A Subtle Murder

by Blythe Baker

  “I came up behind her and remarked on what an unusual name it was, and Mrs. Stratton nearly jumped out of her skin. She closed the notebook quickly and begged me to mention nothing of it to the Colonel. I told her I would say nothing, though I did press her to give me more information. All she would say was that Mo Mo was a correspondence she had kept for nine years—a destitute young woman to whom she sent money and encouragement via letters. I told her she needn’t keep her charity from her husband, but she insisted he was to know nothing of it.”

  “So, you have no idea who Mo Mo is, aside from the little information she shared with you?” I asked, desperate to know more.

  Mrs. Worthing shook her head. “No, she revealed nothing else. But Ruby’s humbleness was inspiring. She simply wished to help poor Mo Mo out, and didn’t want even her husband to know of her good deed. Most people, you know, seek glory wherever they can. But not Ruby Stratton.”

  “Noble, indeed,” I said.

  Despite being able to convince Mrs. Worthing of her charitable nature, Ruby Stratton had never struck me as a giver. She was a young woman, married to a well to do older man, with an eye for attractive men. She seemed like the kind of person who enjoyed a fast, fun life. Not the kind of woman who would spend her energy sending extra pocket money to a poor young woman she’d once met. So, that begged the question, who was Mo Mo to Ruby Stratton? And why would Ruby wish to keep her identity secret from her husband? And what, if anything, did Mo Mo have to do with Ruby’s murder?

  The clock in my room struck nine, and Mrs. Worthing jumped to her feet with a yelp. “Oh, I nearly forgot why I’d come in the first place. I signed us up for a dancing class.”

  I was already shaking my head before she could finish. “Mrs. Worthing, I really shouldn’t. I’m a horrible dancer. It simply isn’t in my bones.”

  “Nonsense,” the woman said, looping her arm through mine and pulling me towards the door. “You are young and fit and beautiful. All a woman needs to do to be considered a good dancer is be pretty enough to catch the eye of a gentleman. He will lead you around the room, requiring little to no effort on your part.”

  “But I don’t have the right clothes for dancing,” I said in a desperate attempt to avoid the embarrassment that certainly awaited me.

  “The dress you have on is fine,” she said, already opening my cabin door and pulling me into the hallway. “Besides, it’s a beginner’s class. No one will judge you if you are wearing the wrong kind of shoes.”

  I wanted to argue more, but I knew it would do no good. Just as I had given up on taking a nap, I gave up on the idea of getting out of the dance class. Mrs. Worthing’s will was much greater than my own. So, I quit dragging my feet and let myself be pulled along, all the way to the gymnasium.

  14

  The gymnasium was much larger than I expected. It was at least six times the length of the sitting room I shared with the Worthings and had a wall of floor to ceiling windows on one side, offering a spectacular view of the ocean. When Mrs. Worthing and I arrived to the class, despite Mrs. Worthing’s insistence that we were severely late, everyone was gathered around the window.

  “There you are, dear,” Mr. Worthing said, grabbing Mrs. Worthing’s arm and spinning her easily enough that I suspected they were slightly more advanced than the beginner’s level. “I worried you had found another partner and decided to stand me up.”

  Mrs. Worthing waved away his banter and smoothed down her skirts. “Rose and I started talking and I got distracted.”

  “Glad to see you, Rose,” Mr. Worthing said, leaning around his wife to look at me. “We missed you at breakfast.”

  “Yes, I didn’t sleep well last night, and I—”

  I didn’t bother finishing my sentence. Just then, a woman, who I presumed to be the teacher of the class, clapped her hands twice, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Mr. and Mrs. Worthing clasped hands and hurried to the center of the room, leaving me all alone.

  “Welcome dancers, I am Mrs. Kinney, and I will be your dance instructor today.”

  The woman had short dark hair that was smoothed back on her head with subtle finger waves framing her face. She wore a drop waist dress with a handkerchief hem that was absolutely doused in glitter. Every inch of her seemed to sparkle gold, from her t-strap heels all the way to her sequined headband.

