by Rose Donovan
The Mystery of Ruby’s Port
Rose Donovan
Contents
More Ruby Dove Mysteries
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
About the Author
Note about British Style
More Ruby Dove Mysteries
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Cast of Characters on the SS Sanguine
Ruby Dove – Student of chemistry at Oxford, fashion designer and amateur spy-sleuth. Assistant to Gustave Marchand on this ill-fated voyage.
Fina Aubrey-Havelock – Student of history at Oxford, assistant seamstress to Ruby and her best friend. Governess to Victor Winchcombe-Twisleton on this cruise to disaster.
Ian Clavering – Theatre producer, smashing fashion plate, and a follower of Ruby.
Lev Nesterov – Steward with a taste for cocktails and political intrigue.
Agnes Gidge – Artist, gossiper and maid.
Sarah Breeze – Poet and on-board cook.
Balraj Chadha – Film star and life of the party.
Lady Winchcombe-Twisleton, née Sadie Stiles – Mother of Victor and widow of Lord Winchcombe-Twisleton. A social climber.
Victor Winchcombe-Twisleton – Son of Sadie Stiles. A swine enthusiast.
Gustave Marchand – Fashion designer from Paris with a rather vague past.
Neville Emmanuel Raymond – Steward who appreciates mystery books and Fina Aubrey-Havelock.
Maxwell Mills – Captain of the SS Sanguine. Ian’s old school chum.
Dolores Dominguez – Hollywood star. Has little tolerance for antics of others.
Patricia Burbage – Sister to Emeline. Superstitious heir to oil company fortune.
Emeline Caulk – Sister to Patricia. Missionary.
Phillip Gibbs – Father to Gilbert and husband of Violet. Plenty of energy, nervous or otherwise.
Violet Gibbs – Mother to Gilbert and wife to Phillip. An unhappy traveller.
Gilbert Gibbs – Son of Phillip and Violet. A mischief-maker when he gets the chance.
Souse – Head cat of the SS Sanguine with a taste for Sarah Breeze’s cooking.
1
A white object fluttered down into the blue of the sea.
Clutching her hat and stomach at the same time, Fina leaned over the railing. The booklet had fallen face down, gently skimming the water’s surface on a journey into the unknown.
“Ruby!” shrieked Fina, leaning so far over the gangplank railing that she risked meeting the same fate as her passport.
Ruby, positioned below Fina on the dock, sprang into action. As she slid with a fluid movement to her left, she snatched an oar from a nearby rowing boat. She plied it into the water and scooped up the soggy miscreant.
As Ruby lifted her prize up in triumph, Fina saw her friend nearly drop both the oar and the passport into the water. Ruby craned her neck to the side, her face now displaying a round “O” of surprise.
Fina leaned over the railing even further to glimpse who or what had surprised her friend. Seeing nothing, she let out a sigh of relief that her passport was safe.
It was not an auspicious way to start their journey from Nassau, in the Bahamas, to Trinidad’s Port of Spain. Knowing that Ruby would soon join her on deck, with not long to wait before the ship set off, Fina strolled up the gangplank, onto the SS Sanguine.
It was a glorious day, though Fina realised that most days in Nassau were probably glorious, especially compared to the grey of Oxford. She admired the graceful lines of the SS Sanguine, and felt a surge of pleasurable anticipation of their voyage.
“Pardon me!”
A surge of pain replaced that of anticipation as large suitcase rammed into her legs, nearly knocking Fina overboard like her passport. Turning to see the source of the pain, she saw two tall figures striding along the deck away from her.
Hmph, thought Fina. How positively rude.
The tallest figure, encased in a rather unseasonable tweed, spat out, “Young ladies,” as if describing a troublesome slug found in the garden. The shorter figure – though still quite tall – clad in a fashionable yachting outfit, replied, “Come along, Emmy. I do hope our cabin isn’t as dreadful as the one on our voyage from Southampton.”
Fina turned back toward the gangplank, wincing as she rubbed the back of her leg. Thank goodness that pair hadn’t been aboard the same ship as she and Ruby had taken from Southampton themselves.
A small child in white, perhaps aged five, skipped up the gangplank. He held a toy ship aloft, flying it as if it were an airplane. “Mummy! Mummy, can I have the lolly we brought with us now?” he enquired, turning back to a woman in a faded, flowered frock. The woman grasped the rope and pulled herself up toward the deck, reminding Fina of the last few steps of a mountain climber before she reaches the summit.
“Not at the moment, Gilbert,” she gasped, letting out a great stream of air as she dropped a small but apparently stupendously heavy bag onto the deck.
“Let’s not bother Mummy right now, Gilbert. Come along. Let’s help Mummy carry her bag,” said a genial-looking man in a rather shabby brown suit more suitable to Brighton than the Bahamas. He gave Fina a slight nod and a smile by way of introduction and then continued on his way down the deck, toward the cabins. His wife also gave Fina a smile, though it was rather wan. She could see little beads of sweat along the woman’s hairline as she dragged herself after her son and husband. Was she ill? Were they on holiday?
