by Rose Donovan
The pitching and lurching of the ship had begun to take its toll on both Ruby and Fina, so they had decided that sleep would be a good way to ride out the storm. Fina felt the combination of heavy food, an early bedtime and the sweltering humidity had contributed to her restless sleep. Now she couldn’t even call it sleep. It was just restlessness. And a certain… uncertainty.
After dampening herself down in the bathroom, forcing open their small window onto the deck as far as it would go, and returning to bed, she still couldn’t sleep. The crashes of the waves and the warbling thunder put her on edge.
She turned over to look at Ruby. As if her friend could sense her gaze, she opened her eyes. Only a bit.
“Are you having trouble sleeping? I am,” said Fina with a great sigh of frustration.
Ruby sat upright and turned on the bedside light. She yawned. “Yes, it’s been a frightful night so far. And we’re not even halfway through it.”
Suddenly, her eyes widened. “Did you see that figure moving past our window? They stopped for a minute, and I thought my heart might stop, too!” She pressed a hand to her chest.
Fina twisted her head in the direction of the window. “I didn’t see them, but it’s probably just Lev, Neville, Sarah or Agnes or even the captain.”
“You’re right. I don’t know why it gave me such a fright. It’s perfectly normal for them to be roaming around, especially since they’re probably all working through the storm.”
“Still,” said Fina in a sympathetic tone. “I know what you mean about being on edge.”
“You feel it too? I thought it was just my intuition acting up.”
Sensing atmosphere accurately was a speciality of Fina’s. “No, there’s definitely something going on. First of all, it’s an eccentric cast of characters on this ship. When pressed, they do seem to have legitimate reasons for being here – at least some of them – but somehow it doesn’t add up. They seem so uneasy, and yet I can’t say exactly why. It’s also odd that so many of them seem to know one another.”
“Mmm. Yes. I’ve wondered about that. Do you think there’s someone on board who links them all? There is the Hollywood connection. At least between Dolores and Balraj. And then there’s Ian being a producer,” Ruby said with a sharp intake of breath.
Letting out the air, she continued. “It is peculiar, and yet, I actually find each story about knowing one another plausible. But you’re correct that on the whole, something isn’t right.”
Fina said, “Since we’re obviously not going to be able to sleep, how about a turn on deck?”
As they left the cabin, a sudden lurch of the deck swept Fina’s legs out from under her. “Fina!” cried Ruby, clutching her arm as she slid underneath the brass railing outside their cabin door. Fina’s legs dangled over the side of the ship, just above the lower deck. She gripped the rail and, with Ruby’s assistance, began to pull herself up. Wincing and breathless, she heaved herself onto the deck. There would be many bruises in the morning.
Now upright, Fina bent over, catching her breath.
“Selkies and kelpies, Feens. Are you all right?” Despite herself, Fina gave out a weak laugh at her friend’s use of her favourite exclamation.
Wiping her fringe back from her forehead, she said, “I’ll be fine. I don’t understand how I slipped.” As she said this, a huge wave crashed against the boat and they were sent teetering toward their door.
“That’s how,” said Ruby. “It’s quite stormy. Let’s go back to our cabin.” She retrieved her key from her jacket pocket.
“No, now I’m determined to go for a, well, I suppose I can’t call it a stroll.”
“More like a roll.”
“Exactly. Really – let’s try it.”
Shrugging her shoulders, Ruby dropped the key back in her pocket and they staggered down the deck. As they turned the corner near the lounge, a great wave crashed against the ship, spraying them with seawater. Now they were as squishy as a bog, thought Fina.
“Let’s go downstairs – at least it’s covered,” said Fina. “It’s the one part of the ship Victor and I haven’t explored.” She was silent about her secret wish that they might run into Neville in the crew’s quarters.
They took the stairs slowly, gripping the railings as a small child grips a favourite toy they are asked to share with another child.
At the bottom of the stairs, they stood for a minute, listening to the creaks of the timbers. One door was rhythmically opening and closing with the pitch and roll of the ship.
