hut.
“You!” she said.
“Cut it out!” growled Frank. “Stop the play-acting and just tell us how you got here.”
“I was out sailing with my husband… We went a long way out to sea, this afternoon. As we were coming back there was a sudden strong gust of wind and the boat was blown flat on its side. I was thrown into the sea…”
She stopped and put one hand over her eyes.
“Then what happened?” persisted Frank.
“I went under, my husband dived in, helped me back to the boat and told me to hang on to the hull. He tried to right the boat but couldn’t manage it and then suddenly he just went straight down before my very eyes!…”
“RIP,” murmured Hal.
“Shut your trap!” snapped Frank. “What happened then?”
“I clung on to the boat for as long as I could. I hoped the tide would carry the wreckage back to the coast but the opposite happened. The wind started blowing me out to sea. I knew I’d die unless I did something! Then, as it grew dark, I made out this island… Far, far away… I’m not a strong swimmer, but I decided to risk it.”
“Risk is the word,” said Frank.
“Many times I thought I’d go under. So I’d float on my back to steady myself and regain my strength. And in the end, I got here.”
“Was that you shouting?”
“Yes.”
“Aha!” said Frank to his partner. “See? I was right!”
“So you were,” acknowledged Hal, before asking:
“There were just the two of you on board that damned boat of yours?”
“Yes.”
“What about the guests you had back there?”
“They all left yesterday morning.”
Hal stared at her coolly.
“Are you sure the unfortunate gust of wind wasn’t you?” he asked with a knowing smile.
She looked at him uncomprehendingly.
“What do you mean?”
“Your story don’t ring true, darling—it sounds like it was cobbled together… The boat gets blown over, you start drowning, your hubby fishes you out and then he’s the one who goes under… Next thing you get a trip across the Atlantic… And supposing you hadn’t bothered about which way you were going, you’d have fetched up in New York harbour one of these fine days!”
She sat up.
“I forbid you to think such horrible things!”
“Oh! I’m just saying…”
“Herbert is dead!” she cried with genuine feeling. “We’d just had lunch and—”
“You said that it was getting on for evening when you started back, when the boat got turned over…”
“Because we’d been partying all night—”
“Ah! So you had! Many happy returns!”
The interruption did not appear to bother her. She seemed inert.
Meekly she went on:
“…We didn’t have lunch and I’d had something made up for us which we’d eaten out at sea…”
She was crying quietly as she spoke.
“We must do something,” she said.
“We can’t do anything for someone who’s been rolling around on the bottom of the sea for hours,” said Frank. “There are plenty of fish down there. They can take care of him.”
14
Hal looked at the woman carefully.
“Still,” he said, “it could have been an accident after all. But to be honest, we don’t give a damn if you did him in or not… It’s just that it would be better if we were all on the same side, if you take my meaning. If only because it would make dealing with each other easier.”
When she did not turn a hair at this, he went on, finding a guilty pleasure in provoking her.
“Because, of course, now that you’re here, we can’t afford the luxury of letting you go. Anyway, if you did try to leave the island, the odds that you would get sucked down in the mud or drowned would be shortissimo.”
She was just beginning to understand her position, and there was a look of silent disapproval in her eye. She let out a groan.
“Is she good-looking?” asked Frank suddenly. He was breathing noisily.
The question took Hal by surprise. He looked at the woman again, now through different eyes.
“She could be my
“You!” she said.
“Cut it out!” growled Frank. “Stop the play-acting and just tell us how you got here.”
“I was out sailing with my husband… We went a long way out to sea, this afternoon. As we were coming back there was a sudden strong gust of wind and the boat was blown flat on its side. I was thrown into the sea…”
She stopped and put one hand over her eyes.
“Then what happened?” persisted Frank.
“I went under, my husband dived in, helped me back to the boat and told me to hang on to the hull. He tried to right the boat but couldn’t manage it and then suddenly he just went straight down before my very eyes!…”
“RIP,” murmured Hal.
“Shut your trap!” snapped Frank. “What happened then?”
“I clung on to the boat for as long as I could. I hoped the tide would carry the wreckage back to the coast but the opposite happened. The wind started blowing me out to sea. I knew I’d die unless I did something! Then, as it grew dark, I made out this island… Far, far away… I’m not a strong swimmer, but I decided to risk it.”
“Risk is the word,” said Frank.
“Many times I thought I’d go under. So I’d float on my back to steady myself and regain my strength. And in the end, I got here.”
“Was that you shouting?”
“Yes.”
“Aha!” said Frank to his partner. “See? I was right!”
“So you were,” acknowledged Hal, before asking:
“There were just the two of you on board that damned boat of yours?”
“Yes.”
“What about the guests you had back there?”
“They all left yesterday morning.”
Hal stared at her coolly.
“Are you sure the unfortunate gust of wind wasn’t you?” he asked with a knowing smile.
She looked at him uncomprehendingly.
“What do you mean?”
“Your story don’t ring true, darling—it sounds like it was cobbled together… The boat gets blown over, you start drowning, your hubby fishes you out and then he’s the one who goes under… Next thing you get a trip across the Atlantic… And supposing you hadn’t bothered about which way you were going, you’d have fetched up in New York harbour one of these fine days!”
She sat up.
“I forbid you to think such horrible things!”
“Oh! I’m just saying…”
“Herbert is dead!” she cried with genuine feeling. “We’d just had lunch and—”
“You said that it was getting on for evening when you started back, when the boat got turned over…”
“Because we’d been partying all night—”
“Ah! So you had! Many happy returns!”
The interruption did not appear to bother her. She seemed inert.
Meekly she went on:
“…We didn’t have lunch and I’d had something made up for us which we’d eaten out at sea…”
She was crying quietly as she spoke.
“We must do something,” she said.
“We can’t do anything for someone who’s been rolling around on the bottom of the sea for hours,” said Frank. “There are plenty of fish down there. They can take care of him.”
14
Hal looked at the woman carefully.
“Still,” he said, “it could have been an accident after all. But to be honest, we don’t give a damn if you did him in or not… It’s just that it would be better if we were all on the same side, if you take my meaning. If only because it would make dealing with each other easier.”
When she did not turn a hair at this, he went on, finding a guilty pleasure in provoking her.
“Because, of course, now that you’re here, we can’t afford the luxury of letting you go. Anyway, if you did try to leave the island, the odds that you would get sucked down in the mud or drowned would be shortissimo.”
She was just beginning to understand her position, and there was a look of silent disapproval in her eye. She let out a groan.
“Is she good-looking?” asked Frank suddenly. He was breathing noisily.
The question took Hal by surprise. He looked at the woman again, now through different eyes.
“She could be my
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