Evil Under the Sun - Agatha Christie [35]
Inspector Colgate coughed. He said:
“Excuse me, sir, I’ve been thinking about that alibi. It’s possible, you know, if he’d thought this thing out, that those letters were got ready beforehand.”
Weston said:
“That’s a good idea. We must look into—”
He broke off as Christine Redfern entered the room.
She was, as always, calm and a little precise in manner. She was wearing a white tennis frock and a pale blue pullover. It accentuated her fair, rather anaemic prettiness. Yet, Hercule Poirot thought to himself, it was neither a silly face nor a weak one. It had plenty of resolution, courage and good sense. He nodded appreciatively.
Colonel Weston thought:
“Nice little woman. Bit wishy-washy, perhaps. A lot too good for that philandering young ass of a husband of hers. Oh well, the boy’s young. Women usually make a fool of you once!”
He said:
“Sit down, Mrs. Redfern. We’ve got to go through a certain amount of routine, you see. Asking everybody for an account of their movements this morning. Just for our records.”
Christine Redfern nodded.
She said in her quiet precise voice.
“Oh yes, I quite understand. Where do you want me to begin?”
Hercule Poirot said:
“As early as possible, Madame. What did you do when you first got up this morning?”
Christine said:
“Let me see. On my way down to breakfast I went into Linda Marshall’s room and fixed up with her to go to Gull Cove this morning. We agreed to meet in the lounge at half past ten.”
Poirot asked:
“You did not bathe before breakfast, Madame?”
“No. I very seldom do.” She smiled. “I like the sea well warmed before I get into it. I’m rather a chilly person.”
“But your husband bathes then?”
“Oh, yes. Nearly always.”
“And Mrs. Marshall, she also?”
A change came over Christine’s voice. It became cold and almost acrid.
She said:
“Oh no, Mrs. Marshall was the sort of person who never made an appearance before the middle of the morning.”
With an air of confusion, Hercule Poirot said:
“Pardon, Madame, I interrupted you. You were saying that you went to Miss Linda Marshall’s room. What time was that?”
“Let me see—half past eight—no, a little later.”
“And was Miss Marshall up then?”
“Oh yes, she had been out.”
“Out?”
“Yes, she said she’d been bathing.”
There was a faint—a very faint note of embarrassment in Christine’s voice. It puzzled Hercule Poirot.
Weston said:
“And then?”
“Then I went down to breakfast.”
“And after breakfast?”
“I went upstairs, collected my sketching box and sketching book and we started out.”
“You and Miss Linda Marshall?”
“Yes.”
“What time was that?”
“I think it was just on half past ten.”
“And what did you do?”
“We went to Gull Cove. You know, the cove on the east side of the island. We settled ourselves there. I did a sketch and Linda sunbathed.”
“What time did you leave the cove?”
“At a quarter to twelve. I was playing tennis at twelve and had to change.”
“You had your watch with you?”
“No, as a matter of fact I hadn’t. I asked Linda the time.”
“I see. And then?”
“I packed up my sketching things and went back to the hotel.”
Poirot said:
“And Mademoiselle Linda?”
“Linda?” Oh, Linda went into the sea.”
Poirot said:
“Were you far from the sea where you were sitting?”
“Well, we were well above high-water mark. Just under the cliff—so that I could be a little in the shade and Linda in the sun.”
Poirot said:
“Did Linda Marshall actually enter the sea before you left the beach?”
Christine frowned a little in the effort to remember. She said:
“Let me see. She ran down the beach—I fastened my box—Yes, I heard her splashing in the waves as I was on the path up the cliff.”
“You are sure of that, Madame? That she really entered the sea?”
“Oh yes.”
She stared at him in surprise.
Colonel Weston also stared at him.
Then he said:
“Go on, Mrs. Redfern.”
“I went back to the hotel, changed, and went to the tennis courts where I met the others.”
“Who were?”
“Captain Marshall, Mr. Gardener and Miss Darnley. We played two sets. We were just going in again when the news came