Near Quebec: Sunday, 31 July 1910
Inspector Walter Dew awoke early on Sunday morning in the small guest house where Inspector Caroux had arranged for him to stay. He had been kept up late the night before while the landlady had put clean sheets on his bed, something of a ruse, he felt, since she had known all day that he would be staying there. During the interminable length of time it took for her to finish, he was forced to sit in the living room with the other guests, each of whom stared at him with a mixture of awe and terror, peppering him with questions about Dr Crippen. Unlike the passengers on the Laurentic, however, most of whom had seemed to be concerned with the method he had used to do away with his wife and the gruesome discovery in the cellar, the Canadians appeared to be obsessed with what would happen to Crippen upon his return to London.
‘He’ll be hanged, of course,’ suggested one.
‘Almost immediately,’ said another.
‘No need for a trial, I shouldn’t think.’
‘There is always need for a trial, madam,’ said Dew, who did not much like the idea of Hawley Crippen swinging from the end of a rope, regardless of what he might have done. ‘We live in a country where one is innocent until proven guilty. As, I believe, do you.’
‘But Inspector, surely, when someone has committed such a hideous crime, there’s no point waiting around? When you think about it, taking someone’s life in such a—’
‘All the more reason for us to be slow to judgement,’ he replied. ‘After all, murder is a capital offence which holds with it the mandatory punishment of death. If we are not sure that what we are doing is correct, then we merely reduce ourselves to the murderer’s level.’
They seemed disappointed with his answer, hoping for something a little more graphic. ‘Will he be shot or hanged?’ asked an ancient hag with the most wrinkled skin Dew had ever observed on a human being.
‘Hanged, I expect. If he’s found guilty. But I cannot stress too much how—’
‘Have you witnessed a hanging before, Inspector?’
‘Several.’
‘Are they very exciting?’
He shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not at all. They are tragic. They take place because someone has already lost his or her life, and they end with another death. They are nothing to take either pleasure or satisfaction in.’ He was becoming convinced that his fellow guests had clubbed together and paid the landlady to take a long time preparing his room in order for them to quiz him some more.
‘What time will you be going down to the harbour in the morning?’ asked the human wrinkle again. ‘No one has seen such excitement in Quebec in the longest time. We can’t wait to see what happens.’
‘I will not be arresting Dr Crippen on Canadian soil,’ he stated firmly. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you. So the time of my departure is of little or no relevance.’
‘Not arresting him here? Well, where then?’
He considered it, realizing there was nothing to be lost by telling them; after all, the Montrose had received her instructions and was effectively cut off from the rest of the world until she docked. ‘I will be taking a boat out to Dr Crippen’s ship and arresting him on board,’ he said.
‘Oh no! Surely not,’ they cried together, disappointed.
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘But you’re ruining it for everyone.’
‘Madam, this is not a theatrical production to be played out for the amusement of all. This is the arrest of a man on a charge of murder. I apologize if I cannot make it more entertaining, but there we are.’
‘Well, it’s a shame for us,’ said the landlady, bustling in now, having obviously been listening from the hallway. ‘Your room’s ready,’ she added irritably, as if the whole thing had been too much trouble for her.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Then I will wish you all a good night.’
Despite the earliness of the hour when he arose, the same group of people was gathered in the parlour when he made his way through, the following morning. He stared at them in surprise; they appeared not to have moved since the night before, but on this occasion they did not question him but merely followed him with their eyes while he left for the police station, staring after him as if he was no better than Dr Crippen himself.
Inspector Caroux had also risen early and was dressed in his finest uniform, aware that later in the day photographs would be taken. He had used a little wax on his moustache and tonic on his hair. The scent he gave off was overpowering and made Walter Dew take a step back in dismay, the aftershave catching in his throat and making him cough.
‘Such a day we have ahead of us, Inspector,’ he said. ‘Can I call you Walter?’
‘If you like.’
‘I have arranged for a boat to take us out there at ten o’clock. The Montrose has already been in touch to confirm that they will be coming to a full stop.’
