Appointment with Death by Agatha Christie Read Free Book Online Page A

night.’
    â€˜Good night—and thank you.’
    Carol went out of the room and slipped noiselessly along the corridor. Her own room was on the floor above. She reached it, opened the door—and stood appalled on the threshold. Mrs Boynton was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace in a crimson wool dressing-gown.
    A little cry escaped from Carol’s lips. ‘Oh!’
    A pair of black eyes bored into hers.
    â€˜Where have you been, Carol?’
    â€˜I—I—’
    â€˜Where have you been?’
    A soft, husky voice with that queer menacing under-tone in it that always made Carol’s heart beat with unreasoning terror.
    â€˜To see a Miss King—Sarah King.’
    â€˜The girl who spoke to Raymond the other evening?’
    â€˜Yes, Mother.’
    â€˜Have you made any plans to see her again?’
    Carol’s lips moved soundlessly. She nodded assent.Fright—great sickening waves of fright…
    â€˜When?’
    â€˜Tomorrow night.’
    â€˜You are not to go. You understand?’
    â€˜Yes, Mother.’
    â€˜You promise?’
    â€˜Yes—yes.’
    Mrs Boynton struggled to get up. Mechanically Carol came forward and helped her. Mrs Boynton walked slowly across the room, supporting herself on her stick. She paused in the doorway and looked back at the cowering girl.
    â€˜You are to have nothing more to do with this Miss King. You understand?’
    â€˜Yes, Mother.’
    â€˜Repeat it.’
    â€˜I am to have nothing more to do with her.’
    â€˜Good.’
    Mrs Boynton went out and shut the door.
    Stiffly, Carol moved across the bedroom. She felt sick, her whole body felt wooden and unreal. She dropped on to the bed and suddenly she was shaken by a storm of weeping.
    It was as though a vista had opened before her—a vista of sunlight and trees and flowers…
    Now the black walls had closed round her once more.

Chapter 8
    â€˜Can I speak to you a minute?’
    Nadine Boynton turned in surprise, staring into the dark eager face of an entirely unknown young woman.
    â€˜Why, certainly.’
    But as she spoke, almost unconsciously she threw a quick nervous glance over her shoulder.
    â€˜My name is Sarah King,’ went on the other.
    â€˜Oh, yes?’
    â€˜Mrs Boynton, I’m going to say something rather odd to you. I talked to your sister-in-law for quite a long time the other evening.’
    A faint shadow seemed to ruffle the serenity of Nadine Boynton’s face.
    â€˜You talked to Ginevra?’
    â€˜No, not to Ginevra—to Carol.’
    The shadow lifted.
    â€˜Oh, I see—to Carol.’
    Nadine Boynton seemed pleased, but very much surprised. ‘How did you manage that?’
    Sarah said: ‘She came to my room—quite late.’
    She saw the faint raising of the pencilled brows on the white forehead. She said with some embarrassment: ‘I’m sure this must seem very odd to you.’
    â€˜No,’ said Nadine Boynton. ‘I am very glad. Very glad indeed. It is very nice for Carol to have a friend to talk to.’
    â€˜We—we got on very well together.’ Sarah tried to choose her words carefully. ‘In fact we arranged to—to meet again the following night.’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜But Carol didn’t come.’
    â€˜Didn’t she?’
    Nadine’s voice was cool—reflective. Her face, so quiet and gentle, told Sarah nothing.
    â€˜No. Yesterday she was passing through the hall. I spoke to her and she didn’t answer. Just looked at me once, and then away again, and hurried on.’
    â€˜I see.’
    There was a pause. Sarah found it difficult to go on. Nadine Boynton said presently: ‘I’m—very sorry. Carol is—rather a nervous girl.’
    Again that pause. Sarah took her courage in both hands. ‘You know, Mrs Boynton, I’m by way of being a doctor. I think—I think it would be good for yoursister-in-law