Hercule Poirot's Casebook

But Poirot was looking at her face - the face of a woman of

thirty-nine who had been famous since sixteen for her beauty.

He knew, as everyone knew, all about Valentine Chantry,.

She had been famous for many things - for her caprices, for her

wealth, for her enormous sapphire-blue eyes, for her matrimonial

ventures and adventures. She had had five husbands

and innumerable lovers. She had in mm been the wife of an

Italian count, of ar American steel magnate, of a tennis

professional, of a racing motorist. Of these four the American

had died, but the others had been shed negligently in the

divorce court. Six months ago she had married a fifth time a

commander in the .navy.

He it was who came striding down the beach behind her.

Silent, dark - with a pugnacious jaw and a sullen manner. A

touch of the primeval ape about him.

She said:

'Tony darling - my cigarette case...'

He had it ready for her - lighted her cigarette - helped her

to slip the straps of the white bathing-dress from her shoulders.

She lay, arms outstretched in the sun. He sat by her like some

wild beast that guards it prey.

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Pamela said, h. her voice just lowered sufficiently:

'You know :ey invest me frightfully... He's such a brute!

So silent and - m0sort ofgIowering. I suppose a woman of her kind

likes that. It rmstmst be le controlling a tiger! I wonder how long

it will last. Sk oae get tired of them very soon, I believe -especially

noWflabadays. All the same, if she tried to get rid of him,

I think he might ;rht be dangerous.'

Another couphlple cae down the beach - rather shyly. They

were the newC0,mers 0fthe night before. Mx and Mxs Douglas

Gold as Miss L:J Lyall knew from her inspection of the hotel

visitors' book. She knew, too, for such were the Italian

regulations - teiiaeir Clfistian names and their ages as set down

from their passpotports.

Mr Dougl a Caxeron Gold was thirty-one and Mrs

Marjorie Emro PA Gold was thirty-five.

Miss Lyall'shobbyin life, as has been said, was the study of

human beings. IhTUnlikemost English people, she was capable of

speaking to stmgangers on sight instead of allowing four days to

a week to elaple before making the first cautious advance as is

the customary gnl3ritish habit. She, therefore, noting the slight

hesitancy and shy/yness of Mrs Gold's advance, called out:

'Good molng, isn't it a lovely day?'

Mrs Gold was m.s a small woman - rather like a mouse. She was

not bad-loolg, g, indeed her features were regular and her

complexion g00cl-.bd, but she had a certain air of diffidence and

dowdiness thata,anade her liable to be overlooked. Her husband,

on the other hcbxd, was extremely good-looking, in an almost

theatrical mm:er. Very fair, crisply curling hair, blue eyes,

broad shoulden, a, narrow hips. He looked more like a young

man on the stay te thana young man in real life, but the moment

he opened his narnouth that impression faded. He was quite

natural and zrff,fected, even, perhaps, a little stupid.

Mrs Goldl00keed gratefully at Pamela and sat down near her.

'What a ]0vel3lely shade of brown you are. I feel terribly

underdone!'

'One has to k,ke a frightful lot of trouble to brown evenly,'

sighed Miss LtILll.

119

She paused a minute and then went on:

'You've only just arrived, haven't you?'

'Yes. Last night. We came on the Vapo d'Italia boat.'

'Have you ever been to Rhodes before?'

'No. It is lovely, isn't it?'

Herhusband said:

'Pity it's such a long way to come.'

'Yes, if it were only nearer England '

In a muffled voice Sarah said:

'Yes, but then it would be awful. Rows and rows of people

laid out like fish on a slab. Bodies everywhere!'

'That's true, of course,' said Douglas Gold. 'It's a nuisance

the Italian exchange is so absolutely ruinous at present.'

'It does make a difference, doesn't it?'

The conversation was running on strictly stereotyped lines.

It could hardly have been called brilliant.

A little way along the beach, Valentine Chantry stirred and

sat up. With one hand she held her bathing-dress in position

across her breast.

She yawned, a wide yet delicate cat-like yawn. She glanced

casually down the beach. Her eyes slanted past Marjorie Gold

- and stayed thoughtfully on the crisp, golden head of Douglas

Gold.

She moved her shoulders sinuously. She spoke and her voice

was raised a little higher than it need have been.

'Tony darling - isn't it divine - this sun? I simply must have

been a sun worshipper once - don't you think so?'

Her husband grunted something in reply that failed to reach

the others. Vaienfine Chantry went on in that high, drawling

voice.

'Just pull that towel a little flatter, will you, darling?'

She took infinite pains in the resettling of her beautiful body.

'Douglas Gold was looking now. His eyes were frankly

interested.

Mrs Gold chirped happily in a subdued key to Miss Lyall.

'What a beautiful woman!'

120

Pamela, as delighted to give as to receive information,

replied in a lower voice:

'That's Valentine Chantry - you know, who used to be

Valentine Dacres - she is rather marvellous, isn't she? He's

simply crazy about her - won't let her out of his sight!'