The False Inspector Dew

by Peter Lovesey

  Alma froze. She looked up at the amiably interested face like a startled rabbit unable to bolt, fixed in a fatal hypnotic stare.

  'I'm so sorry,' said the man. 'Obviously I've made a mistake. I saw the name on the passenger list and thought it was familiar. I'm sure there was a frightfully attractive actress of that name who used to play in Pinero's things before the war. I do apologise.'

  'Don't.' By an effort she had not known she could muster, Alma unlocked her voice. 'You are not mistaken. My mind was on other things. I don't expect to be recognized these days.'

  'Really?' He looked genuinely surprised. 'Aren't you still on the stage?'

  'Not for quite some time, Mr…'

  'Oh. Finch. John Finch. An absolute nonentity, Miss Baranov. Simply one of the public who likes to visit the theatre. In fact, my friends call me Johnny. Stage door Johnny, d'you see? Look here, I'm probably a dreadful old bore, but I hate to see a lady sitting alone in a restaurant, especially when I know she's one of the loveliest actresses to grace the English stage.'

  'I prefer to have a table to myself,' said Alma, i'm perfectly happy, thank you.'

  The creases re-formed into a look of abject desolation. 'Oh dear. I've said the wrong thing. Stage door Johnny. It's only a name my friends used once in fun. It stuck. The truth is that I'm not that sort of chap at all. Very retiring by nature. I can't tell you what an effort it was to overcome my timidity enough to approach you. Won't you come and sit at my table for this meal only? I believe I'm sharing it with some Americans. I'm sure they would love to meet you.'

  Alma had the clear impression that Johnny Finch would not be put off. He would keep coming back whatever she said. After the first shock, she was beginning to sense that he knew very little about Lydia. He was like the velvet-tongued men who used to come into the flower shop and conjure an acquaintance out of the brooches she wore or the way she spoke. She thought she could handle him. She said, 'I will come to your table on one condition, Mr Finch — that we do not talk about the theatre. It's a closed chapter in my life, and a painful one.'

  His face lit up. 'Miss Baranov, it will be a privilege to eat with you whatever we find to talk about. My table is over there against the wall.'

  'Before we join the others, I ought to mention that Baranov is the name of my husband, not my father,' said Alma as she rose to follow him.

  She watched the information sink in. Johnny Finch was not very quick. He said, i see,' in a way that showed he did not until after the words were spoken.

  Alma felt reassured. She was actually rather relieved to leave her solitary table.

  On the other side of the restaurant Paul Westerfield was telling the Livingstone Cordells that his billfold was safe.

  'I knew it would turn up,' said Marjorie. 'The kind of people who travel first class are respectful of property. We've never lost a thing in all our trips to Europe.'

  'Picked up a few items,' said Livy straight-faced.

  'You should be careful what you say,' Marjorie told him. 'People will take you seriously.' She turned back to Paul. 'There's no reason now why you shouldn't enjoy yourself for the rest of the crossing. Will you be staying in here for the dancing? I believe they have an excellent tempo — wouldn't you say, Barbara?'

  Barbara gave a small shrug. 'It's all right.'

  'Matter of fact, I promised a couple of drinks to the guy who handed in my billfold, so I'll be heading for the lounge,' said Paul, i haven't forgotten your money, Mr Cordell.'

  'Nor me, son,' said Livy.

  'I guess this isn't the place to hand it over.'

  'I'm not particular,' said Livy.

  Marjorie made a sound of exasperation. 'Livy, this is a public restaurant. Leave it till later. Have you got a table, Mr Westerfield? You know we'd be delighted if you would join us.'

  Paul explained that he had a place reserved with some friends of his father's. He said it was time that he joined them. He wished the Cordells a good meal and moved rapidly away.

  'That's gratitude!' said Marjorie acidly.

  'You're crowding the boy,' Livy told her. 'Give him some breathing space. He'll be back.'

  'Yes, Mother,' said Barbara. 'Livy's right. I'm getting pretty damn tired of you trying to force Paul to take an interest in me. Why can't you leave us alone?'

  Marjorie clicked her teeth, i will, if that's what you want. I wasn't doing it for my own amusement, you know.'

