Смерть на Ниле / Death on the Nile - стр. 34
With a quick gesture she fumbled in a little silk bag that lay on the seat. Then she held out her hand. On the palm of it was a small pearl-handled pistol – a dainty toy it looked.
‘Nice little thing, isn’t it? she said. ‘Looks too foolish to be real, but it is real! One of those bullets would kill a man or a woman. And I’m a good shot.’ She smiled a faraway, reminiscent smile. ‘When I went home as a child with my mother to South Carolina, my grandfather taught me to shoot. He was the old-fashioned kind that believes in shooting – especially where honour is concerned. My father, too, he fought several duels as a young man. He was a good swordsman. He killed a man once. That was over a woman. So you see, Monsieur Poirot’-she met his eyes squarely-‘I’ve hot blood in me! I bought this when it first happened. I meant to kill one or other of them – the trouble was I couldn’t decide which. Both of them would have been unsatisfactory. If I’d thought Linnet would have looked afraid – but she’s got plenty of physical courage. She can stand up to physical action. And then I thought I’d – wait! That appealed to me more and more. After all, I could do it any time; it would be more fun to wait and – think about it! And then this idea came to my mind – to follow them! Whenever they arrived at some faraway spot and were together and happy, they should see – me! And it worked! It got Linnet badly – in a way nothing else could have done! It got right under her skin… That was when I began to enjoy myself… And there’s nothing she can do about it! I’m always perfectly pleasant and polite! There’s not a word they can take hold of! It’s poisoning everything – everything – for them.’
Her laugh rang out, clear and silvery.
Poirot grasped her arm.
‘Be quiet. Quiet, I tell you.’
Jacqueline looked at him.
‘Well?’ she said. Her smile was definitely challenging.
‘Mademoiselle, I beseech you, do not do what you are doing.’
‘Leave dear Linnet alone, you mean!’
‘It is deeper than that. Do not open your heart to evil.’
Her lips fell apart; a look of bewilderment came into her eyes.
Poirot went on gravely:
‘Because – if you do – evil will come … Yes, very surely evil will come… It will enter in and make its home within you, and after a little while it will no longer be possible to drive it out.’
Jacqueline stared at him. Her glance seemed to waver, to flicker uncertainly.
She said: ‘I – don’t know-’ Then she cried out definitely: ‘You can’t stop me.’
‘No,’ said Hercule Poirot. ‘I cannot stop you.’ His voice was sad.