The sergeant scratched his chin. “If they took the boat over to France,” he said thoughtfully, “your man could have told her that the dog had to stay below. And she wouldn’t know, would she, until she landed and went for him that he was not there.”

“Dear God, that’s precisely what he did. I need to speak to the port authorities, and ask them to contact France.”

He left the dog with Bell and could hear it barking frantically as he drove away.

After three hours at the port, being passed from office to office, he learned that Mr. and Mrs. Summers had indeed embarked for France on the channel crossing the preceding day. At first he was surprised that Summers had used their real names, and then it was clear why: there had to be a record of Mrs. Summers leaving England for France, for her solicitors to see later that all was aboveboard, the couple happy and still enjoying their wedding journey.

The harbormaster said, “It was a rough passage, right in the teeth of the storm.” Grinning, he added, “There’d be decks to swab after that one made landfall.”

“While you’re at it, ask the French if there was a small dog with them. Long haired, black and gray, with some white,” Rutledge added.

The harbormaster got in touch with the French authorities, and was told that Mr. and Mrs. Summers had landed safely, although both were the worse for wear from seasickness.

The message ended, “Madame was very ill. Monsieur had given her something to help the nausea, and it was not working. We recommended an hotel in Honfleur, and he told us he felt he could drive there. No dog accompanied them.”

Rutledge left the office, still worried. The fact that Mrs. Summers had landed in France surprised him—a seasick woman leaning over the rail needed only a small push to send her into the sea as the boat tossed and twisted in the storm.

Something was wrong with the picture painted by the French authorities.

“They didna’ see her,” Hamish pointed out. “They saw a verra’ distressed woman.”

And that was true, Rutledge thought as he drove back to The Nancy Bell. She could have been drugged. Or she could have been anyone wearing Mrs. Summers’s clothing.

But there was nothing he could do without authority from the Yard to have the couple taken into French custody. They had left the port by now, and were no longer under its jurisdiction. And they had broken no laws. There was not sufficient evidence to hold Summers at all.

Misdirection. Summers was a master at it.