  There was not much more conversation at their table that evening.

  Towards the end of the meal one of the ship's officers got up to announce that it was customary on the first evening at sea to select three chairmen from among the passengers. As most of those present had crossed in the other direction, and many were regular ocean travellers, the choice was swiftly made. They chose the president of the Chase Manhattan Bank as Chairman of the auction pool. The Wimbledon singles champion, Bill Tilden, was persuaded to chair the sports committee. An Italian tenor on his way to the new season at the Met was nominated concert chairman.

  'How can he be concert chairman?' asked Johnny Finch. 'He can't speak a word of English. By God, if I were free to make a nomination'

  'You're not,' said Alma quickly. 'You gave your word.'

  To give him credit, the loquacious Johnny had been scrupulously fair. He made his living selling motor cars and he had a fund of fascinating stories about his customers. He had a Lanchester 40 in the hold of the Mauretania. He was very proud of it. Since he had started with the firm, the Lanchester 40 had outsold the Rolls Royce Silver Ghost. Now he was expanding into the American market.

  Alma knew nothing about motor cars, yet she was glad to listen. She laughed at Johnny's stories. She could relax while he entertained the table. She liked the way his wrinkled face exaggerated each emotion as he spoke. She liked to hear him laugh. There were moments over dinner when she practically forgot about the body in her stateroom.

  15

  Paul ordered two large brandies from the steward. He asked Jack Gordon, 'Do you know the Mauretanial

  'Not very well. I sail with White Star as a rule. The Majestic. German built. It has a solid feel to it.'

  'I came over on the Berengaria, so I know what you mean. You're a regular traveller, then?'

  'Did it sound like that? Only about once a year. I have some people in New York. I like to see them. And I enjoy the crossing.'

  'The sports?'

  Jack smiled. 'No, I don't enjoy deck tennis. I swim a little sometimes. The Roman pool on the Majestic really is worth getting wet for. Unless you're careful on a British ship, it's all sports and games. You get no time to yourself at all.'

  The steward brought the brandy. Jack sent him for some cigarettes. He raised his glass. 'Here's to calm water all the way.'

  'I've been so busy since I got on board that I haven't given a thought to what the sea is doing,' said Paul. On the principle that the giving of a confidence is a measure of companionship, he told the story of Poppy from start to finish.

  'She must have been fun to know,' said Jack. 'One of our cockney sparrows — chirpy and adorable. Pity you had to part. But a chap like you won't be short of female company for long. Nothing can beat an ocean voyage for a short romance.'

  Paul laughed. 'Who do you have in mind for me?'

  'How about that very attractive young lady I saw you with before dinner?'

  'Before dinner?'

  'You appeared to be in conversation with her parents in the dining saloon, but you can't tell me you didn't notice the stunning girl with brown hair cut very short whose big dark eyes never left you for a second.'

  'Ah, that's Barbara, a sweet girl I know from college days. In fact we went out together a couple of times in London.' Paul stopped. He had noticed from the movement of Jack's eyes that someone was behind him. He turned and felt the brush of soft fabric on his face. The woman was wearing a peacock blue dress with filmy sleeves that swirled gently as she moved her arms. She had extremely fine, black hair gathered in a bun. She was about te
n years older than Paul. Her face had the high cheekbones and narrow brow that preserve beauty indefinitely.

  She said in a clear English accent, 'Gentlemen, I hope you will forgive me interrupting your conversation. My name is Katherine Masters and I am trying to speak to everyone about the ship's concert. You see, Signor Martinelli was the obvious choice as concert chairman, and he is a very sweet man as well as a brilliant singer, but his English is not really equal to the task of finding volunteers for Tuesday night. I'm doing a little crusading on his behalf. I know that there are always talented people on a Mauretania crossing.'

  Jack had already shaken his head and smiled. 'No, no. I'm not one of them. I'm sorry, but I don't think I can help you, Miss Masters.'

  'Nor me,' said Paul. 'I'm completely unmusical. Tone deaf, in fact.'

