And Then There Were Fewer

28. The Epilogue

Thomas Andrews and Detective Scott sitting together, looking puzzled.

"But the whole thing's incredible! Fourteen people dead on a island and not a living soul on it! It doesn't make sense! Somebody must have killed them! Nothing helpful from the doctor's report?" Andrews said.

"No sir." Scott reading off paper. "Hudson and Puckerman were shot, the first through the head and the second through the heart. Miss Cohen-Chang, Miss Jones and Chang died of cyanide poisoning. Mr. Kurt Hummel-Anderson and Mrs. Brittany Lopez-Pierce died of an overdose of chloral. Mr. Blaine Hummel-Anderson head was split open. Evans's and Mrs. Santana Lopez-Pierce head was crushed in. Abrams died of drowning. Mr. Karofsky's skull was fractured from a blow to the back of the head, and Miss Fabray was hanged." Scott say.

"Nasty business – all of it. Do you mean to say that you haven't been able to get anything out of the local people? They must know something!" Andrews said.

Scotts shrugs. "They're ordinary decent seafaring folk. They know that the beach was bought by a man called Weston – and that's about all they know."

"Who made all the necessary arrangements?" Scott asked.

"July. Someone called July. But she's dead." Andrews said.

"Do we know anything about her?" Scott asked.

"Oh, we know about her all right. She wasn't a very savory woman. She was implicated in that share-pushing fraud – we're sure of that even though we can't prove it. And she was mixed up in the dope business. And again we can't prove it. She was a very careful woman." Andrews said.

"And she was behind this beach business?" Scott asked.

"Yes, sir, he put through the sale – though she made it clear she was buying thebeach for a third party." Andrews said.

"Surely there's something to be found in the financial angle?" Scott said.

"Not if you knew July! She can wangle figures until the best chartered accountant in the country wouldn't know head or tail of it. No, she covered his employer's tracks all right. It was July who made all the arrangements down at Far Rockaway. Represented herself as acting for Mr. Weston. And it was she who explained to the people down there that there was some experiment on – some bet about living on a desert beach for a week – and that no notice was to be taken of any appeal for help from out there." Andrews said.

"And they didn't smell a rat?" Scott asked.

"You're forgetting that Atlantic Beach had hosted the most extraordinary parties there. I think they've gotten used to unusual happenings there." Andrews reply.

"Yes, that's true." Scott said.

"Fred Narracott – the bus driver – did say something illuminating. He said he was surprised to see the type of people. He said they were not like previous parties. I think it was the fact that they were all so normal and so quiet that made him override July's commands and take out a bus to the island after he'd heard the SOS signals." Andrews said.

"When did he and the other men go?" Scott said.

"The signals were seen by a party of boy scouts on the morning of the 11th. There was no possibility of getting out there that day. The men got there on the afternoon of the 12th at the first moment possible. They're all positive that nobody could have left the beach before they got there. There was a big sea on after the storm. And nobody could swim ashore because it's over a mile to the coast and there were heavy seas and big breakers inshore. And there were people looking out towards the beach and watching." Andrews said.

"What about the phone record you found in the house? Couldn't you get hold of anything there that might help?" Scott said.

"I've been into that. It was supplied by a theatrical firm and sent to Weston, Esq., c/o Cassandra July, and was understood to be required for the amateur performance of a hitherto unacted play. The typescript was returned with the record." Andrews said.