Free Evil Under the Sun by Agatha Christie Page A

of her. They would. How much truth is there in it? Was she having an affair with this fellow Redfern?”
    â€œI should say undoubtedly yes. ”
    â€œHe followed her down here, eh?”
    â€œThere is reason to suppose so.”
    â€œAnd the husband? Did he know about it? What did he feel?”
    Poirot said slowly:
    â€œIt is not easy to know what Captain Marshall feels or thinks. He is a man who does not display his emotions.”
    Weston said sharply:
    â€œBut he might have ’em, all the same.”
    Poirot nodded. He said:
    â€œOh yes, he might have them.”
    III
    The Chief Constable was being as tactful as it was in his nature to be with Mrs. Castle.
    Mrs. Castle was the owner and proprietress of the Jolly Roger Hotel. She was a woman of forty odd with a large bust, rather violent henna red hair, and an almost offensively refined manner of speech.
    She was saying:
    â€œThat such a thing should happen in my hotel! Ay am sure it has always been the quayettest place imaginable! The people who come here are such naice people. No rowdiness —if you know what ay mean. Not like the big hotels in St. Loo.”
    â€œQuite so, Mrs. Castle,” said Colonel Weston. “But accidents happen in the best regulated—er households.”
    â€œAy’m sure Inspector Colgate will bear me out,” said Mrs.Castle, sending an appealing glance towards the Inspector who was sitting looking very official. “As to the laycensing laws, ay am most particular. There has never been any irregularity!”
    â€œQuite, quite,” said Weston. “We’re not blaming you in any way, Mrs. Castle.”
    â€œBut it does so reflect upon an establishment,” said Mrs. Castle, her large bust heaving. “When ay think of the noisy gaping crowds. Of course no one but hotel guests are allowed upon the island—but all the same they will no doubt come and point from the shore.”
    She shuddered.
    Inspector Colgate saw his chance to turn the conversation to good account.
    He said:
    â€œIn regard to that point you’ve just raised. Access to the island. How do you keep people off?”
    â€œAy am most particular about it.”
    â€œYes, but what measures do you take? What keeps ’em off? Holiday crowds in summer time swarm everywhere like flies.”
    Mrs. Castle shrugged slightly again.
    She said:
    â€œThat is the fault of the charabancs. Ay have seen eighteen at one time parked by the quay at Leathercombe Bay. Eighteen!”
    â€œJust so. How do you stop them coming here?”
    â€œThere are notices. And then, of course, at high tide, we are cut off.”
    â€œYes, but at low tide?”
    Mrs. Castle explained. At the island end of the causeway there was a gate. This said “Jolly Roger Hotel. Private. No entry exceptto Hotel.” The rocks rose sheer out of the sea on either side there and could not be climbed.
    â€œAnyone could take a boat, though, I suppose, and row round and land on one of the coves? You couldn’t stop them doing that. There’s a right of access to the foreshore. You can’t stop people being on the beach between low and high watermark.”
    But this, it seemed, very seldom happened. Boats could be obtained at Leathercombe Bay harbour, but from there it was a long row to the island, and there was also a strong current just outside Leathercombe Bay harbour.
    There were notices, too, on both Gull Cove and Pixy Cove by the ladder. She added that George or William were always on the look out at the bathing beach proper which was the nearest to the mainland.
    â€œWho are George and William?”
    â€œGeorge attends to the bathing beach. He sees to the costumes and the floats. William is the gardener. He keeps the paths and marks the tennis courts and all that.”
    Colonel Weston said impatiently:
    â€œWell, that seems clear enough. That’s not to say that nobody could have come from outside, but anyone who did