The False Inspector Dew

'I can't alter what already happened, Mother. I played cards with Katherine on the evening she was killed. I'm sure to have to answer questions about that.'

'Livy and I wouldn't want to see your name in the newspapers. If that Inspector asks you anything, keep it short, huh?'

'There isn't much that I could tell him. He'll hear it all from Paul and Jack anyway. Her murder couldn't have anything to do with the card game, so don't fret about it.'

'You can't say for sure,' said Manorie. 'This Jack Gordon — what do you really know about him? He could be the strangler.'

'Mother, that's ridiculous.'

'Believe me, Barbara, I've had three husbands and I know a few things about men.' She checked that Livy's eyes were closed. 'They can be perfect gentlemen as far as anyone can see, but get them alone with a helpless woman and they turn into monsters. Some of them, anyhow.' She glanced at Livy again. 'Men have to be house-trained like any other animal or they go for you. It wouldn't surprise me at all if your nice English friend Mr Gordon turns out to be the murderer.'

'I guess it has to be someone unexpected,' said Barbara.

'Yeah,' said Livy without opening his eyes. 'Have you thought of Paul?'

2

The ship's doctor looked up from his notes to see his next patient.

'Inspector. Do come in. I thought you wanted treatment. What can I do for you?'

Walter hesitated. 'Actually, I would like to consult you, doctor.'

'Of course. I'm at your service. Is it about my examination of the body?'

'No. It's about my thumb. I seem to have injured it.'

'Really? Let's have a look. How did this happen?'

'This morning after breakfast I made an examination of the dead woman's stateroom.'

'Ah,' said the doctor, 'don't tell me. You wanted to see whether the body had been pushed through the porthole, so you tried to open it. You're suffering from porthole thumb, Inspector. Next to mal de mer it's the commonest complaint we get. You should have asked a steward to do the job. Much easier. They carry port keys for the purpose. Does this hurt?'

'A little.'

'Can you straighten it?'

'I think so.'

'Very good. It's only a sprain. I'll give you a fingerstall if you like, but it wouldn't aid the healing. So you think the murderer pushed the body through the porthole. Perhaps you should be looking for another fellow with an injured thumb.'

'No,' said Walter, 'it's not so simple. Some of the portholes were already open when we came on board. I particularly noticed that.'

'That's Scotland Yard training,' said the doctor admiringly. 'Far be it from me to presume to tell you your job, Inspector. Did you find anything of interest in the stateroom?'

'Very little. Plenty of clothes. A few bottles of scent.'

'No jewellery?'

'No,' said Walter. 'No jewellery.' He groomed his moustache with his good hand.

'It is a point,' said the doctor. 'If her jewellery had been stolen, would that provide you with a motive?'

'I suppose it might.'

'The reason I mentioned jewellery was that when the captain asked me to examine the body, I found the mark of a ring on the third finger of the left hand.'

'Perhaps it came off in the water.'

'The wedding finger, Inspector,' said the doctor with significance.

'She was not married,' said Walter. 'I've seen her passport. She was definitely Miss Katherine Masters.'

'I assure you I wasn't mistaken. I'll show you if you like.'

'No, no. That won't be necessary,' said Walter. A smile dawned slowly on his face. 'Perhaps it was an engagement ring.'

'That's possible, I suppose,' conceded the doctor, but he sounded sceptical. 'It is my opinion that Miss Masters was not without experience of men, Inspector.'

'You don't say,' said Walter. 'Did you meet this lady?'

The doctor was beginning to be puzzled by the Inspector's train of thought. 'No, I did not. I made an intimate examination for evidence of assault.'

'Oh. I understand you now.'

'My opinion is that she had not been sexually assaulted.'

'Quite right,' said Walter. 'We can do without another motive for the crime.'

'I was going to add that the evidence suggests that she was married.'

'Or should have been,' said Walter. 'One ought to make allowance for the war.'

'The war?'

'It changed the world, doctor. The end of innocence.'

'True.'

'I don't defend it.'

'Good Lord, no,' said the doctor not wishing to be controversial. 'Inspector, there is something else I ought to bring to your attention.'

'About my injury?'

'No, no. Another matter. It may not be significant, but I think I ought to tell you. As you know, we placed Miss Masters' body in the storeroom designated as a mortuary, below the passenger accommodation in the lower orlop.'

'Yes.'

'The room is locked, and we keep the key up here with the keys to the medical rooms and cupboards. I have an orderly in charge of them. On Sunday we were very busy here with the usual things — seasickness and sore thumbs. I had two nurses and the orderlyion duty with me. At some stage of the evening a passenger — a man — came into the office outside and told the orderly that he needed the key to the storeroom where the body is. He said something about being asked to help with the identification.'

'Did he get the key?'

'Yes, he did. My orderly that evening was a young fellow by the name of Topley. This is his first crossing. He's keen to please, but none too bright. He handed over the key, and he says he can't remember what the fellow looked like. I only found this out because at the end of the evening the key wasn't on its usual hook. Topley went down to look for it and found it in the lock.'

'The passenger didn't bring it back after he borrowed it?' said Walter.'That's a bit off.'

The doctor gave him a searching look. 'The point is that he went down there without anyone's authority. The captain didn't sanction it and nor did the master-at-arms. Why should a passenger do a thing like that?'

'I was about to ask the same question,' said Walter.

'You can talk to Topley if you wish. I don't think you'll get much out of him.'

'I'll save my breath,' said Walter. 'Thank you for mentioning it, however.' He looked at his injured thumb and tried to move it. 'There's some mobility returning. I don't think I'll bother with the fingerstall.'

'Aren't you going to ask me about the bruising?'

Walter turned his hand over and studied it.

'The bruising on the woman's neck,' said the doctor with a trace of petulance. 'I was the first to notice it.'

'Congratulations,' said Walter.

'She was definitely strangled, Inspector. The marks are consistent with manual strangulation.'

'Yes,' said Walter. "Very unpleasant. And rather crude. Murder need not be so brutal. Well, it's nearly lunchtime. Thank you for your diagnosis.'

Alone in his office, the doctor pondered the secret of Inspector Dew's success. He seemed to have the gift of eliciting information without asking for it. His style of questioning was so oblique that it made you forget he was a policeman. Of course, he had retired from Scotland Yard before the war. He was either out of touch or devilishly clever. The doctor had not decided which.

3

In the sunshine on the promenade deck Alma's nervous intimations of the previous night made her feel ashamed. She had been overwrought. She needed to relax. She had under-estimated the tension that the murder had inflicted on them both. In Walter's case it was excusable because there were pressures on him still. Hers had lifted. She ought to be behaving like any other passenger. So when a steward mentioned that the Berengaria had been sighted, she joined the gathering along the starboard side to watch the great Cunarders pass each other.