Fenwick's Legal Wife

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 87, 13 April 1933, Page 13

Fenwick's Legal Wife

By I - MARLEY CAMEROIN

CHAPTER X. Off to Cuba. That same afternoon found Sam Wrench at the Duke of Cornwall Hotel * to ask for another interview with Nancy Burrows. "You did not expect to see me again so soon," he said to her when they met. "The fact is, I have had some bad news from Geoffrey Stevenson. I had been counting upon him to go out to Cuba to interview Captain Mackay, who is in hospital in Havana, but he writes that he can't get leave. I was worrying over this when I had a brain wave. Why shouldn't you go?" "I? What about Mrs. Fenwick and little Peter? I couldn't leave them." "Not if we undertook to look after them?" Nancy looked doubtful. "I know that you would look after them all right, but ,I'm afraid for Dolores. What if she were to have one of her fits of depression without me on the 6pot to steer her out of it. No, but I have it." "What? Another brain wave?" "Yes. The other day Mr. Stevenson told me that Mrs. Stevenson would be delighted to have Dolores and Peter to stay with them if I should be callcd away at any time. I think that he meant it." "If that could be arranged, you wouldn't mind going on that long journey again all by yourself?" "Not a bit. I should enjoy it if I thought that it would do any good, but you know I am a perfect idiot about iegal business, and unless you coach me very carefully I ani certain to put my foot in it." "That's why I'm here this afternoon," said Sam, smiling in his relief. "You'll have no legal problems to fear. All you will have to do will bo to gather plain facta, to write everything down, as far as possible in the actual words used, and not to trust your memory of their general sense. I want you first to have an interview with Captain Mackay in the hospital ward, if he hasn't been discharged before you get there. You may have to do a bit of wangling with the house surgeon, but I can trust you to do that." 'With Dr. Salcedo? Oh, yes, he's rather a friend of mine." "Good! Now these are the questions for which you must get answers from the captain, and if his replies are not clear you must put supplementary questions until you get them clear. Don't stop to read them now; study them at your leisure and commit them to memory, but take them with you when you go to . see him. I shall want you also to give mo your opinion about him —whether he seems to you the sort of man whose honesty and truthfulness can be relied on, and, of course, while you are waiting- for a return boat I ' don't want you to twiddle your , thumbs. Pick up as much information about our case as you can. I may see Geoffrey Stevenson to-morrow, but in any case I shall write to him, and you may expect a telegram to-morrow to say whether his promise to receive Mrs. Fenwick and her child still stands good." "And. what about my boat and my ticket ?" "Mr. Stevenson will see to all that." "Am I not to see you again before I go?" "I'm afraid not. I hope to be in Paris two days hence, and my business may keep me there until after your boat . sails." Sam took the night mail to Paddington, and was afoot early next morning. His first visit was to the Central C.I.D. office at Scotland Yard, where he had asked Inspector Halloway to meet him. "I'm very glad to see you, Mr. Wrench," ' said the inspector, shaking hands with him. "I hope that your visit means that you have something important to tell me." Same shook his head. "I wish I had, Mr. Halloway. I have looked in hoping that you have been more successful than I have." "To tell you the truth, Mr. Wrench, we seem to be up againßt a dead wall, and I can assure you that it has not been for lack of hard work. That block of fiats is so arranged that the housekeeper never seems to know who goes in or out. A dozen people might have visited the dead man's fiat that evening and no one would have been any the wiser. . The housekeeper had always an excuse ready—that he was called upstairs to mend a leaky water tap; that he had to go out to buy an evening paper for Colonel somebody on the second floor; that he had to answer the telephone, which kept him out of sight of the staircase. With excuses like that he accounted for every minute of his time, but I suspect—in fact, I know — that he might have been found at a public house in the next street. We have spent a lot of time following up the firms who are supposed to have profited from inside information contained in those stolen official papers, but if they did pay money for the information we could get no proof of it. Then you remember that slip of torn paper that we found near the body, bearing part of an address. We have been going laboriously to work to find any towns which have a street beginning with the letters ' Eastl —.' We've come across Eastlake Street and Eastleigh Street in more than one, to say nothing of the metropolitan area, and we've had quiet inquiries made about No. 11 in* each case, but it has all led to nothing. Worst of all, I'm beginning to despair of finding any trace of that missing coat." "It was like that in that case of ours down in Plymouth, but at the darkest ■ moment, you remember, we had a stroke :of luck that brought us on top." "We did, and I never really give up hope when I remember how luck has so often favoured us. What has brought you to London, Mr. Wrench?" "I'm crossing to Paris to-night. I've been wondering whether your chief 'would give me a letter of introduction to the prefect of police there?" Inspector Halloway looked doubtful. "They are rather chary, about giving letters of introduction, I'm afraid, but we'can but try. Can I say that your mission may prove to be of use to us?" "I think that you can safely say that. I'm going on a fishing excursion—to find out whether Bruce Fenwick's father picked up any undesirable acquaintances while he was in Paris." . "H'm, I'm afraid that you'll come back with an empty basket." "I may, but I can't afford to leave i any stone unturned." "Still, you may pick up something ; useful, and it's a good reason for asking for an introduction. Sit here a minute while I see what can be done." In five minutes Inspector Halloway returned with his face beaming. "Here's your letter-of introduction-, Mr. Wrench : l—all written out in spotless- French." if

