Chapter 30
It was early dawn when they came into Shellвl. The rocks came down grimly to the water's edge.
Poirot murmured, "Quel pays sauvage!"
Race stood beside him. "Well," he said, "we've done our job. I've arranged for Richetti to be taken
ashore¹ first. Glad we've got him, He's been a slippery customer, I can tell you. Given us the slip
dozens of times."
He went on: "We must get hold of a stretcher for Doyle. Remarkable² how he went to pieces."
"Not really," said Poirot. "That boyish type of criminal is usually intensely vain. Once prick³ the
bubble of their self-esteem and it is finished! They go to pieces like children."
"Deserves to be hanged," said Race. "He's a cold-blooded scoundrel. I'm sorry for the girl - but
there's nothing to be done about it."
Poirot shook his head.
"People say love justifies⁴ everything, but that is not true. Women who care for men as Jacqueline
cares for Simon Doyle are very dangerous. It is what I said when I saw her first. 'She cares too
much, that little one!' It is true."
Cornelia Robson came up beside him.
"Oh," she said, "we're nearly in."
She paused a minute or two then added, "I've been with her."
"With Mademoiselle de Bellefort?"
"Yes. I felt it was kind of awful for her boxed up with that stewardess⁵. Cousin Marie's very angry
though, I'm afraid."
Miss Van Schuyler was progressing slowly down the deck toward them. Her eyes were venomous.
"Cornelia," she snapped, "you've behaved outrageously⁶. I shall send you straight home."
Cornelia took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Cousin Marie, but I'm not going home. I'm going to get
married."
"So you've seen sense at last," snapped the old lady.
Ferguson came striding round the corner of the deck. He said: "Cornelia, what's this I hear? It's not
true!"

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