The False Inspector Dew

the thought passed through her mind that Walter was facing the cold reality of their intention more realistically than she had dared as yet. To cover her unease she said flippantly, 'And we can't afford to take her with us.'

He turned and grasped her wrist. 'But we can! That's the answer, Alma. You've got it!'

'I don't see how.'

'We can tip her into the sea. Push her through a porthole after dark. She'll never be found.'

'But how would we get her aboard?'

He laughed. 'She'll walk. It's beautiful. You're a genius!'

'A very confused one at this moment,'

'I'll explain. Forget the other plan and listen to this. I'll tell Lydia that I refuse to go with her to America. She'll fly off the handle and tell me to go to the devil, because nothing will come between her and her wonderful future in films. She'll sell the house, my practice, my equipment, everything, and she'll be on the Mauretania on Saturday week. What she won't know is that you and I will also be aboard. I will have booked a passage in the second class under some other name.'

'For both of us?'

'No. You will stow away in my cabin.'

'Walter, I couldn't. I'm sure to be discovered.'

'I'm sure you won't be,' he said flatly. 'Don't forget I've been aboard an ocean liner before. On sailing day about a thousand friends and relatives crowd on board to see the passengers off. It's chaotic. Half an hour before sailing time they send round some boys with gongs to ask the visitors to go ashore, but there are always some who don't, because they know they can leave on the pilot tender or at Cherbourg. My dear, it's perfectly simple to stow away for the first hour or so, and that's all we need. After that you'll have a first-class stateroom of your own. You'll be Mrs Lydia Baranov.'

'Do you mean that you will have..?' Alma's voice faltered.

Walter nodded. He began to talk more rapidly as he convinced himself of the possibility of the new plan. 'Obviously it has to be done as soon as possible. I'll go to her stateroom with a bottle of highly concentrated chloroform ready in my pocket. When I knock, she'll be surprised to see me, but she'll admit me straight away. I'll push her face-down on the bed — physically she's no match for me — and chloroform her immediately. When I'm absolutely sure she's dead, I'll put her body somewhere.'

'Her cabin trunk!' said Alma excitedly.

'Perfect. It can wait there until it's dark enough to push her through the porthole. The Mauretania sails at noon, you see. Lunch is served at one, and you'll be in the first class dining room telling the steward that you are Mrs Lydia Baranov and you require a table for one. They'll accept it without question.'

'What will you be doing?'

'Sitting in Lydia's stateroom with the 'Do Not Disturb' notice on the door. The important thing is what you will be doing. You must establish yourself firmly as Lydia in the eyes of the passengers and crew. You can take a leisurely lunch and then talk to some other people over coffee in the lounge. Take a stroll on the promenade deck and see the deck steward to reserve a deckchair on the side facing the sun. Make sure that your name is clearly heard. Do you think you can do it?'

'I'm sure I can.'

'Good. Later in the afternoon, you can come to the stateroom and I'll let you in.'

'Darling, it's going to work!' She kissed his cheek and kept her head resting against his shoulder, it's so beautifully simple.'

Walter seemed reluctant to admit success yet. He talked on, refusing to let the rest of the plan speak for itself. Til give you the key to the stateroom, and then you can come and go as you please. But we must stay apart after that. You'll have to go to dinner and come late to bed. By then I will be gone and so will the body. I'll go back to my cabin in the second class and see you five days later in New York. I believe it will work.'

'I'm sure it will, my darling.'

'I venture to say that even our friend Dr Crippen would have seen the merit of a plan like this. No body in the cellar. No ridiculous disguises. And the whole thing paid for by my providential wife, the victim.' The ends of Walter's mouth widened into a modest smile.

'Have you thought of a name to use aboard the MauretaniaT Alma asked.

'Not yet. Something simple would be best. Come to think of it, my former name of Brown will do as well as any. I believe I know where I can get a passport made — an old friend of my father's, if he still has a steady hand. I'll look him up tomorrow.'

'Brown doesn't sound like a genuine name,' said Alma.

'But it is my own.'

'Dr Crippen called himself Robinson, and that didn't sound very convincing either.'

'What do you suggest, then?'

'Something short and simple, but uncommon.' She brought her hands together. 'I've got it!'

'Dew,' said Walter.

'Yes! You read my mind!'

'Walter Dew. By courtesy of Scotland Yard.' He began to chuckle, i rather like it. Who would be suspicious of a man called Walter Dew?'

He laughed out loud and Alma joined in. Their laughter carried down the terrace. There was a glorious sunset turning everything a deep, romantic red.

2

In her last week in London, Barbara stopped being natural. She turned chic. She went to Vasco's and had her amazing chestnut hair bobbed. The sides were set in permanent waves. She put chalk-white powder on her face and painted her lips bright crimson. She bought a moleskin shawl cape and five evening gowns at a store in Knightsbridge. By Friday she had worn them all and bought two more.

The turning-point had been the lecture by Dr Bertrand Russell. Barbara had gone straight from the lecture hall to the hairdresser's. Her mother Marjorie was astounded by the transformation. She had a double brandy and decided it was the best thing that had happened on the trip. She said to Livy that there must be something in philosophy. Livy had a different theory. He said he guessed Paul Westerfield had shown more interest in the lecture than in Barbara.

'If she's going after Paul,' said Marjorie, 'she's playing a very deep game. She has a date this afternoon with a guy named Forbes.'

Forbes took Barbara to a tea dance at the Cafe de Paris, where she met Arnold, who wore a monocle and was much more entertaining. Arnold treated her to cakes and iced coffee at the Grafton Galleries, where there were pictures covered with tissue paper to spare the blushes of young ladies like herself. A black band played jazz until 2am and Arnold tried to one-step and nudged a woman with his elbow. She spilt her iced coffee down the trousers of her partner and Arnold used the tissue cover from a picture to mop it up. While this was happening a young man called Rex told Barbara that she was the loveliest creature his eyes had ever lighted on.

Rex was very passionate. Over lunch in Claridges next day he threatened suicide if Barbara would not make him happy in the suite he had reserved upstairs. To convince her he took a silver revolver from his pocket and placed it on the table. Barbara kept cool. She was chic but she was not available. She picked up the revolver and dropped it in the champagne bucket. Arnold told her later that Rex was famous for producing his revolver in Claridges.

Twice that week Barbara passed Paul Westerfield in the lobby of the Savoy. The first time she was with Forbes and the second time with Arnold. These chance encounters had a positive effect on Paul. On Friday morning he stopped her on the staircase to the dining room. He said her hairstyle was a knockout. He asked her if she had made arrangements for that evening.

Barbara answered that a friend had mentioned something at the Cafe Royal, but she wasn't too excited by it.