Fina’s stomach rumbled. Why can’t you be satisfied for once, she thought. She realised her stomach was more perceptive than her brain. A warm sweet smell wafted through the door.
Both drawn like bears to honey, they tentatively knocked on the swinging door. No answer.
Fina poked her head around the door. She saw a tabby cat lapping up a bowl of cream, even as the bowl tended to slide about the floor. The cat ignored them.
This must be the crew’s mess hall. Along one wall hung pots and pans, gently swaying without hitting one another. The other wall was bare, apart from a few pen-and-ink sketches tacked on to the plaster with drawing pins. Fina thought she recognised the style, free-flowing yet confident. Of course – Agnes! She must spend some of her spare time ashore capturing the beautiful Caribbean landscapes.
Down the centre of the room, a long table was covered in a sky-blue cloth. A notebook lay on the table. Looking at the stove, she could see the gas burners were off, but the smell must be coming from the pots on the stove.
Their exploration was interrupted by an “ahem” coming from behind them. Lev.
He smiled and welcomed them to the kitchen with a great circular motion of his arms, as if they were entering his domain. Fina supposed they actually were entering his domain. “Are you hungry? There are some pots with food on the stove.”
“Oh no, we couldn’t,” said Ruby. “We – we were just taking a stroll.”
“A stroll? At this time? And in this weather?” Fina noticed something odd about the tone of his voice. His utterances sounded more like statements than questions. He was now standing in front of the table. In front of the notebook.
Feeling that the lack of sleep was finally settling in, Fina and Ruby were silent. Finally gathering her wits, Fina said, “We couldn’t sleep. And our cabin was stuffy, so we thought we’d get some fresh air.”
Apparently taking her statement at face value or ignoring the implausibility of it, Lev shook his head and said, “Come. I will show you upstairs to your quarters. It is not safe for walking now. You might fall overboard. Or worse.”
17
Zzzzzzzzzzz… Fina jolted upright and grabbed the bedclothes. She rubbed her neck where she had felt the mosquito. That incessant buzzing. Now awake, she realised that the sound was not in her head. It was coming from outside the cabin. She must have dreamt the sound was from a mosquito.
Shaking her head, she slid into her silk dressing gown and whispered, “Ruby, wake up.”
Ruby peeled open one eye. She shut it again.
“Do you hear that sound? Hmm, it’s stopped now. No, there it is again.”
Apparently in response, Ruby moved a pillow over her ears.
Fina left her behind to investigate on her own. As she stepped out of the cabin into the bright sunlight, Lev nearly knocked her over as he ran past her.
“What is going on?” she called after him, but he had already turned in the passageway. She made her way down the deck, through the passageway to the left, where she found a small crowd huddled at an open doorway.
Balraj’s doorway. Again she heard the sound she had mistaken for a mosquito. It was Agnes, heaving and whining. At regular intervals, she gave a shriek like a fox screaming in the night.
Agnes was rocking back and forth near the doorway.
Trying and failing to peek over Dolores’ shoulder, Fina tapped her lightly. “Is Balraj ill?”
Dolores turned. Her eyelids had nearly disappeared i
nto her head. “There’s – there’s been an accident.”
“Ohhh, he’s dead, he’s dead, dead,” yelled Agnes, twisting her apron in her hands.
By this time, it seemed as though the entire ship’s crew and passengers had arrived.
“Excuse me, sir, please let me through,” said Captain Mills in an officious tone. He gently moved Gustave’s arm to the side to wade through the crowd. Fina noticed that Gustave’s usually impassive face was still stony – but that his mouth hung open.
From behind her, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. “Feens, what’s happened?”
Dolores answered for her. “Balraj is dead.”
Ruby held her hand up to the large “O” that was her mouth. “Was he ill?”
With hat tucked underneath his arm, Captain Mills stood in the doorway. “Ahem. May I have your attention, please. I’m afraid there’s been an accident. A serious accident. I respectfully request that all guests return to their cabins or partake of the excellent breakfast prepared in the dining room.”
