me and I feel a different woman. There must be some
reason for that."
"What you say is very serious, Lady Grayle. You
must remember I am not a detective. I am, if you like to
put it that way, a heart specialist--"
She interrupted him. "Eh--and don't you think it
worries me, all this? It's not a policeman I want--I can
look after myself, thank you--it's certainty I want. I've
got to know. I'm not a wicked woman, Mr. Pyne. I act
fairly by those who act fairly by me. A bargain's a
bargain. I've kept my side of it. I've paid my husband's
debts and I've not stinted him in money."
Mr. Parker Pyne had a fleeting pang of pity for Sir
George.
"And as for the girl, she's had clothes and parties and
this, that and the other. Common gratitude is all I ask."
"Gratitude is not a thing that can be produced to
order, Lady Grayle."
"Nonsense!" said Lady Grayle. She went oni "Well,
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Agatha Christie
there it is! Find out the truth for me! Once I know--"
He looked at her curiously. "Once you know, what
then, Lady Grayle?"
"That's my business." Her lips closed sharply.
Mr. Parker Pyne hesitated a minute, then he said:
"You will excuse me, Lady Grayle, but I have the im-pression
that you are not being entirely frank with me."
"That's absurd. I've told you exactly what I want you
to find out."
"Yes, but not the reason why?"
Their eyes met. Hers fell first.
"I should think the reason was self-evident," she
said.
"No, because I am in doubt upon one point."
"What is that?"
"Do you want your suspicions proved right or
wrong?"
"Really, Mr. Pyne!" The lady rose to her feet, quiv-ering
with indignation.
Mr. Parker Pyne nodded his head gently. "Yes, yes,"
he said. "But that doesn't answer my question, you
know."
"Oh!" Words seemed to fail her. She swept out of
the room.
Left alone, Mr. Parker Pyne became very thoughtful.
He was so deep in his own thoughts that he started per-ceptibly
when someone came in and sat down opposite
him. It was Miss MacNaughton.
"Surely you're all back very soon," said Mr. Parker
Pyne.
"The others aren't back. I said I had a headache and
came back alone." She hesitated. "Where is Lady
Grayle?"
"I should imagine lying down in her cabin."
"Oh, then that's all right. I don't want her to know
I've come back."
DEATH ON THE NILE
"You didn't come back on her account, then?"
Miss MacNaughton shook her head. "No, I ca
back to see you."
Mr. Parker PYne was surprised. He would have s
offhand that Miss MacNaughton was eminently capa
of looking after her troubles herself without seek
outside advice. It seemed that he was wrong.
"I've watched you since we all came on board. I th!
you're a person of wide experience and good judgme
And I want advice very badly."
"And yet--excuse me, Miss MacNaughton--1
you're not the type that usually seeks advice. I sho
say that you were a person who was quite content to
on her own judgment."
"Normally, yes. But I am in a very peculiar pc
tion." She hesitated a moment. "I do not usually
about my cases. But in this instance I think it is nec
sary. Mr. Pyne, when I left England with Lady Gray
she was a straightforward case. In plain language, th
was nothing the matter with her. That's not quite tr
perhaps. Too much leisure and too much money do
duce a definite pathological condition. Having a if
floors to scrub every day and five or six children to 1o
after would have made Lady Grayle a perfectly heall
and a much happier woman."
Mr.Parker Pyne nodded.
"As a hospital nurse, one sees a lot of these nerv
cases. Lady Grayle enjoyed her bad health. It was
part not to minimize her sufferings, to be as tactful
could--and to enjoy the trip myself as much as po
ble."
"Very sensible," said Mr. Parker Pyne.
"But Mr. Pyne, things are not as they were. The s
fering that Lady Grayle complains of now is real a
not imagined."
"You mean?"
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Agatha Christie
"I have come to suspect that Lady Grayle is being
poisoned."
"Since when have you suspected this?"
"For the past three weeks."
"Do you suspect--any particular person?"
Her eyes dropped. For the first time her voice lacked
sincerity. "No."
"I put it to you, Miss MacNaughton, that you do
suspect one particular person, and that that person is Sir
George Grayle."
"Oh, no, no, I can't believe it of him! He is so
pathetic, so childlike. He couldn't be a cold-blooded
poisoner." Her voice had an anguished note in it.
"And yet you have noticed that whenever Sir George
is absent his wife is better, and that her periods of illness
correspond with his return."
She did not answer.
