'I see,' said Weston.
Tim looked at him uneasily.
'What on earth is this you're getting at? What did that damn. fool Enrico- Manuel- whichever it was – say?'
'He said your wife came out into the kitchen, that she looked upset, that she had a knife in her hand.'
'He's just dramatising.'
'Did you have any further conversation with your wife during dinner or after?'
'No, I don't think I did really. Matter of fact I was rather busy.'
'Was your wife in the dining room during the meal?'
'I- oh- yes, we always move about among the guests and things like that. See how things are going on.'
'Did you speak to her at all?'
'No, I don't think I did… We're usually fairly busy. We don't always notice what the other one's doing and we certainly haven't got time to talk to each other.'
'Actually you don't remember speaking to her until she came up the steps three hours later, after finding the body?'
'It was an awful shock for her. It upset her terribly.'
'I know. A very unpleasant experience. How did she come to be walking along the beach path?'
'After the stress of dinner being served, she often does go for a turn. You know, get away from the guests for a minute or two, get a breather.'
'When she came back, I understand you were talking to Mrs. Hillingdon.'
'Yes. Practically everyone else had gone to bed.'
'What was the subject of your conversation with Mrs. Hillingdon?'
'Nothing particular. Why? What's she been saying?'
'So far she hasn't said anything. We haven't asked her.'
'We were just talking of this and that. Molly, the hotel running, and one thing and another.'
'And then your wife came up the steps of the terrace and told you what had happened?'
'Yes.'
'There was blood on her hands?'
'Of course there was! She'd bent over the girl, tried to lift her, couldn't understand what had happened, what was the matter with her. Of course there was blood on her hands! Look here, what the hell are you suggesting? You are suggesting something?'
'Please calm down,' said Daventry.
'It's all a great strain on you I know, Tim, but we have to get the facts clear. I understand your wife hasn't been feeling very well lately?'
'Nonsense-she's all right. Major Palgrave's death upset her a bit. Naturally. She's a sensitive girl.'
'We shall have to ask her a few questions as soon as she's fit enough,' said Weston.
'Well, you can't now. The doctor gave her a sedative and said she wasn't to be disturbed. I won't have her upset and browbeaten, d'you hear?'
'We're not going to do any browbeating,' said Weston. 'We've just got to get the facts clear. We won't disturb her at present, but as soon as the doctor allows us, we'll have to see her.' His voice was gentle – inflexible.
Tim looked at him, opened his mouth, but said nothing.
II
Evelyn Hillingdon, calm and composed as usual, sat down in the chair indicated. She considered the few questions asked her, taking her time over it. Her dark, intelligent eyes looked at Weston thoughtfully.
'Yes,' she said, 'I was talking to Mr. Kendal on the terrace when his wife came up the steps and told us about the murder.'
'Your husband wasn't there?'
'No, he had gone to bed.'
'Had you any special reason for your conversation with Mr. Kendal?'
Evelyn raised her finely pencilled eyebrows. It was a definite rebuke.
She said coldly: ''What a very odd question. No, there was nothing special about our conversation.'
'Did you discuss the matter of his wife's health?'
Again Evelyn took her time.
'I really can't remember,' she said at last.
'Are you sure of that?'
'Sure that I can't remember? What a curious way of putting it. One talks about so many things at different times.'
'Mrs. Kendal has not been in good health lately, I understand.'
'She looked quite all right – a little tired perhaps. Of course running a place like this means a lot of worries, and she is quite inexperienced. Naturally, she gets flustered now and then.'
'Flustered.' Weston repeated the word. 'That was the way you would describe it?'
'It's an old-fashioned word, perhaps, but just as good as the modern jargon we use for everything. A 'virus infection' for a bilious attack-an 'anxiety neurosis' for the minor bothers of daily life.' Her smile made Weston feel slightly ridiculous. He thought to himself that Evelyn Hillingdon was a clever woman. He looked at Daventry whose face remained unmoved and wondered what he thought.
'Thank you, Mrs. Hillingdon,' said Weston.
III
'We don't want to worry you, Mrs. Kendal, but we have to have your account of just how you came to find this girl. Dr. Graham says you are sufficiently recovered to talk about it now.'
'Oh yes,' said Molly, 'I'm really quite all right again.' She gave them a small nervous smile. 'It was just the shock. It was rather awful, you know.'
'Yes, indeed it must have been. I understand you went for a walk after dinner.'
'Yes. I often do.'
Her eyes shifted, Daventry noticed, and the fingers of her hands twined and untwined about each other.
'What time would that have been, Mrs. Kendal?' asked Weston.
'Well, I don't really know – we don't go much by the time.'
'The steel band was still playing?'
'Yes. At least I think so. I can't really remember.'
'And you walked, which way?'
'Oh, along the beach path.'
'To the left or the right?'
'Oh! First one way- and then the other. I-I really didn't notice.'
'Why didn't you notice, Mrs. Kendal?'
She frowned.
'I suppose I was- well- thinking of things.'
'Thinking of anything particular?'
'No. No. Nothing particular. Just things that had to be done- seen to- in the hotel.'
Again that nervous twining and untwining of fingers.
'And then I noticed something white in a clump of hibiscus bushes and I wondered what it was. I stopped
