{"id":2355,"date":"2026-01-03T22:25:01","date_gmt":"2026-01-03T22:25:01","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/evil-under-the-sun-christie-agatha\/"},"modified":"2026-01-03T22:25:01","modified_gmt":"2026-01-03T22:25:01","slug":"evil-under-the-sun-christie-agatha","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/evil-under-the-sun-christie-agatha\/","title":{"rendered":"Evil Under the Sun – Christie, Agatha"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Book Preview<\/h3>\n
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One<\/span><\/span><\/h2>\n<\/div>\n
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W<\/span><\/span>hen Captain Roger Angmering built himself a house in the year 1782 on the island off Leathercombe Bay, it was thought the height of eccentricity on his part. A man of good family such as he was should have had a decorous mansion set in wide meadows with, perhaps, a running stream and good pasture.<\/p>\n

But Captain Roger Angmering had only one great love, the sea. So he built his house\u2014a sturdy house too, as it needed to be, on the little windswept gull-haunted promontory\u2014cut off from land at each high tide.<\/p>\n

He did not marry, the sea was his first and last spouse, and at his death the house and island went to a distant cousin. That cousin and his descendants thought little of the bequest. Their own acres dwindled, and their heirs grew steadily poorer.<\/p>\n

In 1922 when the great cult of the Seaside for Holidays was finally established and the coast of Devon and Cornwall was no longer thought too hot in the summer, Arthur Angmering found his vast inconvenient late Georgian house unsaleable, but he got a good price for the odd bit of property acquired by the seafaring Captain Roger.<\/p>\n

The sturdy house was added to and embellished. A concrete causeway was laid down from the mainland to the island. \u201cWalks\u201d and \u201cNooks\u201d were cut and devised all round the island. There were two tennis courts, sun terraces leading down to a little bay embellished with rafts and diving boards. The Jolly Roger Hotel, Smugglers\u2019 Island, Leathercombe Bay, came triumphantly into being. And from June till September (with a short season at Easter) the Jolly Roger Hotel was usually packed to the attics. It was enlarged and improved in 1934 by the addition of a cocktail bar, a bigger dining room and some extra bathrooms. The prices went up.<\/p>\n

People said:<\/p>\n

\u201cEver been to Leathercombe Bay? Awfully jolly hotel there, on a sort of island. Very comfortable and no trippers or charabancs. Good cooking and all that. You ought to go.\u201d<\/p>\n

And people did go.<\/p>\n

II<\/span><\/p>\n

There was one very important person (in his own estimation at least) staying at the Jolly Roger. Hercule Poirot, resplendent in a white duck suit, with a panama hat tilted over his eyes, his moustaches magnificently befurled, lay back in an improved type of deck chair and surveyed the bathing beach. A series of terraces led down to it from the hotel. On the beach itself were floats, lilos, rubber and canvas boats, balls and rubber toys. There was a long springboard and three rafts at varying distances from the shore.<\/p>\n

Of the bathers, some were in the sea, some were lying stretched out in the sun, and some were anointing themselves carefully with oil.<\/p>\n

On the terrace immediately above, the nonbathers sat and commented on the weather, the scene in front of them, the news in the morning papers and any other subject that appealed to them.<\/p>\n

On Poirot\u2019s left a ceaseless flow of conversation poured in a gentle monotone from the lips of Mrs. Gardener while at the same time her needles clacked as she knitted vigorously. Beyond her, her husband, Odell C. Gardener, lay in a hammock chair, his hat tilted forward over his nose, and occasionally uttered a brief statement when called upon to do so.<\/p>\n

On Poirot\u2019s right, Miss Brewster, a tough athletic woman with grizzled hair and a pleasant weather-beaten face, made gruff comments. The result sounded rather like a sheepdog whose short stentorian barks interrupted the ceaseless yapping of a Pomeranian.<\/p>\n

