1In the comer of a firstclass smoking carriage, Mr. Justice Wargrave, lately retired from the bench, puffed at a cigar and ran an interested eye through the political news in the Times.

2He laid the paper down and glanced out of the window. They were running now through Somerset. He glanced at his watch another two hours to go.

3He went over in his mind all that had appeared in the papers about Indian

4Island. There had been its original purchase by an American millionaire who was crazy about yachting and an account of the luxurious modern house he had built on this little island off the Devon coast. The unfortunate fact that the new third wife of the American millionaire was a bad sailor had led to the subsequent putting up of the house and island for sale. Various glowing advertisements of it had appeared in the papers. Then came the first bald statement that it had been bought by a Mr. Owen. After that the rumours of the gossip writers had started.

5Indian Island had really been bought by Miss Gabrielle Turl, the Hollywood film star! She wanted to spend some months there free from all publicity! Busy Bee had hinted delicately that it was to be an abode for Royalty? ?! Mr. Merryweather had had it whispered to him that it had been bought for a honeymoon Young

6Lord L... had surrendered to Cupid at last! Jones knew for a fact that it had been purchased by the Admiralty with a view to carrying out some very hush hush experiments!

7Definitely, Indian Island was news!

8From his pocket Mr. Justice Wargrave drew out a letter. The handwriting was practically illegible but words here and there stood out with unexpected clarity.

9Dearest Lawrence... such years since I heard anything of you... must come to

10Indian Island... the most enchanting place... so much to talk over... old days... communion with Nature... bask in sunshine... 12:40 from Paddington... meet you at Oakbridge... and his correspondent signed herself with a flourish his ever

11Constance Culmington.

12Mr. Justice Wargrave cast back in his mind to remember when exactly he had last seen Lady Constance Culmington. It must be seven no, eight years ago. She had then been going to Italy to bask in the sun and be at one with Nature and the contadini. Later, he had heard, she had proceeded to Syria where she proposed to bask in yet stronger sun and live at one with Nature and the bedouin.

13Constance Culmington, he reflected to himself, was exactly the sort of woman who would buy an island and surround herself with mystery! Nodding his head in gentle approval of his logic, Mr. Justice Wargrave allowed his head to nod...

14He slept...

15II

16Vera Claythorne, in a thirdclass carriage with five other travellers in it, leaned her head back and shut her eyes. How hot it was travelling by train today! It would be nice to get to the sea! Really a great piece of luck getting this job.

17When you wanted a holiday post it nearly always meant looking after a swarm of children secretarial holiday posts were much more difficult to get. Even the agency hadn't held out much hope.

18And then the letter had come. "I have received your name from the Skilled Women's Agency together with their recommendation. I understand they know you personally. I shall be glad to pay you the salary you ask and shall expect you to take up your duties on August 8th.

19The train is the 12:40 from Paddington and you will be met at Oakbridge station.

20I enclose five pound notes for expenses.

21Yours truly,

22Una Nancy Owen.

23And at the top was the stamped address Indian Island. Sticklehaven. Devon...

24Indian Island! Why, there had been nothing else in the papers lately! All sorts of hints and interesting rumours. Though probably that was mostly untrue. But the house had certainly been built by a millionaire and was said to be absolutely the last word in luxury.

25Vera Claythorne, tired by a recent strenuous term at school, thought to herself "Being a games mistress in a thirdclass school isn't much of a catch... If only I could get a job at some decent school."

26And then, with a cold feeling round her heart, she thought: "But I'm lucky to have even this. After all, people don't like a Coroner's Inquest, even if the

27Coroner did acquit me of all blame!"

28He had even complimented her on her presence of mind and courage, she remembered. For an inquest it couldn't have gone better. And Mrs. Hamilton had been kindness itself to her only Hugo (but she wouldn't think of Hugo!)

29Suddenly, in spite of the heat in the carriage she shivered and wished she wasn't going to the sea. A picture rose clearly before her mind. Cyril's head, bobbing up and down, swimming to the rock... Up and down up and down... And herself, swimming in easy practised strokes after him cleaving her way through the water but knowing, only too surely, that she wouldn't be in time...

