Paul Temple and the Madison Case

‘Oh Paul, I feel awful.’ Steve shook her head, near to tears.

‘Now Steve, listen, there’s no point in reproaching yourself about this,’ Forbes reassured her. ‘If he hadn’t run for it this wouldn’t have happened.’

‘No, I suppose not. Who was he, do you know?’

‘According to this diary which we found on him, his name’s Mark Kendell.’ Forbes had the diary open at the first page. ‘78A Nelson Towers, Chelsea. I’ll get Vosper to check that.’

‘Anything else of interest?’ Temple had sat down beside Steve and put a hand on her arm to comfort her.

‘No, there doesn’t seem to be. Just a minute.’ Forbes was flicking through the pages of the diary. ‘Apparently he had a date this evening. October 19th 8.45. The Manila. Appointment with C.B.’

‘The Manila?’ Temple echoed. ‘That name’s familiar.’

‘Yes, don’t you remember, darling? Mrs Portland mentioned it. She said that her step-daughter was engaged … Now that’s funny. She said that her step-daughter was engaged to a man called Chris Boyer, who regularly frequents the Manila Club.’

‘C.B.,’ said Temple. ‘Don’t you think there are too many coincidences here, Sir Graham?’

‘M-m,’ Forbes conceded. ‘It looks as if Kendell really was mixed up in the Portland affair.’

‘And he broke into our flat thinking we had the watch-chain?’ Temple saw, not without alarm, that his wife’s face had an expression which he knew all too well. It meant she was hot on the scent of something.

‘Paul, wouldn’t it be an idea if we went along to the Manila Club tonight and simply asked Boyer if he had an appointment with this man Mark Kendell?’

‘Quite an idea,’ Temple said without enthusiasm, ‘but unfortunately neither of us happens to be a member of the Manila.’

To his exasperation, Forbes said with a grin, ‘We can easily get over that, Temple.’

‘Don’t say you’re a member, Sir Graham,’ said Steve.

‘No, but Archie Brooks is. He’ll fix you up all right.’

‘Who’s Archie Brooks?’

‘One of our best undercover men. We keep him on tap for occasions like this. I’ll tell him to meet you both at the Manila at ten o’clock. Is that all right?’

‘Fine,’ said Temple with a resigned shrug.

‘Well, I’ll get back to the Yard.’ Forbes was turning away when a uniformed constable came into the snack-bar. He was carrying the Samsonite suitcase. ‘We found the key to this in the deceased’s pocket, sir,’ he told Forbes. ‘The Inspector said he’d prefer you to open it.’

The PC handed the suitcase over. Forbes was taken unawares by the weight. It dragged his arm and shoulder down.

‘I say, it’s pretty heavy, isn’t it? I wonder what the fellow was carrying in it.’

Forbes heaved the case up onto the table. Temple, Steve and the PC crowded behind him as he inserted the key in the lock. It opened with a snap. Forbes released the two side catches and lifted the lid.

‘By Timothy!’ Temple whispered.

Inside, tightly packed, were row upon row of neat bundles of notes. Forbes picked one of the packets up, stared at the top note for a moment then silently handed the bundle to Temple.

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