on the Nile

It was about five minutes later that the other girl changed her seat to the opposite side of the terrace. She sat smoking and smiling quietly, the picture of contented ease. But always, as though unconsciously, her meditative gaze was on Simon Doyle’s wife.

After a quarter of an hour Linnet Doyle got up abruptly and went into the hotel. Her husband followed her almost immediately.

Jacqueline de Bellefort smiled and twisted her chair round. She lit a cigarette and stared out over the Nile. She went on smiling to herself.

Chapter 3

‘Monsieur Poirot.’

Poirot got hastily to his feet. He had remained sitting out on the terrace alone after everyone else had left. Lost in meditation, he had been staring at the smooth shiny black rocks when the sound of his name recalled him to himself.

It was a well-bred, assured voice, a charming voice, although perhaps a trifle arrogant.

Hercule Poirot, rising quickly, looked into the commanding eyes of Linnet Doyle. She wore a wrap of rich purple velvet over her white satin gown and she looked more lovely and more regal than Poirot had imagined possible.

‘You are Monsieur Hercule Poirot?’ said Linnet.

It was hardly a question.

‘At your service, Madame.’

‘You know who I am, perhaps?’

‘Yes, Madame. I have heard your name. I know exactly who you are.’

Linnet nodded. That was only what she had expected. She went on, in her charming autocratic manner:

‘Will you come with me into the card room, Monsieur Poirot? I am very anxious to speak to you.

‘Certainly, Madame.’

She led the way into the hotel. He followed. She led him into the deserted card room and motioned him to close the door. Then she sank down on a chair at one of the tables and he sat down opposite her.

She plunged straightaway into what she wanted to say. There were no hesitations. Her speech came flowingly.

‘I have heard a great deal about you, Monsieur Poirot, and I know that you are a very clever man.

Poirot inclined his head.

‘You are very amiable, Madame. But you see, I am on holiday, and when I am on holiday I do not take cases.’

‘That could be arranged.’

It was not offensively said – only with the quiet confidence of a young woman who had always been able to arrange matters to her satisfaction.