Mrs. Gardener was saying:<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd so I said to Mr. Gardener, why, I said, sightseeing is all very well, and I do like to do a place thoroughly. But, after all, I said, we\u2019ve done England pretty well and all I want now is to get to some quiet spot by the seaside and just relax. That\u2019s what I said, wasn\u2019t it, Odell? Just relax.<\/span> I feel I must relax, I said. That\u2019s so, isn\u2019t it, Odell?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Gardener, from behind his hat, murmured:<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, darling.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Gardener pursued the theme.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd so, when I mentioned it to Mr. Kelso, at Cook\u2019s\u2014He\u2019s arranged all our itinerary for us and been most<\/span> helpful in every way. I don\u2019t really know what we\u2019d have done without him!\u2014well, as I say, when I mentioned it to him, Mr. Kelso said that we couldn\u2019t do better than come here. A most picturesque spot, he said, quite out of the world, and at the same time very comfortable and most exclusive in every way. And, of course, Mr. Gardener, he chipped in there and said what about the sanitary arrangements? Because, if you\u2019ll believe me, M. Poirot, a sister of Mr. Gardener\u2019s went to stay at a guesthouse once, very exclusive they said it was, and in the heart of the moors, but would you believe me, nothing but an earth closet!<\/span> So naturally that made Mr. Gardener suspicious of these out-of-the-world places, didn\u2019t it, Odell?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, yes, darling,\u201d said Gardener.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut Mr. Kelso reassured us at once. The sanitation, he said, was absolutely the latest word, and the cooking was excellent. And I\u2019m sure that\u2019s so. And what I like about it is, it\u2019s intime,<\/span> if you know what I mean. Being a small place we all talk to each other and everybody knows everybody. If there is a fault about the British it is that they\u2019re inclined to be a bit standoffish until they\u2019ve known you a couple of years. After that nobody could be nicer. Mr. Kelso said that interesting people came here, and I see he was right. There\u2019s you, M. Poirot and Miss Darnley. Oh! I was just tickled to death when I found out who you were, wasn\u2019t I, Odell?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou were, darling.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHa!\u201d said Miss Brewster, breaking in explosively. \u201cWhat a thrill, eh, M. Poirot?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hercule Poirot raised his hands in deprecation. But it was no more than a polite gesture. Mrs. Gardener flowed smoothly on.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou see, M. Poirot, I\u2019d heard a lot about you from Cornelia Robson who was at Badenhof. Mr. Gardener and I were at Badenhof in May. And of course Cornelia told us all about that business in Egypt when Linnet Ridgeway was killed. She said you were wonderful and I\u2019ve always been simply crazy to meet you, haven\u2019t I, Odell?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, darling.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd then Miss Darnley, too. I get a lot of my things at Rose Mond\u2019s and of course she is<\/span> Rose Mond, isn\u2019t she? I think her clothes are ever so clever. Such a marvellous line. That dress I had on last night was one of hers. She\u2019s just a lovely woman in every way, I think.\u201d<\/p>\n

From beyond Miss Brewster, Major Barry, who had been sitting with protuberant eyes glued to the bathers, grunted out:<\/p>\n

\u201cDistinguished lookin\u2019 gal!\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Gardener clacked her needles.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve just got to confess one thing, M. Poirot. It gave me a kind of a turn<\/span> meeting you here\u2014not that I wasn\u2019t just thrilled to meet you, because I was. Mr. Gardener knows that. But it just came to me that you might be here\u2014well, professionally.<\/span> You know what I mean? Well, I\u2019m just terribly sensitive, as Mr. Gardener will tell you, and I just couldn\u2019t bear it if I was to be mixed up in crime of any kind. You see\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Gardener cleared his throat. He said:<\/p>\n

\u201cYou see, M. Poirot, Mrs. Gardener is very sensitive.\u201d<\/p>\n

The hands of Hercule Poirot shot into the air.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut let me assure you, Madame, that I am here simply in the same way that you are here yourselves\u2014to enjoy myself\u2014to spend the holiday. I do not think of crime even.\u201d<\/p>\n

Miss Brewster said again, giving her short gruff bark:<\/p>\n

\u201cNo bodies on Smugglers\u2019 Island.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hercule Poirot said:<\/p>\n

\u201cAh! but that, it is not strictly true.\u201d He pointed downward. \u201cRegard them there, lying out in rows. What are they? They are not men and women. There is nothing personal about them. They are just\u2014bodies!\u201d<\/p>\n

Major Barry said appreciatively:<\/p>\n

\u201cGood-looking fillies, some of \u2019em. Bit on the thin side, perhaps.\u201d<\/p>\n

Poirot cried:<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, but what appeal is there? What mystery? I, I am old, of the old school, When I was young, one saw barely the ankle. The glimpse of a foamy petticoat, how alluring! The gentle swelling of the calf\u2014a knee\u2014a beribboned garter\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNaughty, naughty!\u201d said Major Barry hoarsely.<\/p>\n

\u201cMuch more sensible\u2014the things we wear nowadays,\u201d said Miss Brewster.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, yes, M. Poirot,\u201d said Mrs. Gardener. \u201cI do think, you know, that our girls and boys nowadays lead a much more natural healthy life. They just romp about together and they\u2014well, they\u2014\u201d Mrs. Gardener blushed slightly for she had a nice mind\u2014\u201cthey think nothing of<\/span> it, if you know what I mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do know,\u201d said Hercule Poirot. \u201cIt is deplorable!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDeplorable?\u201d squeaked Mrs. Gardener.<\/p>\n

\u201cTo remove all the romance\u2014all the mystery! Today everything is standardized!<\/span>\u201d He waved a hand towards the recumbent figures. \u201cThat reminds me very much of the Morgue in Paris.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cM. Poirot!\u201d Mrs. Gardener was scandalized.<\/p>\n

\u201cBodies\u2014arranged on slabs\u2014like butcher\u2019s meat!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut M. Poirot, isn\u2019t that too far-fetched for words?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hercule Poirot admitted:<\/p>\n

\u201cIt may be, yes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll the same,\u201d Mrs. Gardener knitted with energy, \u201cI\u2019m inclined to agree with you on one point. These girls that lie out like that in the sun will grow hair on their legs and arms. I\u2019ve said so to Irene\u2014that\u2019s my daughter, M. Poirot. Irene, I said to her, if you lie out like that in the sun, you\u2019ll have hair all over you, hair on your arms and hair on your legs and hair on your bosom, and what will you look like then? I said to her. Didn\u2019t I, Odell?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, darling,\u201d said Mr. Gardener.<\/p>\n

Everyone was silent, perhaps making a mental picture of Irene when the worst had happened.<\/p>\n

Mrs. Gardener rolled up her knitting and said:<\/p>\n

\u201cI wonder now\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Gardener said:<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, darling?\u201d<\/p>\n

He struggled out of the hammock chair and took Mrs. Gardener\u2019s knitting and her book. He asked:<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about joining us for a drink, Miss Brewster?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot just now, thanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Gardeners went up to the hotel.<\/p>\n

Miss Brewster said:<\/p>\n

\u201cAmerican husbands are wonderful!\u201d<\/p>\n

III<\/span><\/p>\n

Mrs. Gardener\u2019s place was taken by the Reverend Stephen Lane.<\/p>\n

Mr. Lane was a tall vigorous clergyman of fifty odd. His face was tanned and his dark grey flannel trousers were holidayfied and disreputable.<\/p>\n

He said with enthusiasm:<\/p>\n

\u201cMarvellous country! I\u2019ve been from Leathercombe Bay to Harford and back over the cliffs.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWarm work walking today,\u201d said Major Barry who never walked.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood exercise,\u201d said Miss Brewster. \u201cI haven\u2019t been for my row yet. Nothing like rowing for your stomach muscles.\u201d<\/p>\n

The eyes of Hercule Poirot dropped somewhat ruefully to a certain protuberance in his middle.<\/p>\n

Miss Brewster, noting the glance, said kindly:<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d soon get that off, M. Poirot, if you took a rowing boat out every day.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMerci, Mademoiselle.<\/span> I detest boats!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou mean small boats?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBoats of all sizes!\u201d He closed his eyes and shuddered. \u201cThe movement of the sea, it is not pleasant.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBless the man, the sea is as calm as a mill pond today.\u201d<\/p>\n

