Chapter 30 18

There was a knock on the door. "Come in." Reis replied.A waiter walks in. "Excuse me, sir," he said to Poirot, "Mr. Doyle would like to see you." "Okay, I'll go." Poirot stood up, walked out of the smoking room, and walked along the ladder leading from the deck to the cabin to Dr. Bessler's room. Simon, whose cheeks were flushed from embarrassment or from a high fever, leaned against the pillow.He looked a little embarrassed. "Mr. Poirot, it is very kind of you to come. I have something to ask for your help." "What's up?"

He blushed even more. "Yeah...it's about Jackie. I want to see her. Do you think—would you mind—mind her if you ask her to come? You know I've been lying here thinking...that poor Child—she was never just a child—and I treat her like this...I..." He stammered. Poirot looked at him amusedly. "You want to see Miss Jaclyn? I'll go find her." "Thank you. You are very kind." Poirot went at his request and found Jaclyn Dubelfort huddled in a corner of the observation hall with a book on her lap, but she did not read it. Poirot said softly: "Follow me, miss. Mr. Doyle wants to see you." Jaclyn sat up suddenly, flushing—and then pale.She was clearly confused.

"Simon? He wants to see me...me?" Poirot noticed that she was dubious. "Will you come, miss?" "I...well, of course I'll come." She followed him like a docile child, a confused child. Poirot entered Dr. Bessler's room. "Miss Jaclyn is here." She came in after him, swayed, stopped... stood there dumbfounded, staring into Simon's face. "How are you, Jackie?" Simon looked equally embarrassed.He continued, "It's very kind of you to come. I wanted to tell you something... I mean..." She interrupted him, saying hastily and desperately;

"Simon... I didn't kill Lin Na. You know I didn't do that... I... did go crazy last night.oh can you forgive me " Simon spoke more smoothly now. "Of course I'll forgive you. It's all right, it's all right! That's all I'm going to say. I thought you'd be a little worried, you know..." "Worried? A little? Oh, Simon!" "I saw you just to tell you that there's nothing going on now. See, you were just a little nervous last night and your heartstrings were a little tensed, and that's only natural." "Oh, Shimon! I might have killed you!"

"No. That little guy..." "Your legs! Maybe you'll never walk again..." "Look at me, Jackie, don't worry about it. When I get to Yaswin, they'll x-ray me right away, remove the bullet, and everything will be back to normal." Jaclyn sobbed twice, then rushed forward, knelt down beside Simon's bed, and sobbed with her face covered.Simon patted her head awkwardly.When his eyes met Poirot, the latter sighed and went out. As he left, Poirot heard intermittently: "How can I be so vicious? Oh, Shimon...I'm truly sorry." Outside, Cornia Robertson was leaning on the pole.She turned her head.

"Oh, it's you, M. Poirot. It seems strange that the weather is so fine today." Poirot looked up at the sky. "You can't see the moon when the sun is shining," he said, "but when the sun is gone... Oh, when the sun goes away..." Cornea's lips parted slightly. "Sorry, I don't understand." "I mean, miss, when the sun goes down, we see the moon. Is that so?" "Why...how, of course." She looked at him suspiciously. Poirot smiled. "I almost said something stupid by accident," he said. He strolled towards the stern, and as he passed the next room, he paused for a moment, and heard fragments of conversation in the room:

"Has no conscience--has no thought of what I've done for you--has no thought for your poor mother--has no idea what I've suffered..." The corners of Poirot's mouth tightened.He raised his hand and knocked on the door. There was a sudden silence in the room, and Mrs. Utterburth replied, "Who?" "Is Miss Rosalie there?" Rosalie appeared at the door, startling Poirot with her appearance; her eyes were dark-rimmed, and her mouth was lined with wrinkles. "What is it?" she asked hostilely. "What do you want?" "May I speak to you for a few minutes, miss? Come with me, please."

Her face immediately darkened, and she glanced at Poirot suspiciously. "Why should I?" "May I ask you?" "Oh, okay." She stepped out of the deck and closed the door behind her. "how?" Poirot took her arm lightly and walked along the deck to the stern.They passed the cabin, turned a corner, and they were alone in the stern.Behind him the Nile rises and falls. Poirot rested his elbows on the railing, while Rosalie stood upright. "How?" she asked again, still hostile. Poirot chose words and said slowly: "Miss, may I ask you some questions? But I don't think you want to answer."

"Then it seems superfluous for you to bring me here." Poirot moved a finger slowly along the railing. "Miss, you are used to taking on everything...but you can't hold on for too long. The pressure is too great. Miss, it is too much pressure for you." "I have no idea what you're talking about," Rosalie said. "Miss, what I say is the truth—the obvious and the ugly truth. Let me just say it straight! Your mother was a drinker, madam." Rosalie did not answer.Her mouth opened and closed again.She seemed overwhelmed for the first time. "You don't have to say anything, miss, let me speak for you! As early as in Aswin, I had paid close attention to the relationship between your mother and daughter, and immediately realized that despite all the unfilial words you used, in essence you were Trying to protect my own mother from something. I soon learned what it was. In fact, I knew it long before the morning I met your mother drunk. And , and found out that she was the stealthy type, which made it even more difficult to deal with. Although you have made every step of the way, all alcoholics are so cunning, she managed to buy a batch of wine, and it was smooth without you noticing. I think you are Just found out where she kept her wine yesterday. So last night, as soon as your mother fell asleep, you quietly took the wine to the other side of the boat (because your room happened to be near the shore) and threw it into the Nile."

Poirot stopped. "Am I right?" "Yes, you're right." Rosalie said suddenly excitedly. "I guess I shouldn't have said it. But I don't want to make it public. It seems so... so ridiculous... I mean... I..." Poirot finished for her. "It's ridiculous that you should be suspected of being a murderer, isn't it?" Rosalie nodded. Then she cried again, "I did my best... so that no one would know... It's really not her fault. She's really discouraged. Her work is no longer popular; people are tired of all the boring sex The story...it hit so hard that's why she started drinking. For a long time I couldn't forgive her weird behavior, then I found out and I tried to stop her. She was normal for a while, then all of a sudden it started again Get drunk and start a row. It's horrible!"

She shuddered. "I've got to keep watch--stop her. . . However, she's beginning to dislike me for that reason. She . . . she hates me. I think she even hates me sometimes." "How unfortunate!" said Poirot. She turned sharply towards him. "Don't feel sorry for me, don't pity me. It's so much easier." She sighed, a long, heartbreaking sigh. "I'm so tired... terribly tired." "I understand," said Poirot. "People think I'm terrible. Arrogant, angry, bad tempered. I can't help myself. I've forgotten how to... how to be kind to people." "As I said, you have carried this burden alone for too long." Rosalie said slowly, "It's a great relief to be able to talk about it. You...you have been very kind to me, M. Poirot.I am afraid that I have often treated you very roughly. " "There is no need to be overly polite among friends." Suspicion suddenly returned to her face. "Are you... are you going to tell everyone? I figured you'd have to, because of those goddamn bottles I threw overboard." "No, no, it's not necessary. Just tell me one thing: what time was it? Ten past one?" "Probably so! I can't remember." "Tell me now; Miss Van Schuyler saw you, did you see her?" Rosalie shook her head. "No." "She said she saw you from the door." "I don't think I'll see her. I'm just looking along the deck toward the river." Poirot nodded. "So, when you looked at the deck, did you see anyone else?" Then there was silence.Rosalie frowned, seeming to be thinking hard. Finally shook his head affirmatively. "No," she said, "I haven't seen anyone." Hercule Poirot nodded slowly.But his eyes were heavy.