"What poison do you suspect? Arsenic?"
"Something of that kind. Arsenic or antimony."
"And what steps have you taken?"
"I have done my utmost to supervise what Lady
Grayle eats and drinks."
Mr. Parker Pyne nodded. "Do you think Lady
Grayle has any suspicion herself?" he asked casually.
"Oh, no, I'm sure she hasn't."
"There you are wrong," said Mr. Parker Pyne.
"Lady Grayle does suspect."
Miss MacNaughton showed her astonishmeru.
"Lady Grayle is more capable of keeping a secret
than you imagine," said Mr. Parker Pyne. "She is a
woman who knows how to keep her own counsel very
well."
"That surprises me very much," said Miss MacNaughton
slowly.
"I should to ask one more question, Miss
DEATH ON THE NILE
177
MacNaughton. Do you think Lady Grayle likes you?"
"I've never thought about it."
They were interrupted. Mohammed came in, his face
beaming, his robes flowing behind him.
"Lady, she hear you come back; she ask for you. She
say why you not come to her?"
Elsie MacNaughton rose hurriedly. Mr. Parker Pyne
rose also.
"Would a consultation early tomorrow morning suit
you?" he asked.
"Yes, that would be the best time. Lady Grayle sleeps
late. In the meantime, I shall be very careful."
"I think Lady Grayle will be careful, too."
Miss MacNaughton disappeared.
Mr. Parker Pyne did not see Lady Grayle till just
before dinner. She was sitting smoking a cigaret and
burning what seemed to be a letter. She took no notice
at all of him, by which he gathered that she was still
offended. ·
After dinner he played bridge with Sir George,
Pamela and Basil. Everyone
seemed a little distrait and
the bridge game broke up early.
It was some hours later when Mr. Parker Pyne was
roused. It was Mohammed who came to him.
"Old lady, she very ill. Nurse, she very frightened. I
try get doctor."
Mr. Parker Pyne hurried on some clothes. He arrived
in the doorway of Lady Grayle's cabin at the same time
as Basil West. Sir George and Pamela were inside. Elsie
MacNaughton was working desperately over her pa-tient.
As Mr. Parker Pyne arrived, a final convulsion
seized the poor lady. Her arched body writhed and stif-fened.
Then she fell back on her pillows.
Mr. Parker Pyne drew Pamela gently outside.
"How awful!" the girl was half sobbing. "How
awful! Is she, is shew?"
178
Agatha Christie
"Dead? Yes, I am afraid it is all over."
He put her into Basil's keeping. Sir George came out
of the cabin, looking dazed.
"I never thought she was really ill," he was muttering.
"Never thought it for a moment."
Mr. Parker Pyne pushed past him and entered the
cabin.
Elsie MacNaughton's face was white and drawn.
"They have sent for a doctor?" she asked.
"Yes." Then he said: "Strychnine?"
,"Yes. Those convulsions are unmistakable. Oh, I
can't believe it!" She sank into a chair, weeping. He
patted her shoulder.
Then an idea seemed to strike him. He left the cabin
hurriedly and went to the lounge. There was a little
scrap of paper left unburnt in an ash tray. Just a few
words were distinguishable:
"Now, that's interesting," said Mr. Parker Pyne.
Mr. Parker Pyne sat in the room of a prominent
C/
fficial. "So that's the evidence," he said
'v complete. Man must have been a
well.'
"That
Naughton slowly.
"I should like to ask you
George a brainy man."
"e other recapitulated: "Lady
'ril. The nurse makes it for
-v in it. Sir George pro
DEATH ON THE NILE
179
duces the sherry. Two hours later, Lady Grayle dies
with unmistakable signs of strychnine poisoning. A
packet of strychnine is found in Sir George's cabin and
another packet actually in the pocket of his dinner
jacket."
"Very thorough," said Mr. Parker Pyne. "Where did
the strychnine come from, by the way?"
"There's a little doubt over that. The nurse had some
--in case Lady Grayle's heart troubled her--but she's
contradicted herself once or twice. First she said her
supply was intact, and now she says it isn't."
"Very unlike her not to be sure," was Mr. Parker
Pyne's comment.
"They were in it together, in my opinion. They've got
a weakness for each other, those two."
"Possibly; but if Miss MacNaughton had been plan-ning
murder, she'd have done it a good deal better.
She's an efficient young woman."
"Well, there it is. In my opinion, Sir George is in for
it. He hasn't a dog's chance."