Poirot replied with conviction:<\/p>\n

\u201cThere is no such thing as a really calm sea. Always, always, there is motion.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you ask me,\u201d said Major Barry, \u201cseasickness is nine-tenths nerves.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere,\u201d said the clergyman, smiling a little, \u201cspeaks the good sailor\u2014eh, Major?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOnly been ill once\u2014and that was crossing the Channel! Don\u2019t think about it, that\u2019s my motto.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSeasickness is really a very odd thing,\u201d mused Miss Brewster. \u201cWhy should some people be subject to it and not others? It seems so unfair. And nothing to do with one\u2019s ordinary health. Quite sickly people are good sailors. Someone told me once it was something to do with one\u2019s spine. Then there\u2019s the way some people can\u2019t stand heights. I\u2019m not very good myself, but Mrs. Redfern is far worse. The other day, on the cliff path to Harford, she turned quite giddy and simply clung to me. She told me she once got stuck halfway down that outside staircase on Milan Cathedral. She\u2019d gone up without thinking but coming down did for her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019d better not go down the ladder to Pixy Cove, then,\u201d observed Lane.<\/p>\n

Miss Brewster made a face.<\/p>\n

\u201cI funk that myself. It\u2019s all right for the young. The Cowan boys and the young Mastermans, they run up and down and enjoy it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lane said.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere comes Mrs. Redfern now, coming up from her bathe.\u201d<\/p>\n

Miss Brewster remarked:<\/p>\n

\u201cM. Poirot ought to approve of her. She\u2019s no sunbather.\u201d<\/p>\n

Young Mrs. Redfern had taken off her rubber cap and was shaking out her hair. She was an ash blonde and her skin was of that dead fairness that goes with that colouring. Her legs and arms were very white.<\/p>\n

With a hoarse chuckle, Major Barry said:<\/p>\n

\u201cLooks a bit uncooked among the others, doesn\u2019t she?\u201d<\/p>\n

Wrapping herself in a long bathrobe Christine Redfern came up the beach and mounted the steps towards them.<\/p>\n

She had a fair serious face, pretty in a negative way and small dainty hands and feet.<\/p>\n

She smiled at them and dropped down beside them, tucking her bath wrap round her.<\/p>\n

Miss Brewster said:<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have earned M. Poirot\u2019s good opinion. He doesn\u2019t like the suntanning crowd. Says they\u2019re like joints of butcher\u2019s meat, or words to that effect.\u201d<\/p>\n

Christine Redfern smiled ruefully. She said:<\/p>\n

\u201cI wish I could<\/span> sunbathe! But I don\u2019t go brown. I only blister and get the most frightful freckles all over my arms.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBetter than getting hair all over them like Mrs. Gardener\u2019s Irene,\u201d said Miss Brewster. In answer to Christine\u2019s inquiring glance she went on: \u201cMrs. Gardener\u2019s been in grand form this morning. Absolutely nonstop. \u2018Isn\u2019t that so, Odell?\u2019 \u2018Yes, darling.\u2019\u201d She paused and then said: \u201cI wish, though, M. Poirot, that you\u2019d played up to her a bit. Why didn\u2019t you? Why didn\u2019t you tell her that you were down here investigating a particularly gruesome murder, and that the murderer, a homicidal maniac, was certainly to be found among the guests of the hotel?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hercule Poirot sighed. He said:<\/p>\n

\u201cI very much fear she would have believed me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Major Barry gave a wheezy chuckle. He said:<\/p>\n

\u201cShe certainly would.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emily Brewster said:<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I don\u2019t believe even Mrs. Gardener would have believed in a crime staged here. This isn\u2019t the sort of place you\u2019d get a body!\u201d<\/p>\n

Hercule Poirot stirred a little in his chair. He protested. He said:<\/p>\n

\u201cBut why not, Mademoiselle? Why should there not be what you call a \u2018body\u2019 here on Smugglers\u2019 Island?\u201d<\/p>\n

