‘Sir Graham, how does Scotland Yard come into this?’
‘Just over a week ago one of my men – Chief Inspector James – received this note. Here we are, Steve, read it.’
Steve had seated herself on the end of the sofa. She reached over for the note and slowly read it out. ‘An American multi-millionaire called Sam Portland intends to visit England. He must be stopped from doing so – if he isn’t … a … murder … will … be … committed.’
‘Is there a signature?’ Temple asked.
‘No, it’s typed, darling. There’s no signature.’
‘At first we thought it was a hoax,’ Forbes said, recovering the note from Steve. ‘Then something came up which made James decide to take it seriously. He contacted New York. They checked up and told him that Portland apparently hadn’t the slightest intention of coming to England.’
‘He probably hadn’t at that time.’
‘We kept the file open but took no further action until we heard that Portland was on his way over here …’
‘… and had died of a heart attack,’ Temple finished for him.
‘Precisely. Naturally we obtained a list of passengers and when I saw your name on it I was confident you could fill us in. There will have to be an inquest, of course, even though the doctor appeared quite happy to sign a death certificate attributing the cause of death as … ‘Forbes paused as there came a knock on the door and Charlie poked his head in.
‘Excuse me, sir.’
‘What is it, Charlie?’ Temple asked with ill-concealed impatience.
‘There’s a Mr Greene to see you, sir. I didn’t say you was in.’
‘Surely it’s a bit late for a social call,’ Steve protested.
‘That’s all right, Charlie,’ Temple said with resignation. ‘I’ll see him.’
Steve stood up and adjusted her house-robe more carefully. ‘What can Greene want, Paul?’
‘We’ll soon see,’ Temple murmured. He just had time to put the whisky glasses away before Charlie showed the visitor in. ‘Hello, Greene! Come in! What can I do for you?’
Greene was taken aback to find his hosts in night attire. ‘I’m awfully sorry to disturb you, especially at this time of night, but …’ He was staring at Sir Graham, who had remained seated. ‘I beg your pardon, sir, but haven’t we met before?’
‘My name is Forbes,’ Sir Graham told him bluntly, as if that precluded any previous acquaintance.
‘This is Sir Graham Forbes of Scotland Yard,’ Temple explained tactfully.
‘Oh, I beg your pardon! I was under the impression that we’d met somewhere. How do you do, sir?’ Greene was ready to follow up the introduction with a handshake but Sir Graham made no move to respond in kind, contenting himself with a nod.
‘I think you’ve met my wife.’
‘Yes, we met at Southampton.’ Having been rebuffed once Greene did not offer to shake hands with Steve. ‘Good evening, Mrs Temple. Temple, I’ve just left Mrs Portland. She’s in a pretty bad way, I’m afraid, and she seems very upset about – well – what seems to me rather a trivial matter.’
‘What is Mrs Portland upset about?’
‘Well, it seems that somebody’s stolen Mr Portland’s watch-chain.’
‘Stolen his watch-chain?’ It was Sir Graham that spoke.
‘Yes.’
‘Was it very valuable?’
‘From the way Stella’s going on about it I should say extremely valuable.’
Steve guessed that Mrs Portland had recovered from her shock sufficiently to give her late husband’s London representative a very difficult time.
‘She’s probably thinking of the sentimental value.’
‘I daresay she is, Mrs Temple, but surely at a time like this … to bother about a watch-chain … it seems most odd.’
‘Have you been in touch with the shipping line?’ Temple asked.
Greene was turning his head this way and that as questions came from three different directions.
‘Yes, I’ve even been on to Southampton!’
Temple had deliberately not offered Greene a drink nor invited him to sit down. He had not forgotten the abrupt way the man had ended their conversation on Princess Diana.
‘Well, quite frankly, I don’t see what I can do.’
‘I was wondering if by any chance you can recall seeing the chain. If I remember rightly you saw Sam shortly after – after he died.’
‘The only time I saw it was the morning he introduced himself to me. It was a thin gold chain with an English penny on the end. He kept the penny in his waistcoat pocket.’
‘I don’t know anything about that. All I know is I wish to goodness we could find the chain!’
‘Where is Mrs Portland staying?’
‘She’s at the Ritz but there’s some talk of her coming down to my place for the weekend.’
‘Is she alone?’ Steve asked with some concern.
‘No, George Kelly’s with her and Moira’s moving in tomorrow morning.’
‘Who’s Moira?’ Forbes wanted to know.
‘It’s her step-daughter.’
‘Have they met before, by the way?’ Temple asked.
‘Yes, they met about six months ago in New York.’
As no one else had made a move to sit down Forbes abandoned his chair and got to his feet.
‘Mr Greene, I understand from what Temple tells me, that you’re in charge of the Portland Corporation in this country.’
‘Yes, Sir Graham.’
‘When did you last see Portland?’
‘About four years ago.’
‘Was Portland over here?’
‘No, I was in America. So far as I know this was Sam’s first trip to Europe.’ Greene had got the message that his intrusion so late in the evening had not made him exactly popular. He began to move towards the door. ‘Well, I’m sorry to have bothered you, Mr Temple. I thought perhaps you might be able to throw some light on the missing watch-chain.’
‘If I were you I should try and get in touch with the Purser.’
‘Yes, I’ll do that.’
‘Can I give you a lift?’ Forbes offered surprisingly. ‘I was just about to make a move.’
‘Well, actually I’m on my way to Park Lane. If you could drop me I’d be very grateful.’
‘Yes, certainly.’
‘Paul …’ Steve had waited till she heard two doors closing, the front door and that of Charlie’s own private little flatlet. ‘Do you think the doctor was mistaken about Portland? Do you think we’ve all been mistaken and – he was murdered?’
‘No, I don’t. But there’s one thing I’m rather curious about, Steve.’
‘What’s that – the watch-chain?’
‘Yes. I’m going to have a word