Next to it again was Rosamund Darnley’s room, and here he lingered for a moment in the sheer pleasure of the owner’s personality.
He noted the few books that lay on the table next to the bed, the expensive simplicity of the toilet set on the dressing table. And there came gently to his nostrils the elusive expensive perfume that Rosamund Darnley used.
Next to Rosamund Darnley’s room at the northern end of the corridor was an open window leading to a balcony from which an outside stair led down to the rocks below.
Weston said:
“That’s the way people go down to bathe before breakfast—that is, if they bathe off the rocks as most of them do.”
Interest came into Hercule Poirot’s eyes. He stepped outside and looked down.
Below, a path led to steps cut zigzag leading down the rocks to the sea. There was also a path that led round the hotel to the left. He said:
“One could go down these stairs, go to the left round the hotel and join the main path up from the causeway.”
Weston nodded. He amplified Poirot’s statement.
“One could go right across the island without going through the hotel at all.” He added: “But one might still be seen from a window.”
“What window?”
“Two of the public bathrooms look out that way—north—and the staff bathroom, and the cloakrooms on the ground floor. Also the billiard room.”
Poirot nodded. He said:
“And all the former have frosted glass windows, and one does not play billiards on a fine morning.”
“Exactly.”
Weston paused and said:
“If he did it, that’s the way he went.”
“You mean Captain Marshall?”
“Yes. Blackmail, or no blackmail. I still feel it points to him. And his manner—well, his manner is unfortunate.”
Hercule Poirot said dryly:
“Perhaps—but a manner does not make a murderer!”
Weston said:
“Then you think he’s out of it?”
Poirot shook his head. He said:
“No, I would not say that.”
Weston said:
“We’ll see what Colgate can make out of the typewriting alibi. In the meantime I’ve got the chambermaid of this floor waiting to be interviewed. A good deal may depend on her evidence.”
The chambermaid was a woman of thirty, brisk, efficient and intelligent. Her answers came readily.
Captain Marshall had come up to his room not long after ten-thirty. She was then finishing the room. He had asked her to be as quick as possible. She had not seen him come back but she had heard the sound of the typewriter a little later. She put it at about five minutes to eleven. She was then in Mr. and Mrs. Redfern’s room. After she had done that she moved on to Miss Darnley’s room at the end of the corridor. She could not hear the typewriter from there. She went to Miss Darnley’s room, as near as she could say, at just after eleven o’clock. She remembered hearing Leathercombe Church strike the hour as she went in. At a quarter past eleven she had gone downstairs for her eleven o’clock cup of tea and “snack.” Afterwards she had gone to do the rooms in the other wing of the hotel. In answer to the Chief Constable’s question she explained that she had done the rooms in this corridor in the following order:
Miss Linda Marshall’s, the two public bathrooms, Mrs. Marshall’s room and private bath, Captain Marshall’s room. Mr. and Mrs. Redfern’s room and private bath, Miss Darnley’s room and private bath. Captain Marshall’s and Miss Marshall’s rooms had no adjoining bathrooms.