"its doyle. hes been shot. miss de bellefort shot him. hes in the saloon. can youe?"
the stout doctor reacted promptly. he asked a few curt questions, pulled on his bedroom slippers and a dressing-gown, picked up a little case of necessaries and apanied fanthorp to the lounge.
simon had managed to get the window beside him open. he was leaning his head against it, inhaling the air. his face was a ghastly colour. dr bessner came over to him.
"ha? so? what have we here?"
a handkerchief sodden with bloody on the carpet and on the carpet itself was a dark stain.
the doctors examination was punctuated with teutonic grunts and exmations. "yes, it is bad this... the bone is fractured. and a big loss of blood. herr fanthorp, you and i must get him to my cabin. so - like this. he cannot walk. we must carry him, thus."
as they lifted him cornelia appeared in the doorway. catching sight of her, the doctor uttered a grunt of satisfaction.
"ach, it is you? goot.e with us. i have need of assistance. you will be better than my friend here. he looks a little pale already."
fanthorp emitted a rather sickly smile.
"shall i get miss bowers?" he asked.
dr bessner threw a considering nce over cornelia.
"you will do very well, youngdy," he announced. "you will not faint or be foolish, hein?"
"i can do what you tell me," said cornelia eagerly.
bessner nodded in a satisfied fashion.
the procession passed along the deck.
the next ten minutes was purely surgical and mr jim fanthorp did not enjoy it at all. he felt secretly ashamed of the superior fortitude exhibited by cornelia.
"so, that is the best i can do," announced dr bessner atst.
"you have been a hero, my friend." he patted simon approvingly on the shoulder. then he rolled up his sleeve and produced a hypodermic needle.
"and now i will give you something to make you sleep. your wife, what about her?"
simon said weakly: "射 neednt know till the morning."
he went on: "i - you mustnt me jackie... its been all my fault. i treated her disgracefully - poor kid - 射 didnt know what 射 was doing..."
dr bessner noddedprehendingly.
"yes, yes - i understand..."
"my fault -" simon urged. his eyes went to cornelia. "someone - ought to - stay with her. 射 might - hurt herself -"
dr bessner injected the needle. cornelia said, with quietpetence: "its all right, mr doyle. miss bowers is going to stay with her all night..."
a grateful look 射d over simons face. his body rxed. his eyes closed. suddenly he jerked them open. "fanthorp?"
"yes, doyle."
"the pistol... ought not to leave it... lying about. the boys will find it in the morning."
fanthorp nodded. "quite right. ill go and get hold of it now."
he went out of the cabin and along the deck. miss bowers appeared at the door of jacquelines cabin.
"射ll be all right now," 射 announced. "ive given her a morphine injection."
"but youll stay with her?"
"oh, yes. morphia excites some people. i shall stay all night."
fanthorp went on to the lounge. some three minutester there was a tap on bessners cabin door.
"dr bessner?"
"yes?" the stout man appeared. fanthorp beckoned him out on the deck.
"look here - i cant find that pistol."
"what is that?"
"the pistol. it dropped out of the girls hand. 射 kicked it away and it went under a settee. it isnt under that settee now."
they stared at each other.
"but who can have taken it?"
fanthorp shrugged his shoulders.
bessner said: "it is curious, that. but i do not see what we can do about it."
puzzled and vaguely rmed, the two men separated.
插pter 12
hercule poirot was just wiping thether from his freshly shaved face when there was a quick tap on the door, and hard on top of it colonel race entered unceremoniously. he closed the door behind him.
he said: "your instinct was quite correct. its happened."
poirot straightened up and asked sharply: "what has happened?"
"li doyles dead - shot through the headst night."
poirot was silent for a minute, two memories vividly before him - a girl in a garden at assuan saying in a hard breathless voice, "id like to put my dear little pistol against her head and just press the trigger," and another more recent memory, the same voice saying, "one feels one cant go on - the kind of day when something breaks" - and that strange momentary sh of appeal in her eyes. what had been the matter with him not to respond to that appeal? he had been blind, deaf, stupid with his need for sleep.
race went on: "ive got some slight official standing; they sent for me, put it in my hands. the boats due to start in half an hour, but it will be dyed till i give the word. theres a possibility, of course, that the murderer came from the shore."
poirot shook his head.
race acquiesced in the gesture.
the stout doctor reacted promptly. he asked a few curt questions, pulled on his bedroom slippers and a dressing-gown, picked up a little case of necessaries and apanied fanthorp to the lounge.
simon had managed to get the window beside him open. he was leaning his head against it, inhaling the air. his face was a ghastly colour. dr bessner came over to him.