A great murmur of excitement and protest erupted from the crowd.
He held up his white-gloved hand. “Please, please, I do require that you accede to my request. It is absolutely necessary.”
“What kind of accident was it, Captain?” enquired Emeline – in a tone which implied the captain himself might be the cause of this accident.
“I cannot discuss this matter at this time. As for the crew, I request that you remain until I can discuss further instructions with you.” With a little fluttering motion of his hands – as if they were dismissed from class – he disappeared into Balraj’s room.
In the dining room, the clink of silverware on plates and the aromas of tea, coffee and eggs would normally provide a pleasant breakfast atmosphere. Usual murmurs about mundane affairs, such as how one slept, or plans for the day were replaced with stolen glances and stares at the horizon outside the windows of the dining room.
For once in her life, Fina’s stomach did not respond to the siren call of breakfast. She managed a few bites of dry toast. Ruby’s plate, on the other hand, featured a veritable carnival of delectable delights. She could see stewed fish and johnnycakes nestled next to chicken souse.
Distracting herself while Ruby ate, Fina noticed the hunger responses to the tragedy of the other guests. Patricia, hair protected in a fashionable silk wrap, picked at the eggs on her plate – but that was consistent with her general approach to food. She looked gaunt and anxious. Fina noticed that even in her day dress, Patricia wore a large, jewelled brooch. This time it was an iridescent opal dragonfly.
Sadie, too, was not hungry, but that might have been due to Victor’s general excitement about events. He was certainly enjoying his breakfast, despite the general pall cast over the room. No, that wasn’t quite accurate, thought Fina. The atmosphere wasn’t of sadness – everyone’s countenances reflected a passivity. Well, she expected that from Gustave, but not from the other passengers. Nervous tension? That wasn’t it, either. She had felt that at Pauncefort Hall. It was a kind of restlessness. That was as close as she could get to describing it. She reminded herself to mention it to Ruby later.
“Pass the salt, please, Fina,” said Ian as he sat down next to her. He had leaned over and whispered it, as if it were a conspiratorial message he wanted to deliver.
Deciding to play along, she slid the salt toward him and whispered, “Do you know what happened? You’re friends with the captain, so maybe he told you something.”
Ian dabbed his corners of his mouth, then set his arms on the table. He lowered his voice to such a volume that Fina felt she had to become a lip-reader. “It looks as though Balraj must have been murdered. He died from a blow to the back of his head. I suppose it could have been an accident, but it seems unlikely.”
Fina involuntarily gripped his arm. He winced. She removed it immediately after realising her nails had grown quite long. “But how do you know it’s not an accident – maybe he was knocked over by a wave and hit his head in the storm?”
Nodding, he said, “Yes, I agree that is plausible, but there’s just one problem. He was right inside the cabin, and there’s no evidence of anything having come into contact with his head.”
“Perhaps he wandered into his cabin after being hurt outside on deck.”
“It’s a good thought, but the blow was quite severe. I doubt he could have made it more than a few steps without falling down. Besides, he’d have to open the cabin door – most likely with a key, unless he left it unlocked.”
“What are you two whispering about?” enquired Ruby while she delicately wiped her mouth. “Let me guess,” she said with a slow smile.
Darting a glance around the room and the morose crowd, Ian responded, “Let’s move out on deck.”
“Good idea,” said Fina. “We don’t want to disturb the murderer’s breakfast.”
Fina was following him out when she felt Ruby grab her arm, pulling her back into the dining room.
“We can’t trust Ian,” Ruby murmured in her ear. “I know he’s charming – you know how charming I think he is – but he is up to something and we still don’t know what.”
Fina felt hurt that Ruby could think her naive, but she nodded nonetheless. She knew that Ruby’s complex relationship with Ian made her more cautious.
Placing her hand on Ruby’s upper arm, she said, “I know, I know. But this murder might be our chance to find our contact. Let’s play along with Ian to see where it gets us.”
