An assistant purser came to Walter's side and asked if he would meet the reporters. He declined. He said it was quite impossible for him to make any comment whatsoever. He said he was going to his stateroom to finish packing. But even as he turned to walk away, something flashed ahead of him. Keystone had got its picture of Inspector Dew.
Manhattan sparkled across the water and the Mauretania boomed its notice of arrival. First-time passengers excitedly identified the Woolworth Building and the other landmarks. The Statue of Liberty was closer and it dominated them all.
On the decks the final tips were handed to the stewards and people who had shared tables or played cards together said goodbye. Gangs of seamen removed the coamings from the hatches and began erecting deck gear. As the ship eased into Pier 88, the ship's whistle emitted a last reverberating blast.
Alma clung tightly to Johnny's arm as he explained the routine of debarkation. The luggage would be taken by the longshoremen to points along the pier identified by letters of the alphabet. As B for Baranov was some seventy yards from F, they would be separated. 'But don't be alarmed, my dear. All you have to do is check your pieces of luggage and have them seen by one of the customs inspectors. When you're clear, wait for me. I'll have to see the Lanchester unloaded, but it won't take long, I hope. Then, I think, a good lunch in the Waldorf.'
In the next hour Alma discovered one of Johnny's failings: he was over-optimistic. They had crossed the gangway and taken positions by their letters, and no luggage had been brought to them except their cabin trunks. The Lanchester had not been lifted from the hold. But she enjoyed the excitement of the scene, the creaking blocks and winches, the throb of dynamos, the shouting gangs of men.
'Are you still waiting?'
She turned to find Walter at her side.
'I thought I'd see if I could help,' he told her.
She was grateful. He had always treated her with kindness. 'It hasn't all arrived,' she told him. 'There are those trunks of Lydia's.'
'Three,' he said. 'They're over there.'
They were in a place she had not considered, a few yards beyond the letter B. Walter hailed a longshoreman and got them moved next to the things Alma had brought ashore. He found a customs man to check them. As it was being done they saw the Lanchester hoisted from the number 2 hold at the forward end. It looked very fragile suspended high above the pier, but it was lowered without mishap and Johnny was there to see the tackle removed without damage to the gleaming coachwork.
'Come on,' said Walter. 'Let's take the small things over.'
'What about your own luggage?'
'It can wait a while. I've got to go aboard again to see the captain.' He picked up a suitcase and escorted Alma past the numerous stacks of baggage to where the cars had been unloaded. Johnny was inspecting the bodywork for scratches. He caught sight of Alma and came to meet them.
'This is very decent of you, Inspector.'
'Not at all,' said Walter. 'Shall I put it in the back?'
'Leave it, old man. I'll have to unlock the boot.' Johnny felt in his pocket for the key.
'No need,' said Walter, i think you'll find it's open.' He gripped the handle of the luggage compartment and lifted up the lid.
'What the devil..?' exclaimed Johnny in amazement.
Inside the boot half-hidden by a blanket, was Livy Cordell. He sat up, blinking at the sunlight, I guessed it would be you, Inspector,' he said resignedly to Walter.
But Walter was looking at Alma. It was difficult to tell whether his smile registered satisfaction or surprise.
23
'Inspector, I can't express sufficient thanks,' said Captain Rostron. it's a triumph of detection. I think it even tops the Crippen case. The world shall hear of it.'
'Thank you,' said Walter, 'but I don't want any fuss.'
The captain smiled, I doubt whether we can prevent it. The New York press are waiting for you. You'll get a royal welcome, and you deserve it.'
'But I don't want it, captain.' Walter nervously fingered his collar, I want to be left alone. Is there any way I can avoid it?'
'Well, you need not go ashore.'
Walter's eyes widened.
'I mean it,' said the captain. 'You can remain in your stateroom if you wish.'
'I can't stay there for long, or I'll get taken back to England.'
'Ah,' said the captain, holding up a finger. 'I was about to come to that.'
'To what?' said Walter in alarm.
'Another whisky? I'm afraid I'm going to ask you to return with me tomorrow.'
'What?'
'Let me put it this way. I know you're not a policeman.'
Walter took a gulp of whisky.
'- since you retired, I mean,' explained the captain. 'So it's a shocking inconvenience, I'm sure, but what else can I suggest? Cordell has to be returned to England to stand trial, and as you're the man who built the case against him '
'But he's an American,' said Walter. 'Can't he stand trial here?'
