阳光下的罪恶22

II

“Upon my soul!” said Colonel Weston. “This is a surprise finding you here!”

Hercule Poirot replied to the Chief Constable’s greeting in a suitable manner. He murmured:

“Ah, yes, many years have passed since that affair at St. Loo.”

“I haven’t forgotten it, though,” said Weston. “Biggest surprise of my life. The thing I’ve nevergot over, though, is the way you got round me about that funeral business. Absolutely unorthodox,the whole thing. Fantastic!”

“Tout de même, mon Colonel,” said Poirot. “It produced the goods, did it not?”

“Er—well, possibly. I dare say we should have got there by more orthodox methods.”

“It is possible,” agreed Poirot diplomatically.

“And here you are in the thick of another murder,” said the Chief Constable. “Any ideas aboutthis one?”

Poirot said slowly:

“Nothing definite—but it is interesting.”

“Going to give us a hand?”

“You would permit it, yes?”

“My dear fellow, delighted to have you. Don’t know enough yet to decide whether it’s a casefor Scotland Yard or not. Offhand it looks as though our murderer must be pretty well within alimited radius. On the other hand, all these people are strangers down here. To find out about themand their motives you’ve got to go to London.”

Poirot said:

“Yes, that is true.”

“First of all,” said Weston, “we’ve got to find out who last saw the dead woman alive.

Chambermaid took her her breakfast at nine. Girl in the bureau downstairs saw her pass throughthe lounge and go out about ten.”

“My friend,” said Poirot, “I suspect that I am the man you want.”

“You saw her this morning? What time?”

“At five minutes past ten. I assisted her to launch her float from the bathing beach.”

“And she went off on it?”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see which direction she took?”

“She paddled round that point there to the right.”

“In the direction of Pixy’s Cove, that is?”

“Yes.”

“And the time then was—?”

“I should say she actually left the beach at a quarter past ten.”

Weston considered.

“That fits in well enough. How long should you say that it would take her to paddle round to theCove?”

“Ah me, I am not an expert. I do not go in boats or expose myself on floats. Perhaps half anhour?”

“That’s about what I think,” said the Colonel. “She wouldn’t be hurrying, I presume. Well, ifshe arrived there at a quarter to eleven, that fits in well enough.”

“At what time does your doctor suggest she died?”

“Oh, Neasden doesn’t commit himself. He’s a cautious chap. A quarter to eleven is his earliestoutside limit.”

Poirot nodded. He said:

“There is one other point that I must mention. As she left, Mrs. Marshall asked me not to say Ihad seen her.”

Weston stared.

He said:

“H’m, that’s rather suggestive, isn’t it?”

Poirot murmured.

“Yes. I thought so myself.”

Weston tugged at his moustache. He said:

“Look here, Poirot. You’re a man of the world. What sort of a woman was Mrs. Marshall?”

A faint smile came to Poirot’s lips.

He asked:

“Have you not already heard?”

The Chief Constable said dryly:

“I know what the women say of her. They would. How much truth is there in it? Was shehaving an affair with this fellow Redfern?”

“I should say undoubtedly yes.”

“He followed her down here, eh?”

“There is reason to suppose so.”

“And the husband? Did he know about it? What did he feel?”

Poirot said slowly:

“It is not easy to know what Captain Marshall feels or thinks. He is a man who does not displayhis emotions.”

Weston said sharply:

“But he might have ’em, all the same.”

Poirot nodded. He said:

“Oh yes, he might have them.”

 

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