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News of Paul Temple
Francis Durbridge
As detective Paul Temple turns his hand to playwright, his leading lady Iris Archer pulls out shortly before the play is due to open and declares that she is heading for France.However, shortly after her disappearance Paul Temple receives a guest at his Scottish holiday home – none other than that of Iris Archer.The mystery deepens as Temple is asked by a young man to act as postmaster in delivering a letter. Meanwhile someone acting under the codename of Z4 seems to have control of events. Could this be Doctor Steiner, and just who is he? It is all up to Temple . . .
FRANCIS DURBRIDGE
News of Paul Temple
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
First published in Great Britain by
LONG 1940
Copyright © Francis Durbridge 1940
All rights reserved
Francis Durbridge has asserted his right under the Copyright,
Designs and Patents Act, 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2015
Cover image © Shutterstock.com
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008125608
Ebook Edition © June 2015 ISBN: 9780008125615
Version: 2015-06-01
Contents
Cover (#uef0165b5-9d93-5af9-8722-c5e0f58728c6)
Title Page (#u9a5d7adf-b62b-593f-8585-8857cf40f3f1)
Copyright (#u2848f8c9-eb6c-50e1-a7b3-07291fe8ddeb)
CHAPTER I: The Stage is Set (#ucb1e27d5-0cdd-5fef-abd0-6866a92a9ede)
CHAPTER II: Concerning Z.4 (#u05f7038e-d4a0-57b2-9f31-2c1af1a59b2e)
CHAPTER III: Instructions for a Murder (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER IV: Appointment with Danger (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER V: In Which Mrs Moffat Receives a Visitor (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER VI: Introducing Z.4 (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
Also in this series (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER I (#u993478ce-8e04-5814-8585-daf40cee6690)
The Stage is Set (#u993478ce-8e04-5814-8585-daf40cee6690)
1
‘Bryant! Where the devil is Bryant?’ Ralph Cosgrove, news editor of the Evening Post, replaced the telephone and repeated his question into the mouthpiece of the dictograph. A few seconds later the door opened and a resonant tenor announced: ‘Do I hear you calling me?’
‘Cut out the fooling and shut the door,’ snapped Cosgrove. ‘You should have been here hours ago. What the devil have you been doing?’
Rex Bryant came into the office and perched himself on the arm of the chair reserved for visitors. He was young, attractive, well dressed, and, oddly enough, did not wear a trilby on the back of his head. ‘I’ve been to a movie,’ announced Rex. ‘It was terrific. All about a newspaper. The editor got the scoop. The reporter got the girl. And the girl got the baby.’
There was an unpleasant glint in Cosgrove’s eye. ‘Unless you take the lead out of your pants you’ll get the sack!’ he barked. ‘Get down to Southampton and cover the Clipper story!’
Rex frowned. ‘Look here, Chief, I’m just about tired of meeting film stars.’
‘I’m not asking you to meet film stars. Maybe you’ve never heard of the Golden Clipper?’
‘Of course I have! New York to Southampton in twenty-four hours. Nice easy passage. Where’s the story?’
Ralph Cosgrove smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. ‘I don’t suppose you know by any chance who happens to be travelling on the Clipper?’
‘The Quintuplets?’ suggested Rex.
Cosgrove thoughtfully fingered a newspaper cutting he had picked up from among the pile of papers on his desk.
‘No, not the Quintuplets,’ he said softly. ‘Just Paul Temple. Mr and Mrs Temple, to be more precise.’
‘Are you sure of this?’ There was no mistaking the note of urgency in Rex Bryant’s voice.
‘Of course I’m sure. It was in last night’s Standard.’
‘Well, I’m damned!’
‘You’ll also be fired if you don’t get down to Southampton. We’ve been waiting for this story to break for weeks.’
‘But everybody knows why Temple is on his way home,’ protested Rex. ‘They’ve been rehearsing that new play of his. It’s due to open in a fortnight.’
‘That’s old stuff. Iris Archer in The First Lady Seaton.’
‘Yes. Only for some reason or other Iris Archer isn’t going to play the part.’
This was obviously news to Cosgrove and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘What’s the matter with Archer? Why isn’t she playing the part?’
‘I don’t know. Gibson had a chat with her last night. She talks a lot of nonsense about the part being unsuitable.’