"Well, well," said Mr. Parker Pyne, "I must see
what I can do."
He sought out the pretty niece.
Pamela was white and indignant. "Nunks never did
such a thing--never--never--never!"
"Then who did?" said Mr. Parker Pyne placidly.
Pamela came nearer. "Do you know what I think?
She did it herself. She's been frightfully queer lately.
She used to imagine things."
"What things?"
"Queer things. Basil, for instance. She was always
hinting that Basil was in love with her. And Basil and I
are-- we are--"
"I realize that," said Mr. Parker Pyne, smiling.
"All that about Basil was pure imagination. I think
180
Agatha Christie
she had a down on poor little Nunks, and I think she
made up that story and told it to you, and then put the
strychnine in his cabin and in his pocket and poisoned
herself. People have done things like that, haven't
they?"
"They have," admitted Mr. Parker Pyne. "But I
don't think that Lady Grayle did. She wasn't, if you'll
allow me to say so, the type."
"But the delusions?"
"Yes, I'd like to ask Mr. West about that."
He found the young man in his room. Basil answered
his questions readily enough.
"I don't want to sound fatuous, but she took a fancy
to me. That's why I daren't let her know about me and
Pamela. She'd have had Sir George fire me."
"You think Miss Grayle's theory a Iikely one?"
"Well, it's possible, I suppose." The young man was
doubtful.
"But not good enough," said Mr. Parker Pyne qui-etly.
"No, we must find something better." He became
lost in meditation for a minute or two. "A confession
would be best," he said briskly. He unscrewed his foun-tain
pen and produced a sheet of paper. "Just write it
out, will you?"
Basil West stared at him in amazement. "Me? What
on earth do you mean?"
"My dear young man"-- Mr. Parker Pyne sounded
almost paternalm"I know all about it. How you made
love to the good lady. How she had scruples. How you
fell in love with the pretty, penniless niece. How you ar-ranged
your plot. Slow poisoning. It might pass for
natural death from gastroenteritis--if not, it would be
laid to Sir George's doing, since you were careful to let
the attacks coincide with his presence.
"Then your discovery that the lady was suspicious
DEATH ON THE NILE 181
and had talked to me about the matter. Quick action!
You abstracted some strychnine from Miss MacNaughton's
store. Planted some of it in Sir George's
cabin, and some in his pocket and put sufficient into a
cachet which you enclosed with a note to the lady, telling
her it was a 'cachet of dreams.'
"A romantic idea. She'd take it as soon as the nurse
had left her, and no one would know anything about it.
But you made one mistake, my young man. It is useless
asking a lady to burn letters. They never do. I've got all
that pretty correspondence, including the one about the
cachet."
Basil West had turned green. All his good looks had
vanished. He looked like a trapped rat.
"Damn you!" he snarled. "So you know all about it.
You damned interfering Nosey Parker."
Mr. Parker Pyne was saved from physical violence by
the appearance of the witnesses he had thoughtfully
arranged to have listening outside the half-closed door.
Mr. Parker Pyne was again discussing the case with
his friend the high official.
"And I hadn't a shred of evidence! Only an almost
indecipherable fragment, with 'Burn thiM' on it. I deduced
the whole story and tried it on him. It worked. I'd
stumbled on the truth. The letters did it. Lady Grayle
had burned every scrap he wrote, but he didn't Icnow
/> that.
"She was really a very unusual woman. I was puzzled
when she came to me. What she wanted was for me to
tell her that her husband was poisoning her. In that
case, she meant to go off with young West. But she
wanted to act fairly. Curious character."
"That poor little girl is going to suffer," said the
other.
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Agatha Christie
"She'll get over it," said Mr. Parker Pyne callously.
"She's young. I'm anxious that Sir George should get a
little enjoyment before it's too late. He's been treated
like a worm for ten years. Now, Elsie MacNaughton will
be very kind to him."
He beamed. Then he sighed. "I am thinking of going
incognito to Greece. I really must have a holiday!"
The Oracle at
Delphi
Mrs. Willard J. Peters did not really care for Greece.
And of Delphi she had, in her secret heart, no opinion at
all.
Mrs. Peters' spiritual homes were Paris, London and
the Riviera. She was a woman who enjoyed hotel life,
but her idea of a hotel bedroom was a soft-pile carpet, a
luxurious bed, a profusion of different arrangements of
electric light, including a shaded bedside lamp, plenty of
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