Paul Temple and the Madison Case

Paul Temple and the Madison Case
Francis Durbridge

Paul and Steve plan to relax and take in some fresh sea air on board a luxurious trans-Atlantic liner … that is until they meet the elusive Sam Portland. After the innocent introduction, grave danger lies ahead for the couple.As events unfold, a concoction of murder, blackmail and terror ensues. Life on board the ship requires cruise control as Temple attempts to get to the bottom of the secret behind Sam’s lost years … And just who is Madison?

FRANCIS DURBRIDGE

Paul Temple and the Madison Case

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

Hodder & Stoughton 1988

Copyright © Francis Durbridge 1988

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: 9780008125783

Ebook Edition © June 2015 ISBN: 9780008157869

Version: 2015-10-26

Contents

Cover (#u344e4d99-b859-5c1e-a900-a141f6d41ef1)

Title Page (#uffbbb59b-45a4-58af-bedd-cbfd2bfaf3dd)

Copyright (#u098f955f-aa50-5cce-8b2f-500a03e31148)

CHAPTER I: My Name Is Portland, Sam Portland (#uee89b262-3523-5be0-b4bf-cbfae6bc79ec)

CHAPTER II: The Manila (#ud29e1ed5-0a8f-529c-99e5-70dbb2e04be7)

CHAPTER III: Eileen (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER IV: Hubert Greene Entertains (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER V: Concerning Steve (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER VI: Just a Red Herring (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER VII: Four Suspects (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER VIII: Introducing Madison (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Also in This Series (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER I (#u66d54fc8-69e3-5bfd-9e52-5d4ebec0b4bb)

My Name is Portland, Sam Portland (#u66d54fc8-69e3-5bfd-9e52-5d4ebec0b4bb)

‘I think I’ll go up on deck for a few minutes, Paul. I’d like to take a last look at the New York skyline.’

‘Isn’t it a bit late, Steve? You said you wanted to change your dress before going down to dinner.’

‘Yes, I know, but it will clear my head a bit.’

‘You’re not feeling off colour already, are you? It’s only ten minutes since we sailed.’

‘No, darling, I’m fine. It’s just that I feel a little sea air will do me good.’

‘Well, take a wrap or something. And for heaven’s sake don’t get lost. Do you know the number of this cabin?’

‘I know we’re on the Signal Deck and isn’t it eight hundred and something?’

‘We’re on the Sports Deck and it’s number 8020.’

Mr and Mrs Paul Temple were on their way back from a stay in New York. They had flown out by Concorde and were returning in more leisurely fashion on the newly refurbished Princess Diana. Temple had been attending the International Conference of Anti-Crime Agencies. As an eminent criminologist as well as an author of world renown, he had been invited to deliver the key-note address. His New York publishers had timed the publication of his new book to coincide with the conference and had offered to pay both his and Steve’s expenses. After a week of lectures and seminars, interspersed with book signings and television interviews, he was looking forward to five days crossing the Atlantic at 29 knots instead of the Mach 2 of Concorde.

Steve had not been telling the complete truth when she said she was feeling fine. She was a bad sailor and whenever she boarded a ship and knew that she had left terra firma she began to feel queasy. Even on this huge liner, the length of three football pitches, she had a sense of being somehow trapped and enclosed.

As always, coming out on deck made things better. She was glad that she had not missed this magical moment. The great liner, dwarfed by the soaring skyscrapers on Manhattan Island, was just passing between the upraised arm of the Statue of Liberty and the twin towers of the World Trade Centre. Already the city was beginning to sparkle as lights were switched on in offices where staff would be working till the small hours. She tried to pick out the Waldorf Astoria in the closely packed muddle of buildings. The hotel had been their home for the last six days.