Sam Wrench was one of those lucky people whose health and spirits are proof against night journeys. An early cup of coffee and a roll at a cafe frequented . by postmen and railway porters in the Rue Amsterdam and a bath in the Hotel Terminus entirely restored him, and he was free to hunt for the address of Dr. Grandjean in the telephone directory. He found it without difficulty —4, Rue do la Victoire; a taxi did the rest. He was the first to be shown into the patients' waiting room. Dr. Grandjean proved to be one of those genial scientific Frenchmen who have dona more to maintain the reputation of France as a highly civilised country than any of the sorry crew of politicians, financiers, and officials who float like scum to the surface. His consulting room looked like a workshop. "What is your trouble, monsieur ? You look astonishingly well." Sam's mother had made his life a burden in his tender years by insisting upon having him taught French out of school hours to the point of grammatical accuracy if not impeccable pronunciation, and he blessed her at this moment. In his slow and careful French he explained that he had not come as a patient but as a seeker of information about one of the specialist's former patients—a Mr. James Fenwick. Happily Dr. Grandjean remembered tho case well. "Ah, yes, monsieur. Ho told me a great deal about Cuba that I did not know before. How is your friend now ?" "He is dead." "Tiens!" exclaimed the doctor in surprise. "There was nothing in his condition to cause anxiety. If he had undergone tho slight operation that I recommended he should have lived to a ripe old age." Sam hastened to explain the circumstances of the death. "I had better tell you, monsieur, the extent of my knowledge of him. It was very slight. He called here one morning and told me that my name had been given to him by the hotel manager. He detailed his symptoms to me, and I examined him. I was at once convinced that a slight operation was all that was required to restore him to health. He appeared to be very much relieved— indeed, he left me in high spirits, and everything was settled about tho operation; but a few days later I received a letter from him containing a very liberal cheque for his consultation, but adding that he had received bad news which called him back to Cuba by the next steamer', and that he could not undergo the operation. That is all I know." "Did he give you th© impression that he might be suffering from brain trouble ?" "On the contrary, he struck me as a man of almost exceptional intelligence and sound judgment. Certainly he appeared depressed when he came to me, but that was due to his anxiety about his illness; when that was relieved he quite recovered his spirits." "You knew nothing about the people he was meeting in Paris?" "Nothing at all." "At what hotel was he staying?" The doctor consulted his case book. "At tho Hotel Beau Rivagc, Rue Dumesnil, monsieur." Tho- two parted cordially—the doctor to examine a new patient; Sam to be conveyed by taxi to the Hotel Beau Rivage, which was to be his real battlefield. The hotel was unpretentious. He stood a moment at the door to look at the people going in and out. In the first! three or four minutes there were but three —two talking volubly in Italian; tho third ho guessed to belong to one of the Balkan countries, probably Rumania. He entered the hotel and approached the desk. The clerk pounced upon him with an ingratiating smile. "Room, sir? Room with bath?" The man was proud of his smattering of English. Sam asked for the manager; the clerk retreated crestfallen to an inner den, and engaged in a discussion with its unseen occupant. Presently the great man made his appearance, washing his hands with invisible soap, and wreathing his features with a forced smile. He spoke 110 English, but Sam drew him into the lounge and explained the object of his visit in slow and laborious French. "You say the gentleman was here in the October of the year-before last, monsieur ? Ah! that was when we still had English visitors. I made it my business to suit the convenience of English tourists, and the hotel was always full. Yes, monsieur, winter and summer, it was tho same; the English liked us and Nve liked them." But he looked blank at the mention of the name of Fenwick, and he retired to refresh his memory from his books. He returned from his den triumphant. "I have found him, monsieur. Mr. James Fenwick, a British subject, from Cuba. He stayed in this hotel from the fifth to the thirteenth of October two years ago. I now remember the gentleman quite well. He asked me for the name of the best medical specialist for abdominal complaints and I recommended, Dr. Grandjean. He consulted that doctor and he told me that he had recommended an operation, which would restore him to health; but when I asked him about the operation a few days later he said that he had changed his mind and would not have it after all. I ventured to remonstrate with him, but he told me that he had had bad news from home and must return to Cuba by the next boat. He asked me to book his passage to Havana from St. Nazaire." "Did he have any visitors while he was staying here?" "That is a question that I cannot answer, monsieur, but we will ask the day porter, who has a better memory than mine. I will call him." The porter approached them obviously 011 the defensive, imagining, no doubt, that he was being called_ to reply to some complaint against him. "Listen, my friend," said his employer. "You remember the sick Englishman from Cuba who occupied No. 14?" "The gentleman who always sent me to call a taxi for him during his first visit ?" "His first visit? Was he here twice?" "Yes, monsieur, he was here in the autumn two years ago and again in the following spring. He was looking very ill that last time." "Tiens! I had forgotten the second visit. Pierre has a wonderful memory." "Will you permit me to put a few questions to him, and then I need not detain you any longer from your work ?" "Certainly," said the manager, taking the hint: "Pierre will tell you all that he remembers." But Sam Wrench was taking no chances. He knew that the memories of French hotel servants became doubly active under stimulus. He took out his pocket book ostentatiously. "I am detaining you from your work, Pierre, but you will find that it was worth your while." He took out a fifty franc, note. "Did that sick gentleman from Cuba receive any visitors- while- he -was here (the first time?"