‘To take us out there?’ asked Dew. ‘Us who?’
‘Why, you and I, Walter. As the senior representatives of Scotland Yard and of the Canadian police force in Quebec, I naturally assumed that you would want—’
‘No,’ he said firmly, shaking his head. ‘That won’t be necessary. I’ll go alone. Just give me a man to sail the boat and that’s all I’ll need.’
‘But Walter!’ he cried, disappointed. ‘The man is a crazed killer. You don’t know what you’re walking into.’
‘He is not a crazed killer,’ Dew said sternly. ‘And he’s not a cannibal either before you suggest it.’
‘Mon Dieu! I never knew that he was one.’
‘Well, he isn’t.’
‘So why did you suggest he was?’
‘He’s a perfectly reasonable fellow who has perhaps made one mistake in life, that’s all. I assure you, I am in no danger whatsoever over there. After all, Captain Kendall will be present together with any number of his officers that I may require. But from what little I know of Dr Crippen, I do not believe he will be any trouble.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ said Caroux in a petulant voice, like a child who has not been given his treat. ‘But if he chops you up and eats you too, you will have no one to blame but yourself.’
‘I’ll bear it in mind.’
Crowds saw him off as he stepped into a small twin-engined boat and was driven away from Quebec by an old sailor who seemed to be the only person with no interest whatsoever in what was taking place. If anything, he seemed irritated by the vast number of people shouting and cheering as they left the harbour, and he barely spoke to Inspector Dew as they made their way out to sea. For his part, Dew was perfectly happy to maintain a silence. He sat against the side of the boat, his arms stretched out on either side of him, enjoying the sensation of the wind blowing in his face and the smell of the sea air. A little over an hour later, the Montrose appeared in the distance and he sat bolt upright, his stomach starting to betray his nerves a little as the final chapter in his pursuit of Dr Hawley Harvey Crippen approached.
‘Yonder,’ said the sailor, pointing towards the ship, before lapsing back into silence. Finally they slowed down and pulled up alongside her. One of the officers had been assigned to watch out for their appearance, and he directed them towards the ladder which ran down one side of the ship, out of sight of any of the passengers. Thanking his guide, Inspector Dew set foot on the steps and climbed aboard.
‘Inspector Dew?’ said the officer, as if he could be anyone else.
‘Yes, hello. I’m here to see Captain Kendall.’
‘Of course, sir. Step this way, please.’
First Officer Billy Carter had informed the officers the previous night about their mysterious passengers and they had been sworn to secrecy until the arrest was made. Aware of the punishments Captain Kendall could hand out if the mood took him, they maintained their silence.
Dew was brought immediately to the captain’s cabin, where he and Billy Carter were sitting, enjoying a cup of tea. This morning they were all smiles and Kendall could hardly contain his joy.
‘I’ll be sorry to lose you, Carter,’ he said, not really meaning it but willing to be magnanimous. ‘You’ve been a good first officer on this voyage. Kept our little secret well. I’ll be mentioning it to your superiors.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Carter. ‘But I expect you’ll be glad to have Mr Sorenson back. Delighted to hear the news, by the way, sir.’
‘Yes, it’s excellent, isn’t it?’ the captain said, beaming, his cheeks pink with pleasure. A wire had come through on the Marconi earlier that morning from Mr Sorenson himself, recovered and released from hospital and ready to resume his duties on the Montrose once she returned to Antwerp. The news had been everything that Captain Kendall had been waiting for, and he had hardly stopped marching around the ship since in order to burn off the excess energy with which his excitement was providing him.
‘You are close friends, aren’t you?’ Carter said suspiciously, trying to learn a little more about the relationship.
‘Well, he’s an excellent first officer, you see,’ said Kendall in a distant voice, as if he had given the matter almost no thought at all, as if the state of Mr Sorenson’s health had not obsessed him since the morning they had set sail. ‘Not that you weren’t, of course, but we’ve travelled together a long time. We’re like an old husband and wife. We know each other’s ways so well that we’re lost without the other.’
