by Rose Donovan
Balraj’s body now lay beneath a generously sized white sheet. Fina gave Ian a grateful grimace. She decided that being useful would be a good cover to her embarrassment. What better way to be useful than to become the official scribe? She pulled out the small notebook from her clutch and perched on the edge of the bed. Her pen poised itself above the notebook, ready for the start of a race.
Ruby nodded at Fina and began her commentary. “It seems definite that Balraj was killed by a blow to his head. Of course, he could have been killed some other way that doesn’t show trauma – such as poison – but there are no obvious signs of that.”
“I agree,” said Ian. “But where’s the murder weapon?”
Ruby tapped her teeth. “Good question. Nothing seems obvious,” she said as she scanned the room.
“I suppose the murderer could have chucked whatever it was overboard,” said Fina.
Ruby sighed in return. “That does seem the most plausible option. Why hold onto it?”
Ian nodded in agreement. “So he was hit near the top of his skull, not at the back of his head. Balraj was short – I’d say only a bit taller than Fina.”
Fina gave Ian a glare of mock offence.
“So that means the attacker was taller than him, or maybe similar height?” enquired Fina.
“Yes, that’s plausible,” said Ruby. “I suppose a shorter person could have lifted the weapon high above their head, but they’d need a great deal of strength.”
“The upshot is that we’re looking for a relatively tall murderer,” said Ian. “Though we cannot rule anyone out for certain at this stage,” he said as a hasty rejoinder.
“I’ll make a list,” said Fina, turning a page to start a new sheet.
“That would be Sadie, Phillip and Emeline,” said Ian.
“And you, Ian,” said Ruby with a smile.
Sighing, he nodded his head. “And you, dear Ruby. I’d gander you were perhaps five-foot seven?”
Now it was her turn to sigh and nod. “As for the crew, I’d say Sarah, Maxwell and Neville are all tall enough. Agnes and Lev are quite short.”
Fina had been scribbling furiously, but her pen suddenly scratched to a halt.
Ruby glanced up. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Fina?”
“I think so. Heels.”
Ruby nodded sagely.
“Heels?” enquired Ian.
“Yes, we shouldn’t rule out guests using high-heeled shoes in order to get a bit of height. That might elevate them enough to hit poor Balraj on the head.”
“So that means we need to include Patricia, Violet, Dolores, and Agnes,” he said with a sigh.
“And Lev and Gustave as well,” said Ruby, quietly.
Ian’s eyebrows wiggled again. “I don’t understand. Do you mean…?”
Ruby rolled her eyes. It was a rare occurrence, so Fina savoured it. “You work in the theatre, Ian. Use your imagination – not to mention your experience.”
“I suppose, but what if they were caught?” said Ian, wiping his brow with a handkerchief.
“They could slip them off and on. Besides, if I were the murderer, I’d be much more worried about being seen at all. A non-conforming wardrobe would be the least of my worries,” said Ruby.
“Do you think a woman could have done it? I mean, would she be strong enough?” asked Ian.
“Good Lord, Ian,” said Fina. “Your views on gender are positively archaic.”
Ian shot back, “Hardly, dear Fina. They may be archaic in your small social circles.”
Ruby was lively as a fire. She added, “And another point! The very idea that gender exists…” She stopped herself.
Ian grinned. “I may be archaic, but at least I am open. Point taken,” he said with a little curtsy to them both.
Fina’s nose began to twitch. What was that scent? She had thought she smelt it earlier, but had assumed it was in her head. “Do you two smell that? It smells faintly of perfume. Did Balraj wear cologne?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” said Ian. “Perhaps light aftershave, I suppose, but I cannot remember smelling it. Can you, Ruby?”
Ruby shook her head. “No, but my nose cannot be trusted. Fina has a very developed sense of smell. Let’s figure out where it is coming from.”
Motioning to Fina, the two approached the writing desk. The surface held a gold wristwatch, a small travel clock, a few pens and paper, along with a small assortment of bottles. Fina held each bottle to her nose, wagging her finger each time to indicate a negative result.
“Let’s try the bathroom,” said Fina.
“Good idea,” said Ian. “We haven’t looked in there yet.”
