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CHAPTER SEVEN

I found the room where the murder had happened. It was square with two big windows, plain white walls and a bare floor. There was nothing in it. At each window there was a window-seat with a cupboard under it. The first was empty. But when I put my hand into the opposite cupboard, I found a roll of Kodak film! I smelled it suspiciously - mothballs again! The film had been carried in the pocket of the man who was killed in the Tube. The ‘doctor’ had taken the film - and he had dropped it here. I had a clue!

On the way back to town, I studied the paper again. Suddenly the numbers took on a new meaning. Could they be a date? 17.1 22, The 17th of January, 1922. But in that case I must find Kilmorden Castle, because today was the 14th.

I took my precious roll to the big Kodak shop on Regent Street, and asked for prints.

‘You’ve given me the wrong roll,’ the man said, smiling. ‘This is an unused film.’

I walked out with as much pride as I could. I expect it is good for me, now and again, to realize what an idiot I can be! But nobody enjoys it. And then, as I was passing one of the big shipping offices, I stopped. In the window was a beautiful model of one of the company’s boats, and it was labelled ‘Kenilworth Castle’. A wild idea ran through my brain. I went in and asked with a shaking voice, ‘Kilmorden Castle?’

‘On the 17th from Southampton. Cape Town? First or second class?’

‘How much is it?’

‘First class, eighty-seven pounds.’

I interrupted him. This was exactly the amount of money left to me by Papa!

‘First class,’ I said.