Appointment With Death Page 3

  Reading the name on it, Mr Jefferson Cope was duly impressed.

  ‘Why, surely, Dr Gerard, you were over in the States not very long ago?’

  ‘Last autumn. I was lecturing at Harvard.’

  ‘Of course. Yours, Dr Gerard, is one of the most distinguished names in your profession. You’re pretty well at the head of your subject in Paris.’

  ‘My dear sir, you are far too kind! I protest.’

  ‘No, no, this is a great privilege—meeting you like this. As a matter of fact, there are several very distinguished people here in Jerusalem just at present. There’s yourself and there’s Lord Welldon, and Sir Gabriel Steinbaum, the financier. Then there’s the veteran English archaeologist, Sir Manders Stone. And there’s Lady Westholme, who’s very prominent in English politics. And there’s that famous Belgian detective Hercule Poirot.’

  ‘Little Hercule Poirot? Is he here?’

  ‘I read his name in the local paper as having lately arrived. Seems to me all the world and his wife are at the Solomon Hotel. A mighty fine hotel it is, too. And very tastefully decorated.’

  Mr Jefferson Cope was clearly enjoying himself. Dr Gerard was a man who could display a lot of charm when he chose. Before long the two men had adjourned to the bar.

  After a couple of highballs Gerard said: ‘Tell me, is that a typical American family to whom you were talking?’

  Jefferson Cope sipped his drink thoughtfully. Then he said: ‘Why, no, I wouldn’t say it was exactly typical.’

  ‘No? A very devoted family, I thought.’

  Mr Cope said slowly: ‘You mean they all seem to revolve round the old lady? That’s true enough. She’s a very remarkable old lady, you know.’

  ‘Indeed?’

  Mr Cope needed very little encouragement. The gentle invitation was enough.

  ‘I don’t mind telling you, Dr Gerard, I’ve been having that family a good deal on my mind lately. I’ve been thinking about them a lot. If I may say so, it would ease my mind to talk to you about the matter. If it won’t bore you, that is?’

  Dr Gerard disclaimed boredom. Mr Jefferson Cope went on slowly, his pleasant clean-shaven face creased with perplexity.

  ‘I’ll tell you straight away that I’m just a little worried. Mrs Boynton, you see, is an old friend of mine. That is to say, not the old Mrs Boynton, the young one, Mrs Lennox Boynton.’

  ‘Ah, yes, that very charming dark-haired young lady.’

  ‘That’s right. That’s Nadine. Nadine Boynton, Dr Gerard, is a very lovely character. I knew her before she was married. She was in hospital then, working to be a trained nurse. Then she went for a vacation to stay with the Boyntons and she married Lennox.’

  ‘Yes?’

  Mr Jefferson Cope took another sip of highball and went on:

  ‘I’d like to tell you, Dr Gerard, just a little of the Boynton family history.’

  ‘Yes? I should be most interested.’

  ‘Well, you see, the late Elmer Boynton—he was quite a well-known man and a very charming personality—was twice married. His first wife died when Carol and Raymond were tiny toddlers. The second Mrs Boynton, so I’ve been told, was a handsome woman when he married her, though not very young. Seems odd to think she can ever have been handsome to look at her now, but that’s what I’ve been told on very good authority. Anyway, her husband thought a lot of her and adopted her judgement on almost every point. He was an invalid for some years before he died, and she practically ruled the roost. She’s a very capable woman with a fine head for business. A very conscientious woman, too. After Elmer died, she devoted herself absolutely to these children. There’s one of her own, too, Ginevra—pretty red-haired girl, but a bit delicate. Well, as I was telling you, Mrs Boynton devoted herself entirely to her family. She just shut out the outside world entirely. Now I don’t know what you think, Dr Gerard, but I don’t think that’s always a very sound thing.’

  ‘I agree with you. It is most harmful to developing mentalities.’

  ‘Yes, I should say that just about expresses it. Mrs Boynton shielded these children from the outside world and never let them make any outside contacts. The result of that is that they’ve grown up—well, kind of nervy. They’re jumpy, if you know what I mean. Can’t make friends with strangers. It’s bad, that.’