‘Indeed,’ said Carter, trying to suppress a smile. He was thinking how their relationship was nothing like that of a husband and wife, as he recalled his own marriage, but he stopped himself from saying anything when he considered that perhaps Kendall had a point. ‘Do you have anniversaries?’ he asked mischievously. ‘Give each other presents? Paper for the first, silver for the tenth and so on?’
Captain Kendall raised an eyebrow suspiciously, wondering whether he was being mocked, but he was prevented from saying anything by a tap on the door. ‘Come in,’ he roared, and the door opened to reveal his visitor. ‘And you must be Inspector Dew,’ he said, standing up and shaking his hand. ‘We meet at last.’
‘I am,’ the newcomer replied. ‘Delighted to meet you, Captain.’
‘This is my first officer, Mr Carter.’
‘Mr Carter,’ he said, nodding and shaking his hand too.
‘Well, the moment of truth, eh?’ said Kendall. ‘Imagine if I’d been wrong all along.’
Dew laughed quickly. ‘Let’s hope not,’ he said. ‘Have you any idea how the world is waiting for this? We’re all celebrities. I assure you, Captain Kendall, you’ll be a hero for discovering him.’
He puffed out his chest and beamed. ‘Kind of you to say so, Inspector, but I was only doing my job. Now, what’s the best way to do this? They’re staying in one of the first-class cabins. Calling themselves Mr John Robinson and his son Edmund. Shall we go down there?’
Inspector Dew shook his head. ‘I’d rather not involve them both,’ he said. ‘Would it be all right to send someone to the cabin and ask Dr Crippen—Mr Robinson, I mean—to join you here in your cabin? Then, when he arrives, I can make the arrest without Miss LeNeve being present or any of the other passengers being put in danger.’
Kendall shrugged. ‘As you like, Inspector,’ he said. ‘Now?’
‘Now.’
‘Mr Carter, be so kind as to ask Mr Robinson to join me here.’
‘On what pretext, sir?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said irritably. ‘Make something up. Use your imagination. Just don’t tell him the truth, whatever you do. And get back here with him as quickly as possible. Also, tell a few officers to keep an eye out and, after you both come in here, they can stand outside the cabin in case there’s any trouble.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Carter stepped outside and, a bundle of excited nerves, made his way to the first-class cabins.
‘Nervous, Inspector?’ Kendall asked.
‘Not particularly,’ he replied. ‘Hopeful would be a better word.’
And despite himself he couldn’t decide where that hope lay: in the idea that Mr Robinson really was Dr Crippen, or that he was actually an innocent man anyway and the truth of Cora’s death had still eluded him? They waited, side by side, for Billy Carter to return.
Hawley and Ethel were busy packing their belongings when the knock came on their cabin door. They had brought only three suitcases with them onto the Montrose and this constituted all the worldly belongings they had decided to keep. Most of the furniture at 39 Hilldrop Crescent had been rented from the landlord, Mr Micklefield, and Hawley Crippen had never been a man much interested in possessions. Ethel had decided to leave most of her things behind; when she considered it, she realized that almost everything she owned had once belonged to her parents and she had continued to hold on to them out of mere sentimental attachment. All they needed were some clothes and their money and, fortunately, they had plenty of the latter. Hawley had been a scrupulous saver over the years and had kept much of his wealth from the eyes of Cora, while Ethel had held on to her savings as well as her inheritance. There was no question that they would be able to purchase a nice home in Canada and begin their new lives together in comfort.
‘I can’t believe we’re almost there,’ Ethel said, checking her watch as she sealed one of the suitcases. ‘This voyage seems to have gone on for ever.’
‘Well, thankfully we will never have to see any of these people again after today,’ Hawley replied. To Ethel, he had seemed a little distant all morning, as if his mind was concentrating on something else.
‘And I can become a woman again,’ she said. ‘Really, it was quite entertaining pretending to be Edmund Robinson, but I have had absolutely enough of him. I think I will celebrate my liberation by buying some new dresses in Quebec.’
