She had forgotten about the press and looked nervously around the reception area but there was not a camera in sight.

She walked through to the bar, wishing she had a tape recorder. Even if Olivia confessed, what proof would there be?

But Agatha did not feel like turning back now. She felt that unless these murders were solved, she would be stuck in north Cyprus for months.

Olivia was not in the bar. Agatha ordered coffee for two. And waited. After ten minutes, when she was just about to phone Olivia’s room, Olivia entered.

“Sit down,” said Agatha, “and have some coffee.” Agatha looked around. A couple were having coffee some distance away and the waiters were busy arranging cakes in the cold shelf.

“This is very kind of you, Agatha,” said Olivia with such sincerity that Agatha decided she must have made some dreadful mistake. A bright flash of lightning lit up the room and someone screamed outside in the corridor. Then a great clap of thunder seemed to rock the hotel to its foundations. Rain streamed down the plate-glass windows.

Weakly Agatha felt she should write out a cheque, hand it over and forget about the whole thing. But something made her say, “No knitting today, Olivia?”

“It’s up in my room,” said Olivia. “My knitting gets on George’s nerves. He says I remind him of Madame Defarge.”

And then Agatha found her courage. She would never forgive herself if she did not try.

She asked quietly, “It would be better to get it out, Olivia. You can’t go on living like this.”

Olivia stared at her, her coffee-cup half-way to her lips.

“What are you talking about, Agatha?”

“Those knitting needles, steel knitting needles, sharp steel knitting needles, Olivia. And you used to be a nurse. I think you had one in your handbag the night we went to the disco. I think you killed Rose.”

“You’ve gone mad,” said Olivia, putting down her cup with an angry click in its saucer and gathering up her handbag.

“I have not yet told my suspicions to the police. But I’ll bet one of those needles has been sharpened and I bet you’ve still got it,” said Agatha desperately.

Olivia slowly sat down. Another flash of lightning, another clap of thunder.

She stared at Agatha.

“Why?” asked Agatha. “Rose was a flirt, but apart from that time I saw them chatting on Turtle Beach, there was nothing really to make you jealous, was there?”

“You weren’t with us that day we went to Othello’s Tower,” said Olivia wearily. She put her head in her hands. “Rose was everything I despised-vulgar, raucous, pushing. George laughed at all her awful remarks, but that wasn’t all. When we were about to go to bed that night, George suddenly said he wanted to go out for a walk. I said I would go with him and he shouted he wanted to be alone.

“I waited a minute or so and then I followed him. He was walking quickly towards the harbour but he never turned round, so I was able to keep him in sight. He went right to the end past the fish restaurants and turned up that road which leads up to thé town from the end. It was deserted, so I walked slowly, keeping to the shadows. The road curves round to the right, but there’s a black patch of scrub off to the left. I heard them before I saw them. Rose was against the wall, her skirt hitched up and he was having her, my George. I felt sick.”

“What did they say when you confronted them?” asked Agatha.

“I didn’t. And I didn’t say anything to George either when he returned. I was frightened he would leave me. You see, I lied to you. I knew all along about the financial mess we were in. You shocked me because Pamir said nothing to me and so I thought the police didn’t know about the debts. I knew that slut had probably marked him down as her next husband to spite me. She was everything I had ever despised. What would our friends say? The shame would have been dreadful. I sharpened up that knitting needle and put it in my bag and waited for my chance. And that chance came at the disco. I felt nothing but a tremendous relief that she was gone.”

“But didn’t George guess anything?”

“Not a thing. I kept close to the others afterwards because I began to be terrified of being found out. And then you óame poking around. I knew you were going to Saint Hilarión. I actually passed James, would you believe it? He was sitting with his eyes closed. When I didn’t manage to get rid of you, I managed to hide on the hillside until the fuss died down.”

“How did you get into my room that night?”

“I heard you book a room and picked the lock of the maid’s closet on our landing and took the passkey and replaced it the next day. Why did you have to interfere?”

“And why Harry? Did he find out?”

“Stupid old Harry couldn’t believe any wrong of me. But he got drunk and sentimental and said he had left me everything in his will. I saw how George and I could stick it out and return to our old life. At Salamis, I said to Harry if he met me on the beach, I would give him a kiss. The besotted old fool got so excited, I thought he might have a heart attack and save me the trouble, but he was there when I escaped from the others. I suggested we lie down like lovers on the sand. And then I stabbed him and put the newspaper over his face. No, the needle is not in my room. I buried it in the sand.”

“But why didn’t you just ask Harry for the money to bail you out? I’m sure he would have given it to you.”

“George doesn’t know that I learned a while ago about the mess we were in. George is a gentleman; he has his pride. He would be furious if I took money from a friend because he could not manage his affairs. You don’t understand people like us, Agatha. We come from a different world.”

“A world in which your husband screws Rose with one eye on her money? Some gentleman! Come on, Olivia. What on earth possessed a sensible woman like you to do such a dreadful thing?”

“You don’t know what love is,” jeered Olivia. “I’ve seen you running after James like some old dog looking for a pat from its master. I love George. Without him, my life would have been nothing. The Roses of this world are expendable.”

“We’d better go to the police,” said Agatha heavily. “I’ll come with you.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, dear? Your little moment of Girls’ Own glory. ‘Brave Agatha of the Upper Sixth solves the mystery when police were baffled.’ But you’re not going to.”

. “You can’t very well stick a knitting needle in me here,” said Agatha. “People about.”

“Do you think I’m going to leave my George with all the shame of being married to a murderess? You’ve no proof, and you never will have!”

Olivia rose suddenly and turned and ran out of the bar, leaving her handbag on the table. Taken aback for only a moment, Agatha recovered and then leaped to her feet and set off in pursuit. Olivia was heading for the pool area. Blinded by the rain, Agatha ran hard after her.

Olivia veered round the pool and jumped straight into the boiling sea.

“Olivia!” screamed Agatha.

She ran to the edge and crouched down, peering through the torrent of rain. Olivia’s head appeared between two huge waves and then she struck out strongly, swimming away from the shore.

Agatha screamed and screamed, but the rolls of thunder drowned out her voice.

A watery shaft of sunlight shone briefly down through the black clouds and Agatha saw Olivia’s head rise above a wave and then she disappeared.

Agatha turned and ran back to the hotel, shouting for help.

An hour later she was huddled in a blanket in the manager’s office when Pamir came in. He stood for a moment looking down at her, and then said, “No sign of her. Again I ask you, Mrs. Raisin: Why did you not call us first?”

“Because I had no proof! I told you!”

“But now, because of you, we definitely have no proof, and we have only your word for it.”