“There’s not much to tell,” the purser answered. “They came aboard about noon on Thursday, and Mr. Vane showed me their tickets and asked for their stateroom. The tickets were singles from Liverpool to Manáos, all O. K. An upper deck stateroom, No. 12, had been reserved at the London office, and I gave the number to their cabin steward and saw him leading the way there with the luggage. About half an hour later they came back to my office and asked what time the ship sailed. I told them three o’clock. Mr. Vane said they had to go ashore to complete some business, but would be back in good time. They then left in the direction of the gangway.”
“Did you actually see them go ashore?”
“No, you can’t see out on deck from the office.”
“Yes? And then?”
“After dinner their cabin steward asked me if I knew anything about them. He said they hadn’t been down for dinner, and he couldn’t find them anywhere about the ship. We had a look round, and then I spoke to Captain Davis, and he had a thorough search made. They have never been seen since, and they’re certainly not on board now.”
“They couldn’t have hidden somewhere and slipped ashore here in Havre?”
“Quite impossible. There’s not the slightest doubt they missed the boat at Liverpool.”
“Intentionally or unintentionally?” the Captain interjected.
“I don’t know anything about that,” Mr. Jennings replied, “but they certainly did not sail with us. Perhaps, Inspector, they learned when they went on shore that you were after them?”
“Impossible,” French declared. “I did not myself know where they had gone until last night.”