'Don't you remember your law?' said the captain with a smile. 'He committed an indictable offence aboard a British ship on the high seas. He's got to be taken back. Of course, I'll ask the police to come aboard at Southampton and take him off. No need for you to be on show again. But we will need you for the magistrates' court. Frankly, there's no case against Cordell without your co-operation.'
'But I made arrangements.'
'You'll be compensated generously.'
Walter stared at him in silence.
'There won't be much delay,' the captain said, still trying to soften the blow. 'This is the quick turn-round. We sail again tomorrow.' He put his hand on Walter's arm. 'You'll get a marvellous welcome from the police.'
PART SIX
The Immigrant
1
At midnight of the following day, the Mauretania was towed into the fairway of the North River and swung to face the ocean again. For this eastbound crossing she carried fewer passengers; the season of vacations in Europe was virtually at an end for 1921. The passenger list was largely composed of businessmen. In the second class appeared the name Mr Walter Brown.
Walter had his meals delivered to his stateroom. He took his exercise at times when he knew the deck would be deserted. He was famous now. The fascinating story of Chief Inspector Dew's unmasking of the Mauretania Strangler had made headlines in New York. His picture had been splashed across the front of every paper in the City.
On the captain's orders, elaborate precautions were arranged to spare Walter from inquisitive passengers and the possible intrusion of the press. His only visitor apart from cabin stewards was the doctor, who came each day to dress the injured shoulder. Walter expressed his thanks, but said he felt guilty taking up the doctor's time because as far as he could see the wound had healed.
The doctor said, 'Certainly, it's doing nicely, but we must avoid the smallest risk of infection. You'll need to be completely fit by the time we reach Southampton. You won't want a tender shoulder when the reporters mob you.'
If Walter had any doubts about the reception he could expect in England, they were buried under the mass of telegrams delivered from the wireless room. There were congratulations, invitations and lavish offers from the Fleet Street papers for exclusive interviews.
On Saturday the doctor told him, 'Have you heard? The Daily Sketch has found a chap in Worthing who claims you aren't Inspector Dew at all. He says he's the man who arrested Crippen. The things people will do to get in the papers!'
The same evening Walter had a reassuring visit from the captain. 'You're comfortable, I trust? No-one has disturbed your privacy?'
'Very comfortable and very quiet, thank you, Captain.'
'Good. I expect you've heard about the fuss ashore.'
'A little.'
'Pretty daunting, I should think. Well, Inspector, someone is aware of your predicament. I've received this telegram from the Public Prosecutor's office.'
Walter examined it. Kindly inform Inspector Dew a
rrangements made to disembark Cherbourg to avoid press harassment.
He said, 'That's very considerate of them.'
'Damnit, that's the least they can do considering the inconvenience this has caused you,' said the captain. 'I expect to reach Cherbourg on Tuesday morning. Presumably they'll have a man to meet you.'
The rest of the crossing was uneventful, and in consequence seemed slow. Walter was on deck late on Monday evening when the light of Bishop Rock appeared on the horizon. Soon after midnight he saw the incandescence of the south coast of England from the port side. Then he went to bed.
In the morning it was raining. Cherbourg was scarcely visible from the breakwater where the passengers transferred to the tender that conveyed them to the inner harbour. Walter pulled up the collar of his overcoat and kept away from anyone who looked like the press. Any thoughts he may have entertained of disappearing among the teeming hundreds on the harbour were scotched at once. A figure in a uniform approached him as he stepped ashore and said in an English accent, 'Excuse me, sir, I believe I am right in saying that your name is Walter Baranov.'
Walter's facial muscles tightened, but he did not deny it. He gave a nod.
'So glad to have found you,' said the man. His uniform was not that of a police officer. It was the peaked cap, high-buttoned tunic and gaiters of a chauffeur. 'Would you come this way? There's just the formality of customs. Your luggage will be collected.'
Walter followed him across the harbour to the customs hall. They were allowed to pass immediately.
Outside, they crossed a pebbled courtyard to a black limousine.
'Where are you taking me?' Walter asked.
The chauffeur opened the rear door. 'Would you kindly step inside, sir?'
Walter inclined his head, put his foot on the running-board, and froze.
A woman was sitting inside. She said, 'Walter darling, or do I say Inspector?'
It was Lydia.
2
'The telegram was very clever, don't you think?' she asked him as they sat together at the open tables outside a bar-restaurant in Caen. 'I even took the trouble to find out the name of the Public Prosecutor, in case there was a query, but they accepted it like lambs.' She laughed. 'I dare say it gave you a bit of a turn, darling.'
