by Blythe Baker
“Dr. Rushforth was on the deck that morning?” I asked.
Jane nodded her head ever so slightly. So subtly, in fact, I couldn’t even be sure it was a head nod. Luckily, Lady Dixon finally decided to answer my question.
“Yes, he told us he had just finished responding to a female passenger with a sick infant. The Captain called upon him to assist her while the ship’s doctor was preoccupied with another ill passenger.”
I’d seen Dr. Rushforth that morning and he hadn’t mentioned anything about assisting with a sick passenger. However, that information would have seemed inconsequential in the face of the news of Ruby Stratton’s death. Besides, it was very likely he had no knowledge of being so near the body prior to discovery. I replayed the conversation I’d had with him that fateful morning, searching my memory for any important details, anything I could use to cross-reference with Lady Dixon.
Dr. Rushforth had said he’d gone to see the Captain the moment he heard of the death but could be of no assistance because Ruby Stratton had been dead for quite some time. Immediately, Captain Croft’s words the night before rang once again in my head. Ruby Stratton’s body was chilled, but not yet cold. The ship’s physician believed her to be just recently deceased.
“How long had Ruby Stratton been dead when you discovered her body?” I asked.
“Apparently, the murder had occurred quite recently. Jane and I stayed—keeping our distance, of course—until the Captain and several crew members could arrive. They said her body still maintained a touch of warmth. We are lucky we arrived when we did. If we had taken our walk only half an hour earlier, we could have stumbled upon a rather ghastly scene,” Lady Dixon said.
Colonel Stratton, as I’d learned two nights before, had returned to his cabin near three in the morning, and I’d seen him close to seven. If Lady Dixon found the body between six and seven, and the body had only recently been deceased. Colonel Stratton would have had to leave his room in the wee hours of the morning, having had no sleep, kill his wife on the deck, and then return to his room without being spotted by anyone so he could answer the door at seven when the crew member knocked to deliver the news. All of that, though possible, seemed unlikely.
The Colonel had been my main suspect since I’d first heard of the murder, but suddenly I had evidence that provided reasonable doubt. Even with the timeline fleshed out, however, I was hesitant to eliminate him as a suspect. His behavior surrounding the murder seemed erratic.
Dr. Rushforth, who I had all but eliminated, now seemed to be rising to the forefront of the investigation. Had Dr. Rushforth been misinformed about the time of Ruby’s death or had he spread the lie purposely? That question was now the most important one to answer. With her testimony, Lady Dixon had just placed the Doctor near the scene of the crime minutes before the body was discovered, and Dr. Rushforth had quickly sought to involve himself in the investigation. Was that in an effort to cast suspicion away from himself or out of the goodness of his heart?
What purpose could he have for harming Ruby Stratton, though? I’d noticed an odd dynamic between him and Ruby Stratton at dinner the night before the murder, but nothing that seemed volatile enough to lead to murder. Dr. Rushforth, like most men, had seemed simply to notice Ruby’s beauty and appreciate it, but that was hardly cause for murder.
While my mind whirled with thoughts of Dr. Rushforth, I had to wonder whether I wasn’t overlooking a more obvious suspect. Had I, like Thomas Arbuckle, assumed the murderer was a man? Lady Dixon and Jane had been the two to find Ruby’s body, and unlike Dr. Rushforth, they knew Ruby prior to boarding the ship. Suddenly, I remembered the letter in the bottom of the Strattons’ trunk.
“In the time you knew Ruby Stratton, did you ever hear her mention someone by the name of ‘Mo Mo?’” I asked.
Lady Dixon seemed jarred by this line of questioning. She reared back her head, eyebrows furrowed. “That is hardly a name,” she said, lip curled, and then she shook her head. “I never heard any mention of such a person.”
I was going to thank Lady Dixon and Jane for their time, as I knew we were nearing the end of their walk, but before I could, Lady Dixon came to a sudden stop. Jane nearly crashed into the woman’s back, though she managed to stop herself just in time.