‘We will be happy there, won’t we?’ he asked. ‘I can trust you?’
‘Of course you can, Hawley. Why ever would you ask such a thing?’
He looked at her, and he realized that the moment had finally come. All this time he had waited and prayed for her to tell him the truth but his hopes had come to nothing; he loved her desperately and needed to clear the air before they reached Canada. For a long time he had considered whether it was worthwhile opening this can of worms; after all, there was always the possibility that, some time in the future, it could come between them. Was it better to feign ignorance of the truth?
‘We have to be honest with each other, Ethel,’ he said. ‘You do understand that, don’t you? From the moment we set foot on dry land we can never tell each other a lie. That’s the only way our relationship can survive. And anything that’s happened in the past, well, it’s in the past. We don’t need to refer to it again after today. But if there’s anything you want to tell me, now is the time to do so.’
She stared at him in surprise, wrinkling her nose at the strange nature of his comments. She could not tell what he was getting at. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hawley,’ she said. ‘I don’t have any secrets from you.’
‘Nor do I from you, Ethel. And I believe I know all your secrets. But somehow I would like to hear them from your own lips.’
She shivered. ‘You’re scaring me, Hawley,’ she said, unable to catch his eye. ‘What’s wrong with you? Are you ill?’
‘No, I’m fine,’ he said, smiling and putting his arms around her. ‘Just be aware that I know you love me and that I love you, and nothing can break that apart. You have done so much for me and, if it came to it, I would lay down my life for you.’
‘But we are unbreakable, Hawley,’ she said, confused.
He wrapped his arms tighter around her and pressed her close to his body, leaning his head down and clutching her with such force that she could scarcely breathe in his grip. Pressing his lips to her ear he whispered in a sharp, quick voice: ‘I know what you did, Ethel. I know what you did to Cora.’
It took a moment for the words to settle into her mind, and when they did her eyes opened wide and she struggled against him, trying to wrestle free from his grasp, but he held her too tightly. She could not believe what he had just said and she felt almost afraid of him, as if he, not she, was the murderer of Cora Crippen and he was now preparing to claim a second victim.
‘Hawley,’ she said, her voice muffled against his chest. ‘Hawley, let me go.’
She kicked loose and stumbled backwards across the cabin, her face pale, her real hair slipping down from under Edmund’s wig. She could hardly bear to look at his face in case he hated her, but finally her eyes moved there; he was watching her with a gentle smile. With understanding. With appreciation.
‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘I’ve known for some time now.’
‘How?’ she asked, gasping. ‘How did you know?’
He shrugged. ‘Cora and I were married for a long time,’ he said. ‘And you and I worked in the pharmacy together for many years. Do you think I can’t tell the difference between your handwritings?’
‘I don’t understand,’ she said, her legs feeling weak beneath her.
‘The letter, Ethel,’ he said. ‘The letter you wrote, supposedly from Cora, telling me that she was leaving me. I knew you’d written it. I always knew.’
‘But you never said anything.’
‘Because I hoped you would tell me yourself. I hoped you’d trust me enough. And now I’m telling you that you can.’
Ethel gasped. He had known all along and never said? It was incredible. ‘How long?’ she asked finally, sitting down on the bed to prevent herself from collapsing. ‘How long have you known?’
‘That first night when I stayed in your home,’ he said. ‘The night you killed her. I woke up while you were leaving. I could see you dressing and putting on the overcoat and hat. When you passed by the bedroom door, I saw you were wearing a false moustache. The first appearance of Master Edmund Robinson, I believe. Although a somewhat older version.’
‘Hawley, don’t . . .’
