The Chief Constable said:
“Well, I leave it to you, Colgate. Comb the neighbourhood thoroughly. You know what to do. We’d better see Miss Brewster now.”
V
Emily Brewster was not able to add anything of material value to what they already knew.
Weston said after she had repeated her story:
“And there’s nothing you know of that could help us in any way?”
Emily Brewster said shortly:
“Afraid not. It’s a distressing business. However, I expect you’ll soon get to the bottom of it.”
Weston said:
“I hope so, I’m sure.”
Emily Brewster said dryly:
“Ought not to be difficult.”
“Now what do you mean by that, Miss Brewster?”
“Sorry. Wasn’t attempting to teach you your business. All I meant was that with a woman of that kind it ought to be easy enough.”
Hercule Poirot murmured:
“That is your opinion?”
Emily Brewster snapped out:
“Of course. De mortuis nil nisi bonum and all that, but you can’t get away from facts. That woman was a bad lot through and through. You’ve only got to hunt round a bit in her unsavoury past.”
Hercule Poirot said gently:
“You did not like her?”
“I know a bit too much about her.” In answer to the inquiring looks she went on: “My first cousin married one of the Erskines. You’ve probably heard that that woman induced old Sir Robert when he was in his dotage to leave most of his fortune to her away from his own family.”
Colonel Weston said:
“And the family—er—resented that?”
“Naturally. His association with her was a scandal anyway, and on top of that, to leave her a sum like fifty thousand pounds shows just the kind of woman she was. I dare say I sound hard, but in my opinion the Arlena Stuarts of this world deserve very little sympathy. I know of something else too—a young fellow who lost his head about her completely—he’d always been a bit wild, naturally his association with her pushed him over the edge. He did something rather fishy with some shares—solely to get money to spend on her—and only just managed to escape prosecution. That woman contaminated everyone she met. Look at the way she was ruining young Redfern. No, I’m afraid I can’t have any regret for her death—though of course it would have been better if she’d drowned herself, or fallen over a cliff. Strangling is rather unpleasant.”
“And you think the murderer was someone out of her past?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Someone who came from the mainland with no one seeing him?”
“Why should any one see him? We were all on the beach. I gather the Marshall child and Christine Redfern were down on Gull Cove out of the way. Captain Marshall was in his room in the hotel. Then who on earth was there to see him except possibly Miss Darnley.”
“Where was Miss Darnley?”
“Sitting up on the cutting at the top of the cliff. Sunny Ledge it’s called. We saw her there, Mr. Redfern and I, when we were rowing round the island.”