“This is where we must part, Miss Beckingham,” Lady Dixon said. “Good day.”
She turned on her heel and marched away before I could say another word, which suited me just fine. I had a lot to digest. At every turn, it seemed as though I was gathering more information, but getting further and further away from a clear answer.
The sun had fully risen, washing the deck in golden light. I knew breakfast would start any minute. Passengers were pouring up the stairs from the decks below. I, however, moved against the current, climbing down the stairs to return to my cabin. I no longer felt capable of eating.
Luckily, by the time I returned to the room, Mr. and Mrs. Worthing had already left, which meant they would not come looking for me until after breakfast. I lay back on my bed, cape fanning out around my face, with my arms crossed over my chest.
I needed to uncover which passenger Dr. Rushforth had been assisting that morning. It would help to establish a timeline for his whereabouts. I had as much information as I was likely to get about where Colonel Stratton and Lady Dixon and Jane were during the time Ruby Stratton was murdered. The investigation now would be a game of elimination. Who had been in the right place at the right time? Or, in Ruby Stratton’s case, the wrong place at the wrong time?
As I was thinking, I heard a scraping noise near the corner of my room. I sat up immediately, looking around. When I’d come into the room, I hadn’t turned on the main light, opting instead for the lamp next to the bed, so the room was dim. Because of that, it took me several seconds to notice the square shape on the floor in front of the door. I slipped out of bed and walked to it. It was a note. And the sound I’d heard had been the paper sliding under the door.
Before reading the note, I pulled the door open quickly, and stepped into the corridor. It was empty and quiet, not a peep or whisper of movement. I waited several seconds to be sure no one was hiding around the corner. When I felt confident I was alone, I shut the door and unfolded the note.
In sloppy, scribbled handwriting were these words:
Meet in the maintenance closet behind the stairs on Deck E.
12
I hesitated only a few seconds before checking my makeup and the appearance of my scar in the washroom mirror and then leaving my cabin, the note clutched in my hand.
There seemed to be no other option than to meet with whoever had written the note. I knew it was dangerous. The note writer could be the same person who murdered Ruby. She had been only next door, after all. Perhaps my investigation was entirely off base and the murderer had been someone Ruby didn’t know at all, who had drawn her from her room with the use of a vague note. Or—and this was the option I hoped for—the note was written by someone who had information that could be useful for my investigation. And it was that option which drew me from my room and had me standing on the landing of Deck E, searching for a maintenance closet.
Deck E was reserved for the lower classes. Cabin doors studded the corridor walls at regular intervals, showcasing how small each cabin was. Every sixth door was labeled “communal lavatory.” I shuddered at the mere thought of sharing a washroom with five other families.
Just behind the staircase, exactly where the note said it would be, was a maintenance closet. The crack under the door looked dark and there was no window set into the door, meaning I would get no clue of what was on the other side until it was too late to turn back. My heart began to pound in my chest, beating out a warning. Turn back – turn back – turn back.
As much as I wanted to listen to it, I pushed the thought away. If I walked away now, I would make myself sick with regret. What if I’d walked away from information that could have solved the case? Besides, if there was someone set on killing me hidi
ng behind the door, they would find an opportunity eventually. It was better to face it head on now than to sit in fear and uncertainty.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I lifted a fist and rapped on the door three times.
Nothing happened for a few seconds. I even began to wonder whether I hadn’t beat the person who’d written the note to the closet. Then, without warning, the door was thrown open and a hand wrapped itself around my arm and pulled me into the closet. I yelped with surprise.
“It is only me, miss.”
The soft voice. The sing-song accent. The small, shadowy figure.
“Aseem,” I breathed, relief flooding through me. “You frightened me.”
I had almost forgotten about the young boy stowed away in the cargo hold. I’d asked him to use his ability to move quietly and hide to assist me, but we had been interrupted before I could give him any kind of specific instruction. Both how he had discovered which cabin was mine and what he had to say to me was a total mystery. I was briefly impressed, not only by his stealth, but by the education of the child who could speak and write in my language as well as his own. Then, he broke into my thoughts.