The smile of relief on Ruby’s face signalled she was right.
Out on deck, Ian’s eyebrows wiggled in amusement.
“Why are you smiling, Ian? Murder is hardly worthy of a laugh,” said Fina.
“‘Disturb the murderer’s breakfast!’ I forgot how blunt you are, Fina. It is an endearing trait,” he said as he brushed an invisible piece of lint from his blazer sleeve.
“Condescension is hardly flattering, Ian,” said Ruby with a look of real venom in her eyes.
Taking a long drag on his cigarette, Ian’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Touché, dear Ruby. You’re right. As usual.”
Tapping her foot, Ruby said, “Well? What do you want of us? Are you here to interrogate us?”
“Ah, well, no. You see, this murder has made matters, well, more complicated. Maxwell – the captain, that is – and I go way back. He’s asked me to look into the matter for him. Keep things… discreet, you know,” he said with a wink.
“No, we don’t know,” Ruby huffed. “I’m certainly no fan of the police, but why wouldn’t we travel to the nearest island to alert the so-called authorities?”
The captain sidled up to Ian. His bearing was as military as ever, though there was an added stiffness, no doubt due to the stress of the tragedy.
Looking toward Ian, he cleared his throat. “As I’m sure Ian’s told you, we need to find out who caused this tragedy as soon as possible. Unfortunately, we had to veer off course because of the storm last night. That means we could travel due west to a number of islands, but at this point it would take just as long to do that as it would to go directly to Port of Spain. We are in the Atlantic more than the Caribbean at this point.”
“Go on,” said Ruby.
“So given your superior sleuthing skills that Ian told me about, I was hoping the two of you could join Ian in investigating this murder. We’d like to clear it up before we arrive. I know you two will understand why.”
Ruby looked at Fina. Fina nodded.
“We’ll see what we can do, Captain Mills. Thank you for your trust in us,” said Ruby.
With a grin of thanks, he spun round on his shiny shoes and marched down the deck.
Turning her gaze back to Ian, Ruby said, “Assuming we say yes – or I should say yes to working with you – can you guarantee that our sleuthing won’t come back to haunt us when we arrive in Port of Spain? And that you’ll keep our other activities at Pauncefort a secret?”
Placing his hand over his heart an
d giving a little bow, Ian said, “You have my word, dear ladies.”
“Well, we agree. Let’s get started.” Ruby and Fina moved to walk toward the scene of the crime.
“Wait,” said Ian. “You two aren’t on any sort of other business on this trip?”
Ruby stopped abruptly and turned. Her full skirt swished back like a cross-cutting wave. She drew close to Ian. Very close. So close Fina could barely hear her.
“Let’s be quite clear. We agree to help you, but you do not get to interrogate us. I am travelling to Port of Spain as Gustave’s assistant. Fina is here as a governess. That is all. Now, any more questions?”
Ian shook his lowered head, eyebrows furrowed.
Turning back again, Ruby marched down the deck, head held high.
18
Tremendous waves of nausea washed over Fina. Scampering out of Balraj’s cabin to the fresh air on deck, she leaned over the hot metal railing. Blessed relief rushed through her as the need to retch passed. Viewing dead bodies was not a new experience – she had seen her own father dead, as well as those who had been killed at Pauncefort Hall – but that blood. It wasn’t the quantity of blood, as there was precious little of it. No, she turned queasy when she saw the sticky, matted patch of blood on the back of the crushed skull.
Mustn’t think about it, she repeated to herself. Her mind wandered to a pleasant image of the lush green woods near their house in Tavistock. The memories of her father’s death and brother’s execution rose up from the recesses of her brain. Focus on the forest, Fina. Focus. This new technique helped with her worry and tension, especially when those searing memories emerged from the depths of her subconscious.
Fina relaxed her taut eyelids and gazed at the azure horizon. As she sucked in the sea air, the tempest in her stomach began to subside. Determined to be strong, she spun on her heel and marched back into the dreaded cabin.