"He did, monsieur—more than once—a thin Englishman, who used to come with a big, powerful man, who never spoke." "Did they give their names?" "No, monsieur. I did not ask them their names. I telephoned to the gentleman's room and he came down to them." "Did they appear to he intimate with him?" The porter pursed his lips. "I observed no cordiality, monsieur. He went with them willingly enough, but for that matter so does a culprit with a couplc of agents of police." . "You mean that he seemed to be afraid of them?" "I cannot answer that question, monsieur. He did not seem enchanted to see thesm. The big man was not the sort of person that a gentleman like Monsieur Fenwick would choose as his friend. He looked rough and unpolished. Would monsieur like me to tell him every detail I remember, however small? Well, one morning the big man pickcd up a newspaper from my desk and I noticed his hands; they were rougher than mine— hands that had done rough' work, if you understand me." "Have you ever come across sailors— British sailors?" <r Many of them, monsieur. Is not Cherbourg my native town?" "Then you. may have noticed their peculiar rolling walk when they are on shore. Did you notice anything in this big man's walk that reminded you of them ?" "You are right, Monsieur. One day I watched him roll down the street to call a taxi. Why did I not think of it? He walked just like the English sailors in Cherbourg." "And the other man? What was he like?" "Oh, he was different. He was quite correct in his demeanour and he spoke a little French." "Did you hear at what hotel they were staying'?" "No, monsieur; they never mentioned it." "You spoke to the manager of a second visit of Mr. Fenwick to this hotel. Did he have the same visitors on that occasion ?" "During that second visit only the thin man called to see him. I saw nothing of the other. You must understand, monsieur, that during that second visit Monsieur Fenwick seemed to be very ill. He walked slowly, like a very sick man. Nevertheless, when his friend came for him he never refused to go out with him. The man came to the hotel every morning and kept Monsieur Fenwick out until late at night. I told him once that he was unwise to be out so much in the severe weather considering the state of his health. He smiled faintly, but made no reply." The fifty-franc note changed hands, to the grateful satisfaction of the Norman porter, and Sam parted with him, feeling sure thah his note would be safely lodged in the foot of a certain woollen Btocking ere night. He had spent a useful morning, but he could get no farther "without trying his luck at the police headquarters if he was to find out the hotel that had sheltered James Fenwick's mysterious visitors, and he could not'leave Paris until he had. (To be continued daily.)