Part 28 (1/2)

Some gentlemen to see you, said the proprietor, and before there was time for a move from the inside, he flung open the door. Instantly, we pushed in.

It was a sitting-room, evidently the outer apartment of a suite. In two arm-chairs, both, as it happened, facing or half-facing the door, were a man and woman staring up at us in astonishment. The man was dressed in English tweeds but his heavy-jowled face was pasty and pouchy. At first, looking at that couple, one might have thought them a middle-aged English tourist and his wife, normal, nice, provincial people. But somehow there was something wrong. I could not define it then, I cannot now, but I was aware that something unpleasant distinguished this couple from the type they so nearly resembled. Stute turned quickly to Beef, and whispered Fairfax?

The Sergeant nodded, thereby fulfilling his whole purpose in our visit to France.

When the man spoke, his voice had that curious closed ring in it which is noticeable in people who form their speech too far back in their throat.

What's this? he said.

Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Freeman. But I would like to ask you a few questions. I'm Detective-Inspector Stute.

But. . . .

Yes. You're quite right. This is Sergeant Beef of Braxham. An unfortunate combination from your point of view, Mr. Fairfax. But there you are.

I don't know. ...

No, of course you don't yet, Mr. Ferris. We all have a lot to explain to one another. And as none of us want to waste time perhaps it would dc best if I told you first what we know. Then you won t have to waste time giving us a lot of unnecessary information. In the first place we know that your real name is Ferris, and that you have done time for drug-peddling. In the second place we know that you are identical with that much more respectable Mr. Hugo Freeman who lived for a time in Long Highbury and thus got a pa.s.sport ready for any emergency'. And thirdly we know that you are also that piscatorial Mr. Fairfax who used to stay at the Riverside Hotel, Braxham. We also know that you were receiving drugs from young Rogers. But there is quite a lot which we don't know and which you are going to tell us.

I watched the pair of them. The man had sunk back in his chair and turned a little pale, but was not showing any sign of panic or defiance. He was, I thought, considering, fairly collectedly, just how to treat all this.

The woman deliberately sipped her c.o.c.ktail. She had a raw hard face, with a large mouth and wide nostrils. She was quite unshaken.

There was a long silence. At last Stute continued.

To come direct to the point, I will ask you straight away, who was killed by you and Rogers that Wednesday night?

Fairfax seemed relieved at the question. Look here, he said, what are you really after? Drugs or murder?

They were almost his first words, and I respected his perception and decision. He did not waste time with a lot of stupid bluff. He did not deny his triple ident.i.ty. He knew that Stute was not blurring, on that point, anyway.

Both, said Stute.

Then I can't help you.

No?

No.

Another long silence.

But I'll tell you this much, said Fairfax at last The first I knew of any murder was when I read it in the papers. When I left Braxham to the best of my knowledge young Rogers had no more idea of murdering anyone than I had.

That, I felt, was true.

What time did you leave Braxham?

On the 2.50.

How far did you go?