‘I couldn’t understand what you were doing, so, the moment you left, I dressed quickly and followed you, leaving the door on the latch so that I could get back in. I followed you all the way to Hilldrop Crescent and waited outside. I saw you pulling a bottle out while you were still in the street—I assume that was the poison—and I could tell that you thought there was no one around. Instantly I knew what you were planning; it was as if I could already read your mind.’ He bowed his head regretfully and sat down beside her on the bed. ‘I wanted to stop you,’ he said, ‘but at the same time I wanted you to see it through. I knew it was the only way we could be together. And I knew I could never do it myself.’
Tears were streaming down Ethel’s face. ‘I did it for you,’ she said. ‘For us.’
‘I know. And I let you. I am as guilty as you are.’
‘But you never said.’
‘I hoped you’d tell me yourself. I kept up the illusion with you that Cora had left me because I was waiting for you to tell me the truth. I lied to Inspector Dew. I did everything as if I was an innocent party, but I am not. I may not have been the one who killed her, Ethel, but by God I was the happiest one to see her dead.’
‘Don’t you hate me?’
‘How could I?’
‘Because of what I’ve done. It’s monstrous.’
Hawley laughed. ‘She was the monster,’ he said, between gritted teeth. ‘She deserved to die. I thought you might have guessed that I knew.’
‘Never.’
‘Really, Ethel,’ he said, teasing her gently. ‘That business with the hat box. It was a little macabre, wasn’t it? At one point I thought you were going to keep her head with us for the rest of our lives.’
Ethel stared at him and felt a chill run through her body. Although she had of course been the one to poison, dissect and bury Cora Crippen, there was a certain sinister aspect to him now that unsettled her. She had done what she had done as a crime of passion, in order to be with the man she loved. She had protected him from the truth and he had deceived her entirely, proving to be an even better liar than she was. And he had followed her own deceptions with something approaching amusement, as if the whole thing was little more than a game. She looked around, convinced that the porthole was open because the room felt as if it had been filled with ice.
‘I’m not sure I understand you,’ she said nervously. ‘Why would you keep so quiet about it?’
‘Because I love you, Ethel,’ he said simply. ‘And because I believe that we can be happy together. As I know you do. We are each other’s only chance of happiness. And I would gladly lay down my life for you if I had to. But I hoped that you would trust me enough to tell me what you had done. I gave you the entire duration of the voyage to be honest with me, but I knew this morning that you would keep it a secret. And I wanted no more secrets between us.’
‘The day Inspector Dew came to see me,’ she said. ‘When you were outside under the tree. You knew then?’
‘I came back inside, shivering from the rain, and had to pretend that I understood why you wanted to see him alone. In my mind, I kept thinking we only had a few days to get out of London. If you hadn’t suggested going anyway, I would have. We were of the same mind all along, Ethel, only you didn’t know it. We’re the same, you and I. It proves how much we are supposed to be together.’
She swallowed. For the first time she felt a degree of guilt over what she had done. Taking another person’s life. Her stomach churned and she felt sick at the way she had committed the act, her callousness, her cruelty, the macabre way she had disposed of the body. This is who I’ve become? she thought. This is what I can do for love? The walls of the cabin seemed to be closing in around her and she thought that if she stayed there for another moment in Hawley’s presence she would faint away. She stood up quickly, ready to climb to the ship’s deck and the fresh air, but she was stopped in her tracks by a knock on the door. Hawley looked around irritably.
‘Oh, who can that be?’ he muttered. ‘Hello?’ he called out.
‘Mr Robinson, it’s First Officer Carter,’ came the voice from outside. ‘Can I have a word, please, sir?’
‘It’s a little inconvenient at the moment,’ he shouted. ‘Can’t it wait?’ Looking towards Ethel, he was suddenly aware how much her face had changed. She no longer looked excited at the prospect of Canada; she looked as if she had been cheated of something. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked her.
‘I’m afraid not, sir,’ Carter called back. ‘If you could just open the door.’
He sighed. ‘I’d better get this,’ he said to Ethel. ‘Are you all right?’
She shrugged and adjusted her wig. ‘I’m fine,’ she said in a dead voice. ‘Let’s just get to Canada and work everything out there.’
He looked at her and his face filled with worry. ‘I did the right thing, didn’t I?’ he said. ‘Telling you, I mean?’