  Katherine Masters was not so easily brushed aside. 'No, music isn't a requirement. Between ourselves,' — she leaned forward to make sure she was not overheard — 'we have more violinists than we can possibly use. They bring their music with them, you know.' She put her hand on Paul's shoulder and he caught a whiff of expensive scent. 'I'm really hoping to find some jolly young men who wouldn't mind playing a part in a sketch.'

  'Not me, I'm afraid,' said Paul.

  'The only thing I can play is a hand of whist,' said Jack, 'and I'm not very good at that.'

  'Whist?' said Miss Masters. 'I adore whist. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll say no more about the concert if you include me in a four for whist.'

  'Tonight?'said Jack.

  'Why not? I've nearly finished going round.'

  'Paul, do you play?'

  'Just occasionally. I'm no expert.'

  'Put it this way: if you have a choice of a few hands of whist tonight or doing a music hall turn on Tuesday, which will it be?'

  Paul grinned, it's blackmail.'

  'But is it a deal?'

  'I guess it is.'

  'Divine!' said Miss Masters. 'But we'll need a fourth.'

  'That's all right,' said Jack. 'Paul was talking earlier to a young lady he knew from his college days. I expect she could be persuaded, couldn't she?'

  'I couldn't say,' said Paul. 'I'll mention it.'

  'Fine,' said Miss Masters, in half an hour, then?'

  'We'd better meet in the smoking room,' said Jack, i believe that's where they keep the cards.' When she had moved away, he said to Paul, 'You see? I don't know what it is about ocean liners, but no man is safe. I hope you don't feel I've let you in for this.'

  'Not at all. I enjoy a game of cards. I'd better go and look for Barbara.'

  He found her sitting alone at the Cordells' table in the dining saloon. She was watching the dancing. Livy and her mother were one-stepping to I'm just wild about Harry. Barbara looked up at Paul. Her face lit up. Instead of asking her to play whist, he had an impulse to dance with her. He took her hand and squeezed it. Jack was right. She was very attractive. As they took the floor, he said, 'You know, in all the time we've known each other, I don't believe we've ever danced together.'

  Barbara gave him a quick smile. 'Maybe someone told you I'm not so good at it.'

  'You're doing fine.'

  'I haven't had a lot of practice.'

  'Your parents dance a lot. I saw them on the floor at the Savoy. They're pretty good.'

  'Livy is. He does a marvellous tango. I don't know where he learned his dancing. It was before he met Mother for sure. Mother likes to dance because she has beautiful ankles, and she can twirl around and show them off, but she's not really a dancer. She isn't co-ordinated. See how her hips are out of time with the rest of her body?'

  'Stop. You'll make me laugh.'

  'I guess I'm being mean. I've seen too much of my mother lately.'

  'I came to ask you if you would like to join a card game,' said Paul. 'Do you play whist?'

  'Who with?'

  'Only the guy who found my billfold and that woman in a blue dress who is trying to organize the concert. You and I could team up and win some free drinks. How about it, Barbara?'

  ''m not really a whist player.'

  'You're pretty hot on mental arithmetic. It's mainly remembering which cards have been played. Come on, we could be a great team. I'm so confident that I'll underwrite any losses we make.'

  'I ought to let my mother know where I am.'

  'You think so?' said Paul. He performed a spin turn so that Barbara could see her mother nodding encouragement over Livy's shoulder.

  Two card games were already in session in the walnut panelled alcoves in the smoking room. Jack had reserved a table. He had bought two packs of playing cards from the bar steward. They were on the table with the seals unbroken. Paul introduced him to Barbara.

  'Now we're just waiting for Miss Masters,' said Jack.

  'Katherine,' said Paul. 'Let's keep it as informal as we can.'

  Katherine arrived a moment later noticeably refortified with scent. 'I had to get some money from my stateroom,' she explained after another round of introductions.

  'Are we playing for money?' Barbara asked.

  'Of course, dear. It's a very dull game otherwise,' said Katherine.

  'I have some English money I could use up,' said Jack.

  'I thought it was against the rules to gamble,' said Barbara.

  'Is it?' said Katherine, disappointed. 'They take the pleasure out of everything if they can.'

  'We could keep a score and settle up later,' Paul suggested.

  'What a marvellous idea.'