30The sea its deep warm blue mornings spent lying out on the sands Hugo

31Hugo who had said he loved her...

32She must not think of Hugo...

33She opened her eyes and frowned across at the man opposite her. A tall man with a brown face, light eyes set rather close together and an arrogant almost cruel mouth.

34She thought to herself: "I bet he's been to some interesting parts of the world and seen some interesting things..."

35Ill

36Philip Lombard, summing up the girl opposite in a mere flash of his quick moving eyes thought to himself: "Quite attractive a bit schoolmistressy perhaps..."

37A cool customer, he should imagine and one who could hold her own in love or war. He'd rather like to take her on...

38He frowned. No, cut out all that kind of stuff. This was business. He'd got to keep his mind on the job.

39What exactly was up, he wondered? That little Jew had been damned mysterious. "Take it or leave it, Captain Lombard."

40He had said thoughtfully: "A hundred guineas, eh?"

41He had said it in a casual way as though a hundred guineas was nothing to him.

42A hundred guineas when he was literally down to his last square meal! He had fancied, though, that the little Jew had not been deceived that was the damnable part about Jews, you couldn't deceive them about money they knew!

43He had said in the same casual tone: "And you can't give me any further information?"

44Mr. Isaac Morris had shaken his little bald head very positively. "No, Captain Lombard, the matter rests there. It is understood by my client that your reputation is that of a good man in a tight place. I am empowered to hand you one hundred guineas in return for which you will travel to Sticklehaven,

45Devon. The nearest station is Oakbridge, you will be met there and motored to

46Sticklehaven where a motor launch will convey you to Indian Island. There you will hold yourself at the disposal of my client. "

47Lombard had said abruptly: "For how long?" "Not longer than a week at most."

48Fingering his small moustache, Captain Lombard said: "You understand I can't undertake anything illegal?"

49He had darted a very sharp glance at the other as he had spoken. There had been a very faint smile on the thick Semitic lips of Mr. Morris as he answered gravely: "If anything illegal is proposed, you will, of course, be at perfect liberty to withdraw."

50Damn the smooth little brute, he had smiled! It was as though he knew very well that in Lombard's past actions legality had not always been a sine qua non...

51Lombard's own lips parted in a grin.

52By Jove, he'd sailed pretty near the wind once or twice! But he'd always got away with it! There wasn't much he drew the line at really...

53No, there wasn't much he'd draw the line at. He fancied that he was going to enjoy himself at Indian Island...

54IV

55In a nonsmoking carriage Miss Emily Brent sat very upright as was her custom.

56She was sixtyfive and she did not approve of lounging. Her father, a Colonel of the old school, had been particular about deportment.

57The present generation was shamelessly lax in their carriage, and in every other way...

58Enveloped in an aura of righteousness and unyielding principles, Miss Brent sat in her crowded thirdclass carriage and triumphed over its discomfort and its heat. Every one made such a fuss over things nowadays! They wanted injections before they had teeth pulled they took drugs if they couldn't sleep they wanted easy chairs and cushions and the girls allowed their figures to slop about anyhow and lay about half naked on the beaches in summer.

59Miss Brent's lips set closely. She would like to make an example of certain people.

60She remembered last year's summer holiday. This year, however, it would be quite different. Indian Island...

61Mentally she reread the letter which she had already read so many times.

62Dear Miss Brent,

63I do hope you remember me? We were together at Bellhaven Guest House in

64August some years ago, and we seemed to have so much in common.

65I am starting a guest house of my own on an island off the coast of Devon. I think there is really an opening for a place where there is good plain cooking and a nice oldfashioned type of person. None of this nudity and gramophones half the night. I shall be very glad if you could see your way to spending your summer holiday on Indian Island quite free as my guest. Would early in August suit you? Perhaps the 8th.

66Yours sincerely.

67U.N.

68What was the name? The signature was rather difficult to read. Emily Brent thought impatiently: "So many people write their signatures quite illegibly."