‘I suppose so,’ she said, not sure of anything any more.
‘Mr Robinson!’
‘Just coming,’ he called. ‘Let me see what he wants,’ he said. ‘We’ll finish talking afterwards.’
He walked over to the door and opened it irritably. ‘Yes?’ he asked. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘Sorry to disturb you, sir. Captain Kendall needs a word.’
‘Well, can’t he speak to me later? My son and I are in the middle of an important conversation.’
Billy Carter looked into the cabin, where he saw Edmund Robinson standing forlornly, his cheeks growing damp with tears, looking almost unaware of his surroundings. Carter could not help but think how much he suddenly looked like a woman after all. It was obvious. The clues had been scattered everywhere, if he thought back on it. He had just never fully realized it until now because of the presentation. Everyone assumed that Edmund Robinson was a young man, therefore it must be the case.
‘I’m afraid not, sir,’ he said. ‘If you could just come with me, please.’
Mr Robinson hesitated, staring at him impatiently for a moment, before relenting. ‘I’ll get my coat,’ he said, reaching behind the door for it. ‘I won’t be long, Edmund,’ he said. ‘We’ll continue this later, yes?’
Ethel nodded and watched as he left the cabin. For the first time since she had met Hawley, she didn’t know who or what to trust any more, and she wished she was a thousand miles away. ‘What have I done?’ she asked herself aloud. ‘What have I done?’
They were stopped in the hallway by Mrs Antoinette Drake and her daughter Victoria, who looked at Mr Robinson distastefully even as they stopped to speak to the First Officer.
‘Oh, good afternoon, Mr Carter,’ said Mrs Drake. ‘So nice to see you.’
‘Mrs Drake,’ he said with a quick nod, hoping to move on quickly past her.
‘We must be getting pretty close to Canada by now, surely,’ she said.
‘A couple of hours and we’ll be there. Best to get on with your packing, I’d say.’
‘But we’ve stopped,’ said Victoria with a snarl.
‘What’s that?’ Mr Robinson asked.
‘We’ve stopped,’ she repeated. ‘The boat’s come to a full stop.’
‘She’s right,’ said Mrs Drake, addressing all her comments to Billy Carter; she had still not forgiven Mr Robinson for his behaviour of a few days before, and it irritated her that he had kept out of her way since then, not even bothering to offer an apology.
‘We’ve just slowed down,’ said Carter, thinking on his feet. ‘Standard practice when you’re getting near the harbour.’
‘We haven’t slowed down,’ Victoria insisted. ‘We’ve come to a full stop. What’s the sense in that?’
They stood and stared at each other for a few moments while he tried to think of a reason; fortunately this was not necessary, for at that moment the engines started up again and the boat shivered into action, cleared to continue now that Inspector Dew was safely on board. ‘See?’ he said, smiling. ‘Just a brief stop, that’s all. On our way again.’
He started to walk on, but Mrs Drake grabbed his arm. ‘And where are you taking Mr Robinson?’ she asked, worried that he might be about to be included in something that she was not.
‘To see the captain.’
‘Why?’
‘I’m afraid it’s a private matter, Mrs Drake,’ he said. ‘Nothing for you to worry about, though.’
Mr Robinson frowned; his mind had been concentrating on the conversation he had just had with Edmund; now he started to wonder why Captain Kendall wanted to see him at all. If he was true to form, the captain probably just wanted him to be nearby when they approached Quebec. He had insisted on spending an increasing amount of time with Hawley during the voyage, and it had begun to grate on him as he found the captain a dull companion, obsessed with only two things: the sea and the health of some former officer about whom he couldn’t stop talking.
‘Well, I dare say I shall see you on deck later, Mr Carter,’ she replied doubtfully, wondering what was going on that she was not being allowed to participate in.
