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Evil Under the Sun (Hercule Poirot 24)

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Poirot said:

“She may not have been actively unkind—that I will grant. But you were not fond of her—Oh no—I think you disliked her very much. That was very plain to see.”

Linda said:

“Perhaps I didn’t like her very much. But one can’t say that when a person is dead. It wouldn’t be decent.”

Poirot sighed. He said:

“They taught you that at your school?”

“More or less, I suppose.”

Hercule Poirot said:

“When a person has been murdered, it is more important to be truthful than to be decent.”

Linda said:

“I suppose you would say a thing like that.”

“I would say it and I do say it. It is my business, you see, to find out who killed Arlena Marshall.”

Linda muttered:

“I want to forget it all. It’s so horrible.”

Poirot said gently:

“But you can’t forget, can you?”

Linda said:

“I suppose some beastly madman killed her.”

Hercule Poirot murmured:

“No, I do not think it was quite like that.”

Linda caught her breath. She said:

“You sound—as though you knew?”

Poirot said:

“Perhaps I do know.” He paused and went on: “Will you trust me, my child, to do the best I can for you in your bitter troub

le?”

Linda sprang up. She said:

“I haven’t any trouble. There is nothing you can do for me. I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Poirot said, watching her:

“I am talking about candles….”

He saw the terror leap into her eyes. She cried:



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