A tug on her sleeve jolted Fina’s naturally inquisitive and wandering mind. Looking down – though not too far given her small stature – she saw the red head of Victor Winchcombe-Twisleton. Victor’s eyes peered up at her through round, rather adorable tortoiseshell glasses. “Would you read this to me, Miss Aubrey-Havelock?” he enquired while proffering a book titled Little Grey Rabbit.
Shading her eyes from the sun, Fina squinted at him and said, “I’d be delighted to, Victor, but you can read it yourself! How about you read it to me?”
“Not now, Victor,” rumbled a silky yet slightly gravelly voice. “Leave Miss Aubrey-Havelock alone. I’m sure she’s just dying to get to her room.” Fina gave the speaker a grateful nod. “Thank you, Lady Winchcombe-Twisleton—” said Fina.
“Please just call me Sadie, Miss Aubrey-Havelock.”
“Sadie, then. And please do call me Fina. I was about to suggest that I come to your cabin once we get settled – if that agrees with you – and we’ll discuss which lessons you’d like me to go over with Victor during the voyage. Then perhaps the two o
f us can explore the ship together,” she said, giving Victor a light touch on the shoulder. He grinned.
“That sounds like a smashing idea, as you Brits say,” said Lady Winchcombe-Twisleton with a wave of her hand, which caused her emerald green satin frock to ripple from the movement. Fina watched as she sauntered off with Victor and a porter in tow. Marvellous confidence, sighed Fina to herself. You would never think she had been born plain old Sadie Stiles.
“Mooooo,” the ship boomed. Clearly an All Aboard signal. Fina felt that familiar anxious knot settle in her stomach. She ran to the side of the ship and yelled, “Ruby!”
No one answered.
2
“Feens, don’t worry – I’m here.”
Fina spun round and saw her friend, resplendent in her signature grey travelling outfit – though this time it was in a more appropriate linen rather than wool – leaning on the railing. She held up Fina’s passport by one corner, as if it had an unpleasing odour.
“I’m afraid it is rather waterlogged, but it will soon dry in this lovely warm sun.”
Claiming the passport with a sheepish smile, Fina said, “Thank you! You’ve saved my bacon – again. But how did you find your way on board? I’ve been on deck the whole time, waiting for you.”
“Well, there is another way. You’ll never guess who showed it to me. Never.”
“Out with it!” squealed Fina.
A deep, lilting voice boomed out from further down the deck. “It was me.”
Fina clutched the railing. “Ian! What on earth are you doing aboard?” Ian Clavering, clad in a white suit and red cravat, looked as dashing as ever. The navy blue square peeking out of his pocket was an impeccable final touch, she thought.
Ian’s eyebrows wriggled as he gave out a short laugh. “Following you two, of course.”
“No, but quite seriously, what are you doing on board?” Fina queried.
“Well, as I told Ruby a minute ago, it’s more plausible to ask that question of you two. After all, I’m from the Bahamas, remember?”
Indeed she did. How could she forget this man who had figured so prominently in the mysterious affair at Pauncefort Hall last winter? Casting her mind back, she could almost hear the voice of Lady Charlotte, pointing out Ian to her and explaining that even though he was one of London’s top theatre producers, he often spent half the year in the Bahamas to be with his family. She had wondered at the time how he managed it.
Ruby intervened. “Ian doesn’t read Drapers Record as faithfully as you and I do, Feens, so he won’t have heard of Gustave Marchand. I had to explain to him that I was accompanying an aspiring new dress designer, whose ambitions are the talk of Paris. He is keen to meet Trinidadian designers and talk to them about developing his first full collection.”
“After all the expert sleuthing you two did at Pauncefort Hall, I’d almost forgotten about your second career as tailoresses,” remarked Ian.
Ruby’s arched eyebrows showed what she thought of his choice of words, but she let it pass. In the interest of harmony, Fina jumped in.
“When I found out about Ruby’s opportunity, I tried to figure out a way to tag along,” she said, turning toward Ian. “It seemed rather dire as I scarcely have a shilling to my name, but Mr Marchand was kind enough to contact Lady Winchcombe-Twisleton. She is an American who married the late Lord Winchcombe-Twisleton. You might have read about his untimely death – about a year ago – in the newspapers. She is determined to raise her son, Victor, in England. Mr Marchand asked her if I could be governess to Victor on this trip, as a sort of test run to continue on when we return to London. But I’m babbling on – you must be ready to settle into your cabin.”
“That’s kind of you, Fina. I’ve actually already settled in. The captain of the ship, Maxwell Mills, is an old school friend of mine. I’ve been on board a few days already.”
“Oh. Is that why you’re here – to reminisce with an old friend?” asked Fina.
Ian’s eyelids flickered. “Yes, partially.” He cleared his throat. “I have some business contacts in Port of Spain, so I thought I’d combine business with pleasure,” he said, eyeing Ruby. “Little did I know how much pleasure until you two showed up.”
