Sgt Beef - Case Without A Corpse Part 27

Good sailor, Sergeant? I asked Beef presently, since Stute seemed disinclined to talk.

Well, I've only done it during the War, said Beef, and thenwell, you know what it was.

I could well imagine, and said no more. But as soon as we were on the usual Cross-Channel steamer and out at sea, it was quite obvious that Beef was not a good sailor. His crimson face turned a curious mauvish tint, and he made no further attempt to be talkative.

I don't 'arf feel queer, he admitted later,-and quite suddenly left us.

Stute had not time to notice the contretemps. His mind was busy with our chances. He told me, frowning, that he believed the fellow Fairfax would talk, at any rate on the drug issue. But what he, Stute, had to do was to find out by carefully-framed questions whether Fairfax had any hand in the murder.

There's just one other chance, said Stute. This fellow we're going to see may not be Fairfax. We know he's got the pa.s.sport that was issued in the name of Freeman. But a Foreign Office stamp over the photograph can be faked easily enough. Suppose that Fairfax is dead.

Just then Beef joined us again, looking much better.

Wonderful wot a drop of brandy'll do for you, he said.

But after that Stute kept his speculations to himself.

I was delighted when our train steamed into Paris at last, and felt quite important when two very stern and preoccupied men came up to Stute. There were introductions and enquiries about the smoothness or otherwise of the pa.s.sage, but no smiles.

All five of us got into a smart police car which fought its way out of the station traffic most admirably. Beef was staring about him with wonder in his round eyes. He was sitting next to me, and made little remarks in my ear continually. He hadn't heard this language since the War, he said. It made you feel funny to hear it again. He wouldn't like to live in a country where darts was not played. And it would be awkward to be a policeman if you had to wear the uniform used here. He didn't know what they'd say in Braxham if he turned out like that.

I tried to discourage his commentary for I was anxious to hear the more serious matters under discussion between his superiors.

What seems most odd, one of the French detectives was saying in excellent English, is his complete confidence. He does not seem to consider the possibility of his being followed.

Stute smiled. He is a clever man, or has a clever man behind him. But for a piece of luck he never would have been followed. And Stute told them in outline of Fairfax's scheme and how he had gone to the trouble and expense of building up a new ident.i.ty in the village of Long Highbury for the sole object of getting a pa.s.sport under another name ready for an emergency.

The Frenchmen were impressed. Neat, they admitted, but you were thorough. That is how you get your men over therethoroughness.

Method. Order, murmured Stute mechanically.

Well, we are having him watched, your friend., Already you have helped us not a little. He has been to a lady's beauty parlour which we have long suspected of selling drugs. But we are making no investigation there until you have seen your man. We did not wish to scare him away.

Good. Very considerate of you. Looks as though this case is going to mean quite a roundup of the drugs crowd.

What can we want better? Their arrest is always a credit to the police.

'Ere! said Sergeant Beef with a sudden explosiveness across me, 'ave you got any ideas as to 'oo they mean by the big shot in this drugs game. I see those South American chaps thought there was someone behind it all.

No, said the French detective rather coldly, we have not.

Stute seemed to think that he was called upon to explain away Beef's outburst.

The Sergeant, he said in his pa.s.sionless voice, is coming with me to identify Fairfax. He knew the man by sight, and J didn't. The Sergeant is not at Scotland Yard.

Understood, said one of the Frenchmen.

Perfectly, nodded the other.

All the same, said Beef pensively, it wouldn't 'arf be a good thing to find out.

We had pa.s.sed the statue of Balzac, and seemed to be making for Pa.s.sy.

Now, I hope you understand the position so far as we're concerned, said one of the Frenchmen to Stute. We have found your man, and we have watched him for you. But we have no reason at present to make an arrest, and there is, of course, no question of extradition for the moment. He is staying with his wife in a highly respectable hotel. We have seen the proprietor, and promised him that there will be no scene or scandal. He will be helpful so far as he can, but he is naturally anxious to protect his other guests from any annoyance. So that all you can do is to interview the man and his wife.

That's all I want to do.

Good. And if in your interview you fail to get what you want then we will proceed with our investigation at the beauty parlour, and should we get evidence there against this man Fairfax, or Freeman, or Ferris, as he variously calls himself, we will arrest him, and hope that you complete your case in England while we hold him. Right?

Splendid, said Stute.

I have read the whole case, put in the other detective, I think it was the girl that he murdered. I think that this drug business is interesting, but irrelevant to the main crime.

Indeed? snapped Stute, you are no doubt better able to follow it from this distance.

The French detective explained quickly that he had wished to imply nothing of the sort. He was merely theorizing.

I have never, said Stute, known a case which gave such scope for theorizing. It is facts that I want. And if I can't get some out of Fairfax I shall begin to be annoyed. This investigation has gone on long enough.

We are nearly there. The proprietor will be expecting us.

Good, said Stute. Are their rooms in the front of the house?

No. At the back. I asked particularly, having regard to our arrival.

We drew up at a quiet-looking house in the rue Vineuse, with only a small plate to indicate that it was a hotel. Everything about it was neat, discreet, smart. It was the sort of place, I judged, which charged high prices, but gave value for them. No one was in sight as our taxi stopped, and we three got out. One of the two Frenchmen turned quickly to Stute.

We will await you at the corner, he said,

Good luck...

The car moved quietlyaway and our incongruous trio advancedtowards the front door.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE HOTEL-PROPRIETOR, who was as neat and discreet as the exterior of his hotel, was waiting for us in the entrance.

It is room Number 39 that you want, he said. I have just sent c.o.c.ktails up, so I think you arrive at a good moment. And please, no disturbance.

His voice had dropped almost to a whisper, and he had nervously pulled a scented handkerchief from the pocket of his black jacket. He eyed Beef somewhat dubiously, but it was Stute who answered him.

We only want a little talk, he said flatly.

There was a small slow lift, and we crossed to it, but found that we were only just able to get in, for the proprietor accompanied us. On the second floor we stepped out, and the proprietor led the way down a thickly carpeted pa.s.sage. At Room 39 he stopped and motioning us near, tapped sharply.

Yes? replied a masculine voice, then added impatiently, Come in.