69She let her mind run back over the people at Bellhaven. She had been there two summers running. There had been that nice middleaged woman Mrs. Mrs. now what was her name? her father had been a Canon. And there had been a

70Miss Olton Ormen No, surely it was Oliver! Yes Oliver.

71Indian Island! There had been things in the paper about Indian Island something about a film star or was it an American millionaire?

72Of course often those places went very cheap islands didn't suit everybody. They thought the idea was romantic but when they came to live there they realized the disadvantages and were only too glad to sell.

73Emily Brent thought to herself: "I shall be getting a free holiday at any rate."

74With her income so much reduced and so many dividends not being paid, that was indeed something to take into consideration. If only she could remember a little more about Mrs. or was it Miss Oliver?

75V

76General Macarthur looked out of the carriage window. The train was just coming into Exeter where he had to change. Damnable, these slow branch line trains!

77This place, Indian Island, was really no distance at all as the crow flies.

78He hadn't got it clear who this fellow Owen was. A friend of Spoof Leggard's, apparently and of Johnny Dyer's.

79One or two of your old cronies are coming would like to have a talk over old times.

80Well, he'd enjoy a chat about old times. He'd had a fancy lately that fellows were rather lighting shy of him. All owing to that damned rumour! By God, it was pretty hard nearly thirty years ago now! Armstrong had talked, he supposed.

81Damned young pup! What did he know about it? Oh, well, no good brooding about these things! One fancied things sometimes fancied a fellow was looking at you queerly.

82This Indian Island now, he'd be interested to see it. A lot of gossip flying about.

83Looked as though there might be something in the rumour that the Admiralty or the War Office or the Air Force had got hold of it...

84Young Elmer Robson, the American millionaire, had actually built the place.

85Spent thousands on it, so it was said. Every mortal luxury...

86Exeter! And an hour to wait! And he didn't want to wait. He wanted to get on...

87VI

88Dr. Armstrong was driving his Morris across Salisbury Plain. He was very tired...

89Success had its penalties. There had been a time when he had sat in his consulting room in Harley Street, correctly apparelled, surrounded with the most uptodate appliances and the most luxurious furnishings and waited waited through the empty days for his venture to succeed or fail...

90Well, it had succeeded! He'd been lucky! Lucky and skillful of course. He was a good man at his job but that wasn't enough for success. You had to have luck as well. And he'd had it! An accurate diagnosis, a couple of grateful women patients women with money and position and word had got about. "You ought to try

91Armstrong quite a young man but so clever Pam had been to all sorts of people for years and he put his finger on the trouble at once!" The ball had started rolling.

92And now Dr. Armstrong had definitely arrived. His days were full. He had little leisure. And so, on this August morning, he was glad that he was leaving

93London and going to be for some days on an island off the Devon coast. Not that it was exactly a holiday. The letter he had received had been rather vague in its terms, but there was nothing vague about the accompanying cheque. A whacking fee.

94These Owens must be rolling in money. Some little difficulty, it seemed, a husband who was worried about his wife's health and wanted a report on it without her being alarmed. She wouldn't hear of seeing a doctor. Her nerves

95Nerves! The doctor's eyebrows went up. These women and their nerves! Well, it was good for business, after all. Half the women who consulted him had nothing the matter with them but boredom, but they wouldn't thank you for telling them so! And one could usually find something. "A slightly uncommon condition of the some long word nothing at all serious but it just needs putting right. A simple treatment."

96Well, medicine was mostly faithhealing when it came to it. And he had a good manner he could inspire hope and belief.

97Lucky that he'd managed to pull himself together in time after that business ten no, fifteen years ago. It had been a near thing, that! He'd been going to pieces.

98The shock had pulled him together. He'd cut out drink altogether. By Jove, it had been a near thing though...

99With a devastating carsplitting blast on the horn an enormous Super Sports

100Dalmain car rushed past him at eighty miles an hour. Dr. Armstrong nearly went into the hedge. One of these young fools who tore round the country. He hated them. That had been a near shave, too. Damned young fool!

