News of Paul Temple. Francis Durbridge

‘Darling, I’m not joking,’ she assured him seriously. ‘I really have seen Iris – there’s no mistaking her. I was coming out of the bathroom when a door opened at the far end of the corridor – and out stepped Iris.’

      ‘Did she see you?’ broke in Temple swiftly.

      Steve wrinkled her forehead in some perplexity.

      ‘I don’t know,’ she had to admit. ‘I have a feeling that she did.’

      ‘But—but what happened?’ Temple was completely mystified.

      ‘There’s a staircase at the end of the corridor, near her room. Before I could say anything she had turned her back to me and disappeared.’

      ‘Why didn’t you call to her?’

      ‘I was so startled – it was like one of those dreams when you feel quite helpless.’

      ‘It’s certainly very peculiar,’ reflected Temple. ‘What the devil would Iris be doing here?’

      Suddenly, in the distance, a gong boomed.

      ‘Dinner! And I haven’t even started to unpack!’ cried Steve. Temple appeared not to have heard. He was sitting on the edge of a chair gazing thoughtfully out of the window – though he actually saw nothing of the view so highly praised by his hostess. Steve may have made a mistake about Iris, but it was hardly likely. What could she be doing in a remote Scottish inn! Why had she thrown over the best part of her career to penetrate the wilds of Scotland? Why…

      He was startled by Steve’s hand on his shoulder. ‘Paul, I’ve just remembered about that letter. Hadn’t you better inquire—?’

      He smiled at her. ‘I have.’

      ‘Then there is a John Richmond?’

      ‘Certainly.’

      Steve considered this.

      ‘Paul, you don’t think there could be any connection between the young man, those two men who stopped us, and Iris?’

      Temple frowned. Once again the gong boomed and almost simultaneously there was a knock on the door. When Temple opened it, Ernie Weston stood outside.

      ‘I beg your pardon, sir, but I believe you wanted to see Mr Richmond. I brought him up now because I thought you might—’

      ‘Oh yes, please ask him to come in.’

      The man who had been waiting just along the corridor came forward.

      ‘Why, Sir—’ began Temple. Then stopped at an urgent sign from the visitor.

      ‘Sir Graham!’ cried Steve, before they could suppress her exclamation.

      ‘There seems to be some mistake,’ said Sir Graham Forbes politely. ‘My name is Richmond. John Richmond.’

       CHAPTER II

       Concerning Z.4

       1

      Temple was the first to appreciate that there was a serious element to the situation. He recognised an urgent note in Sir Graham’s voice. Obviously, the Chief Commissioner was not anxious to have his identity revealed. As there was every indication of Steve starting an inquiry of this nature, Temple suddenly broke into a rather nonsensical chuckle.

      ‘Really, sir, we must beg your forgiveness,’ he grinned. ‘By Timothy, I’ve never seen anything like it…’ He regarded Sir Graham quizzically, his head on one side. ‘The same chin, the same nose…Why, he’s just like old Forbes, isn’t he, Steve? The absolute “spit” of old Forbes – just look at his hair…well, I’m damned!’

      He contrived to shoot a warning glance at Steve while Ernie Weston was looking at Sir Graham.

      ‘What the devil is all this about?’ snapped Forbes irritably, addressing the landlord. ‘Who are this lady and gentleman?’

      Ernie Weston was palpably perplexed.

      ‘A Mr and Mrs Temple, sir,’ he informed Sir Graham. ‘Arrived about half an hour ago.’ He looked at each of them in turn. ‘There seems to have been some sort of mistake, doesn’t there?’ he suggested.

      ‘I thought you said they wanted to see me,’ growled Forbes.

      ‘Well, ’e said ’e did want to see you,’ protested Ernie. He turned on Temple rather fiercely. ‘I say, what’s the game?’ he almost snarled. ‘You said I was to give a message to…’

      ‘It’s all right,’ laughed Temple. ‘There’s nothing to get excited about. This gentleman reminded us of someone else, that’s all.’

      Ernie made no effort to move. ‘But this is the gent you wanted to see – Mr Richmond—’ he began in puzzled tones.

      By this time, Steve had begun to realise the position.

      He broke off suddenly, as if realising Weston’s presence for the first time. ‘It’s all right, Weston,’ he murmured casually. But Ernie was obviously loath to accept this dismissal.

      ‘We don’t serve dinner after a quarter to,’ he announced.

      ‘We shall bear that in mind,’ replied Temple, politely holding the door for him.

      ‘All right,’ said the landlord, retreating reluctantly.

      Temple watched him down the corridor, then carefully closed the door. Steve sank on the bed with a sigh of relief, while Sir Graham perched on the arm of a chair.

      ‘Sir Graham, I’m most terribly sorry,’ Temple apologised. ‘It was extremely stupid of us both to blurt out like that.’

      ‘That’s all right,’ said Forbes gruffly. ‘You covered it up well.’ He ruminated rather gloomily for a few seconds, then suddenly asked: ‘What the devil are you two doing here?’

      Temple and Steve exchanged a brief smile.

      ‘Well, if it comes to that—’ began the novelist.

      ‘I know, I know!’ Forbes forestalled him. ‘Don’t ask me, Temple. Don’t ask me!’ He drew a hand across his forehead rather wearily, then continued: ‘But seriously, what made you two visit Inverdale? You couldn’t have had an inkling…it isn’t possible…’

      ‘You remember we told you we were coming to Scotland,’ Steve reminded him.

      ‘So you did. Yes, I’d forgotten about that,’ Sir Graham admitted. But there was a dubious note in his voice.

      ‘Sir Graham, don’t you think you might tell us why you are staying here under the name of Richmond?’ suggested Temple mildly.

      ‘Yes, that’s another thing, Temple. You asked to see Mr John Richmond. I am John Richmond, though how the devil—’

      ‘Paul, give him the letter,’ interrupted Steve. ‘Then we can go down to dinner.’ There was a note of urgency in her voice.

      ‘What letter?’ demanded Forbes quickly, looking from one to the other.

      ‘A letter from a young man named Lindsay—David Lindsay,’ explained Temple.

      ‘For me?’ queried Forbes in some surprise.

      Temple nodded.

      ‘I don’t know anyone named David Lindsay. There must be some mistake.’

      Steve was quite taken aback. ‘You don’t know anyone called Lindsay?’ she repeated in amazement.

      ‘No,’ said Forbes decisively.

      ‘Is