Francis Durbridge - News of Paul Temple

Temple went on with his unpacking, whistling quietly to himself. He had almost finished, and was just debating as to whether he should open his wife’s case, when there was a knock at the door.

‘Come in,’ called Temple, thinking it was Ernie with the other luggage.

The door opened and a voice with a Teutonic accent rasped: ‘I trust I do not intrude, Mr Temple?’

Temple turned swiftly.

‘Why, Doctor Steiner! Come in!’ He held out his hand to the German, who appeared just a little embarrassed.

‘I saw your name in the register,’ he said rather shyly, ‘and could not resist this opportunity of renewing our—transatlantic friendship.’

‘It’s delightful to see you again,’ Temple assured him. ‘But I am surprised. What are you doing in Scotland?’

‘I am on holiday,’ replied Steiner. ‘Trying to forget that I am a Doctor of Philosophy at the University of Philadelphia. But it is not easy, I am afraid. These Scottish people are very interesting to a philosopher. They are in many ways highly religious and, shall we say, narrow-minded. And yet they worship their national poet, Robert Burns. You have, no doubt, heard of Burns?’

Having heard of little else since arriving in Scotland, Temple smiled and nodded.

‘And yet again,’ pursued the professor, ‘the Scottish race frown upon divorce. They look upon marriage as sacred, binding and eternal. Yet it is easier to many in Scotland than anywhere else in the British Isles. Perhaps you can explain these inconsistencies, Mr Temple. I should be most happy to listen and to take notes.’

But before Temple could make any attempt to reply, the door opened quickly and Steve rushed in.

‘Paul, the most amazing thing—’ She stopped suddenly at the sight of Doctor Steiner.

‘I thought you’d be surprised,’ laughed Temple. ‘Dr Steiner has just arrived. He spotted our name in the register.’

‘Perhaps I am wasting my time on philosophy,’ smiled Steiner as he shook hands with Steve. ‘I should be a detective—yes?’ He looked from one to the other. ‘But surely you tell me on the ’plane that shortly you leave for the South of France?’

‘Paul changed his mind,’ Steve informed him. ‘He thought it would be too hot.’

‘I like that, I must say!’ protested Temple.

‘I am glad to see a man change his mind,’ declared Steiner, with a twinkle in his grey eyes. ‘Well, I do not think you will find it too hot in Scotland. B-r-r! I have never felt it so cold, not even in Philadelphia.’

‘How long are you staying here, Doctor?’ asked Temple.

‘I don’t know. It all depends—on the weather,’ he added hurriedly. Rather unexpectedly Steiner turned towards the door. ‘I must start unpacking. We shall meet later, I hope—at dinner.’

‘Why, yes, of course. You must sit at our table. I’ll arrange it,’ said Temple.

‘I shall be honoured. Then for the time being… auf wiedersehen !’ He bowed slightly and went out. As the door closed Temple turned to his wife.

‘Now, what’s all this excitement about?’ he demanded. ‘You came dashing in here as if all the Campbells and McLeods were after you.’

‘Paul, whom do you think I’ve seen?’

‘I haven’t the vaguest idea.’

‘Iris!’

‘Iris—here?’ Temple ejaculated.

Steve nodded. She sat on the bed and tucked her legs under the eiderdown. ‘Darling, I’m not joking,’ she assured him seriously. ‘I really have seen Iris – there’s no mistaking her. I was coming out of the bathroom when a door opened at the far end of the corridor – and out stepped Iris.’

‘Did she see you?’ broke in Temple swiftly.

Steve wrinkled her forehead in some perplexity.

‘I don’t know,’ she had to admit. ‘I have a feeling that she did.’

‘But—but what happened?’ Temple was completely mystified.

‘There’s a staircase at the end of the corridor, near her room. Before I could say anything she had turned her back to me and disappeared.’

‘Why didn’t you call to her?’

‘I was so startled – it was like one of those dreams when you feel quite helpless.’

‘It’s certainly very peculiar,’ reflected Temple. ‘What the devil would Iris be doing here?’

Suddenly, in the distance, a gong boomed.

‘Dinner! And I haven’t even started to unpack!’ cried Steve. Temple appeared not to have heard. He was sitting on the edge of a chair gazing thoughtfully out of the window – though he actually saw nothing of the view so highly praised by his hostess. Steve may have made a mistake about Iris, but it was hardly likely. What could she be doing in a remote Scottish inn! Why had she thrown over the best part of her career to penetrate the wilds of Scotland? Why…

He was startled by Steve’s hand on his shoulder. ‘Paul, I’ve just remembered about that letter. Hadn’t you better inquire—?’

He smiled at her. ‘I have.’

‘Then there is a John Richmond?’

‘Certainly.’

Steve considered this.

‘Paul, you don’t think there could be any connection between the young man, those two men who stopped us, and Iris?’

Temple frowned. Once again the gong boomed and almost simultaneously there was a knock on the door. When Temple opened it, Ernie Weston stood outside.

‘I beg your pardon, sir, but I believe you wanted to see Mr Richmond. I brought him up now because I thought you might—’

‘Oh yes, please ask him to come in.’

The man who had been waiting just along the corridor came forward.

‘Why, Sir—’ began Temple. Then stopped at an urgent sign from the visitor.

‘Sir Graham!’ cried Steve, before they could suppress her exclamation.

‘There seems to be some mistake,’ said Sir Graham Forbes politely. ‘My name is Richmond. John Richmond.’

1

Temple was the first to appreciate that there was a serious element to the situation. He recognised an urgent note in Sir Graham’s voice. Obviously, the Chief Commissioner was not anxious to have his identity revealed. As there was every indication of Steve starting an inquiry of this nature, Temple suddenly broke into a rather nonsensical chuckle.

‘Really, sir, we must beg your forgiveness,’ he grinned. ‘By Timothy, I’ve never seen anything like it…’ He regarded Sir Graham quizzically, his head on one side. ‘The same chin, the same nose…Why, he’s just like old Forbes, isn’t he, Steve? The absolute “spit” of old Forbes – just look at his hair…well, I’m damned!’

He contrived to shoot a warning glance at Steve while Ernie Weston was looking at Sir Graham.

‘What the devil is all this about?’ snapped Forbes irritably, addressing the landlord. ‘Who are this lady and gentleman?’

Ernie Weston was palpably perplexed.

‘A Mr and Mrs Temple, sir,’ he informed Sir Graham. ‘Arrived about half an hour ago.’ He looked at each of them in turn. ‘There seems to have been some sort of mistake, doesn’t there?’ he suggested.

‘I thought you said they wanted to see me,’ growled Forbes.

‘Well, ’e said ’e did want to see you,’ protested Ernie. He turned on Temple rather fiercely. ‘I say, what’s the game?’ he almost snarled. ‘You said I was to give a message to…’

‘It’s all right,’ laughed Temple. ‘There’s nothing to get excited about. This gentleman reminded us of someone else, that’s all.’

Ernie made no effort to move. ‘But this is the gent you wanted to see – Mr Richmond—’ he began in puzzled tones.

By this time, Steve had begun to realise the position.

He broke off suddenly, as if realising Weston’s presence for the first time. ‘It’s all right, Weston,’ he murmured casually. But Ernie was obviously loath to accept this dismissal.