The False Inspector Dew

you will forgive me for declining your invitation.'

Johnny blinked. 'Oh my word, what have I said? Dear Mrs Baranov, I must have given you quite the wrong impression. The matter I mentioned is not of a personal character at all. I'm not the sort of fellow ladies often take me for. This is a matter of public interest, I assure you. It concerns the unfortunate business of the lady who was taken from the sea last night.'

Alma stiffened. Her heartbeat quickened. She needed all her strength to keep a semblance of control. She said, 'That's another matter, I agree, but it is not a very suitable topic for a conversation over dinner.'

Johnny looked disappointed. 'I can't dispute that.'

'Anyway,' added Alma, 'I don't see how it could possibly concern me.'

'Only insofar as it concerns every unaccompanied lady on this ship,' said Johnny with an air of nonchalance that did not deceive Alma. 'But as you obviously prefer not to discuss it ' He held out his hands in a gesture of indifference.

'Will it wait till after dinner in the lounge?'

He gave a smile. 'I'll reserve a chair for you.'

'You see,' he told her an hour later as coffee was poured for them at a table discreetly situated behind a potted palm, 'there is a certain amount of concern among the passengers about the way the inquiry into this unhappy incident is being conducted. There is a feeling that the master-at-arms — who I am sure is perfectly conscientious — is not going about the job in the most effective way. From what one hears, he is rapidly burying himself under a mass of statements, while nothing definite is being done to establish who the woman was and how she met her death. There are disquieting rumours that she was murdered.'

'So I heard,' said Alma, 'but it's only talk I expect.'

'I hope you are right,' said Johnny. 'The talk is pretty general through the ship. People are frightened, my dear. They have no confidence that Mr Saxon can protect them. Unaccompanied ladies such as yourself are entitled to protection.'

'Oh,' said Alma, trying to conceal her relief. She had read in Ethel M. Dell — or was it Elinor Glyn? — about would-be Lotharios who offered to guard the virtue of gullible females travelling alone. 'I don't feel the need of any protection, thank you.'

Johnny's wrinkles twisted into a pained expression again. 'You are missing the point, my dear. My purpose in speaking is to ask you if you wish to join the deputation.'

'Deputation?'

'Of passengers united by their concern. There are twenty or more of us already, mostly men. We need a lady to put the feminine point of view. I thought of you.'

'No,' said Alma firmly, 'not me.'

'Why not? The captain is only human. He can't eat us.'

'I don't see any point in it. What do you hope to achieve?'

'I was coming to that,' said Johnny, i don't know if I mentioned that this is by no means confined to the upper decks. We have chaps from the second class and the steerage just as bothered as you or I about the way this is being handled. And they have passed the word up that by sheer good fortune there is a passenger in the second class who is far better qualified to investigate a mysterious death than Saxon. Even you must have heard of him — Inspector Dew of Scotland Yard.'

7

Captain Rostron put his hand on Mr Saxon's shoulder, it would be no discredit,' he assured his master-at- arms. 'Nobody could fault the work you've already done to solve the crime. All those statements — sure to be invaluable. It's just the fact that Inspector Dew — if this is indeed the man — is a specialist in murder.' He smiled, i ought to say the detection of murder. He had twenty years or more at Scotland Yard.'

'Yes, Captain,' said Mr Saxon in a voice that was not impressed.

'That ought to count for something,' said the captain. 'Murder is regarded in the police as a matter for the experts, is it not? Did you, er, come across many cases when you were a policeman in the Port of London, before you came to Cunard?'

Mr Saxon's mouth tightened. He shook his head, it was mainly customs offences, sir. I'm confident that I can cope with this.'

'Yes,' said Captain Rostron. 'You've made that clear. Mr Saxon, it isn't just a question of finding a murderer. It's just as important to show the passengers that we have their welfare very much in mind. This suggestion that we employ the services of Dew originated with the passengers. I can't ignore it, can I? It's a question of confidence, you see.'

'We don't even know if he is the Scotland Yard man,' put in Mr Saxon.

'That is one of the matters I propose to clarify. The other is whether he is willing to help. He may not be too pleased with the suggestion. He retired from Scotland Yard before the war.'

Mr Saxon looked more hopeful. 'He might prefer to act as my assistant, sir.'

The captain looked dubious, i don't think I can ask a man of Dew's reputation to be subordinate to you. And I think the passengers would be happier to be told that he was in control. But let's not jump to any conclusions, Mr Saxon. I simply wanted you to know the possibilities. I take it that I can rely on your cooperation whatever the outcome?'

'Yes, sir,' answered Mr Saxon flatly.

'I shall want you here to say as much if necessary, but say nothing until I ask you.' The captain reached for his jacket and put it on. 'He should be outside with the junior third officer. Be so good as to ask him to step inside, will you?'

The man who came in was tall enough to be a policeman. He was old enough to be a retired policeman. He had the heavy black moustache just familiar from the press pictures of Inspector Dew bringing Crippen and Le Neve off the ship to face their trial.

But today he looked more like the quarry than the sleuth. His eyes raced across the office as if searching for a means of escape.

Captain Rostron was on his feet and holding out his hand. 'So good of you to come and see us, Mr Dew. No point in introducing ourselves. I'm sure you know who we are, and we're pretty sure we know who you are.' The captain grinned as he spoke. He almost winked.

Walter stared glassily back.

'Let's all sit down,' suggested the captain, waving his guest towards a chair and perching himself on the edge of his great mahogany desk for informality. Saxon found a chair beside the door. 'I'm not one to beat about the bush,' said the captain. 'I haven't asked you here for cocktails, Mr Dew — if I may call you that — as interesting as that might be. As you know, we took a woman from the sea last night and she was dead, poor soul. You have heard about that?'

'Yes,' said Walter almost in a whisper.

'Mr Saxon over there took over. It's the master-at-arms who gets the job of inquiring into anything irregular while we're at sea. Mr Saxon was in the police, weren't you, Mr Saxon?'

'In the docks,' said Mr Saxon. 'Port of London.'

'He's very good with stowaways and smugglers, but suspicious deaths are something else. I'm confiding in you now, Mr Dew. I said suspicious deaths.'

Walter nodded gravely.

'Certain information has been laid before me,' Captain Rostron went on, 'information concerning you. It may be a mistake, of course. Coincidences happen. But if it isn't a mistake, you are the one man on the Mauretania who can help us with our inquiries.' He paused to see the effect of this.

Walter was looking down at his hands. They were shaking.

'You are Chief Inspector Dew, formerly of Scotland Yard?' said the captain a little less confidently.

Walter looked up. He looked at the captain. He looked at Mr Saxon. 'What is this about?'