Cosgrove nodded. ‘Well, get down to Southampton and see what Temple has to say about it.’
Rex wearily levered himself from the arm of the chair.
‘I’d sooner cover that new movie at the Empire,’ he grinned. ‘It’s all about an editor who took the wrong turning.’
‘Southampton!’
‘OK, Snow White! OK!’
Rex made a hasty yet dignified retreat.
Four hours later, his vermilion two-seater sports car was nosing its way through Southampton’s dock traffic, and he was wondering if there would be any other newspapermen present. There was nothing Rex hated more than mass interviews. However, knowing Temple and his wife in the days when they were both journalists was certainly a point in his favour. When the Golden Clipper bumped gently to a standstill, Rex had no difficulty in segregating Paul Temple and Steve from the crowds that thronged to see Hollywood’s latest film face, which, as usual, proved more than a little disappointing in its everyday proportions.
Over a drink in the buffet, Rex surveyed his old acquaintances with a quizzical stare. Temple, he decided, had hardly altered as far as features were concerned since the days when he was a penurious journalist. True, he must be quite a stone lighter, but that suited him.
Steve, who was always ready to talk ‘shop’ with Bryant or any of the other reporters, said quietly: ‘How’s the circulation, Rex?’
‘Not so good lately. Wrong time of year.’
‘It’s always the wrong time of year,’ put in Temple, with a twinkle in his eye.
‘They’re sending us out after all sorts of stories that the subs slaughter down to four lines on page eight,’ declared Rex moodily, ordering himself another whisky.
‘What exactly are you doing down at Southampton?’ demanded Steve curiously.
Rex splashed soda into his glass. ‘To be quite candid, I came down here to see your delightful husband,’ he grinned.
‘Things must certainly be in a bad way if I’m considered to be in the news,’ laughed Temple. ‘What’s it all about?’
Rex took a cigarette from his case and scratched a match. ‘The play, for one thing. You might as well give me all the dope about it. Be a sport, Temple – it isn’t as if the publicity will do the show any harm – or will it?’
‘By Timothy, you boys must be hard up for news,’ murmured Temple sympathetically.
‘There isn’t any story, Rex,’ added Steve wistfully. ‘If there was a story, you could have it like a shot, couldn’t he, darling?’
Temple nodded. ‘Like a shot,’ he corroborated.
‘But is Iris Archer leaving the cast, or isn’t she?’
Temple dived in his pocket and produced a crumpled Western Union Cable. ‘I got this just before we left New York; that’s all I know.’ He tossed the cable over to the reporter, who straightened it out and read:
‘Terribly sorry unable to play Lady Seaton stop will explain later stop lots of love Iris.’
‘And a very large full stop,’ added Temple ruefully.
Rex folded the paper and handed it back to the novelist. ‘I thought you wrote the play specially for Iris Archer.’
‘So I did.’
Rex wrinkled his forehead. ‘Then it seems funny that—’
‘Don’t worry him, Rex,’ advised Steve, who knew just how sore the point was with her husband.
‘But look here, I’ve got to have some sort of a story to take back to town!’
Temple and Steve regarded him innocently.
‘Hadn’t you better go and catch Sylvia Larone before she gets the train?’ suggested Steve. ‘You could ask her what she really thought of Hollywood.’
Rex ignored the suggestion. ‘Tell me your plans for the future,’ he said.
‘We’re going to Scotland for three weeks.’
‘The South of France, dear,’ Steve prompted gently.
‘Scotland,’ repeated Temple firmly.
‘The South of France.’
‘All right,’ chipped in Rex, eyeing them impatiently. ‘I’ll say Scotland and the South of France. Then what?’
Temple said quietly: ‘Well, I’ve promised my publishers a new novel for Christmas—’
Rex shifted impatiently on his high stool.
‘I’m not running the literary page,’ he said heavily. ‘I’ve got to go back to town with a story. Not a “puff” for a new novel.’
‘But we haven’t got a story, Rex. Nothing’s happened – nothing at all.’
Rex shook his head sadly. ‘All right,’ he murmured resignedly. ‘Tell me something about the trip – your personal reactions and all that sort of hot air. I’ll have to turn in a couple of “sticks” or they’ll murder me.’
Temple laughed. Then he caught sight of a distinguished-looking man who had just entered the buffet.