  The crowd in front of her mumbled a collective greeting, which seemed to satisfy Mrs. Kinney well enough to carry on.

  “Now, if everyone could partner up, we will jump right in,” she said, extending her hand out to the man standing beside her, who I hadn’t noticed at all only a moment prior, but I now suspected to be Mr. Kinney.

  A wave of panic filled me suddenly. I didn’t have a partner. Mrs. Worthing had brought me along, but she had Mr. Worthing, and I had no one. Everyone had come in pairs—the elderly couple to my right who were already wrapped around one another doing a form of ballroom dancing across the floor and the middle-aged couple to my left who looked as though they were in the middle of a fight, whispering to one another from between gritted teeth. I took a step backwards towards the door. Mrs. Worthing was distracted enough by Mr. Worthing that certainly she wouldn’t notice my absence for a good long while. And when she confronted me about it later, I could come up with an excuse or tell her the truth. Actually, the truth could work well. She would feel guilty enough for bringing me along without a partner, that she would forgive me for slipping away unnoticed. Settled on that plan, I turned on my heel to head for the door.

  Immediately, however, I found myself face to face with Dr. Rushforth.

  “I see you are in need of a partner, Miss Beckingham.” He bowed low, holding his hand up to me as though I were royalty.

  Not knowing what to say, I simply grabbed his hand and let him lead me to the dance floor.

  I’d been thinking about Dr. Rushforth all morning, planning what I would say to him, how I would ask him about his comings and goings the morning of Ruby Stratton’s murder. Running into him unexpectedly, however, had thrown me off my game. Suddenly, I couldn’t formulate the thoughts or words necessary to interrogate him.

  “We will start with the Fox Trot,” Mrs. Kinney called out, pointing at a crew member in the corner to start the music.

  She and the man I presumed to be her husband stepped towards one another. Her right hand grasped his left and their spare hands found their partner’s waist.

  “Many people in my classes come to me and complain that they cannot dance, that they do not have rhythm or talent. So, I teach them the Fox Trot. It is a step everyone can do.”

  She counted to four, matching the beat of the music, and then she and her partner began to move together stepping on the beat. They stayed within the same area on the dance floor, but they spun and twirled and circled around one another.

  “It looks lovely, but the move is as simple as walking. If you can walk, you can Fox Trot. Please, everyone find your partner and give it a try,” she said, breaking away from her own partner to move around the couples, instructing them and giving pointers.

  “I’m not much of a dancer. I do hope you’ll forgive me in advance for stepping on your feet,” Dr. Rushforth said, winking at me.

  Before I had time to respond, he grabbed my hand again, wrapped his arm around my waist, and began leading me around the room. I didn’t even have to think. Dr. Rushforth gently pushed and pulled on my hips, directing me where I ought to go. I supposed Mrs. Worthing was on to something. All a woman really needed to do was find a good partner.

  “You are too modest, Dr. Rushforth. You seem like a fine dancer to me,” I said as we made our second lap around the room.

  He shrugged. “Fine compared to some, I suppose,” he said, nodding his head in the direction of a young couple who were receiving a fair amount of instruction from Mrs. Kinney. The man stomped his foot in frustration when Mrs. Kinney stopped them for a third time to cut in, attempting to show the man how to confidently lead his female partner.<
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  We danced in silence for several minutes, speaking only when the dance instructor finally made her way over to use. She eyed us for a moment, and then nodded approvingly before gliding away. Then, Dr. Rushforth broke the quiet.

  “Ruby Stratton seems to have been nearly forgotten,” he said.

  “What?” I asked, startled by his mention of the dead woman. I had been trying to come up with a subtle way to bring her into the conversation so I could question him, but he had done it for me.

  “I believe I will win our bet. Does tonight work for dinner?” he asked with a smile.

  Our bet. Yes, of course. I’d nearly forgotten about it yet again. “Not so quickly, Doctor. I spoke with Lady Dixon about the murder only this morning. Not everyone has forgotten.”

  Dr. Rushforth shrugged, suddenly not as eager to continue the discussion.

