Death Comes as End - Agatha Christie [44]
‘It is fortunate that Yahmose drank much less of the poisoned wine. He sipped his wine whereas it seems your son Sobek tossed it off at a draught.’
Imhotep groaned.
‘You have there the difference between them. Yahmose timid, cautious and slow in his approach to everything. Even eating and drinking. Sobek, always given to excess, generous, free-handed–alas! imprudent.’
Then he added sharply:
‘And the wine was definitely poisoned?’
‘There is no doubt of that, Imhotep. The residue was tested by my young assistants–of the animals treated with it, all died more or less swiftly.’
‘And yet I who had drunk the same wine not an hour earlier have felt no ill effects.’
‘It was doubtless not poisoned at that time–the poison was added afterwards.’
Imhotep struck the palm of one hand with his other hand clenched into a fist.
‘No one,’ he declared, ‘no one living would dare to poison my sons here under my roof! Such a thing is impossible. No living person, I say!’
Mersu inclined his head slightly. His face became inscrutable.
‘Of that, Imhotep, you are the best judge.’
Imhotep stood scratching nervously behind his ear.
‘There is a tale I would like you to hear,’ he said abruptly.
He clapped his hands and as a servant ran in, he called:
‘Bring the herd boy here.’
He turned back to Mersu, saying:
‘This is a boy whose wits are not of the best. He takes in what people say to him with difficulty and he has not full possession of his faculties. Nevertheless he has eyes and his eye-sight is good, and he is moreover devoted to my son Yahmose who has been gentle with him and kindly to his infirmity.’
The servant came back, dragging by the hand a thin, almost black-skinned boy, clad in a loin-cloth, with slightly squinting eyes and a frightened, witless face.
‘Speak,’ said Imhotep sharply. ‘Repeat what you told me just now.’
The boy hung his head, his fingers began kneading the cloth round his waist.
‘Speak,’ shouted Imhotep.
Esa came hobbling in, supported by her stick and peering with her dim eyes.
‘You are terrifying the child. Here, Renisenb, give him this jujube. There, boy, tell us what you saw.’
The boy gazed from one to the other of them.
Esa prompted him.
‘It was yesterday, as you passed the door of the courtyard–you saw–what did you see?’
The boy shook his head, glancing sideways. He murmured:
‘Where is my Lord Yahmose?’
The priest spoke with authority and kindliness:
‘It is the wish of your Lord Yahmose that you tell us your tale. Have no fear. No one will hurt you.’
A gleam of light passed over the boy’s face. ‘My Lord Yahmose has been good to me. I will do what he wishes.’
He paused. Imhotep seemed about to break out, but a look from the physician restrained him.
Suddenly the boy spoke, nervously, in a quick gabble, and with a look from side to side as he spoke, as though he was afraid that some unseen presence would overhear him.
‘It was the little donkey–protected by Seth and always up to mischief. I ran after him with my stick. He went past the big gate of the courtyard, and I looked in through the gate at the house. There was no one on the porch, but there was a wine-stand there. And then a woman, a lady of the house, came out upon the porch from the house. She walked to the wine jar and she held out her hands over it and then–and then–she went back into the house, I think. I do not know. For I heard footsteps and turned and saw in the distance my Lord Yahmose coming back from the fields. So I went on seeking the little donkey, and my Lord Yahmose went into the courtyard.’
‘And you did not warn him,’ cried Imhotep, angrily. ‘You said nothing.’
The boy cried out, ‘I did not know anything was wrong. I saw nothing but the lady standing there smiling down as she spread out her hands over the wine jar…I saw nothing…’
‘Who was this lady, boy?’ asked the priest.
With a vacant expression the boy shook his head.
‘I do not know. She must have been one of the ladies of the house. I do not know them. I have the herds at the far end of the cultivation. She wore a dress of dyed linen.’
Renisenb started.