Emily Brewster said:<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know. I suppose some places are<\/span> more unlikely than others. This isn\u2019t the kind of spot\u2014\u201d She broke off, finding it difficult to explain her meaning.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt is romantic, yes,\u201d agreed Hercule Poirot. \u201cIt is peaceful. The sun shines. The sea is blue. But you forget, Miss Brewster, there is evil everywhere under the sun.\u201d<\/p>\n

The clergyman stirred in his chair. He leaned forward. His intensely blue eyes lighted up.<\/p>\n

Miss Brewster shrugged her shoulders.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh! of course I realize that, but all the same\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut all the same this still seems to you an unlikely setting for crime? You forget one thing, Mademoiselle.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuman nature, I suppose?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat, yes. That, always. But that was not what I was going to say. I was going to point out to you that here everyone is on holiday.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emily Brewster turned a puzzled face to him.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hercule Poirot beamed kindly at her. He made dabs in the air with an emphatic forefinger.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet us say, you have an enemy. If you seek him out in his flat, in his office, in the street\u2014eh bien,<\/span> you must have a reason<\/span>\u2014you must account for yourself. But here at the seaside it is necessary for no one to account for himself. You are at Leathercombe Bay, why? Parbleu!<\/span> it is August\u2014one goes to the seaside in August\u2014one is on one\u2019s holiday. It is quite natural, you see, for you to be here and for Mr. Lane to be here and for Major Barry to be here and for Mrs. Redfern and her husband to be here. Because it is the custom in England to go to the seaside in August.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d admitted Miss Brewster, \u201cthat\u2019s certainly a very ingenious idea. But what about the Gardeners? They\u2019re American.\u201d<\/p>\n

Poirot smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cEven Mrs. Gardener, as she told us, feels the need to relax.<\/span> Also, since she is \u2018doing\u2019 England, she must certainly spend a fortnight at the seaside\u2014as a good tourist, if nothing else. She enjoys watching people.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Redfern murmured:<\/p>\n

\u201cYou like watching the people too, I think?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMadame, I will confess it. I do.\u201d<\/p>\n

She said thoughtfully: \u201cYou see\u2014a good deal.\u201d<\/p>\n

IV<\/span><\/p>\n

There was a pause. Stephen Lane cleared his throat and said with a trace of self-consciousness.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was interested, M. Poirot, in something you said just now. You said that there was evil done everywhere under the sun. It was almost a quotation from Ecclesiastes.\u201d He paused and then quoted himself: \u201cYea, also the heart of the sons of men is full of evil, and madness is in their heart while they live.\u201d<\/span> His face lit up with an almost fanatical light. \u201cI was glad to hear you say that. Nowadays, no one believes in evil. It is considered, at most, a mere negation of good. Evil, people say, is done by those who know no better\u2014who are undeveloped\u2014who are to be pitied rather than blamed. But M. Poirot, evil is real!<\/span> It is a fact!<\/span> I believe in Evil like I believe in Good. It exists! It is powerful! It walks the earth!\u201d<\/p>\n

He stopped. His breath was coming fast. He wiped his forehead with his handkerchief and looked suddenly apologetic.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry. I got carried away.\u201d<\/p>\n

Poirot said calmly:<\/p>\n

\u201cI understand your meaning. Up to a point I agree with you. Evil does walk the earth and can be recognized as such.\u201d<\/p>\n

Major Barry cleared his throat.<\/p>\n

\u201cTalking of that sort of thing, some of these fakir fellers in India\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Major Barry had been long enough at the Jolly Roger for everyone to be on their guard against his fatal tendency to embark on long Indian stories. Both Miss Brewster and Mrs. Redfern burst into speech.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s your husband swimming in now, isn\u2019t it, Mrs. Redfern? How magnificent his crawl stroke is. He\u2019s an awfully good swimmer.\u201d<\/p>\n

At the same moment Mrs. Redfern said:<\/p>\n

\u201cOh look! What a lovely little boat that is out there with the red sails. It\u2019s Mr. Blatt\u2019s, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n