“I am sorry,” he said. “It is dangerous for me to be seen by anyone.”
“Then why have you taken such a great risk by delivering the note and meeting me?” I asked.
I wanted to turn on a light, to illuminate the dark space and see the young boy’s face, but even in the gloom, I could see Aseem shake his head from side to side when I swiped the wall in search of a light switch.
“I have some information you may find useful,” he said.
“And what would that be?” I asked, still uncertain. How would Aseem have any idea what information would be useful to me?
“I overheard your conversation with Lady Dixon on the deck this morning, and—”
“What? How?” I asked, interrupting him. Lady Dixon had been moving at a rather quick pace, and as far as I knew, we were the only people on the deck. To follow us, Aseem would have needed to be in constant motion and remain unseen. It was a near-impossible task.
“No matter, miss. I overheard Lady Dixon tell you the Doctor had visited a sick infant just before running into her on the deck?”
“Dr. Rushforth. Yes, that is what she said.” Until he had given specifics of the conversation I’d shared with Lady Dixon, I’d still doubted whether Aseem was telling the truth about overhearing us. Now, though, there was almost no doubt. “How were you able to follow us?”
Aseem shook his head at my question and then looked up at me, his eyes white and sparkling despite the dark. “It was a lie.”
“What was a lie? What Lady Dixon said?”
“Dr. Rushforth lied to the Lady. He did visit an infant in the early morning, but it was near three that morning, not just before Ruby’s body was discovered,” he said.
“How can you know this, Aseem?”
He smiled. “In the same way I know what you spoke to Lady Dixon about. And the same way I knew which cabin you are staying in.”
Part of me felt uneasy at the thought of being observed by Aseem without my knowledge. However, a larger part was focused on the information he had been able to gather.
“So, you are saying Dr. Rushforth was unaccounted for between visiting the infant at three and seeing Lady Dixon and Jane at seven?” I asked.
Aseem nodded, his lips sucked in, eyes wide.
“Do you understand what this information means?” I asked. I had not told Aseem about my investigation, and even though his information was quite pertinent, he could have simply shared it because of the conversation he’d overheard me having with Lady Dixon.
“If you are asking whether or not I know why you are asking so many questions, the answer is yes. You are not as careful as you think you are, Miss Beckingham,” Aseem said.
I wanted to be offended by Aseem’s criticism of me, but it was impossible. He spoke with so much frankness and honestly, that I could only smile. “I suppose you are the master of subtlety.”
He nodded. “It is one of my skills, yes.”
The boy seemed to know something about everyone of importance on the ship, so it seemed a waste not to utilize his knowledge. “Can you tell me anything about Achilles Prideaux?”
Aseem screwed up his face in thought, and then shrugged his shoulders. “Not much. But I do believe you can trust him.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised. Perhaps, Aseem had not observed Monsieur Prideaux closely enough to make out his true character. I would take his opinion into consideration but would ultimately have to follow my own instincts.
The boy nodded. “I must be going. It will be easier to move unnoticed while most of the passengers are at breakfast.”
“I don’t want to risk you being discovered, but will you inform me if you uncover any information that is pertinent to the investigation?” It felt odd to ask a child for assistance, but Aseem was wise beyond his years. I didn’t know what traumas had lead him to stow away on the ship, but I imagined, like myself, that he felt leaving India was his best chance at a new life.
Aseem cracked the door open, light from the hallway cutting across the small closet and casting his face in a harsh line. In the light, I could see him turn his gaze to me and nod once. Then, he poked his head into the hallway, and upon seeing it empty, slipped from the room and closed the door behind him. I waited several seconds before following him, and once I did, the hallway was empty. Aseem had disappeared.
13
Dr. Rushforth had lied about his whereabouts the morning of Ruby Stratton’s murder. Or Lady Dixon had misunderstood. Either way, the facts were this: Dr. Rushforth was out of his cabin and unaccounted for between three and seven in the morning, and Ruby Stratton was killed between five and seven.
