Read Online Evil Under the Sun by Agatha Christie - Free Book Online Page B

deep agonized whisper. “Who? Who? Who could have done that to Arlena. She can’t have—have been murdered. It can’t be true!”
    Emily Brewster shook her head, not knowing quite what to answer.
    She heard him draw in his breath—heard the low controlled rage in his voice as he said:
    â€œMy God, if I get my hands on the foul fiend who did this.”
    Emily Brewster shivered. Her imagination pictured a lurking murderer behind one of the boulders. Then she heard her voice saying:
    â€œWhoever did it wouldn’t be hanging about. We must get the police. Perhaps—” she hesitated—“one of us ought to stay with—with the body.”
    Patrick Redfern said:
    â€œI’ll stay.”
    Emily Brewster drew a little sigh of relief. She was not the kind of woman who would ever admit to feeling fear, but she was secretly thankful not to have to remain on that beach alone with the faint possibility of a homicidal maniac lingering close at hand.
    She said:
    â€œGood. I’ll be as quick as I can. I’ll go in the boat. Can’t face that ladder. There’s a constable at Leathercombe Bay.”
    Patrick Redfern murmured mechanically:
    â€œYes—yes, whatever you think best.”
    As she rowed vigorously away from the shore, Emily Brewster saw Patrick drop down beside the dead woman and bury his head in his hands. There was something so forlorn about his attitude that she felt an unwilling sympathy. He looked like a dog watching byits dead master. Nevertheless her robust common sense was saying to her:
    â€œBest thing that could have happened for him and his wife—and for Marshall and the child—but I don’t suppose he can see it that way, poor devil.”
    Emily Brewster was a woman who could always rise to an emergency.

Five
    I nspector Colgate stood back by the cliff waiting for the police-surgeon to finish with Arlena’s body. Patrick Redfern and Emily Brewster stood a little to one side.
    Dr. Neasden rose from his knees with a quick deft movement.
    He said:
    â€œStrangled—and by a pretty powerful pair of hands. She doesn’t seem to have put up much of a struggle. Taken by surprise. H’m—well—nasty business.”
    Emily Brewster had taken one look and then quickly averted her eyes from the dead woman’s face. That horrible purple convulsed countenance.
    Inspector Colgate asked:
    â€œWhat about time of death?”
    Neasden said irritably:
    â€œCan’t say definitely without knowing more about her. Lots offactors to take into account. Let’s see, it’s quarter to one now. What time was it when you found her?”
    Patrick Redfern, to whom the question was addressed, said vaguely:
    â€œSome time before twelve. I don’t know exactly.”
    Emily Brewster said:
    â€œIt was exactly a quarter to twelve when we found she was dead.”
    â€œAh, and you came here in the boat. What time was it when you caught sight of her lying here?”
    Emily Brewster considered.
    â€œI should say we rounded the point about five or six minutes earlier.” She turned to Redfern. “Do you agree?”
    He said vaguely:
    â€œYes—yes—about that, I should think.”
    Neasden asked the Inspector in a low voice:
    â€œThis the husband? Oh! I see, my mistake. Thought it might be. He seems rather done in over it.”
    He raised his voice officially.
    â€œLet’s put it at twenty minutes to twelve. She cannot have been killed very long before that. Say between then and eleven—quarter to eleven at the earliest outside limit.”
    The Inspector shut his notebook with a snap.
    â€œThanks,” he said. “That ought to help us considerably. Puts it within very narrow limits—less than an hour all told.”
    He turned to Miss Brewster.
    â€œNow then, I think it’s all clear so far. You’re Miss Emily Brewster and this is Mr. Patrick Redfern, both staying at the