The sailing boat with the red sails was just crossing the end of the bay.<\/p>\n

Major Barry grunted:<\/p>\n

\u201cFanciful idea, red sails,\u201d but the menace of the story about the fakir was avoided.<\/p>\n

Hercule Poirot looked with appreciation at the young man who had just swum to shore. Patrick Redfern was a good specimen of humanity. Lean, bronzed with broad shoulders and narrow thighs, there was about him a kind of infectious enjoyment and gaiety\u2014a native simplicity that endeared him to all women and most men.<\/p>\n

He stood there shaking the water from him and raising a hand in gay salutation to his wife.<\/p>\n

She waved back calling out:<\/p>\n

\u201cCome up here, Pat.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m coming.\u201d<\/p>\n

He went a little way along the beach to retrieve the towel he had left there.<\/p>\n

It was then that a woman came down past them from the hotel to the beach.<\/p>\n

Her arrival had all the importance of a stage entrance.<\/p>\n

Moreover, she walked as though she knew it. There was no self-consciousness apparent. It would seem that she was too used to the invariable effect her presence produced.<\/p>\n

She was tall and slender. She wore a simple backless white bathing dress and every inch of her exposed body was tanned a beautiful even shade of bronze. She was as perfect as a statue. Her hair was a rich flaming auburn curling richly and intimately into her neck. Her face had that slight hardness which is seen when thirty years have come and gone, but the whole effect of her was one of youth\u2014of superb and triumphant vitality. There was a Chinese immobility about her face, and an upward slant of the dark blue eyes. On her head she wore a fantastic Chinese hat of jade green cardboard.<\/p>\n

There was that about her which made every other woman on the beach seem faded and insignificant. And with equal inevitability, the eye of every male present was drawn and riveted on her.<\/p>\n

The eyes of Hercule Poirot opened, his moustache quivered appreciatively, Major Barry sat up and his protuberant eyes bulged even farther with excitement; on Poirot\u2019s left the Reverend Stephen Lane drew in his breath with a little hiss and his figure stiffened.<\/p>\n

Major Barry said in a hoarse whisper:<\/p>\n

\u201cArlena Stuart (that\u2019s who she was before she married Marshall)\u2014I saw her in Come and Go<\/span> before she left the stage. Something worth looking at, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n

Christine Redfern said slowly and her voice was cold: \u201cShe\u2019s handsome\u2014yes. I think\u2014she looks rather a beast!\u201d<\/p>\n

Emily Brewster said abruptly:<\/p>\n

\u201cYou talked about evil just now, M. Poirot. Now to my mind that woman\u2019s a personification of evil! She\u2019s a bad lot through and through. I happen to know a good deal about her.\u201d<\/p>\n

Major Barry said reminiscently:<\/p>\n

\u201cI remember a gal out in Simla. She<\/span> had red hair too. Wife of a subaltern. Did she set the place by the ears? I\u2019ll say she did! Men went mad about her! All the women, of course, would have liked to gouge her eyes out! She upset the apple cart in more homes than one.\u201d<\/p>\n

He chuckled reminiscently.<\/p>\n

\u201cHusband was a nice quiet fellow. Worshipped the ground she walked on. Never saw a thing\u2014or made out he didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

Stephen Lane said in a low voice full of intense feeling:<\/p>\n

\u201cSuch women are a menace\u2014a menace to\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

He stopped.<\/p>\n

Arlena Stuart had come to the water\u2019s edge. Two young men, little more than boys, had sprung up and come eagerly towards her. She stood smiling at them.<\/p>\n

Her eyes slid past them to where Patrick Redfern was coming along the beach.<\/p>\n

It was, Hercule Poirot thought, like watching the needle of a compass. Patrick Redfern was deflected, his feet changed their direction. The needle, do what it will, must obey the law of magnetism and turn to the north. Patrick Redfern\u2019s feet brought him to Arlena Stuart.<\/p>\n

She stood smiling at him. Then she moved slowly along the beach by the side of the waves. Patrick Redfern went with her. She stretched herself out by a rock. Redfern dropped to the shingle beside her.<\/p>\n

