"It is true, is it not, that you were going to marry the girl Marie, and that she broke it off when she discovered that you were a married man already?"
"What business was it of hers?"
"You mean, what business was it of Mrs Doyle's?
Well, you know, bigamy is bigamy."
"It wasn't like that.
I married one of the locals out here. It didn't answer.
She went back to her people.
I've not seen her for half a dozen years."
"Still you were married to her."
The man was silent.
Race went on:
"Mrs Doyle, or Miss Ridgeway as she then was, found out all this?"
"Yes, she did, curse her!
Nosing about where no one ever asked her to.
I'd have treated Marie right.
I'd have done anything for her.
And she'd never have known about the other, if it hadn't been for that meddlesome young lady of hers.
Yes, I'll say it, I did have a grudge against the lady, and I felt bitter about it when I saw her on this boat, all dressed up in pearls and diamonds and lording it all over the place, with never a thought that she'd broken up a man's life for him!
I felt bitter all right, but if you think I'm a dirty murderer - if you think I went and shot her with a gun, well, that's a damned lie!
I never touched her.
And that's God's truth."
He stopped.
The sweat was rolling down his face.
"Where were you last night between the hours of twelve and two?"
"In my bunk asleep - and my mate will tell you so."
"We shall see," said Race.
He dismissed him with a curt nod. "That'll do."
"Eh bien?" inquired Poirot as the door closed behind Fleetwood.
Race shrugged his shoulders.
"He tells quite a straight story.
He's nervous, of course, but not unduly so.
We'll have to investigate his alibi - though I don't suppose it will be decisive.
His mate was probably asleep, and this fellow could have slipped in and out if he wanted to.
It depends whether anyone else saw him."
"Yes, one must inquire as to that."
"The next thing, I think," said Race, "is whether anyone heard anything which might give us a clue to the time of the crime.
Bessner places it as having occurred between twelve and two.
It seems reasonable to hope that someone among the passengers may have heard the shot - even if they did not recognize it for what it was.
I didn't hear anything of the kind myself.
What about you?"
Poirot shook his head.
"Me, I slept absolutely like the log.
I heard nothing - but nothing at all.
I might have been drugged, I slept so soundly."
"A pity," said Race. "Well, let's hope we have a bit of luck with the people who have cabins on the starboard side.
Fanthorp we've done.
The Allertons come next.
I'll send the steward to fetch them."
Mrs Allerton came in briskly.
She was wearing a soft grey striped silk dress.