The Floating Admiral - Agatha Christie [46]
The door opened and Emery poked in his melancholy head.
“Here’s two newspaper gentlemen waiting to see the Inspector.”
Rudge was about to consign the newspaper gentlemen to a warm spot, when it occurred to him that all God’s creatures have their uses. He glanced at the card held out to him, and observed that it bore the magic words, Evening Gazette.
“I’ll see them,” he said, shortly.
The two newspaper gentlemen were ushered in—a breezy man with a cropped head and horn-rimmed spectacles, the upper portion of whose face appeared to have been darkened by some ineffectual form of sunburn application (“all handsome men are slightly sunburned”), and a morose man with a camera.
“Now,” said Rudge, “how did you boys get on to this?”
Cropped-head grinned.
“Information received, eh, Inspector? ‘If it’s not in the Gazette then it hasn’t happened yet.’ We had it on the streets in the twelve-thirty. Do your best for us, won’t you?”
“Well,” said Rudge. He thought for a moment and then gave them as much information as he thought was bound to come out in any case.
“That’s O.K.,” said Cropped-head. “Now, as regards yourself, Inspector. Our readers will want to know all about you. Perhaps you would be good enough to come and be photographed in the boat-house? Adds interest to the picture, you know. Well, that’s awfully good of you. It won’t take a minute. Is that the Admiral’s boat? Just point carelessly towards it. That’s fine. Make a good picture, eh, Tom?”
Rudge, in spite of himself, felt rather flattered.
“We shall say, of course, that you have the case well in hand and that there’s obviously no need to call in Scotland Yard. Just so. Now, how about this niece? Could we get a word with her at all?”
“No,” said Rudge. “As a matter of fact,” he added handsomely, “I don’t mind telling you something about her.”
The reporter was eagerly attentive.
“She went off to London this morning,” said the Inspector impressively, “and got married—to a man called Arthur Holland, a trader, from China.”
“Did she? Quick work. That’ll make a good story. Why the haste?”
“I can’t tell you that yet. But look here. If I let you have that story exclusively, will you do something for me?”
“Sure thing.”
“I want to find out about Admiral Penistone’s past career. Why he sent in his papers at forty-three, and why he rejoined the Navy afterwards and all about it.”
“Oh! I can tell you something about that,” the reporter laughed. “I got that out of a man I know in the Chinese Embassy. The old boy got into trouble in Hong Kong in 1911. Some private matter. Something to do with a woman. One of the things that aren’t done by naval officers. He was requested to send in his papers. No public scandal—you know the sort of thing. My man didn’t know all the details, but he promised to get them for me. I’ll let you have anything I get hold of. I dare say we shan’t print it all, because some of the parties may be alive, but I’ll send you the dope on the whole thing. And, I say—if there’s anything coming along that you feel you can let us have straight from the gee-gee’s mouth, you will, won’t you? That’s a bargain.”
Rudge agreed readily enough. This was a great deal more hopeful than unwinding red tape from the Admiralty. Trouble in Hong Kong in 1911? That explained matters. No doubt as Penistone was a smart officer they were glad enough to let him rejoin in 1914. But it would have made a difference to him, naturally. Soured the old boy’s temper a bit, no doubt. Was it possible that the murder was the aftermath of that old affair? It seemed a long time to keep up resentment, but where Chinks were concerned you never knew. And, by the way, Holland had lately come from China. What was that Mrs. Emery had said about Holland? He had said he might walk over to Rundel Croft after eleven. Suppose he had done so?
Obviously Holland and Elma must be got hold of. They would have to be subpnaed for the inquest in any