Смерть на Ниле / Death on the Nile

‘Except those of our own number, Mademoiselle?’

She shrugged her shoulders. Then she said:

‘There’s something about this country that makes me feel – wicked. It brings to the surface all the things that are boiling inside one. Everything’s so unfair – so unjust.’

‘I wonder. You cannot judge by material evidence.’

Rosalie muttered:

‘Look at – at some people’s mothers – and look at mine. There is no God but Sex, and Salome Otterbourne is its Prophet.’ She stopped. ‘I shouldn’t have said that, I suppose.

Poirot made a gesture with his hands.

‘Why not say it – to me? I am one of those who hear many things. If, as you say, you boil inside – like the jam – Eh bien, let the scum come to the surface, and then one can take it off with a spoon, so.’ He made a gesture of dropping something into the Nile. ‘Then, it has gone.’

Rosalie said:

‘What an extraordinary man you are!’ Her sulky mouth twisted into a smile. Then she suddenly stiffened as she exclaimed: ‘Well, here are Mrs Doyle and her husband! I’d no idea they were coming on this trip!’

Linnet had just emerged from a cabin halfway down the deck.

‘This is grand,’ he said as he too leaned on the rail. ‘I’m really looking forward to this trip, aren’t you, Linnet? It feels somehow so much less touristy – as though we were really going into the heart of Egypt.

His wife responded quickly:

‘I know. It’s so much – wilder, somehow.’

Her hand slipped through his arm. He pressed it close to his side.

‘We’re off, Lin,’ he murmured.

The steamer was drawing away from the jetty. They had started on their seven-day journey to the Second Cataract and back.

Behind them a light silvery laugh rang out. Linnet whipped round.

Jacqueline de Bellefort was standing there.

‘Hullo, Linnet! I didn’t expect to find you here. I thought you said you were staying in Aswan another ten days. This is a surprise!’

‘You – you didn’t-’Linnet’s tongue stammered. She forced a ghastly conventional smile. ‘I didn’t expect to see you either.’

‘No?’

Jacqueline moved away to the other side of the boat. Linnet’s grasp on her husband’s arm tightened.

‘Simon – Simon-’

All Doyle’s good-natured pleasure had gone.