'Yes,' said Walter. He was still looking pale. 'How did you find out that I was masquerading as Dew?'
'I saw your picture in the paper. It gave me quite a shock. The first time I saw it, I just turned to jelly, seeing my own sweet husband in the Daily Mail. Then I saw the name Inspector Dew underneath and I thought, well, everyone is supposed to have a double, and this was yours. But a couple of days later the papers were saying someone else had claimed to be Walter Dew, and if he was, then who was the mystery man in the photograph? That was when I knew for sure. I thought, heavens, what has my Walter been up to? It was obvious that you were going to be in the most awful spot when the ship reached Southampton. The press are vultures, darling, to say nothing of the police. So I sent my little telegram. And now they'll never find their mystery man.'
'I hope not. I'm grateful, Lydia.'
She held his hand tightly. 'Darling, it was the least I could do after you had been so gallant.'
'Gallant?'
Lydia giggled. 'Still the same Walter, so utterly unassuming! Sweetheart, what could be more gallant and romantic than a husband who kisses you goodbye and then secretly arranges to join you on the ocean crossing because he cannot bear to live without you? It was very touching, and dreadfully tragic that I wasn't on the ship at all.'
Walter frowned. 'But you were. I saw you go aboard. Your things were in the stateroom. I waited there for hours.'
She nipped his cheek between her thumb and finger. 'Incorrigible man. I can't think what you had in mind.' She sighed. 'And to think I missed it. Darling, this is what happened. I moved into my stateroom as you noticed, and unpacked my things. The ship moved off, but I remembered your advice about mal de mer, and stayed away from lunch. I sat on the bed and read a paper I had bought.'
'I saw it on the bed.'
'But did you read it, Walter?
'But did you read it, Walter? I did, and I had a fit! On the front page was the news that Charlie Chaplin was about to arrive in England! He was on the Olympic, two days from Southampton. And there was I crossing the other way to see him! Oh, the panic! I was in tears. I ran out on deck to see how far we had come. It was miles. What could I do? I just had to get off that ship, or my chance of getting started in films was nil. How do you think I managed it?'
Walter shook his head. 'You didn't leave the ship at Cherbourg. One young lady did, but she was the only one.'
'No, darling, your resourceful Lydia had already left by then. I went on the pilot boat. It came alongside while I was frantically wondering what to do. I simply got aboard with some people who should have got off when the bell went at Southampton. There wasn't even time to collect my luggage.'
'I know.'
Lydia squeezed his hand again. 'My poor Walter! You must have been beside yourself with worry. Did you think I'd fallen over the side? What did you do — raise the alarm?'
He said truthfully, 'I sat and waited for you. I assumed you were on the ship because your things were there.'
She rolled her eyes, i know what you were thinking — that I had company on the ship. Oh Walter — what kind of woman do you think I am?'
He didn't answer. He said, 'When it got to midnight I went back to my cabin in the second class.'
'Where you were registered as Inspector Dew?'
'Mr Dew. They assumed I was the Inspector.'
She shook with laughter. 'And you were too polite to deny it. Walter, you're adorable. Whatever made you use another name?'
'I intended to surprise you.'
Her face lit up. 'What a beautiful idea! Darling, I'm overwhelmed. Do you know, I can't imagine anything more romantic — and bless me if I wasn't stupid enough to spoil it, all for nothing!'
'Why — didn't you see Chaplin?'
'Oh, I went to the Ritz where he is staying, and they let me in, eventually.'
'Did he remember you?'
'Of course! As if it were yesterday.'
'Did he offer to put you in a film?' Walter asked enthusiastically.
Lydia sighed. 'That's the difficulty. He would have taken me back to Hollywood like a shot, but there is the problem of my eyes.'
'Your eyes? I didn't know there was anything the matter with them.'
'There isn't, except for their colour. It seems that brown eyes show up black and it ruins the film.'
'I've never heard of that before.'
'Nor had I, but that was that. You don't think he made it up, do you?'
Walter tapped his chin as if he had thoughts of his own.
'What does it matter any more?' said Lydia, downing the last of the wine, it's taught me something, darling. I'm married to a man who values me. I intend to keep him close to me for ever.'
'What will we do with ourselves?' asked Walter.
'Obviously we can't go back to England until the fuss dies down. I thought we'd go to Paris — I'm completely out of clothes — and then tour France in the motor car.'
'And after that?'
'I don't know, darling. Can you think of anything?'
Walter said on an inspiration, 'How about a sea cruise?'
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The False Inspector Dew Page 24