The three of them squeezed into the tiny bathroom. Nothing unusual met the eye, thought Fina. Toothbrush, tooth powder, comb, razor and soap. Fina held up the rather luxurious pomade jar and green mal de mer tonic bottle. Nothing.
As they re-entered the bedroom, Ruby dropped down on her haunches to move closer to the floor. “Look at the rug.” Fina and Ian followed suit.
As if instructing her pupils in the fine art of rug excavation, Ruby spread her hand out in a grand gesture. “Do you see how the patterned rug looks slightly discoloured? At first I thought it was a stain,” she said, gently touching the pattern. “But now I realise it is the result of the rug material – what would you call it?”
“Isn’t it the nap of the rug?” said Ian, helpfully.
“Aren’t you a fount of knowledge,” said Ruby. “Yes. See where the nap is raised? It means that unless Balraj brushed up against the rug himself, or moved the furniture, something else was dragged across here.”
Ian’s eyes grew wide. “Such as a body?”
“Selkies and kelpies!” said Fina, duly impressed by her friend’s brainpower.
“So why drag the body?” asked Ian, moving his legs around as he stood up.
Following suit, Ruby said, “Yes, exactly. Why?”
She frowned.
“What is it?” asked Ian.
“Well, it’s a shame that the entire floor isn’t covered in rugs. We cannot tell if the murderer dragged the body from somewhere else in the room, or even from outside the cabin,” said Ruby.
“Yes, it is a shame—” Ian stopped himself, mid-sentence. He held his finger up in a rather theatrical gesture. That was to be expected, Fina reminded herself.
He bent down over the body and made a motion to pull back the sheet. He paused. “Fina, you might want to look away for a moment.”
“Gladly,” she said, turning her head.
“I knew there was something strange about the body,” said Ruby. “You’re brilliant, Ian!”
Fina wished she could have seen the look on Ian’s face when Ruby called him brilliant. Her stomach gave a little flip of happiness – perhaps mixed with a teensy bit of jealousy.
“May I look now?” asked Fina.
“Yes, Feens,” said Ruby. “Ian realised that there was no blood, or ahem…”
“Grey cell matter,” interjected Ian.
“Disgusting!” said Fina.
“I agree,” said Ian. “But nevertheless there is little evidence of the murder actually occurring right here.” He pointed at the rug.
“What’s even more peculiar is the absence of blood on the rug, where the body had been dragged,” said Ruby.
“I’d better write these points down so we don’t forget them,” said Fina, rushing over to her notebook.
Engrossed in the rug, Ian continued. “Is it possible that the murderer just tidied up after themselves?”
Ruby gave a half nod, smoothing her dress and hair. “I suppose that’s possible. But it would take a lot of trouble: they’d have to have cleaning supplies, and nerves of steel, and a very good reason. Why? Why commit a murder and then clean up after it? What were they trying to hide?”
19
Fina guzzled her iced tea. She held the glass to her cheek. It was a hot day already and the mercury was rising by the minute.
Ia
n, Ruby, and Fina had decided to divvy up their tasks. Ruby and Fina would interview as many guests as possible while Ian would talk to the captain about what they had found so far. Thus, they found themselves in Dolores’ room – a natural place for them to start. The room looked different than their own, even though all the cabins had the same design and knick-knacks. Dolores had rearranged the furniture so the bedroom felt more like a sitting room.
After exchanging niceties about Ruby’s sketches, they settled down to the matter that was on everyone’s minds.
“I understand you and Balraj were quite close,” said Ruby.
Dolores’ hands flew up to her delicate features. She touched her temple and began to rub it, rhythmically. “I wouldn’t say close. We knew each other, of course, as we were both actors – and faced the same types of discrimination. But, I’d say our friendship was based on our careers rather than things we really had in common.”
“Was Balraj giving you career advice the other day in the lounge?” enquired Fina.
Dolores shifted in her seat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ruby reached over to Dolores and touched her lightly on the arm. “We understand you must be very upset, Dolores,” said Ruby. “But we’re just trying to find out what happened.”
Sitting back in the chair, Dolores responded, “I know. I want to find out what happened too – but I don’t know why I should trust you. You see, for most of my life, the people I’ve trusted have let me down. And with murder, well, I don’t have to tell you,” she said, looking directly at Ruby. “Let’s just say I want to play it safe. It’s not as if I can ask for my attorney to be present.”
