“It’s this way, Mr. Jennings,” he explained. “These Vanes are wanted for murder and robbery. I traced them to your ship, and crossed last night from London, hoping to arrest them here. But the Captain tells me I have missed them. Perhaps you’ll give me any information you can about them.” “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.” He felt ruefully sure that the whole thing was part of the elaborate laying of a false trail, but he did not see that anything was to be gained by discussing this with the ship’s officers. He pushed his papers towards the purser. “Can you recognise the parties from those, Mr. Jennings?” A glance at the photograph sufficed. The original was undoubtedly that Mrs. Vane who had for a brief half-hour boarded the _Enoch_. And the description was that of Mr. Vane also. French was forced to the conclusion that his quarry had indeed, in the Captain’s words, been too many for him. He swore bitterly beneath his breath. “You say they left some luggage in their stateroom,” he went on. “Could I have a look at it?” “Of course. But, you know, they may still be here. On several occasions I have known passengers to miss the ship at Liverpool and follow on here. They may turn up at any minute.” “If they do, so much the better,” French answered. “But I won’t bank on it. If you don’t mind, I’ll have a look at the luggage now. What time do you sail?” “In about half an hour.”