Death on the Nile - Agatha Christie [94]
Race looked at him with the respect one able man gives to another.
“You’ve got it all well taped,” he said.
“I think so, yes. There are one or two things—that telegram for instance, that Linnet Doyle read. I should like to get that cleared up.”
“By Jove, we forgot to ask Doyle. He was telling us when poor old Ma Otterbourne came along. We’ll ask him again.”
“Presently. First, I have someone else to whom I wish to speak.”
“Who’s that?”
“Tim Allerton.”
Race raised his eyebrows.
“Allerton? Well, we’ll get him here.”
He pressed a bell and sent the steward with a message.
Tim Allerton entered with a questioning look.
“Steward said you wanted to see me?”
“That is right, Monsieur Allerton. Sit down.”
Tim sat. His face was attentive but very slightly bored.
“Anything I can do?” His tone was polite but not enthusiastic.
Poirot said: “In a sense, perhaps. What I really require is for you to listen.”
Tim’s eyebrows rose in polite surprise.
“Certainly. I’m the world’s best listener. Can be relied on to say ‘Ooer!’ at the right moments.”
“That is very satisfactory. ‘Oo-er!’ will be very expressive. Eh bien, let us commence. When I met you and your mother at Assuan, Monsieur Allerton, I was attracted to your company very strongly. To begin with, I thought your mother was one of the most charming people I had ever met—”
The weary face flickered for a moment; a shade of expression came into it.
“She is—unique,” he said.
“But the second thing that interested me was your mention of a certain lady.”
“Really?”
“Yes, a Mademoiselle Joanna Southwood. You see, I had recently been hearing that name.”
He paused and went on: “For the last three years there have been certain jewel robberies that have been worrying Scotland Yard a good deal. They are what may be described as Society robberies. The method is usually the same—the substitution of an imitation piece of jewellery for an original. My friend, Chief Inspector Japp, came to the conclusion that the robberies were not the work of one person, but of two people working in with each other very cleverly. He was convinced, from the considerable inside knowledge displayed, that the robberies were the work of people in a good social position. And finally his attention became riveted on Mademoiselle Joanna Southwood.
“Every one of the victims had been either a friend or acquaintance of hers, and in each case she had either handled or been lent the piece of jewellery in question. Also, her style of living was far in excess of her income. On the other hand it was quite clear that the actual robbery—that is to say the substitution—had not been accomplished by her. In some cases she had been out of England during the period when the jewellery must have been replaced.
“So gradually a little picture grew up in Chief Inspector Japp’s mind. Mademoiselle Southwood was at one time associated with a Guild of Modern Jewellery. He suspected that she handled the jewels in question, made accurate drawings of them, got them copied by some humble but dishonest working jeweller and that the third part of the operation was the successful substitution by another person—somebody who could have been proved never to have handled the jewels and never to have had anything to do with copies or imitations of precious stones. Of the identity of this other person Japp was ignorant.
“Certain things that fell from you in conversation interested me. A ring that disappeared when you were in Majorca, the fact that you had been in a house party where one of these fake substitutions had occurred, your close association with Mademoiselle Southwood. There was also the fact that you obviously resented