  “Actually,” I said. “She told me this morning that it was she and Jane who discovered Ruby’s body. Did you know that?”

  He raised his eyebrows in a surprise that didn’t seem all that convincing. “I didn’t. That must have been a shock.”

  “Oh, it was. I can’t even imagine seeing such a thing,” I said, shaking my head, allowing for a slight pause. “In fact, according to Lady Dixon, you missed the moment of discovery by a matter of minutes.”

  “Is that right?” he asked, his voice cold.

  “You did run into Lady Dixon and Jane on the deck that morning, correct?”

  He furrowed his brow for a moment as we continued to dance. His hand slipped from mine slightly, his arm loosening around my waist. “Yes, I do believe it was the very same morning.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Worthing were twirling circles around everyone else on the dance floor, barely following the steps of the Fox Trot. Mrs. Kinney, it appeared, had given up reprimanding them and had decided to let them have their fun.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what were you doing up so early? I joined Lady Dixon this morning on her walk, and I can barely keep my eyes open now,” I said, letting out a small laugh. “It’s a wonder I haven’t collapsed into your arms.”

  “You would not offend me at all if you wished to collapse, Miss Beckingham,” Dr. Rushforth said, a smile stretched across his face. Suddenly, his normally sharp features looked more sinister.

  “Do not distract me,” I said, teasing him. I tried to remain playful, though the dance class had taken on an air of danger. “What had you out of bed so early in the morning? Most people use a long voyage such as this one to relax. Lady Dixon is one of the few people I know regimented enough to rise early each morning for exercise.”

  “I couldn’t distract you even if I wished to.” I couldn’t help but notice he sounded slightly annoyed, as if he indeed did wish to distract me. “Unfortunately, doctors rarely have the luxury of a holiday. Someone is always coming down ill with something or other.”

  “So, you were caring for an ill passenger?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “An infant. Poor thing had been running a fever for a full day before her mother contacted the ship’s doctor. He was busy with a severe case of sea sickness, though. The Captain thought of me and sent a crew member to my cabin.”

  “Everyone!” Mrs. Kinney clapped twice and the music cut off. “You all made quick work of the Fox Trot, so I’d like to work on something a bit more contemporary.”

  A few groans came from the surrounding couples, but Mrs. Kinney was not deterred. She and her husband began running through the steps for the next dance. I couldn’t focus enough to learn which dance it was, though. Dr. Rushforth had become my main focus.

  “You are a kind man to assist someone so early in the morning,” I said.

  He shrugged and whispered back, “It was not so early.”

  “Near three in the morning, I heard.”

  He stiffened slightly at my words. “Yes, I suppose it was near three. By the time I finished, however, I felt wide awake. I wandered the deck for hours waiting for breakfast, unable to sleep.”

  “Then you must have passed by the spot where Ruby was discovered countless times. It took Lady Dixon and I less than half an hour to circle the entire ship this morning.”

  He put on a thoughtful face, focusing especially hard on Mr. and Mrs. Kinney as they walked everyone through the steps to the new dance.

  “So sad about her death,” I said.

  “Yes, it is. Death is always a sad affair. And I would know; I’ve seen an awful lot of it.” His words were clipped and sharp, matching the expression in his eyes.

  “Oh yes, of course,” I said, placing a hand on his arm in apology. “But I learned just today how kind Ruby Stratton was. Do you know she gave of her own fortune to help a young woman less fortunate than herself?”

  “Oh?”

  I nodded and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Apparently it was a big secret, but I discovered she was sending her money to a woman, Mo Mo, who needed it. Ruby bought her a coat just last winter,” I said, remembering the letter I’d found in the Stratton’s trunk.

  Dr. Rushforth’s face shifted from green to red and back again. I wondered whether he wouldn’t be sick.

  “Now, you all try,” Mrs. Kinney said, clapping twice for the music to begin. A jazzy tune began to play, filling the room with horns and rhythm.

  I reached for Dr. Rushforth’s hand as all the other couples began to dance, but he took a step away from me.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Beckingham, but you’ll have to excuse me,” he said.