Ruby did not appear impressed. Fina was puzzled. She expected her friend to be pleased, or at least to display a nervous energy, given how sparks had flown between her and Ian when they were at Pauncefort Hall.
“Yes, well, we’ll see you around, Ian,” said Ruby in a flat voice. With that, she turned toward the starboard side of the ship and began to walk with purpose toward what must be their cabin.
Feeling slightly embarrassed by Ruby’s rather uncharacteristically abrupt behaviour – usually that was her own calling card – Fina gave Ian an apologetic little smile and scurried off after her friend.
She hurried along the deck, admiring the gently rocking boats in the harbour. Even though she skidded down the deck in haste, she savoured the pungent smell of the sea.
Snap.
Her handbag slid across the planks as she tripped on a rope lying across the deck. “Selkies and kelpies,” she muttered to herself. Out of the ether, a youngish man, perhaps in his early thirties, materialised. He wore a charming striped sailor’s shirt. “Vybachte – I’m sorry,” he said in a clipped voice. His face looked more apologetic than his words conveyed. He held out a hand to Fina.
“My name is Lev, Lev Nesterov. Steward and deckhand. Please forgive my rope. I think all passengers are in their cabins – so I do some deck work,” he said, rubbing the leg of his trouser nervously with his other leg.
“Pleased to meet you, Lev. My name is Fina.”
“You do not go by Miss So-and-so? That is a relief,” he said. He held his hand to his mouth as if he was appalled by his own words.
With a burbling laugh, Fina replied, “Yes, please do call me Fina. I’m working as a governess for Lady Winchcombe-Twisleton.”
The ship gave a great lurch as it prepared to leave the harbour. Lev reached out to steady Fina.
“Yes,” he said. “We will all need to get our – it is what in English? Sea legs. Yes. So you must be in cabin number 1, next to Lady Twisleton-Winchcombe… I mean Twislecombe-Winchton. Ah!” he said, holding his hands aloft in frustration. “You know what I mean. Here, I will assist you.”
Lev guided Fina down the gleaming beige wooden deck toward her cabin. After thanking him and providing a small tip – which he promptly refused – Fina knocked on the door.
“Come in!” she heard a muffled voice say.
Opening the door revealed a surprisingly spacious cabin, filled, but not overstuffed, with furniture and paintings. Two comfy looking beds occupied most of the room, but the corner held a mahogany wardrobe and writing desk. A sandstone statue of a parrot stood watch balefully over the stationery supplies on the desk. Above the desk hung a red and orange painting of a sunset, bringing an extra warmth – not heat, thank goodness – to the room. Turning around, she saw a tiny turtle, carved out of wood, perched on a ledge above the door. She smiled to herself, thinking it a welcome talisman for the voyage.
The open suitcase filled with neatly folded squares on one counterpane indicated Ruby had already selected her bed. Ruby exited the bathroom at that moment and collapsed onto the bed. Her shoulders were hunched, and she grasped her favourite blue handkerchief – a gift from her late grandmother in St Kitts – tightly in her hand, as if it might wriggle out and escape at any moment.
Fina thought the look on her own face must have betrayed her feelings about Ruby’s abrupt exit. Ruby nodded her head, as if to agree with her own unspoken words.
“I apologise for just leaving you behind like that,” said Ruby. “I was so taken aback by what I surmised was Ian’s apparition that I promptly forgot all of my manners.” She dabbed her forehead lightly with the handkerchief.
“It is surprising, but I cannot understand why you wouldn’t be pleased to see him. After all, you two were so close at Pauncefort…” said F
ina, collapsing on her bed and staring up at the ceiling.
“Yes, well, I’m happy to see him for just that reason. But I couldn’t help but think that the coincidence is a little too convenient. After all, he had plenty of opportunities to call on me in Oxford after the ghastly business at Pauncefort. And he didn’t. And now he just happens to be on the same ship?” she said, shaking her head.
“So if he’s not here for romantic reasons, do you think he’s following us because of our, ah, other activities?” enquired Fina, suddenly sitting up. “After all, we did reveal to him our association with anti-colonial campaigns when we were at Pauncefort. But are we really important enough to follow all the way here?”
Ruby’s upper body rocked to and fro in agreement. “It is hard to believe that two young women pose a threat, but remember who we are. Police always pay attention to me, no matter how much I dress up. I also have family in the Caribbean, some of whom I suspect are being watched by local authorities. And you…”
“Yes, I suppose if they found out about my Irish side of the family – not to mention my political sympathies.”
“And your family’s case,” whispered Ruby. As soon as she uttered those words, she looked horrified by her misstep.
Fina’s mind froze. Her brother’s face. Connor. His look of anguish as the judge pronounced him guilty of her father’s murder.
Ruby sat quietly for a moment. Then she began again. She had clearly learned how to respond to Fina in such a way that she brought her friend back to reality – freeing her, at least temporarily, from those painful memories.