The False Inspector Dew

'I was totally taken up with my own foolheaded mood, Barbara. I won't forgive myself for that. Thank God your screams were heard. Are you really unhurt apart from the bruising?'

'Yes. It wasn't much.'

'It must have been terrifying for you. Appalling. Who would have thought that Jack Gordon would turn out to be the strangler? I took him for a typical English gentleman. It's incredible after he behaved so well over my billfold. It beats me, Barbara, it really does.'

'It was difficult for me to understand.'

'Yes, what made him choose you as his victim?'

Marjorie could not contain herself at this. She said acidly, 'For heaven's sake, how would Barbara know the answer to that?'

Paul blushed deeply. 'What I meant to say is that I can think of no possible reason why he should want to attack Barbara.'

'You can't?' said Marjorie. 'Don't you have a pair of eyes in your head?'

Now it was Barbara's turn to blush. She said, 'Mother, will you stop saying things that embarrass me? Paul has come here with the very sweetest motives and brought me these beautiful candies, and you have to spoil it by yapping at him.'

It was a significant moment in Marjorie's relationship with her daughter. For the first time, she admitted that she was at fault, i'm sorry — I spoke out of turn. I guess I'm a little overwrought about what happened last night.'

'I guess we all are,' said Paul. 'Barbara, with all this happening I'm sure you won't have been thinking about tonight. It's a fancy dress ball. If you feel well enough to come, nothing would make me happier than to escort you.'

'You're quite right,' said Barbara, it went out of my mind. Yes, it'll do me good to think about something else. I'd love to be your partner.'

12

When Walter left the cells he was confident of finding his way up to the passenger accommodation. He was sure that he remembered the route through the lower decks that Mr Saxon had used to bring him down. It was a mystery to him exactly where he went wrong, but in a matter of a few minutes he admitted to himself that he was lost. He could not even tell fore from aft. Where he expected to find companionways there were bulkheads. Worse, this section of the ship was apparently uninhabited.

He tried a door, hoping to find stairs to the deck above. There was a spiral staircase, but it led down to what was evidently one of the main holds. It was as big as a warehouse and stacked high with boxes and crates containing stores of food. He moved through that into a second hold. It smelt so strongly of oil that he supposed he must have reached the engine-room until he saw a line of motor-cars ranged before him, roped to the deck and secured with wooden blocks under the wheels. One was a brand new Lanchester saloon. Walter liked cars. He had always wanted to own a Lanchester. He tried the driver's door and found it open. He got inside and put his hands on the steering wheel. With the steady drone of the Mauretania's turbines somewhere below him, it was easy to imagine that the car was in motion, zooming through country lanes. He sounded the horn. It was a beautiful vehicle, inside and out.

Someone jerked open the door and shouted as if Walter were deaf, 'What the hell do you think you're doing?'

Walter took stock. The man was dressed in an overall. It was a very large overall, open at the chest because he was so broad that there was no possibility of the buttons meeting the holes intended for them. The gap was filled by a crop of black hair extending upwards in amazing exuberance to the top of his head, with only a nose and a pair of fierce brown eyes to indicate that this was an example of homo sapiens.

Walter said, 'Ah, you heard me signalling, then. Very good.'

The man in the overall said, 'Get out of that car.'

Walter obeyed. He was six foot tall himself, but he only came up to the shoulder of the overalls. He said, 'Chief Inspector Dew, late Scotland Yard.' When this seemed to make no impression he added, 'Investigations. Captain's orders. Do you happen to know who owns this vehicle?'

The man shook his head.

'It ought to be locked,' said Walter, it really ought to be locked.' He walked round to the back of the Lanchester and tried the handle of the luggage compartment. It opened, i don't like to see valuable property improperly secured.' He slammed the lid down, i'll have to report this. Which is the quickest way up to the bridge from here?'

The man pointed to a door and Walter nodded and went through it without another word being passed between them.

13

By noon, when the ship's whistle sent vibrations through the upper decks, there was standing room only in the smoking room, and not much of that. The announcement of the number of miles covered in the previous twenty-four hours aroused extraordinary excitement each day, not from pride in the Mauretania's performance so much as interest in the outcome of the auction pool. The passengers' anticipation had been fuelled after dinner the previous evening when the auction of the twenty numbers had raised thousands of dollars, spurred on by a personable chairman and attentive smoking room stewards, who took ten per cent of the winnings.

Johnny Finch was in possession of a number, a fancied number from the centre of the range, 540 miles. He had paid almost as many dollars for it in the auction, i splash out once a crossing,' he confided to Alma, who had come out of curiosity to hear the announcement. 'Never won yet, but never had the nerve before now to pay a top price for a really good number. My right ear-lobe has been itching like the devil, and that's a very reliable omen.'

Alma glanced at his ear. It certainly looked more pink than the other one. 'Perhaps it has something to do with your morning walk round the promenade deck,' she suggested. 'That ear is more exposed to the sea-wind. Why don't you try going clockwise for a change?'

Johnny laughed. 'Because then I wouldn't have a lucky ear. Alma, my dear, I never met anyone so solemn as you, and it's such enormous fun. Win or lose, I'm going to crack a bottle of fizz with you tonight and see if I can't make you laugh.'

'I'm not much of a drinker,' said Alma doubtfully.

'It shouldn't take much then,' said Johnny, with a wink, followed by a deft change of subject: 'I hear that the strangler's still at large.'

'I thought they caught someone attacking an American girl last night.'

'They did, but it was all a mistake. Inspector Dew spent the morning questioning the chap and now he's released him. It wasn't the strangler after all. I hope Dew knows what he's doing.'

'So do I.' Alma spoke from the heart, though without much confidence. She had the petrifying suspicion that Walter had set a killer loose out of some peculiar sense of fair play. What would he do if she were attacked tonight?

The chairman of the auction pool was beating the mahogany table with his gavel. Something close to silence descended on the smoking room. Fingers were crossed and private prayers sent up. Syndicates clustered in whispering groups, making final checks of the numbers they held. Individual possessors of numbers, like Johnny, knew theirs by heart.

'My lords, ladies and gentlemen, the officer of the watch has just sent down from the bridge this note of the number of sea miles the Mauretania has travelled since mid-day yesterday. I understand that there is a certain amount of interest in the information.'

'Get on with it!' came a shout from the back.

'Five hundred and fifty!' shouted someone else, and there was pandemonium as numbers were suggested from all over the room.

The chairman knocked on the table for order. He took another look at the sheet of paper in his hand. 'The winning number is five hundred and forty '

'By God — it's mine!' said Johnny in a gasp.