  ‘It is very bad.’

  ‘I’ve no doubt Mrs Boynton meant well. It was just over-devotion on her part.’

  ‘They all live at home?’ asked the doctor.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do neither of the sons work?’

  ‘Why, no. Elmer Boynton was a rich man. He left all his money to Mrs Boynton for her lifetime—but it was understood that it was for the family upkeep generally.’

  ‘So they are dependent on her financially?’

  ‘That is so. And she’s encouraged them to live at home and not go out and look for jobs. Well, maybe that’s all right, there’s plenty of money, they don’t need to take a job, but I think for the male sex, anyway, work’s a good tonic. Then, there’s another thing—they’ve none of them got any hobbies. They don’t play golf. They don’t belong to any country club. They don’t go around to dances or do anything with the other young people. They live in a great barrack of a house way down in the country miles from anywhere. I tell you, Dr Gerard, it seems all wrong to me.’

  ‘I agree with you,’ said Dr Gerard.

  ‘Not one of them has got the least social sense. The community spirit—that’s what’s lacking! They may be a very devoted family, but they’re all bound up in themselves.’

  ‘There has never been any question of one or other of them branching out for him or herself?’

  ‘Not that I’ve heard of. They just sit around.’

  ‘Do you put the blame for that on them or on Mrs Boynton?’

  Jefferson Cope shifted uneasily.

  ‘Well, in a sense, I feel she is more or less responsible. It’s bad bringing-up on her part. All the same, when a young fellow comes to maturity it’s up to him to kick over the traces of his own accord. No boy ought to keep on being tied to his mother’s apron strings. He ought to choose to be independent.’

  Dr Gerard said thoughtfully: ‘That might be impossible.’

  ‘Why impossible?’

  ‘There are methods, Mr Cope, of preventing a tree from growing.’

  Cope stared. ‘They’re a fine healthy lot, Dr Gerard.’

  ‘The mind can be stunted and warped as well as the body.’

  ‘They’re bright mentally, too.’

  Jefferson Cope went on: ‘No, Dr Gerard, take it from me, a man has got the control of his own destiny right there in his own hands. A man who respects himself strikes out on his own and makes something of his life. He doesn’t just sit round and twiddle his thumbs. No woman ought to respect a man who does that.’

  Gerard looked at him curiously for a minute or two. Then he said: ‘You refer particularly, I think, to Mr Lennox Boynton?’

  ‘Why, yes, it was Lennox I was thinking of. Raymond’s only a boy still. But Lennox is just on thirty. Time he showed he was made of something.’

  ‘It is a difficult life, perhaps, for his wife?’

  ‘Of course it’s a difficult life for her! Nadine is a very fine girl. I admire her more than I can say. She’s never let drop one word of complaint. But she’s not happy, Dr Gerard. She’s just as unhappy as she can be.’

  Gerard nodded his head.

  ‘Yes, I think that well might be.’

  ‘I don’t know what you think about it, Dr Gerard, but I think that there’s a limit to what a woman ought to put up with! If I were Nadine I’d put it to young Lennox straight. Either he sets to and proves what he’s made of, or else—’

  ‘Or else, you think, she should leave him?’

  ‘She’s got her own life to live, Dr Gerard. If Lennox doesn’t appreciate her as she ought to be appreciated—well, there are other men who will.’

  ‘There is—yourself, for instance?’
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br />   The American flushed. Then he looked straight at the other with a certain simple dignity.

  ‘That’s so,’ he said. ‘I’m not ashamed of my feeling for that lady. I respect her and I am very deeply attached to her. All I want is her happiness. If she were happy with Lennox, I’d sit right back and fade out of the picture.’

  ‘But as it is?’

  ‘But as it is I’m standing by! If she wants me, I’m here!’

  ‘You are, in fact, the parfait gentil knight,’ murmured Gerard.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘My dear sir, chivalry only lives nowadays in the American nation! You are content to serve your lady without hope of reward! It is most admirable, that! What exactly do you hope to be able to do for her?’

  ‘My idea is to be right here at hand if she needs me.’

  ‘And what, may I ask, is the older Mrs Boynton’s attitude towards you?’