Abruptly, Christine Redfern got up and went into the hotel.<\/p>\n

V<\/span><\/p>\n

There was an uncomfortable little silence after she had left.<\/p>\n

Then Emily Brewster said:<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s rather too bad. She\u2019s a nice little thing. They\u2019ve only been married a year or two.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGal I was speaking of,\u201d said Major Barry, \u201cthe one in Simla. She upset a couple of really happy marriages. Seemed a pity, what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s a type of woman,\u201d said Miss Brewster, \u201cwho likes<\/span> smashing up homes.\u201d She added after a minute or two, \u201cPatrick Redfern\u2019s a fool!\u201d<\/p>\n

Hercule Poirot said nothing. He was gazing down the beach, but he was not looking at Patrick Redfern and Arlena Stuart.<\/p>\n

Miss Brewster said:<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019d better go and get hold of my boat.\u201d<\/p>\n

She left them.<\/p>\n

Major Barry turned his boiled gooseberry eyes with mild curiosity on Poirot.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, Poirot,\u201d he said. \u201cWhat are you thinking about? You\u2019ve not opened your mouth. What do you think of the siren? Pretty hot?\u201d<\/p>\n

Poirot said:<\/p>\n

\u201cC\u2019est possible.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNow then, you old dog. I know you Frenchmen!\u201d<\/p>\n

Poirot said coldly:<\/p>\n

\u201cI am not<\/span> a Frenchman!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, don\u2019t tell me you haven\u2019t got an eye for a pretty girl! What do you think of her, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hercule Poirot said:<\/p>\n

\u201cShe is not young.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat does that matter? A woman\u2019s as old as she looks! Her<\/span> looks are all right.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hercule Poirot nodded. He said:<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, she is beautiful. But it is not beauty that counts in the end. It is not beauty that makes every head (except one) turn on the beach to look at her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s IT, my boy,\u201d said the Major. \u201cThat\u2019s what it is\u2014IT.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then he said with sudden curiosity.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you looking at so steadily?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hercule Poirot replied: \u201cI am looking at the exception. At the one man who did not look up when she passed.\u201d<\/p>\n

Major Barry followed his gaze to where it rested on a man of about forty, fair-haired and suntanned. He had a quiet pleasant face and was sitting on the beach smoking a pipe and reading The Times.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, that!<\/span>\u201d said Major Barry. \u201cThat\u2019s the husband, my boy. That\u2019s Marshall.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hercule Poirot said:<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I know.\u201d<\/p>\n

Major Barry chuckled. He himself was a bachelor. He was accustomed to think of The Husband in three lights only\u2014as \u201cthe Obstacle,\u201d \u201cthe Inconvenience\u201d or \u201cthe Safeguard.\u201d<\/p>\n

He said:<\/p>\n

\u201cSeems a nice fellow. Quiet. Wonder if my Times<\/span> has come?\u201d<\/p>\n

He got up and went up towards the hotel.<\/p>\n

Poirot\u2019s glance shifted slowly to the face of Stephen Lane.<\/p>\n

Stephen Lane was watching Arlena Marshall and Patrick Redfern. He turned suddenly to Poirot. There was a stern fanatical light in his eyes.<\/p>\n

He said:<\/p>\n

\u201cThat woman is evil through and through. Do you doubt it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Poirot said slowly:<\/p>\n

\u201cIt is difficult to be sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

Stephen Lane said:<\/p>\n

\u201cBut, man alive, don\u2019t you feel it in the air? All round you? The presence of Evil.\u201d<\/p>\n

Slowly, Hercule Poirot nodded his head.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Read the full book by downloading it below.<\/p>\n

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Book Preview One When Captain Roger Angmering built himself a house in the year 1782 on the island off Leathercombe Bay, it was thought the height of eccentricity on his part. A man of good family such as he was should have had a decorous mansion set in wide meadows with, perhaps, a running stream … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2354,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[142],"class_list":["post-2355","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-agatha-christie"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2355","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2355"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2355\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2355"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2355"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2355"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}