  “Is everything all right, Doctor?” I asked.

  But Dr. Rushforth did not hear me. He was already halfway across the dance floor.

  15

  Dr. Rushforth did not make an appearance at lunch or dinner, and Mrs. Worthing’s anger at his abandoning me at dance class began to shift into concern.

  “Did he seem ill when he left the class?” she asked. “Doctors expose themselves to so many diseases. I worry he has fallen ill. We should really find out whether he is sick. Rose spent the morning pressed against him dancing. Who knows what she has been exposed to?”

  “He seemed perfectly fine,” I said, trying to calm the fears of the table and make them stop eyeing me as though I could be infectious. In all honesty, however, the doctor had seemed anything but fine. He’d been flustered by my line of questioning, and eager to escape. Especially at the mention of Mo Mo.

  I’d thrown the name out on a whim, curious to see if there could be a connection between Ruby Stratton’s secret correspondent and Dr. Rushforth. His reaction told me there was, though I didn’t yet know how.

  The investigation seemed to work that way. Each time I uncovered a clue or found an answer, ten more questions arose. I was wading through an endless sea of information, and I had to pick out the important bits, which at the moment seemed to be the identity of Mo Mo and Dr. Rushforth’s relationship with Ruby Stratton. The sooner I answered those questions, the closer I’d be to solving who murdered Ruby Stratton and why.

  “The doctor is probably comforting Colonel Stratton,” Mr. Worthing said, spooning a steaming mound of green beans into his mouth.

  This caught my attention. “Comforting Colonel Stratton?”

  Mr. Worthing looked up at me over his plate, nodding as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course. They’ve been friends for years and the man’s wife was just murdered.”

  No one at the table seemed surprised by this information, so my shock made me feel daft. “How do you know they’ve been friends for years?”

  “Really, Rose,” Mrs. Worthing said, shaking her head. “How have you spent so much time with the Doctor and yet learned nothing about him? He served in the war with Colonel Stratton. He told us so the first night we met.”

  “I knew he’d been an army surgeon, but I didn’t know he knew the Strattons,” I said.

  “Well, he did,” she said. “They served together and, after the war, he and the Strattons lived closely together in Bombay for years.”

  Rub
y’s nervous glances at Dr. Rushforth the first night aboard the ship suddenly took on a whole new meaning. They’d known one another prior to boarding. Perhaps I would have picked up on their connection had Lady Dixon not distracted me by talk of the explosion in Simla. I’d been flustered and overwhelmed, eager to leave. My senses were muddled. But now, sharpened by hindsight, I could see how nervous Rose felt around Dr. Rushforth. I replayed the conversation over in my head and stuck on the final moments of dinner.

  The Colonel voiced his intent to go to the smoking lounge and remain there until late in the evening. Ruby had been uncomfortable with the idea, even going as far as to ask whether she could accompany him. All of this had happened in front of Dr. Rushforth, who then knew Ruby would be alone in her room, and he almost certainly knew the Colonel would come home tired and drunk. That established an opportunity, but the motive remained just out of reach.

  When the conversation switched to the temperature of the indoor swimming pool, I found it impossible to remain an active part of the table’s conversation, instead choosing to wander the deck with my thoughts.

  “Are you leaving, Rose?” Mrs. Worthing asked as I slid my chair away from the table and stood up.

  I nodded. “I’d like to take a stroll around the deck before retiring for the evening.”

  “You haven’t even touched your dessert.”

  “Mr. Worthing can have mine if he’d like. I am too full to even think of it,” I said.

  Mrs. Worthing seemed prepared to keep arguing, but Mr. Worthing had already swapped his empty plate for my full one and now he dove in with an eager spoon.

  Dinner lasted longer than usual, so the sun had already sunk below the horizon by the time I stepped onto the deck. People milled about here and there, but most everyone had settled inside for the evening, either in the smoking lounge, tea room, or their own cabins. I couldn’t blame them. The cool wind from that morning had not relented all day, and I would have sought the shelter of my cabin had I not been so overwrought with thoughts of Dr. Rushforth and Ruby Stratton.