The Floating Admiral - Agatha Christie [97]
“You were in Hong Kong when he was stationed there, sir, weren’t you?”
Sir Wilfrid nodded gravely. “Yes, I was. And when a certain incident took place. But no doubt you know all about that already?”
“Yes, we’ve heard about that. Did the Admiral ever refer to that incident to you, sir?”
“He did. Frequently,” replied Sir Wilfrid dryly.
“Yes, I understand it was a bit of a bee in his bonnet. Do you agree with his idea, sir, that there was a good deal more behind it than ever came out?”
“I wish I could,” said Sir Wilfrid, looking a little distressed. “But the facts were too plain. And I happen to know the authorities made a very searching investigation. It was always my belief that this idea of Admiral Penistone’s was due to a kind of obstinate pride. It was his one lapse, you see, in a thoroughly honourable life; and he simply refused to face it.”
“Then you don’t fancy there was any possibility of the Admiral’s having been impersonated on that occasion?”
“None. To anyone with even as little acquaintance as myself of service conditions, the notion’s simply moonshine. Why, there were some of his own men there. How could they have been mistaken? No, I’m sorry to have to say so, Inspector, but Captain Penistone had no one else to thank but himself for the affair. That was the opinion of everyone on the spot. But in any case, this is all old history. It can’t have anything to do with his death.”
“No, of course not,” said the Inspector tactfully. “Then you can’t give me any information about the nephew, which is what I really came to see you about? You knew he was in Hong Kong at about that time too?”
“By Jove, I remember now. Yes, he did come to dine with us once. A tall, good-looking fellow. I remember. Pleasant chap, too. I heard he’d rather gone to the dogs, afterwards. Pity.”
“Had he a beard, sir?”
“A beard?” repeated Sir Wilfrid, puzzled. “I don’t think so. I don’t really remember. Why?”
“Oh, just a small point. Then you never saw him again?”
“No, I think he only came once. But I wouldn’t swear. We used to entertain such a lot in those days,” said Sir Wilfrid, rather ruefully. “He might have come again, but I don’t remember it.”
“I see, sir. Thank you. Now there’s one other point. Were you by any chance in the garden here last Tuesday evening?”
“The night of Admiral Penistone’s death? Yes, almost certainly; though again I couldn’t swear to it. But unless it’s raining, I always have a stroll round the roses after dinner. So far as I remember it wasn’t raining that night, so I expect I did. Why do you ask?”
“Because we have information that the Admiral landed from his boat at Whynmouth steps at about eleven o’clock that night, and as you know, they’re almost opposite this garden. I was wondering if by any lucky chance you’d seen him and could confirm that?”
“No,” said Sir Wilfrid decidedly. “Not so late as that, I’m afraid. And I’m pretty sure I had a couple of friends in that night. (Funny, isn’t it, how hard it is to say for certain what one was doing only a week ago?) But what’s all this about the Admiral being seen in Whynmouth that night? I’d gathered he was killed up-stream somewhere.”
“Why did you think that, sir?”
“Well, I don’t know. Wasn’t the boat floating down-stream at four in the morning? I took it for granted that must have meant it had been up-stream.”
With a slightly superior air the Inspector explained the tidal vagaries of the River Whyn, and pointed his remarks by accompanying Sir Wilfrid over his own rather dishevelled lawn to the water’s edge and illustrating his meaning on the spot. Sir Wilfrid, a somewhat mild little man, had the air of promising to know better next time.
Having delivered his lesson, the Inspector took his leave, with the unhappy reflection that he had really learned nothing at all from his visit. Sir Wilfrid’s private opinion regarding the Superintendent’s “smart piece of work