  Jefferson Cope said slowly: ‘I’m never quite sure about that old lady. As I’ve told you, she isn’t fond of making outside contacts. But she’s been different to me, she’s always very gracious and treats me quite like one of the family.’

  ‘In fact, she approves of your friendship with Mrs Lennox?’

  ‘She does.’

  Dr Gerard shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘That is, perhaps, a little odd?’

  Jefferson Cope said stiffly: ‘Let me assure you, Dr Gerard, there is nothing dishonourable in that friendship. It is purely platonic.’

  ‘My dear sir, I am quite sure of that. I repeat, though, that for Mrs Boynton to encourage that friendship is a curious action on her part. You know, Mr Cope, Mrs Boynton interests me—she interests me greatly.’

  ‘She is certainly a remarkable woman. She has great force of character—a most prominent personality. As I say, Elmer Boynton had the greatest faith in her judgement.’

  ‘So much so that he was content to leave his children completely at her mercy from the financial point of view. In my country, Mr Cope, it is impossible by law to do such a thing.’

  Mr Cope rose. ‘In America,’ he said, ‘we’re great believers in absolute freedom.’

  Dr Gerard rose also. He was unimpressed by the remark. He had heard it made before by people of many different nationalities. The illusion that freedom is the prerogative of one’s own particular race is fairly widespread.

  Dr Gerard was wiser. He knew that no race, no country and no individual could be described as free. But he also knew that there were different degrees of bondage.

  He went up to bed thoughtful and interested.

  Chapter 6

  Sarah King stood in the precincts of the Temple—the Haramesh-Sherif. Her back was to the Dome of the Rock. The splashing of fountains sounded in her ears. Little groups of tourists passed by without disturbing the peace of the oriental atmosphere.

  Strange, thought Sarah, that once a Jebusite should have made this rocky summit into a threshing floor and that David should have purchased it for six hundred shekels of gold and made it a Holy Place. And now the loud chattering tongues of sightseers of all nations could be heard.

  She turned and looked at the Mosque which now covered the shrine and wondered if Solomon’s temple would have looked half as beautiful.

  There was a clatter of footsteps and a little party came out from the interior of the Mosque. It was the Boyntons escorted by a voluble dragoman. Mrs Boynton was supported between Lennox and Raymond. Nadine and Mr Cope walked behind. Carol came last. As they were moving off, the latter caught sight of Sarah.

  She hesitated, then, on a sudden decision, she wheeled round and ran swiftly and noiselessly across the courtyard.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I must—I—I felt I must speak to you.’

  ‘Yes?’ said Sarah.

  Carol was trembling violently. Her face was quite white.

  ‘It’s about—my brother. When you—you spoke to him last night you must have thought him very rude. But he didn’t mean to be—he—he couldn’t help it. Oh, do please believe me.’

  Sarah felt that the whole scene was ridiculous. Both her pride and her good taste were offended. Why should a strange girl suddenly rush up and tender a ridiculous apology for a boorish brother?

  An off-hand reply trembled on her lips—and then, quickly, her mood changed.

  There was something out of the ordinary here. This girl was in deadly earnest. That something in Sarah which had led her to adopt a medical career reacted to the girl’s need. Her instinct told her there was something badly wrong.

  She said encouragingly: ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘He spoke to you on the train, didn’t he?’ began Carol.

  Sarah nodded. ‘Yes; at least, I spoke to him.’

  ‘Oh, of course. It would be that way round. But, you see, last night Ray was afraid—’

  She stopped.

  ‘Afraid?’

  Carol’s white face crimsoned.

  ‘Oh, I know it sounds absurd—mad. You see, my mother—she’s—she’s not well—and she doesn’t like us making friends outside. But—but I know Ray would—would like to be friends with you.’

  Sarah was interested. Before she could speak, Carol went on: ‘I—I know what I’m saying sounds very silly, but we are—rather an odd family.’ She cast a quick look round—it was a look of fear.

  ‘I—I mustn’t stay,’ she murmured. ‘They may miss me.’

  Sarah made up her mind. She spoke.