They walked on, and Mr Robinson was aware that both Mrs Drake and Victoria were watching him suspiciously. Climbing the steps towards the deck, he noticed Martha Hayes sitting with Matthieu Zéla and he looked away quickly, not wishing to have to speak to them either. No such luck. The two men passed directly by them, and Martha turned around to speak to them.
‘Isn’t it exciting?’ she said. ‘We’re only a couple of hours away from our new lives. I can’t wait to step ashore in Canada.’
‘Yes,’ said Mr Robinson. ‘We’re all looking forward to it, I think.’
‘Is there a problem, Mr Carter?’ Matthieu asked, looking at him suspiciously. The officer seemed keen to move on and was hopping from one foot to the other as if his bladder was full.
‘No problem,’ he said irritably. ‘Just need to get to the captain’s cabin, that’s all.’
‘Mr Robinson, the most wonderful thing,’ said Martha, taking his hand. ‘Mr Zéla and I—Matthieu, I mean—well, he’s invited me to stay with him and Tom for a couple of weeks in Quebec. He needs an assistant with a business venture and has given me a job. Just until I find my feet, you understand.’
‘Congratulations,’ said Mr Robinson. ‘It seems that you’ve found good fortune on this voyage then, after all.’
‘As have I,’ said Matthieu. ‘It will be pleasant having another adult around as I suspect Tom is only going to grow more and more troublesome as time goes on. I dread to think what the next year or two of his life will bring.’
‘Well, that won’t be anything to do with me, Matthieu,’ Martha said, laughing. ‘I don’t intend to start acting as anyone’s mother.’
‘Mr Robinson, we really should get on,’ Billy Carter said.
‘Yes, of course. I’ll see you both later.’
‘Goodbye, Mr Robinson,’ said Martha, turning back to watch the horizon and wait for the harbour to come into sight.
‘If you ask me,’ Matthieu said quietly as they walked away, ‘he’s been caught out at last.’
‘Caught out?’ she asked. ‘Caught out at what?’
‘Ah,’ he replied. ‘Perhaps now that we’re almost in Quebec, it will do no harm to tell you.’ She leaned forward as he began to reveal what he knew.
‘Are we not going to the wheelhouse?’ Mr Robinson asked, surprised when Billy Carter did not lead them in the direction of the captain’s usual station.
‘Not today, sir, no,’ he replied. ‘The captain is in his cabin.’
‘He wants me to go there?’ he asked, surprised. ‘Look here, Mr Carter, can’t you tell me what this is all about?’
‘I really couldn’t say, sir. But we’re almost there now. If we just make our way down this flight of stairs.’
They stepped down towards the crew’s quarters, but not before Mr Robinson caught sight of Tom DuMarqué skulking in a corner, watching him carefully like a vulture waiting for a body to expire before soaring down and chewing on the still warm flesh. His dark eyes met Mr Robinson’s and the boy’s mouth twisted into a snarl. He could see how much the boy despised him, but it was nothing compared to the anger he had felt when he saw him attacking Edmund. He ignored him and moved on.
Mr Robinson was surprised to see two strong crewmen standing outside the captain’s cabin, but he did not comment on it. They parted as Billy Carter knocked at the door; there was only a brief pause before a voice from inside instructed them to enter. He opened the door and stepped inside, followed by Mr Robinson, who looked around him pleasantly.
‘Captain,’ he said. ‘You wanted to see me.’
Captain Kendall nodded and the door closed behind him. He nodded towards a figure behind Mr Robinson’s shoulder, and he turned around to see who was standing there. For a moment, the face didn’t register. He knew it, of course, but it seemed so unexpected and so out of place that it took him a few seconds to remember who exactly he was looking at. When he did, he felt a sudden mixture of horror and calm, as if the worst had happened and he could finally be at peace.
‘Dr Hawley Crippen,’ said Inspector Dew, stepping forward and extending his hand politely, as if they were old friends. His face wore a look of utter relief that he had found his man. ‘I hope you remember me. I’m Inspector Walter Dew of Scotland Yard.’
‘I remember you,’ he replied calmly. ‘In a way, I’m glad it’s all over.’