IV

“And that puts the lid on it finally,” said Inspector Colgate. “The chambermaid heard him typingup till five minutes to eleven. Miss Darnley saw him at twenty minutes past, and the woman wasdead at a quarter to twelve. He says he spent that hour typing in his room, and it seems quite clearthat he was typing in his room. That washes Captain Marshall right out.”

He stopped, then looking at Poirot with some curiosity, he asked:

“M. Poirot’s looking very serious over something.”

Poirot said thoughtfully:

“I was wondering why Miss Darnley suddenly volunteered this extra evidence.”

Inspector Colgate cocked his head alertly.

“Think there’s something fishy about it? That it isn’t just a question of ‘forgetting?’”

He considered for a minute or two, then he said slowly:

“Look here, sir, let’s look at it this way. Supposing Miss Darnley wasn’t on Sunny Ledge thismorning as she says. That story’s a lie. Now suppose that after telling us her story, she finds thatsomebody saw her somewhere else or alternatively that someone went to the Ledge and didn’t findher there. Then she thinks up this story quick and comes and tells it to us to account for herabsence. You’ll notice that she was careful to say Captain Marshall didn’t see her when she lookedinto his room.”

Poirot murmured:

“Yes, I noticed that.”

Weston said incredulously:

“Are you suggesting that Miss Darnley’s mixed up in this? Nonsense, seems absurd to me. Whyshould she be?”

Inspector Colgate coughed.

He said:

“You’ll remember what the American lady, Mrs. Gardener, said. She sort of hinted that MissDarnley was sweet on Captain Marshall. There’d be a motive there, sir.”

Weston said impatiently:

“Arlena Marshall wasn’t killed by a woman. It’s a man we’ve got to look for. We’ve got to stickto the men in the case.”

Inspector Colgate sighed. He said:

“Yes, that’s true, sir. We always come back to that, don’t we?”

Weston went on:

“Better put a constable on to timing one or two things. From the hotel across the island to thetop of the ladder. Let him do it running and walking. Same thing with the ladder itself. Andsomebody had better check the time it takes to go on a float from the bathing beach to the cove.”

Inspector Colgate nodded.

“I’ll attend to all that, sir,” he said confidently.

The Chief Constable said:

“Think I’ll go along to the cove now. See if Phillips has found anything. Then there’s thatPixy’s Cave we’ve been hearing about. Ought to see if there are any traces of a man waiting inthere. Eh, Poirot? What do you think?”

“By all means. It is a possibility.”

Weston said:

“If somebody from outside had nipped over to the island that would be a good hiding place—ifhe knew about it. I suppose the locals know?”

Colgate said:

“Don’t believe the younger generation would. You see, ever since this hotel was started thecoves have been private property. Fishermen don’t go there, or picnic parties. And the hotelpeople aren’t local. Mrs. Castle’s a Londoner.”

Weston said:

“We might take Redfern with us. He told us about it. What about you, M. Poirot?”

Hercule Poirot hesitated. He said, his foreign intonation very pronounced:

“Me, I am like Miss Brewster and Mrs. Redfern, I do not like to descend perpendicular ladders.”

Weston said: “You can go round by boat.”

Again Hercule Poirot sighed.

“My stomach, it is not happy on the sea.”

“Nonsense, man, it’s a beautiful day. Calm as a mill pond. You can’t let us down, you know.”

Hercule Poirot hardly looked like responding to this British adjuration. But at that moment,Mrs. Castle poked her ladylike face and elaborate coiffure round the door.

“Ay’m sure ay hope ay am not intruding,” she said. “But Mr. Lane, the clergyman, you know,has just returned. Ay thought you might like to know.”

“Ah yes, thanks, Mrs. Castle. We’ll see him right away.”

Mrs. Castle came a little farther into the room. She said:

“Ay don’t know if it is worth mentioning, but ay have heard that the smallest incident shouldnot be ignored—”

“Yes, yes?” said Weston impatiently.

“It is only that there was a lady and gentleman here about one o’clock. Came over from themainland. For luncheon. They were informed that there had been an accident and that under thecircumstances no luncheons could be served.”

“Any idea who they were?”

“Ay couldn’t say at all. Naturally no name was given. They expressed disappointment and acertain amount of curiosity as to the nature of the accident. Ay couldn’t tell them anything, ofcourse. Ay should say, myself, they were summer visitors of the better class.”

Weston said brusquely:

“Ah well, thank you for telling us. Probably not important but quite right—er—to remembereverything.”

“Naturally,” said Mrs. Castle, “ay wish to do my Duty!”

“Quite, quite. Ask Mr. Lane to come here.”