Peter Lovesey - The False 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.

'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.'

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.'