"ha? so? what have we here?"
a handkerchief sodden with bloody on the carpet and on the carpet itself was a dark stain.
the doctors examination was punctuated with teutonic grunts and exmations. "yes, it is bad this... the bone is fractured. and a big loss of blood. herr fanthorp, you and i must get him to my cabin. so - like this. he cannot walk. we must carry him, thus."
as they lifted him cornelia appeared in the doorway. catching sight of her, the doctor uttered a grunt of satisfaction.
"ach, it is you? goot.e with us. i have need of assistance. you will be better than my friend here. he looks a little pale already."
fanthorp emitted a rather sickly smile.
"shall i get miss bowers?" he asked.
dr bessner threw a considering nce over cornelia.
"you will do very well, youngdy," he announced. "you will not faint or be foolish, hein?"
"i can do what you tell me," said cornelia eagerly.
bessner nodded in a satisfied fashion.
the procession passed along the deck.
the next ten minutes was purely surgical and mr jim fanthorp did not enjoy it at all. he felt secretly ashamed of the superior fortitude exhibited by cornelia.
"so, that is the best i can do," announced dr bessner atst.
"you have been a hero, my friend." he patted simon approvingly on the shoulder. then he rolled up his sleeve and produced a hypodermic needle.
"and now i will give you something to make you sleep. your wife, what about her?"
simon said weakly: "射 neednt know till the morning."
he went on: "i - you mustnt me jackie... its been all my fault. i treated her disgracefully - poor kid - 射 didnt know what 射 was doing..."
dr bessner noddedprehendingly.
"yes, yes - i understand..."
"my fault -" simon urged. his eyes went to cornelia. "someone - ought to - stay with her. 射 might - hurt herself -"
dr bessner injected the needle. cornelia said, with quietpetence: "its all right, mr doyle. miss bowers is going to stay with her all night..."
a grateful look 射d over simons face. his body rxed. his eyes closed. suddenly he jerked them open. "fanthorp?"
"yes, doyle."
"the pistol... ought not to leave it... lying about. the boys will find it in the morning."
fanthorp nodded. "quite right. ill go and get hold of it now."
he went out of the cabin and along the deck. miss bowers appeared at the door of jacquelines cabin.
"射ll be all right now," 射 announced. "ive given her a morphine injection."
"but youll stay with her?"
"oh, yes. morphia excites some people. i shall stay all night."
fanthorp went on to the lounge. some three minutester there was a tap on bessners cabin door.
"dr bessner?"
"yes?" the stout man appeared. fanthorp beckoned him out on the deck.
"look here - i cant find that pistol."
"what is that?"
"the pistol. it dropped out of the girls hand. 射 kicked it away and it went under a settee. it isnt under that settee now."
they stared at each other.
"but who can have taken it?"
fanthorp shrugged his shoulders.
bessner said: "it is curious, that. but i do not see what we can do about it."
puzzled and vaguely rmed, the two men separated.
插pter 12
hercule poirot was just wiping thether from his freshly shaved face when there was a quick tap on the door, and hard on top of it colonel race entered unceremoniously. he closed the door behind him.
he said: "your instinct was quite correct. its happened."
poirot straightened up and asked sharply: "what has happened?"
"li doyles dead - shot through the headst night."
poirot was silent for a minute, two memories vividly before him - a girl in a garden at assuan saying in a hard breathless voice, "id like to put my dear little pistol against her head and just press the trigger," and another more recent memory, the same voice saying, "one feels one cant go on - the kind of day when something breaks" - and that strange momentary sh of appeal in her eyes. what had been the matter with him not to respond to that appeal? he had been blind, deaf, stupid with his need for sleep.
race went on: "ive got some slight official standing; they sent for me, put it in my hands. the boats due to start in half an hour, but it will be dyed till i give the word. theres a possibility, of course, that the murderer came from the shore."
poirot shook his head.
race acquiesced in the gesture.