101VII

102Tony Marston, roaring down into Mere, thought to himself: "The amount of cars crawling about the roads is frightful. Always something blocking your way. And they will drive in the middle of the road! Pretty hopeless driving in England, anyway... Not like France where you really could let out..."

103Should he stop here for a drink, or push on? Heaps of time! Only another hundred miles and a bit to go. He'd have a gin and gingerbeer. Fizzing hot day!

104This island place ought to be rather good fun if the weather lasted. Who were these Owens, he wondered? Rich and stinking, probably. Badger was rather good at nosing people like that out. Of course, he had to, poor old chap, with no money of his own...

105Hope they'd do one well in drinks. Never knew with these fellows who'd made their money and weren't born to it. Pity that story about Gabrielle Turl having bought Indian Island wasn't true. He'd like to have been in with that film star crowd.

106Oh, well, he supposed there'd be a few girls there...

107Coming out of the Hotel, he stretched himself, yawned, looked up at the blue sky and climbed into the Dalmain.

108Several young women looked at him admiringly his six feet of wellproportioned body, his crisp hair, tanned face, and intensely blue eyes.

109He let in the clutch with a roar and leapt up the narrow street. Old men and errand boys jumped for safety. The latter looked after the car admiringly.

110Anthony Marston proceeded on his triumphal progress.

111VIII

112Mr. Blore was in the slow train from Plymouth. There was only one other person in his carriage, an elderly seafaring gentleman with a bleary eye. At the present moment he had dropped off to sleep.

113Mr. Blore was writing carefully in a little notebook. "That's the lot," he muttered to himself. "Emily Brent, Vera Claythorne, Dr.

114Armstrong, Anthony Marston, old Justice Wargrave, Philip Lombard, General

115Macarthur, C.M.G., D.S.O. Manservant and wife: Mr. and Mrs. Rogers. "

116He closed the notebook and put it back in his pocket. He glanced over at the corner and the slumbering man. "Had one over the eight." diagnosed Mr. Blore accurately. He went over things carefully and conscientiously in his mind. "Job ought to be easy enough," he ruminated. "Don't see how I can slip up on it.

117Hope I look all right. "

118He stood up and scrutinized himself anxiously in the glass. The face reflected there was of a slightly military cast with a moustache. There was very little expression in it. The eyes were grey and set rather close together. "Might be a Major," said Mr. Blore. "No, I forgot. There's that old military gent.

119He'd spot me at once. "South Africa," said Mr. Blore, "that's my line! None of these people have anything to do with South Africa, and I've just been reading that travel folder so

120I can talk about it all right. "

121Fortunately there were all sorts and types of colonials. As a man of means from

122South Africa, Mr. Blore felt that he could enter into any society unchallenged.

123Indian Island. He remembered Indian Island as a boy... Smelly sort of rock covered with gulls stood about a mile from the coast. It had got its name from its resemblance to a man's head an American Indian profile.

124Funny idea to go and build a house on it! Awful in bad weather! But millionaires were full of whims!

125The old man in the corner woke up and said: "You can't never tell at sea never!"

126Mr. Blore said soothingly, "That's right. You can't."

127The old man hiccuped twice and said plaintively: "There's a squall coming."

128Mr. Blore said: "No, no, mate, it's a lovely day."

129The old man said angrily: "There's a squall ahead. I can smell it." "Maybe you're right," said Mr. Blore pacifically.

130The train stopped at a station and the old fellow rose unsteadily. "Thish where I get out." He fumbled with the window. Mr. Blore helped him.

131The old man stood in the doorway. He raised a solemn hand and blinked his bleary eyes. "Watch and pray," he said. "Watch and pray. The day of judgement is at hand."

132He collapsed through the doorway onto the platform. From a recumbent position he looked up at Mr. Blore and said with immense dignity: "I'm talking to you, young man. The day of judgement is very close at hand."

133Subsiding onto his seat Mr. Blore thought to himself: "He's nearer the day of judgement than I am!"

134But there, as it happens, he was wrong...