“Maybe we could start off, instead, with what you know about what happened last night,” said Fina.
A gentle breeze floated in through the door, ruffling Dolores’ hair. She reached up to pat it back into place. She was clearly unconvinced.
“I’m happy to answer that question for you, but I don’t really understand why you and Ruby have apparently been deputised as detectives.”
Ruby glanced at Fina. “You see, we’re friends with Ian and Ian is friends with the captain. About five months ago when we first met Ian – at an ill-fated weekend party in England – there was a similar type of incident. Fina and I had the good fortune to be able to solve that particular mystery. That’s why Ian asked us to essentially become part of the investigation – especially because there are no police anywhere in sight. He trusts us and the captain trusts Ian.”
Dolores nodded her head slowly, as if the information needed a little time to sink in. “I think I’m beginning to see what you mean. Are you saying it’s better that we investigate this now, rather than wait for the so-called authorities when we arrive in Port of Spain?”
“Exactly,” said Ruby.
“All right, I guess I’ll play along. What do you want to know about last night?”
Feeling that the time was right to pull out her notebook, Fina prepared for some furious scribbling. This was the one and only time she wished she had learned shorthand.
“When did you retire to your cabin with a headache?” Ruby queried.
“About 6 o’clock that evening. I had had a bite to eat in the green room – I thought it would make me feel better – but it didn’t. I came back to my cabin, took a cold shower, and then went to bed.”
“When do you think you actually drifted off to sleep?” asked Fina.
“I think it must’ve been about 6:15, but I couldn’t be sure. I do take sleeping pills, and they usually knock me out right away.”
Dolores stared at the ceiling, eyes moving back and forth rapidly as if they were a typewriter carriage. “I woke up during the night. Looking back, I think it was because of some sort of noise. It was coming from the direction of Balraj’s cabin.”
“What kind of noise was it?” asked Ruby.
“That’s the trouble. You know how you wake up because of a noise, but you don’t really hear the actual sound – because you were asleep? That’s what happened.”
“What time was it you heard the noise?” asked Fina, not looking up from her scribbling.
Dolores sighed. “It was all over so quickly – I awoke, listened for a minute and then drifted back to sleep. I didn’t look at the clock. I do have a fairly well developed internal clock, however, so my guess is that it was maybe one or two in the morning – though that is a shot in the dark, as they say.”
“Did you hear anything else?” asked Ruby.
“No, wait,” Dolores stopped and cocked her head to one side as if listening carefully to herself. “I do remember a loud knocking noise. It must’ve been about 6:45 because I remember looking at my clock.”
“Was it coming from Balraj’s cabin?” enquired Ruby. “Or was it the direction of Gustave’s cabin?”
“I was already groggy, but I’m fairly certain it came from Balraj’s direction. Though I couldn’t tell if the knocking was on the outside of the door or on the inside of the door.”
Ruby jumped up. “Well, there’s one way to find out.”
Their experiment confirmed that Dolores had indeed heard the door knocking from outside the cabin rather than inside.
Alone once more, Ruby and Fina stood on deck, debating the next suspect to interview.
“Hmm. I think we should talk to Gustave next,” said Ruby. “After all, I have a connection with him so we may get more information than we will from other passengers.”
“I think we should speak to Violet, too. Even though she was in her cabin, she might have heard something,” said Fina.
Then a sudden rush of guilty adrenaline coursed through her limbs. Victor! How could she forget? “Where’s my head? I should be looking after Victor. In the upheaval of everything that’s happened, I completely forgot about my duties. Sadie will be quite peeved.”
“You know you shouldn’t feel poorly about it. We’ve both experienced death before, but it’s still a shock. Everyone is in shock. In fact, I’m sure the murderer is in shock as well – perhaps a shock of a different kind. Be good to yourself, Feens.”
Fina’s shoulders relaxed. “Yes, you’re right. I just had that feeling you get when you notice something’s missing. In my case, a little red-headed, bespectacled something.”
Ruby tapped her teeth. A sure sign her brain was engaged. “Something missing. