“Well, no, I haven’t. The sailing’s all right and the scenery and the service and the food—but there’s no matiness in the place, you know what I mean! What I say is, my money’s as good as another man’s. We’re all here to enjoy ourselves. Then why not get together and do it? All these cliques and people sitting by themselves and giving you frosty good mornings—and good evenings—and yes, very pleasant weather. No joy de viver. Lot of stuck-up dummies!”

Mr. Blatt paused—by now very red indeed.

He wiped his forehead once more and said apologetically:

“Don’t pay any attention to me. I get all worked up.”

III

Hercule Poirot murmured:

“And what do we think of Mr. Blatt?”

Colonel Weston grinned and said:

“What do you think of him? You’ve seen more of him than I have.”

Poirot said softly:

“There are many of your English idioms that describe him. The rough diamond! The self-made man! The social climber! He is, as you choose to look at it, pathetic, ludicrous, blatant! It is a matter of opinion. But I think, too, that he is something else.”

“And what is that?”

Hercule Poirot, his eyes raised to the ceiling, murmured:

“I think that he is—nervous!”

IV

Inspector Colgate said:

“I’ve got those times worked out. From the hotel to the ladder down to Pixy Cove three minutes. That’s walking till you are out of sight of the hotel and then running like hell.”

Weston raised his eyebrows. He said:

“That’s quicker than I thought.”

“Down ladder to beach one minute and three quarters. Up same two minutes. That’s P.C. Flint. He’s a bit of an athlete. Walking and taking the ladder in the normal way, the whole business takes close on a quarter of an hour.”

Weston nodded. He said:

“There’s another thing we must go into, the pipe question.”

Colgate said:

“Blatt smokes a pipe, so does Marshall, so does the parson. Redfern smokes cigarettes, the American prefers a cigar. Major Barry doesn’t smoke at all. There’s one pipe in Marshall’s room, two in Blatt’s, and one in the parson’s. Chambermaid says Marshall has two pipes. The other chambermaid isn’t a very bright girl. Doesn’t know how many pipes the other two have. Says vaguely she’s noticed two or three about in their rooms.”

Weston nodded.

“Anything else?”

“I’ve checked up on the staff. They all seem quite O.K. Henry, in the bar, checks Marshall’s statement about seeing him at ten to eleven. William, the beach attendant, was down repairing the ladder on the rocks by the hotel most of the morning. He seems all right. George marked the tennis court and then bedded out some plants round by the dining room. Neither of them would have seen anyone who came across the causeway to the island.”