Evil Under the Sun

Rosamund Darnley joined Captain Marshall. She said in a low voice:

‘That wasn’t so bad, was it, Ken?’

He did not answer at once. Perhaps he was conscious of the staring eyes of the villagers, the fingers that nearly pointed to him and only just did not quite do so!

‘That’s ’im, my dear.’ ‘See, that’s ’er ’usband.’ ‘That be the ’usband.’ ‘Look, there ’e goes…’

The murmurs were not loud enough to reach his ears, but he was none the less sensitive to them. This was the modern-day pillory. The Press he had already encountered-self-confident, persuasive young men, adept at battering down his wall of silence of ‘Nothing to say’ that he had endeavoured to erect. Even the curt monosyllables that he had uttered, thinking that they at least could not lead to misapprehension, had reappeared in his morning’s papers in a totally different guise. ‘Asked whether he agreed that the mystery of his wife’s death could only be explained on the assumption that a homicidal murderer had found his way on to the island, Captain Marshall declared that-’ and so on and so forth.

Cameras had clicked ceaselessly. Now, at this minute, the well-known sound caught his ear. He half turned-a smiling young man was nodding cheerfully, his purpose accomplished.

Rosamund murmured:

‘Captain Marshall and a friend leaving the Red Bull after the inquest.’

Marshall winced.

Rosamund said:

‘It’s no use, Ken! You’ve got to face it! I don’t mean just the fact of Arlena’s death-I mean all the attendant beastliness. The staring eyes and gossiping tongues, the fatuous interviews in the papers-and the best way to meet it is to find it funny! Come out with all the old inane cliches and curl a sardonic lip at them.’

He said:

‘Is that your way?’

‘Yes.’ She paused. ‘It isn’t yours, I know. Protective colouring is your line. Remain rigidly non-active and fade into the background! But you can’t do that here-you’ve no background to fade into. You stand out clear for all to see-like a striped tiger against a white backcloth.The husband of the murdered woman! ’

‘For God’s sake, Rosamund-’

She said gently:

‘My dear, I’m trying to be good for you!’

They walked for a few steps in silence. Then Marshall said in a different voice:

‘I know you are. I’m not really ungrateful, Rosamund.’

They had progressed beyond the limits of the village. Eyes followed them but there was no one very near. Rosamund Darnley’s voice dropped as she repeated a variant of her first remark.

‘It didn’t really go so badly, did it?’

He was silent for a moment, then he said:

‘I don’t know.’

‘What do the police think?’

‘They’re non-committal.’

After a minute Rosamund said:

‘That little man-Poirot-is he really taking an active interest!’

Kenneth Marshall said:

‘Seemed to be sitting in the Chief Constable’s pocket all right the other day.’

‘I know-but is hedoing anything?’ 

‘How the hell should I know, Rosamund?’

She said thoughtfully:

‘He’s pretty old. Probably more or less ga ga.’

‘Perhaps.’

They came to the causeway. Opposite them, serene in the sun, lay the island.

Rosamund said suddenly:

‘Sometimes-things seem unreal. I can’t believe, this minute, that it ever happened…’

Marshall said slowly:

‘I think I know what you mean. Nature is so regardless! One ant the less-that’s all it is in Nature!’

Rosamund said:

‘Yes-and that’s the proper way to look at it really.’

He gave her one very quick glance. Then he said in a low voice:

‘Don’t worry, my dear. It’s all right.It’s all right.’

II

Linda came down to the causeway to meet them. She moved with the spasmodic jerkiness of a nervous colt. Her young face was marred by deep black shadows under her eyes. Her lips were dry and rough.

She said breathlessly:

‘What happened-what-what did they say?’ 

Her father said abruptly:

‘Inquest adjourned for a fortnight.’

‘That means they-they haven’t decided?’

‘Yes. More evidence is needed.’

‘But-but what do they think?’

Marshall smiled a little in spite of himself.

‘Oh, my dear child-who knows? And whom do you mean by they? The coroner, the jury, the police, the newspaper reporters, the fishing folk of Leathercombe Bay?’

Linda said slowly:

‘I suppose I mean-the police.’

Marshall said dryly:

‘Whatever the police think, they’re not giving it away at present.’

His lips closed tightly after the sentence. He went into the hotel.

As Rosamund Darnley was about to follow suit, Linda said:

‘Rosamund!’

Rosamund turned. The mute appeal in the girl’s unhappy face touched her. She linked her arm through Linda’s and together they walked away from the hotel, taking the path that led to the extreme end of the island.

Rosamund said gently:

‘Try not to mind so much, Linda. I know it’s all very terrible and a shock and all that, but it’s no use brooding over these things. And it can be only the-horror of it, that is worrying you. You weren’t in the leastfond of Arlena, you know.’

She felt the tremor that ran through the girl’s body as Linda answered:

‘No, I wasn’t fond of her…’

Rosamund went on: