The False Inspector Dew

by Peter Lovesey

  19

  It was the happiest day in Marjorie Livingstone Cordell's life, or at least the happiest since she had married Livy. Barbara had told her after breakfast that Paul had asked her to marry him. At the height of that dreadful storm the previous evening those two young people had found a quiet corner of the ship and agreed to share the rest of their lives. It was very romantic. They had still been wearing their Pilgrim costumes. Marjorie could not imagine anything more charming or appropriate.

  Paul had very properly told Barbara that he would ask for the permission of her parents. There was some uncertainty about whom he should approach, because Livy was not her natural father, but Marjorie had decided that this was not important. Livy could answer for them both, as this was a formality more easily settled between men. 'We'll let them feel important,' she told Barbara. 'Poor darlings, it's the only chance they get.' It was agreed that Livy would be in the smoking room at noon, and Paul would appear a minute later. They would say the necessary things and join the ladies for lunch. Livy would order a bottle of champagne.

  Mother and daughter planned these excellent arrangements. When Marjorie talked to Livy he surprised her. He was not enthusiastic, i'd rather leave this to you, if you don't mind,' he said. 'It's not in my character to stand on ceremony. The boy can speak to you.'

  'There's no reason to be nervous,' Marjorie told him. 'Good heavens, Paul has some reason to be nervous, but you haven't.'

  'Really, Marie, I just want to sit here in our stateroom and read a book.'

  Marjorie was shaken. 'That's a terrible admission, Livy. Barbara is our daughter. You agreed the day you married me to treat her as your own. Now she has made the great decision of her life, and you would prefer to ignore it. How could I tell her that? Put on your suit and a collar and tie and let's think of those two young people instead of ourselves.'

  Livy knew better than to prolong the argument. He closed his book and started changing his clothes. He had just got into his dark suit when somebody knocked on the door.

  'Are you decent?' called Marjorie as she went to open it.

  'That's a matter of opinion,' grumbled Livy. i don't feel decent.'

  Marjorie opened the door. 'Oh. Excuse me, I was expecting someone else. Livy, Inspector Dew is here.'

  'Is it convenient?' asked Walter.

  'Sure,' said Livy, coming forward. 'We were just going to keep an appointment, but we can give you a few minutes. Won't you come in?'

  'You don't look too good, Inspector,' said Marjorie. 'We heard about the shooting last night. What a terrible thing. Where were you hit?'

  'In the shoulder, ma'am.'

  'What can we do for you?' asked Livy.

  'I hope you can help me. It's about the young man who was at your table last night.'

  'Paul?' said Marjorie. is anything the matter?'

  'I don't know. That is what I hope you can tell me.'

  'What do you mean? Nothing has happened to him? My husband is meeting him downstairs in a few minutes. Paul wants to ask him for our daughter's hand '

  Livy cut in. 'Honey, shall we hear what the Inspector has to say?'

  Walter cleared his throat. 'This is confidential, strictly confidential. How long have you known Mr Westerfield?'

  'We met him in Paris two weeks ago,' said Livy. 'Barbara knows him better. They were in college together.'

  'Barbara has a room at the end of the passage,' said Marjorie.

  'He knows that, Marje.'

  'Of course.'

  'The question is,' said Walter, 'have you noticed anything strange in his behaviour?'

  'What do you mean — "strange"?' asked Livy.

  'Odd, peculiar, erratic'

  'You think he's some kind of nut?'

  'Oh my God!' said Marjorie. 'He's about to be engaged to my daughter!'

  'Is he?' said Walter, i must be mistaken, then. I do apologise.' He reached for the door.

  'Just a minute,' said Livy. if there's anything against this boy we want to know about it.'

  'We sure do,' said Marjorie.

  'There's almost certainly nothing in it,' Walter tried to assure them, in fact, you can clear him of all suspicion if you know where he was after the fancy dress parade last night.'

  'He was in the parade,' said Marjorie. 'Don't you remember? Paul and Barbara came as Pilgrims.'

  'Honey, he said after the parade,' said Livy.

  'After it? Why, that was when the two of them went off on their own and he proposed to her.'

  'We've only got Barbara's word for that,' said Livy.

  'Oh.no!'

  'What else have you got against the boy?' Livy asked Walter.

  'Nothing definite at all. It was probably coincidence that he was playing cards with the lady who was murdered on the night she died.'

  'So was my daughter Barbara,' said Marjorie, close to tears. 'You don't think she had anything to do with it?'

  'Take it easy, Marje,' said Livy. 'Listen, Inspector, I was in the smoking room on Saturday evening. I talked to Paul. He was buying coffee for the lady and Barbara was at the table being kind to her. Is that the action of people with murder in their minds? I think you're making a mistake. No disrespect, of course.' He put an appeasing hand on Walter's shoulder.

  Walter gave a yelp of pain.

  'Shucks, I forgot,' said Livy as he jerked the hand away, inspector, I'm sorry. Would you like to sit down?'

  'No, it's all right. I was about to leave.'

  Marjorie came across the room, her face quivering with emotion. 'But you can't leave yet. You haven't told us why you think Paul is strange.'

  'Forget it, Marje,' murmured Livy.

  'How can I forget it when you're about to give my only daughter to a crazy?' Marjorie sobbed.

  'You blame me now?' said Livy, his voice pitched high with disbelief.

  'You don't care about Barbara,' Marjorie declared as her anxiety turned to malediction. 'You don't even care about me. It's self, self, self with you, Livy Cordell, and I should have seen it years back. All you ever do is talk about the old days and make smart-ass remarks at my expense. Well, I've had enough of it.'

  'Do you think / enjoy it?' retorted Livy.

  Walter said, i must go.'

  'No you don't,'said Marjorie, reaching out to grab his arm — fortunately his good one. i want the truth from you, Inspector. I've spent four years of my life married to a phony, and I don't intend to let my daughter wreck her life as well.'

  'Did you call me a phony?' Livy demanded.

  'Would you rather I called you a small-time crook who chucked it up to trap an innocent lady into marriage and live off her personal fortune?'

  'If that's what you think of our marriage, let's forget it.'

  'I will — don't you worry your head about that,' said Marjorie. The things she had said had done her good. She had triumphed over her distress. She turned to Walter and almost prodded him with her finger. 'Now for you. I want it straight, Inspector. What evidence do you have that Paul Westerfield is crazy?'

  'None whatsoever,' said Walter, reaching for the door again, it was only an hypothesis. I wanted to test it on someone who knows the young man.'

  'What did you say?'

  'You'd better get out of here, Inspector,' said Livy. He opened the door and pushed him through it.

  When it was closed, Marjorie found the words that had temporarily eluded her. 'Did you hear that? It was hypothetical. There's nothing wrong with Paul. Is that what he said?'

  'Something like that,' said Livy.

  'Why didn't he say so in the first place? What kind of people does he think we are?'

  'After what you said, he doesn't need to think. He knows,' said Livy acidly.

  'Honey, I didn't mean those things,' said Marjorie, her eyes welling with tears. 'What got into me? How could I have been so hurtful?' She opened her arms to embrace Livy, but he stood his ground.

  'Wash your face,' he said, it's a mess.'

  'Are you angry with me? I don't blam
e you, Livy.'

  'I'm going to meet that boy.'

  'Oh, Lord help us, yes. He must be waiting in the smoking room. You won't tell him about this?'

  'I don't shoot off my mouth like some people I know.'

  Marjorie sniffed tearfully, i guess I asked for that. Livy, how can we drink champagne with those two young people in love when something like this has happened? It's going to be just awful. They're going to look at us and think that's what they could become. Won't you kiss and make up before we see them?'

  Livy shook his head. 'Let's face it, Marje. You and I are finished. I'm doing this for Barbara's sake, not yours. See you at lunch.' He left the room.

  Marjorie closed her eyes and moaned.

  20

  The last social event on the Mauretania was traditionally the concert. It was held in the main lounge, and almost everyone in the first class attended. Captain Rostron had a place reserved in the centre of the front row. For this evening the ship's band was elevated into an orchestra and they played the captain to his seat with a chorus from HMS Pinafore -

  Then give three cheers, and one cheer more,

  For the hardy Captain of the Pinafore.

  The air of gaiety certainly owed something to a feeling of relief that this was the last evening at sea and no-one else had been strangled. If there was disappointment that Inspector Dew had not arrested anyone, it was generally agreed that his presence on the ship had discouraged any more fatalities. There had even been discussion in the concert committee of the possibility of including a second Gilbert and Sullivan chorus in the preliminaries -

  When constabulary duty's to be done, A policeman's lot is not a happy one.

  But it was felt that any reference to Walter ought to be omitted out of respect to the victim of the strangler.

  The entire programme after the interval was given to Signor Martinelli. Before the tenor appeared, Captain Rostron addressed the audience. He expressed the wish that they had enjoyed the crossing in spite of the unhappy incident at its outset. He paid tribute to Inspector Dew's unstinting efforts to investigate the crime and guarantee the safety of the passengers and crew. There was applause at this, and Walter standing at the back, gave a small bow in thanks. The injury to his shoulder was not mentioned.

  At the conclusion of the concert, Paul Westerfield remarked to his fiancee Barbara, 'I didn't see your parents here tonight.'

  'No', said Barbara. 'I haven't talked to them since lunch.'

  'You don't have to tell me that,' said Paul, giving her hand a squeeze. 'I've been with you all but twenty minutes.'

  She smiled back at him. 'Maybe they were tired. They seemed a little strained at lunch.'

  'They were sad to be giving up their lovely daughter.'

  'I don't think that's the way they look at it,' said Barbara.

  The smoking room soon filled with its usual clientele and others taking a last drink with friends made on the voyage. The talk was of New York and Quarantine and customs. Trunks still waited to be packed, but it was hard to leave the bonhomie for such depressing tasks.

  Jack Gordon was still treated with suspicion by other passengers. He stayed close to Walter.

  'Did you speak to the Cordells?' he asked as he handed Walter a scotch and soda from the bar.

  'I did,' said Walter. 'It was unfortunate.' He told Jack about Barbara's engagement to Paul. 'They were not pleased to listen to our theory of insanity. I wish I hadn't mentioned it. I think young Westerfield is innocent.'

  'I'm sure of it,'said Jack.

  Walter raised his eyebrows.

  Jack explained, 'While you were with the parents, I talked to Paul and Barbara. I asked them where they were last night when you were shot. He was proposing to her in the writing room. A steward switched on the light and saw them kissing. They were in their Pilgrim costumes. He switched off again and left them there. I've checked it with him. They have an alibi.'

  'I wish I had known before I saw the parents.'

  'A man in your occupation can't spare people's feelings, Inspector.'

  'I suppose not.'

  'You didn't spare me when you considered me a suspect.'

  'I didn't know you were the victim's husband. You behaved suspiciously,' said Walter.

  'You mean going down to the mortuary room to look at her?'

  'Yes. But on reflection I admire you for it.'

  'Why is that?'

  'Because you managed to find the place. I've been down there myself. It's like a maze below decks. I lost my way coming back from the cells. I don't know how you found the mortuary room without assistance. You told me yourself that this is your first trip on the Mauretania.'

  Jack said casually, it's no mystery. The Maury had a sister ship.'

  'Do you mean the LusitaniaT 'Yes. They were built the same year. The design was practically identical.'

  'And you were on the LusitaniaT

  'I served on her, Inspector. I was known as Jack Hamilton then. I was a cabin steward. That was how I got to know my way about the lower decks. Two years of fetching and carrying would teach anyone the short cuts, believe you me. It was damned hard work.' Jack gave a satisfied smile. 'I used to watch the first class passengers reclining on their deckchairs and rack my brains to find a way of joining them. Then another steward told me about the boatmen in the smoking room, the professional card players who made a tidy living out of fleecing the millionaires. I watched them work, and I thought this is for me.' He gave a shrug. 'Now you know the story of my life.'

  'And very interesting it is,' said Walter. 'I suppose you must have stopped working for Cunard some time before the Lusitania was torpedoed in the war.'

  'No,' said Jack. 'I was aboard her and so was Kate. She was a stewardess, Katherine Barton. We were lucky to survive. We were among the last to leave the ship. We were in the water nearly an hour.'

  'You were safer like that,' said Walter, shaking his head and sighing. 'Plenty of people died in the scramble for the lifeboats.'

  Jack stared at Walter. 'Were you on the LusitaniaV

  'Yes — with my father. We were first class passengers. I suppose every survivor has his story to tell. Father had his leg in plaster. We were the last to leave the dining saloon and I've always thought it saved our lives. Most of the lifeboats were smashed to bits. We waited on deck until the water reached us and we drifted clear before the end.'

  'Kate and I almost went down with the ship,' said Jack. 'After the torpedo struck, we were ordered to make sure all the suites and staterooms on B Deck were vacated. The passengers were out all right, but Kate disturbed a thief in the act of emptying a jewel-case. The bastard hit her with the damned thing and knocked her out. He slammed the door and left her there to die. He passed me in the passageway, didn't say a word. I went back to see why Kate hadn't caught up with me and found her bleeding and out to the world. Somehow I brought her round and took her up on deck. That's my story, Inspector. The nice thing was that six weeks later Kate married me.'

  'Did you ever find out what happened to the thief?'

  'No. I don't know whether he survived. I wouldn't know him if I met him again. Hardly got a look at his face. He was a short, stocky fellow in a dark suit. I was close to panic by then. I still get dreams about it, the ship listing unbelievably, and Kate unconscious in my arms and the dread that any minute the water will be flooding in.'

  'That will be why you wouldn't stay below decks in the storm last night.'

  Jack nodded. 'I'm not one of those who swore never to set foot on a ship again, or I wouldn't have chosen this way of life. But I'm going to make sure that if there ever is a next time, I'm not trapped below deck.'

  'Understandably,' said Walter. 'It must have been a vile experience. You mentioned that you wouldn't recognize the thief if he survived, but I wonder if your wife got a better look at him.'

  'She did, Inspector. She always said she'd know the blighter if she saw him again.'

  'Did she indeed? That's interesting.'

&nb
sp; 'Why?'

  'If he were on this ship, it would give him a reason for murdering her.'

  'By God, you're right.'

  'I wouldn't go so far as that,' Walter said, as if he regretted having mentioned the possibility, it's just another theory.'

  'It's the only one that fits the facts,'said Jack with a voice that needed no convincing. 'He came aboard at Southampton and had the shock of his life when he saw Kate. I expect he thought she had drowned when the Lusitania sank. He knew she was sure to recognize him in five days at sea, so he decided to murder her. He assumed she was travelling alone, so if he threw her in the sea, there would be nothing to connect him with her disappearance. He was a thief, so he would have no trouble breaking into her stateroom. He strangled her and put her through the porthole. Then things started to go wrong.'

  'The body was recovered from the sea,' said Walter.

  'That was the first thing. The second was the news that you were on the ship, a famous Scotland Yard detective. And the third was me — Kate's husband. He didn't know she was married until he heard the rumours and saw me talking to you. Perhaps he remembered my face. Whatever it was, he convinced himself that I would tell you what had happened on the Lusitania, and you — the man who caught Crippen — would lose no time arresting him. He was desperate, so he tried a desperate remedy.'

  'He shot me,' said Walter.

  'Yes. Whether he aimed at you or at me is immaterial.'

  'I can't agree with that,' said Walter stiffly.

  'I mean that from his point of view the result would be the same,' said Jack with a slight betrayal of impatience. 'It would stop me from telling you about the Lusitania. But it didn't. You're in possession of the facts now. What will you do next, Inspector?'

  Walter looked into his drink as if the answer might be there. He said, 'There's my packing to be done.'

  Jack's jaw gaped open. He said, 'We've got to find this man. He murdered my wife. He nearly murdered you.'

  'Yes. But I doubt if he'll try anything else. And he can't get away. I'll see him in the morning.'

  'Do you know who he is?' Jack asked in something like a gasp.