Death on the Nile - Agatha Christie [73]
“Of course. That’s what I’ve come to do.” Miss Bowers settled herself comfortably in a chair. “Naturally it was a little difficult for me to decide what it was best for me to do. The family would naturally be averse to scandal of any kind, and they trusted my discretion, but the circumstances are so very unusual that it really leaves me no choice. Of course, when you didn’t find anything in the cabins, your next move would be a search of the passengers, and, if the pearls were then found in my possession, it would be rather an awkward situation and the truth would come out just the same.”
“And just what is the truth? Did you take these pearls from Mrs. Doyle’s cabin?”
“Oh, no, Colonel Race, of course not. Miss Van Schuyler did.”
“Miss Van Schuyler?”
“Yes. She can’t help it, you know, but she does—er—take things. Especially jewellery. That’s really why I’m always with her. It’s not her health at all; it’s this little idiosyncrasy. I keep on the alert, and fortunately there’s never been any trouble since I’ve been with her. It just means being watchful, you know. And she always hides the things she takes in the same place—rolled up in a pair of stockings—so that it makes it very simple. I look each morning. Of course I’m a light sleeper, and I always sleep next door to her, and with the communicating door open if it’s in a hotel, so that I usually hear. Then I go after her and persuade her to go back to bed. Of course it’s been rather more difficult on a boat. But she doesn’t usually do it at night. It’s more just picking up things that she sees left about. Of course, pearls have a great attraction for her always.”
Miss Bowers ceased speaking.
Race asked: “How did you discover they had been taken?”
“They were in her stockings this morning. I knew whose they were, of course. I’ve often noticed them. I went along to put them back, hoping that Mrs. Doyle wasn’t up yet and hadn’t discovered her loss. But there was a steward standing there, and he told me about the murder and that no one could go in. So then, you see, I was in a regular quandary. But I still hoped to slip them back in the cabin later, before their absence had been noticed. I can assure you I’ve passed a very unpleasant morning wondering what was the best thing to do. You see, the Van Schuyler family is so very particular and exclusive. It would never do if this got into the newspapers. But that won’t be necessary, will it?”
Miss Bowers really looked worried.
“That depends on circumstances,” said Colonel Race cautiously.
“But we shall do our best for you, of course. What does Miss Van Schuyler say to this?”
“Oh, she’ll deny it, of course. She always does. Says some wicked person has put it there. She never admits taking anything. That’s why if you catch her in time she goes back to bed like a lamb. Says she just went out to look at the moon. Something like that.”
“Does Miss Robson know about this—er—failing?”
“No, she doesn’t. Her mother knows, but she’s a very simple kind of girl and her mother thought it best she should know nothing about it. I was quite equal to dealing with Miss Van Schuyler,” added the competent Miss Bowers.
“We have to thank you, Mademoiselle, for coming to us so promptly,” said Poirot.
Miss Bowers stood up.
“I’m sure I hope I acted for the best.”
“Be assured that you have.”
“You see, what with there being a murder as well—”
Colonel Race interrupted her. His voice was grave.
“Miss Bowers, I am going to ask you a question, and I want to impress upon you that it has got to be answered truthfully. Miss Van Schuyler is unhinged mentally to the extent of being a kleptomaniac. Has she also a tendency to homicidal mania?”
Miss Bowers’ answer came immediately: “Oh, dear me, no! Nothing of that kind. You can take my word for it absolutely. The old lady wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
The reply came with such positive assurance that there seemed nothing more to be said. Nevertheless Poirot did interpolate one mild inquiry.
“Does Miss Van Schuyler suffer at all from deafness?”
“As a matter of fact she does, Monsieur Poirot. Not so that