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. It happens that I am urgently in need of someone to help me – and I think very possibly that you are the man who could do it.’
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.
Linnet Doyle went on:
‘I am the subject, Monsieur Poirot, of an intolerable persecution. That persecution has got to stop! My own idea was to go to the police about it, but my – my husband seems to think that the police would be powerless to do anything.’
‘Perhaps – if you would explain a little further?’ murmured Poirot politely.
‘Oh, yes, I will do so. The matter is perfectly simple.’
There was still no hesitation – no faltering. Linnet Doyle had a clear-cut businesslike mind. She only paused a minute so as to present the facts as concisely as possible.
‘Before I met my husband, he was engaged to a Miss de Bellefort. She was also a friend of mine. My husband broke off his engagement to her – they were not suited in any way. She, I am sorry to say, took it rather hard… I – am very sorry about that – but these things cannot be helped. She made certain – well, threats – to which I paid very little attention, and which, I may say, she has not attempted to carry out. But instead she has adopted the extraordinary course of – of following us about wherever we go.’
Poirot raised his eyebrows.
‘Ah – rather an unusual – er – revenge.’
‘Very unusual – and very ridiculous! But also – annoying.’
She bit her lip.
Poirot nodded.
‘Yes, I can imagine that. You are, I understand, on your honeymoon?’
‘Yes. It happened – the first time – at Venice. She was there – at Danielli’s. I thought it was just coincidence. Rather embarrassing, but that was all. Then we found her on board the boat at Brindisi. We – we understood that she was going on to Palestine. We left her, as we thought, on the boat. But – but when we got to Mena House she was there – waiting for us.’
Poirot nodded.
‘And now?’
‘We came up the Nile by boat. I–I was half expecting to find her on board. When she wasn’t there I thought she had stopped being so – so childish. But when we got here – she – she was here – waiting.’
Poirot eyed her keenly for a moment. She was still perfectly composed, but the knuckles of the hand that was gripping the table were white with the force of her grip.
He said:
‘And you are afraid this state of things may continue?’
‘Yes.’ She paused. ‘Of course the whole thing is idiotic! Jacqueline is making herself utterly ridiculous. I am surprised she hasn’t got more pride – more dignity.’
Poirot made a slight gesture.
‘There are times, Madame, when pride and dignity – they go by the board! There are other – emphasiser emotions.’
‘Yes, possibly.’ Linnet spoke impatiently. ‘But what on earth can she hope to gain by all this?’
‘It is not always a question of gain, Madame.’
Something in his tone struck Linnet disagreeably. She flushed and said quickly:
‘You are right. A discussion of motives is beside the point. The crux of the matter is that this has got to be stopped.’
