Death Comes as End - Agatha Christie [74]
‘Is anything wrong? The child yelled so loud. I thought perhaps–’
She paused, disappointed. Her eager, mean, spiteful face, hoping for some catastrophe, fell.
Renisenb looked from one woman to the other.
Hate in one face. Love in the other. Which, she wondered, was the more terrible?
IV
‘Yahmose, be careful, be careful of Kait.’
‘Of Kait?’ Yahmose showed his astonishment. ‘My dear Renisenb–’
‘I tell you, she is dangerous.’
‘Our quiet Kait? She has always been a meek, submissive woman, not very clever–’
Renisenb interrupted him.
‘She is neither meek nor submissive. I am afraid of her, Yahmose. I want you to be on your guard.’
‘Against Kait?’ He was still incredulous. ‘I can hardly see Kait dealing out death all round. She would not have the brains.’
‘I do not think that it is brains that are concerned. A knowledge of poisons, that is all that has been needed. And you know that such knowledge is often found amongst certain families. They hand it down from mother to daughter. They brew these concoctions themselves from potent herbs. It is the kind of lore that Kait might easily have. She brews medicines for the children when they are ill, you know.’
‘Yes, that is true.’ Yahmose spoke thoughtfully.
‘Henet too is an evil woman,’ went on Renisenb.
‘Henet–yes. We have never liked her. In fact, but for my father’s protection–’
‘Our father is deceived in her,’ said Renisenb.
‘That may well be.’ Yahmose added in a matter-of-fact tone, ‘She flatters him.’
Renisenb looked at him for a moment in surprise. It was the first time she had ever heard Yahmose utter a sentence containing criticism of Imhotep. He had always seemed overawed by his father.
But now, she realized, Yahmose was gradually taking the lead. Imhotep had aged by years in the last few weeks. He was incapable now of giving orders, of taking decisions. Even his physical activity seemed impaired. He spent long hours staring in front of him, his eyes filmed and abstracted. Sometimes he seemed not to understand what was said to him.
‘Do you think that she–’ Renisenb stopped. She looked round and began, ‘Is it she, do you think, who has–who is–?’
Yahmose caught her by the arm.
‘Be quiet, Renisenb, these things are better not said–not even whispered.’
‘Then you too think–’
Yahmose said softly and urgently:
‘Say nothing now. We have plans.’
CHAPTER NINETEEN
SECOND MONTH OF SUMMER 17TH DAY
The following day was the festival of the new moon. Imhotep was forced to go up to the Tomb, to make the offerings. Yahmose begged his father to leave it to him on this occasion, but Imhotep was obdurate. With what seemed now a feeble parody of his old manner, he murmured, ‘Unless I see to things myself, how can I be sure they are properly done? Have I ever shirked my duties? Have I not provided for all of you, supported you all–’
His voice stopped. ‘All? All–? Ah, I forget–my two brave sons–my handsome Sobek–my clever and beloved Ipy. Gone from me. Yahmose and Renisenb–my dear son and daughter–you are still with me–but for how long–how long…’
‘Many long years, we hope,’ said Yahmose.
He spoke rather loudly as to a deaf man.
‘Eh? What?’ Imhotep seemed to have fallen into a coma.
He said suddenly and surprisingly:
‘It depends on Henet, does it not? Yes, it depends on Henet.’
Yahmose and Renisenb exchanged glances.
Renisenb said gently and clearly:
‘I do not understand you, father?’
Imhotep muttered something they did not catch. Then, raising his voice, a little, but with dull and vacant eyes, he said:
‘Henet understands me. She always has. She knows how great my responsibilities are–how great…Yes, how great…And always ingratitude…Therefore there must be retribution. That, I think, is practice well established. Presumption must be punished. Henet has always been modest, humble and devoted. She shall be rewarded…’
He drew himself up and said pompously:
‘You understand, Yahmose. Henet is to have all she wants. Her commands are to be obeyed!’
‘But why is this, father?’
‘Because I say so. Because, if what Henet wants is done, there