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Агата Кристи
‘Yes, but—’
‘He must have prepared a secret place beforehand—
naturally—of course it’s just what he would do. You know, like a Priest’s Hole in old manor houses.’
‘This isn’t an old house of that kind.’
‘He could have had one made.’
Philip Lombard shook his head. He said:
‘We measured the place—that first morning. I’ll swear there’s no space unaccounted for.’
Vera said:
‘There must be…’
Lombard said:
‘I’d like to see—’
Vera cried:
‘Yes, you’d like to see! And he knows that! He’s in there— waiting for you.’
Lombard said, half bringing out the revolver from his pocket:
‘I’ve got this, you know.’
‘You said Blore was all right—that he was more than a match for Armstrong. So he was physically, and he was on the look out too. But what you don’t seem to realise is that Armstrong is
Lombard put back the revolver in his pocket. He said:
‘Come on, then.’
IV
Lombard said at last:
‘What are we going to do when night comes?’
Vera didn’t answer. He went on accusingly:
‘You haven’t thought of that?’
She said helplessly:
‘What
Philip Lombard said thoughtfully:
‘It’s fine weather. There will be a moon. We must find a place—up by the top cliffs perhaps. We can sit there and wait for morning.
He paused:
‘You’ll be cold, perhaps, in that thin dress?’
Vera said with a raucous laugh:
‘Cold? I should be colder if I were dead!’
Philip Lombard said quietly:
‘Yes, that’s true…’
Vera moved restlessly.
She said:
‘I shall go mad if I sit here any longer. Let’s move about.’
‘All right.’
They paced slowly up and down, along the line of the rocks overlooking the sea. The sun was dropping towards the west. The light was golden and mellow. It enveloped them in a golden glow.
Vera said, with a sudden nervous little giggle:
‘Pity we can’t have a bathe…’
Philip was looking down towards the sea. He said abruptly:
‘What’s that, there? You see—by that big rock? No—a little farther to the right.’
Vera stared. She said:
‘It looks like somebody’s clothes!’
‘A bather, eh?’ Lombard laughed. ‘Queer. I suppose it’s only seaweed.’
Vera said:
‘Let’s go and look.’
‘It is clothes,’ said Lombard as they drew nearer. ‘A bundle of them. That’s a boot. Come on, let’s scramble along here.’
They scrambled over the rocks.
Vera stopped suddenly. She said:
The man was wedged between two rocks, flung there by the tide earlier in the day.
Lombard and Vera reached it in a last scramble. They bent down.
‘My God! it’s
Chapter 16
I
Aeons passed… worlds spun and whirled… Time was motionless… It stood still—it passed through a thousand ages…
No, it was only a minute or so…
Two people were standing looking down on a dead man…
Slowly, very slowly, Vera Claythorne and Philip Lombard lifted their heads and looked into each other’s eyes…
