Evil Under the Sun by Christie Agatha

Author:Christie, Agatha [Agatha, Christie,]
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Published: 2010-06-23T04:00:00+00:00

Evil Under the Sun

Chapter 8

They were standing in the bedroom that had been Arlena Marshall's. Two big bay windows gave onto a balcony that overlooked the bathing beach and the sea beyond. Sunshine poured into the room flashing over the bewildering array of bottles and jars on Arlena's dressing-table. Here there was every kind of cosmetic and unguent known to beauty parlours. Amongst this panoply of women's affairs three men moved purposefully. Inspector Colgate went about shutting and opening drawers. Presently he gave a grunt. He had come upon a packet of folded letters. He and Weston ran through them together.

Hercule Poirot had moved to the wardrobe. He opened the door of the hanging cupboard and looked at the multiplicity of gowns and sports suits that hung there. He opened the other side. Foamy lingerie lay in piles. On a wide shelf were hats. Two more beach cardboard hats in lacquer red and pale yellow - a big Hawaiian straw hat - another of drooping dark blue linen and three or four little absurdities for which, no doubt, several guineas had been paid apiece - a kind of beret in dark blue - a tuft, no more, of black velvet - a pale grey turban. Hercule Poirot stood scanning them - a faintly indulgent smile came to his lips. He murmured: “Les femmes!”

Colonel Weston was refolding the letters. “Three from young Redfern,” he said. “Damned young ass. He'll learn not to write to women in a few more years. Women always keep letters and then swear they've burnt them. There's one other letter here. Same line of country.” He held it out and Poirot took it.

"Darling Arlena,

"God, I feel blue. To be going out to China - and perhaps not seeing you again for years and years. I didn't know any man could go on feeling crazy about a woman like I feel about you. Thanks for the cheque. They won't prosecute now. It was a near shave, though, and all because I wanted to make big money for you. Can you forgive me? I wanted to set diamonds in your ears - your lovely lovely ears and clasp great milk-white pearls round your throat only they say pearls are no good nowadays. A fabulous emerald, then? Yes, that's the thing. A great emerald, cool and green and full of hidden fire. Don't forget me - but you won't, I know. You're mine - always.

"Good-bye - goodbye - good-bye.

“J.N.”

Inspector Colgate said: “Might be worth while to find out if J.N. really did go to China. Otherwise - well, he might be the person we're looking for. Crazy about the woman, idealizing her, suddenly finding out he'd been played for a sucker. It sounds to me as though this is the boy Miss Brewster mentioned. Yes, I think this might be useful.”

Hercule Poirot nodded. He said: “Yes, that letter is important. I find it very important.”

He turned round and stared at the room - at the bottles on the dressing table - at the open wardrobe and at a big Pierrot doll that lolled insolently on the bed.

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