  ‘Why shouldn’t you stay—if you want to? We might walk back together.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Carol drew back. ‘I—I couldn’t do that.’

  ‘Why not?’ said Sarah.

  ‘I couldn’t really. My mother would be—would be—’

  Sarah said clearly and calmly:

  ‘I know it’s awfully difficult sometimes for parents to realize that their children are grown up. They will go on trying to run their lives for them. But it’s a pity, you know, to give in! One must stand up for one’s rights.’

  Carol murmured: ‘You don’t understand—you don’t understand in the least…’

  Her hands twisted together nervously.

  Sarah went on: ‘One gives in sometimes because one is afraid of rows. Rows are very unpleasant, but I think freedom of action is always worth fighting for.’

  ‘Freedom?’ Carol stared at her. ‘None of us have ever been free. We never will be.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ said Sarah clearly.

  Carol leaned forward and touched her arm.

  ‘Listen. I must try and make you understand! Before her marriage my mother—she’s my stepmother really—was a wardress in a prison. My father was the Governor and he married her. Well, it’s been like that ever since. She’s gone on being a wardress—to us. That’s why our life is just—being in prison!’

  Her head jerked round again.

  ‘They’ve missed me. I—I must go.’

  Sarah caught her by the arm as she was darting off.

  ‘One minute. We must meet again and talk.’

  ‘I can’t. I shan’t be able to.’

  ‘Yes, you can.’ She spoke authoritatively. ‘Come to my room after you go to bed. It’s 319. Don’t forget, 319.’

  She released her hold. Carol ran off after her family.

  Sarah stood staring after her. She awoke from her thoughts to find Dr Gerard by her side.

  ‘Good morning, Miss King. So you’ve been talking to Miss Carol Boynton?’

  ‘Yes, we had the most extraordinary conversation. Let me tell you.’

  She repeated the substance of her conversation with the girl. Gerard pounced on one point.

  ‘Wardress in a prison, was she, that old hippopotamus? That is significant, perhaps.’

  Sarah said:

  ‘You mean that that is the cause of her tyranny? It is the habit of her former profession.’

  Gerard shook his head.

  ‘No, that is approaching it from the wrong angle. There is some deep underlying compulsion.
She does not love tyranny because she has been a wardress. Let us rather say that she became a wardress because she loved tyranny. In my theory it was a secret desire for power over other human beings that led her to adopt that profession.’

  His face was very grave.

  ‘There are such strange things buried down in the unconscious. A lust for power—a lust for cruelty—a savage desire to tear and rend—all the inheritance of our past racial memories…They are all there, Miss King, all the cruelty and savagery and lust…We shut the door on them and deny them conscious life, but sometimes—they are too strong.’

  Sarah shivered. ‘I know.’

  Gerard continued: ‘We see it all round us today—in political creeds, in the conduct of nations. A reaction from humanitarianism—from pity—from brotherly good-will. The creeds sound well sometimes—a wise régime—a beneficent government—but imposed by force—resting on a basis of cruelty and fear. They are opening the door, these apostles of violence, they are letting up the old savagery, the old delight in cruelty for its own sake! Oh, it is difficult—Man is an animal very delicately balanced. He has one prime necessity—to survive. To advance too quickly is as fatal as to lag behind. He must survive! He must, perhaps, retain some of the old savagery, but he must not—no definitely he must not—deify it!’

  There was a pause. Then Sarah said:

  ‘You think old Mrs Boynton is a kind of sadist?’

  ‘I am almost sure of it. I think she rejoices in the infliction of pain—mental pain, mind you, not physical. That is very much rarer and very much more difficult to deal with. She likes to have control of other human beings and she likes to make them suffer.’

  ‘It’s pretty beastly,’ said Sarah.

  Gerard told her of his conversation with Jefferson Cope. ‘He doesn’t realize what is going on?’ she said thoughtfully.

  ‘How should he? He is not a psychologist.’

  ‘True. He hasn’t got our disgusting minds!’

  ‘Exactly. He has a nice, upright, sentimental, normal American mind. He believes in good rather than evil. He sees that the atmosphere of the Boynton family is all wrong, but he credits Mrs Boynton with misguided devotion rather than active maleficence.’