Contents ( 26)
- Contents
- The Last Séance
- In a Glass Darkly
- S.O.S.
- The Adventure of the Egyptian Tomb
- The Fourth Man
- The Idol House of Astarte
- The Gipsy
- Philomel Cottage
- The Lamp
- The Dream
- Wireless
- The Wife of the Kenite
- The Mystery of the Blue Jar
- The Strange Case of Sir Arthur Carmichael
- The Blue Geranium
- The Call of Wings
- The Flock of Geryon
- The Red Signal
- The Dressmaker’s Doll
- The Hound of Death
- Bibliography
- About the Author
- Also by Agatha Christie
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
‘I will put it plainly. Was any act committed by those four men which might seem to denote disrespect to the spirit of Men-her-Ra?’
The doctor gazed at Poirot in astonishment.
‘You’re talking through your hat, Monsieur Poirot. Surely you’ve not been guyed into believing all that fool talk?’
‘Absolute nonsense,’ muttered Willard angrily.
Poirot remained placidly immovable, blinking a little out of his green cat’s eyes.
‘So you do not believe it, monsieur le docteur?’
‘No, sir, I do not,’ declared the doctor emphatically. ‘I am a scientific man, and I believe only what science teaches.’
‘Was there no science then in Ancient Egypt?’ asked Poirot softly. He did not wait for a reply, and indeed Dr Ames seemed rather at a loss for the moment. ‘No, no, do not answer me, but tell me this. What do the native workmen think?’
‘I guess,’ said Dr Ames, ‘that, where white folk lose their heads, natives aren’t going to be far behind. I’ll admit that they’re getting what you might call scared—but they’ve no cause to be.’
‘I wonder,’ said Poirot non-committally.
Sir Guy leant forward.
‘Surely,’ he cried incredulously, ‘you cannot believe in—oh, but the thing’s absurd! You can know nothing of Ancient Egypt if you think that.’
For answer Poirot produced a little book from his pocket—an ancient tattered volume. As he held it out I saw its title, The Magic of the Egyptians and Chaldeans. Then, wheeling round, he strode out of the tent. The doctor stared at me.
‘What is his little idea?’
The phrase, so familiar on Poirot’s lips, made me smile as it came from another.
‘I don’t know exactly,’ I confessed. ‘He’s got some plan of exorcizing the evil spirits, I believe.’
I went in search of Poirot, and found him talking to the lean-faced young man who had been the late Mr Bleibner’s secretary.
‘No,’ Mr Harper was saying, ‘I’ve only been six months with the expedition. Yes, I knew Mr Bleibner’s affairs pretty well.’
‘Can you recount to me anything concerning his nephew?’
‘He turned up here one day, not a bad-looking fellow. I’d never met him before, but some of the others had—Ames, I think, and Schneider. The old man wasn’t at all pleased to see him. They were at it in no time, hammer and tongs. “Not a cent,” the old man shouted. “Not one cent now or when I’m dead. I intend to leave my money to the furtherance of my life’s work. I’ve been talking it over with Mr Schneider today.” And a bit more of the same. Young Bleibner lit out for Cairo right away.’
‘Was he in perfectly good health at the time?’
‘The old man?’
‘No, the young one.’
‘I believe he did mention there was something wrong with him. But it couldn’t have been anything serious, or I should have remembered.’
‘One thing more, has Mr Bleibner left a will?’
‘So far as we know, he has not.’
‘Are you remaining with the expedition, Mr Harper?’