阳光下的罪恶35

VEmily 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 ofthat 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 from facts. Thatwoman was a bad lot through and through. You’ve only got to hunt round a bit in her unsavourypast.”

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 firstcousin married one of the Erskines. You’ve probably heard that that woman induced old SirRobert 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 asum like fifty thousand pounds shows just the kind of woman she was. I dare say I sound hard, butin my opinion the Arlena Stuarts of this world deserve very little sympathy. I know of somethingelse 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 withsome 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 ifshe’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 andChristine Redfern were down on Gull Cove out of the way. Captain Marshall was in his room inthe 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 herselfwill 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 thebest, 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 theother.

Colonel Weston said:

“You may be sure, Miss Brewster, that any clue there may be in Mrs. Marshall’s past life willnot be overlooked.”

Emily Brewster went out.

 

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