Evil Under the Sun

‘I’m not saying that he mightn’t have done it without being seen. Practically all the hotel guests were on the bathing beach except for Mrs Redfern and the Marshall girl who were down in Gull Cove, and the beginning of that path would only be overlooked by a few rooms of the hotel and there are plenty of chances against anyone looking out of those windows just at that moment. For the matter of that, I dare say it’s possible for a man to walk up to the hotel, through the lounge and out again without anyone happening to see him. But what I say is, he couldn’tcount on no one seeing him.’

Colgate said:

‘He could have gone round to the cove by boat.’

Weston nodded. He said:

‘That’s much sounder. If he’d had a boat handy in one of the coves nearby, he could have left the car, rowed or sailed to Pixy Cove, done the murder, rowed back, picked up the car and arrived back with this tale about having been to St Loo and lost his way-a story that he’d know would be pretty hard to disprove.’

‘You’re right, sir.’

The Chief Constable said:

‘Well, I leave it to you, Colgate. Comb the neighbourhood thoroughly. You know what to do. We’d better see Miss Brewster now.’

V

Emily Brewster was not able to add anything of material value to what they already knew.

Weston said after she had repeated her story:

‘And there’s nothing you know of that could help us in any way?’

Emily Brewster said shortly:

‘Afraid not. It’s a distressing business. However, I expect you’ll soon get to the bottom of it.’

Weston said:

‘I hope so, I’m sure.’

Emily Brewster said dryly:

‘Ought not to be difficult.’

‘Now what do you mean by that, Miss Brewster?’

‘Sorry. Wasn’t attempting to teach you your business. All I meant was that with a woman of that kind it ought to be easy enough.’

Hercule Poirot murmured:

‘That is your opinion?’

Emily Brewster snapped out:

‘Of course.De mortuis nil nisi bonum and all that, but you can’t get away fromfacts. That woman was a bad lot through and through. You’ve only got to hunt round a bit in her unsavoury past.’

Hercule Poirot said gently: 

‘You did not like her?’

‘I know a bit too much about her.’ In answer to the inquiring looks she went on: ‘My first cousin married one of the Erskines. You’ve probably heard that that woman induced old Sir Robert when he was in his dotage to leave most of his fortune to her away from his own family.’

Colonel Weston said:

‘And the family-er-resented that?’

‘Naturally. His association with her was a scandal anyway, and on top of that, to leave her a sum like fifty thousand pounds shows just the kind of woman she was. I dare say I sound hard, but in my opinion the Arlena Stuarts of this world deserve very little sympathy. I know of something else too-a young fellow who lost his head about her completely-he’d always been a bit wild, naturally his association with her pushed him over the edge. He did something rather fishy with some shares-solely to get money to spend on her-and only just managed to escape prosecution. That woman contaminated everyone she met. Look at the way she was ruining young Redfern. No, I’m afraid I can’t have any regret for her death-though of course it would have been better if she’d drowned herself, or fallen over a cliff. Strangling is rather unpleasant.’

‘And you think the murderer was someone out of her past?’ 

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Someone who came from the mainland with no one seeing him?’

‘Why should any one see him? We were all on the beach. I gather the Marshall child and Christine Redfern were down on Gull Cove out of the way. Captain Marshall was in his room in the hotel. Then who on earth was there to see him except possibly Miss Darnley.’

‘Where was Miss Darnley?’

‘Sitting up on the cutting at the top of the cliff. Sunny Ledge it’s called. We saw her there, Mr Redfern and I, when we were rowing round the island.’

Colonel Weston said:

‘You may be right, Miss Brewster.’

Emily Brewster said positively:

‘I’m sure I’m right. When a woman’s neither more nor less than a nasty mess, then she herself will provide the best possible clue. Don’t you agree with me, M. Poirot?’

Hercule Poirot looked up. His eyes met her confident grey ones. He said:

‘Oh, yes-I agree with that which you have just this minute said. Arlena Marshall herself is the best, the only clue, to her own death.’

Miss Brewster said sharply:

‘Well, then!’ 

She stood there, an erect sturdy figure, her cool self-confident glance going from one man to the other.

Colonel Weston said:

‘You may be sure, Miss Brewster, that any clue there may be in Mrs Marshall’s past life will not be overlooked.’

Emily Brewster went out.

VI

Inspector Colgate shifted his position at the table. He said in a thoughtful voice:

‘She’s a determined one, she is. And she’d got her knife into the dead lady, proper, she had.’

He stopped a minute and said reflectively:

‘It’s a pity in a way that she’s got a cast-iron alibi for the whole morning. Did you notice her hands, sir? As big as a man’s. And she’s a hefty woman-as strong and stronger than many a man, I’d say…’