  'One English pound on each rubber?' said Jack.

  It was agreed. Paul drew the lowest card and became the dealer. Clubs were trumps. He dealt himself a poor hand. Jack and Katherine won the first game and the second.

  'I told you I was not much good,' Barbara said to Paul.

  'My dear, you haven't had the cards to play,' Katherine told her. 'Whist is dreadfully boring if you don't get the cards.'

  They played three rubbers and Paul and Barbara won just one game.

  'We're not much opposition for you,' said Paul.

  'Let's break off for some drinks for ten minutes,' said Jack. 'What can I get you, ladies?'

  'Anything with ice in it,' said Katherine. 'Do you find it warm in here? I do. I'll just slip up to my cabin and freshen up.'

  'Let's have a bottle of champagne between us,' said Jack. 'My treat.'

  'Lovely!' said Katherine. 'What a marvellous man you are — good at cards and generous with drinks. See you shortly.' She gave Barbara a wave and hurried out.

  While Jack was at the bar ordering the champagne, Paul remarked to Barbara, 'Nice people.'

  'Yes, I like them. I still wish we could even the score at cards.'

  He smiled. 'It's not important. We're enjoying the game.'

  'We might do better if we both remembered that the second player generally plays low and the third ought to play high.'

  Paul was laughing now. 'You told me you weren't a whist player.'

  Barbara's cheeks reddened, i know the fundamentals.'

  'Sure. It makes very good sense. I'll amend my play accordingly.' He might have added that it pleased him to find that Barbara had some spirit to match her bobbed hair and painted lips. He had been inclined to think of her as a sweet girl squashed to nothing by her mother.

  'And shall we have an understanding that when either of us leads we are looking to our partner to return the same suit at the first opportunity?' Barbara went on solemnly.

  'If we can also have an understanding that we try to finish the game in time to get some more dancing in,' said Paul.

  She looked pleased. 'I'd like that.'

  'Win or lose?'

  'You ought to have more faith in my suggestions. Of course we're going to win.'

  'Easy on the champagne, then,' cautioned Paul as Jack returned with a steward.

  'Katherine not back yet?' said Jack. He told the steward, 'We'll open it ourselves when the lady returns.'

  They did not have long to wait. 'So sorry to k
eep you,' Katherine told them. 'I felt I really had to go back and check my face after what happened. I was on my way back from D Deck where my stateroom is, and a door along the passage opened. The man stepped out, took one look at me and shot back into his cabin. From the look on his face, he might have seen a ghost.'

  'I wouldn't worry about that,' said Jack. 'I expect he was just a fellow who thought you were going to ask him to appear in the concert. He didn't know that you'll settle for a game of whist instead.' He uncorked the champagne. Katherine's frightened man was not mentioned again.

  Paul and Barbara picked up eleven tricks between them in the first game after play resumed. Paul was scrupulous in playing low when he was second and high when he was third. He watched whatever Barbara led and returned it when he won the lead. They won three games in succession and took the rubber.

  'What's happened to you two?' asked Jack. 'Are you playing better or have we had too much champagne?'

  'Someone has,' said Katherine with a trace of pique. 'You blocked my long suit in that last game. We could have picked up two more tricks.'

  'I don't think we ought to have post mortems,' answered Jack. 'I'll try harder next time, partner.'

  They won a game, but lost the rubber. The unease between Jack and Katherine was almost palpable. Jack started smoking. Katherine pursed her mouth in a way that made her look years older.

  'It's incredible how your luck can change in cards,' said Paul as he and Barbara won another rubber and evened the score.

  'You need more than luck,' said Katherine, with a glare at Jack.

  'Shall we make this the deciding rubber?' Paul suggested.

  'Just as you wish,' said Jack.

  'If you don't mind,' said Barbara, it's a long time since I played whist. I find it hard to concentrate.'

  That's the champagne, my dear,' said Katherine. it affects us all in different ways. Are you going to deal, partner, or shall we sit here looking at each other until we reach New York?'

  Paul and Barbara won the last rubber by two games to one.

  'That's it, then,' said Jack. 'Congratulations. America wins. We owe you a pound apiece.'