‘Perhaps. But you wanted to come here becauseshe was going to be here.’
‘She? Who is she?’
‘Mrs Marshall. You-you’re infatuated with her.’
‘For God’s sake, Christine, don’t make a fool of yourself. It’s not like you to be jealous.’
His bluster was a little uncertain. He exaggerated it.
She said:
‘We’ve been so happy.’
‘Happy? Of course we’ve been happy! Weare happy. But we shan’t go on being happy if I can’t even speak to another woman without you kicking up a row.’
‘It’s not like that.’
‘Yes, it is. In marriage one has got to have-well-friendships with other people. This suspicious attitude is all wrong. I-I can’t speak to a pretty woman without your jumping to the conclusion that I’m in love with her-’
He stopped. He shrugged his shoulders.
Christine Redfern said:
‘Youare in love with her…’
‘Oh, don’t be a fool, Christine! I’ve-I’ve barely spoken to her.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘Don’t for goodness’ sake get into the habit of being jealous of every pretty woman we come across.’
Christine Redfern said:
‘She’s not just any pretty woman! She’s-she’sdifferent! She’s a bad lot! Yes, she is. She’ll do you harm, Patrick, please,give it up. Let’s go away from here.’
Patrick Redfern stuck out his chin mutinously. He looked, somehow, very young as he said defiantly:
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Christine. And-and don’t let’s quarrel about it.’
‘I don’t want to quarrel.’
‘Then behave like a reasonable human being. Come on, let’s go back to the hotel.’
He got up. There was a pause, then Christine Redfern got up too.
She said:
‘Very well…’
In the recess adjoining, on the seat there, Hercule Poirot sat and shook his head sorrowfully.
Some people might have scrupulously removed themselves from earshot of a private conversation. But not Hercule Poirot. He had no scruples of that kind.
‘Besides,’ as he explained to his friend Hastings at a later date, ‘it was a question of murder.’
Hastings said, staring:
‘But the murder hadn’t happened, then.’
Hercule Poirot sighed. He said:
‘But already,mon cher, it was very clearly indicated.’
‘Then why didn’t you stop it?’
And Hercule Poirot, with a sigh, said as he had said once before in Egypt, that if a person is determined to commit murder it is not easy to prevent them. He does not blame himself for what happened. It was, according to him, inevitable.
Chapter 3
I
Rosamund Darnley and Kenneth Marshall sat on the short springy turf of the cliff overlooking Gull Cove. This was on the east side of the island. People came here in the morning sometimes to bathe when they wanted to be peaceful.
Rosamund said:
‘It’s nice to get away from people.’
Marshall murmured inaudibly:
‘M-m, yes.’
He rolled over, sniffing at the short turf.
‘Smells good. Remember the downs at Shipley?’
‘Rather.’
‘Pretty good, those days.’
‘Yes.’
‘You’ve not changed much, Rosamund.’
‘Yes, I have. I’ve changed enormously.’
His face altered. It hardened-the happy expression died out of it. He took a pipe from his pocket and began filling it.
Rosamund said:
‘I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.’
He said quietly:
‘You haven’t offended me.’
‘Well then, why don’t you?’
‘You don’t understand, my dear girl.’
‘Are you-so frightfully fond of her?’
‘It’s not just a question of that. You see, I married her.’
‘I know. But she’s-pretty notorious.’
He considered that for a moment, ramming in the tobacco carefully.
‘Is she? I suppose she is.’
‘Youcould divorce her, Ken.’
‘My dear girl, you’ve got no business to say a thing like that. Just because men lose their heads about her a bit isn’t to say that she loses hers.’
‘I dare say I could.’
‘You ought to, Ken. Really, I mean it. There’s the child.’
‘Linda?’
‘Yes, Linda.’
‘What’s Linda to do with it?’
‘Arlena’s not good for Linda. She isn’t really. Linda, I think,feels things a good deal.’
Kenneth Marshall applied a match to his pipe. Between puffs he said:
‘Yes-there’s something in that. I suppose Arlena and Linda aren’t very good for each other. Not the right thing for a girl perhaps. It’s a bit worrying.’
Rosamund said:
‘I like Linda-very much. There’s something-fine about her.’
Kenneth said:
‘She’s like her mother. She takes things hard like Ruth did.’
Rosamund said:
‘Then don’t you think-really-that you ought to get rid of Arlena?’
‘Fix up a divorce?’
‘Yes. People are doing that all the time.’
Rosamund leaned forward. She said in a low voice:
‘So it’s like that with you? “Till death do us part”?’
Kenneth Marshall nodded his head.
He said:
‘That’s just it.’
Rosamund said:
‘I see.’
II
Mr Horace Blatt, returning to Leathercombe Bay down a narrow twisting lane, nearly ran down Mrs Redfern at a corner.
III
Linda Marshall was in the small shop which catered for the wants of visitors to Leathercombe Bay. One side of it was devoted to shelves on which were books which could be borrowed for the sum of twopence. The newest of them was ten years old, some were twenty years old and others older still.
Linda took first one and then another doubtfully from the shelf and glanced into it. She decided that she couldn’t possibly readThe Four Feathers orVice Versa. She took out a small squat volume in brown calf.
The time passed…
With a start Linda shoved the book back in the shelf as Christine Redfern’s voice said:
‘What are you reading, Linda?’
Linda said hurriedly:
‘Nothing. I’m looking for a book.’
IV
Mr Blatt said:
‘So you’re the famous sleuth, eh?’
They were in the cocktail bar, a favourite haunt of Mr Blatt’s.
Hercule Poirot acknowledged the remark with his usual lack of modesty.
Mr Blatt went on.
‘And what are you doing down here-on a job?’