Curtain - Agatha Christie [44]
I smiled to myself.
I wrapped a silk handkerchief round my hand and unscrewed the bottle carefully. There must be no fingerprints on it.
I emptied out the tablets. Yes, they were almost exactly the same size as the aspirins. I put eight aspirins in the bottle, then filled up with the Slumberyls, leaving out eight of them. The bottle now looked exactly as it had before. Allerton would notice no difference.
I went back to my room. I had a bottle of whisky there – most of us had at Styles. I got out two glasses and a syphon. I’d never known Allerton refuse a drink yet. When he came up I’d ask him in for a nightcap.
I tried the tablets in a little of the spirit. They dissolved easily enough. I tasted the mixture gingerly. A shade bitter perhaps but hardly noticeable. I had my plan. I should be just pouring myself out a drink when Allerton came up. I would hand that to him and pour myself out another. All quite easy and natural.
He could have no idea of my feelings – unless of course Judith had told him. I considered this for a moment, but decided that I was quite safe here. Judith never told anyone anything.
He would probably believe me to be quite unsuspicious of their plan.
I had nothing to do but to wait. It would be a long time, probably an hour or two, before Allerton came up to bed. He was always a late bird.
I sat there quietly waiting.
A sudden knock on the door made me start. It was only Curtiss, however. Poirot was asking for me.
I came to myself with a shock. Poirot! I had never once thought of him all evening. He must have wondered what had become of me. It worried me a little. First of all because I was ashamed of never having been near him, and secondly I did not want him to suspect that anything out of the way had happened.
I followed Curtiss across the passage.
‘Eh bien!’ exclaimed Poirot. ‘So you desert me, hein?’
I forced a yawn and an apologetic smile. ‘Awfully sorry, old boy,’ I said. ‘But to tell the truth I’ve got such a blinding headache I can hardly see out of my eyes. It’s the thunder in the air, I suppose. I really have been feeling quite muzzy with it – in fact, so much so I entirely forgot I hadn’t been in to say good night to you.’
As I had hoped, Poirot was immediately solicitous. He offered remedies. He fussed. He accused me of having sat about in the open air in a draught. (On the hottest day of the summer!) I refused aspirin on the grounds that I had already taken some, but I was not able to avoid being given a cup of sweet and wholly disgusting chocolate!
‘It nourishes the nerves, you comprehend,’ Poirot explained.
I drank it to avoid argument and then, with Poirot’s anxious and affectionate exclamations still ringing in my ears, I bade him good night.
I returned to my own room, and shut the door ostentatiously. Later, I opened it a crack with the utmost caution. I could not fail now to hear Allerton when he came. But it would be some time yet.
I sat there waiting. I thought of my dead wife. Once, under my breath, I murmured: ‘You understand, darling, I’m going to save her.’
She had left Judith in my care, I was not going to fail her.
In the quiet and the stillness I suddenly felt that Cinders was very near to me.
I felt almost as though she were in the room. And still I sat on grimly, waiting.
Chapter 13
I
There is something about writing down an anti-climax in cold blood that is somewhat shattering to one’s self-esteem.
For the truth of the matter is, you see, that I sat there waiting for Allerton and that I fell asleep!
Not so surprising really, I suppose. I had slept very badly the night before. I had been out in the air the whole day. I was worn out with worry and the strain of nerving myself for doing what I had decided to do. On top of all that was the heavy thundery weather. Possibly even the fierce effort of concentration I was making helped.
Anyway, it happened. I fell asleep there in my chair,