After meeting with Aseem, I returned once again to my cabin, hoping for a few moments of peace. I’d woken unusually early to intercept Lady Dixon and Jane on their walk and Aseem had interrupted my first attempt at a nap when he delivered his note. I felt long overdue for some rest, however, Mrs. Worthing knocked on the door the moment I’d laid my head down. I groaned, rose to my feet, and fully accepted that I would not get any rest until that evening—if then.
I opened the door only a crack, but Mrs. Worthing pushed it open with both hands, bursting into my room without a second thought for my privacy. I was momentarily pinned between the back side of the door and the wall.
“We missed you at dinner, dear. You are feeling all right?” she asked, resting on the edge of my bed, fidgeting with the unmade blankets. She wore a pale pink tea dress with a pleated skirt and a bucket hat, a matching ribbon wrapped around the base. The color was pretty, but it washed her out. She looked pink all over, like a salmon that had jumped from the ocean and landed on the deck.
I closed the door and nodded. “You are so kind to worry, but I am perfectly healthy. Just a little tired is all.”
“Lady Dixon said you accompanied her and Jane on their walk this morning,” Mrs. Worthing said, her voice slightly higher than normal. She exhaled deeply.
“Yes, we had a rather long conversation while we walked,” I said. “Did you know they were the ones who found Ruby Stratton’s body on deck?”
Mrs. Worthing looked away from me, giving her full attention to a blank space on the cabin wall. “Yes,” she said with a jerk of her head. “I’d heard that.”
So perhaps Lady Dixon discovering Ruby’s body wasn’t such a secret after all. Maybe Lady Dixon had simply not mentioned the topic while I was present. It wasn’t difficult to imagine. I saw the Lady and Jane at meal times, but otherwise we seemed to occupy different parts of the ship.
“I only just heard the news this morning. Shocking, isn’t it?”
Mrs. Worthing shrugged her shoulders and scuffed the toe of her black Mary Jane into the wooden floor. “Not so shocking. Lady Dixon seems to know everything there is to know before everyone else. I would have assumed she’d told you about finding Mrs. Stratt
on, considering you two are so close now.”
It was then that I realized how sub-par my investigative skills truly were. Mrs. Worthing was jealous. She believed me to prefer the company of Lady Dixon over herself, which seemed an absurd conclusion to reach, given the fact that Lady Dixon was one of the most insufferable people I’d ever encountered in my entire life.
“My running into her this morning was a total accident,” I rushed to explain. “I can assure you, I would not have sought out Lady Dixon on my own. The woman shares her opinions too freely, occasionally venturing into cruelty.”
Mrs. Worthing tore her eyes away from the interesting blank canvas of my wall to look up at me. Her eyebrows were still lowered and drawn together, hesitant to trust what I was saying. “You didn’t plan to meet with her for a walk this morning?”
“Absolutely not,” I said with more passion than necessary. “I couldn’t sleep, so I wandered up on deck, and we ran into one another. It felt rude not to join them, which is the only reason I did so. Honestly, it felt like a waste of a good walk, but social etiquette rules us all.”
Mrs. Worthing laughed. “That it does, my dear. I’m actually glad you said something, because Lady Dixon had said several things that have given me pause. She spoke so harshly of Ruby Stratton after her murder, and I found Mrs. Stratton to be a remarkably sweet woman.”
“I didn’t know Ruby well enough to make any judgments on her, but she hardly seemed deserving of the criticism Lady Dixon hurled at her,” I agreed.
“I promised Ruby I would tell no one, but now that she is dead, it hardly seems a secret,” Mrs. Worthing said, leaning forward slightly and lowering her voice. “I caught Mrs. Stratton sitting on the deck the evening before her murder, writing in a notebook. She was drafting a letter to someone named Mo Mo.”
My heart seized in my chest, and suddenly Mrs. Worthing had my full and undivided attention.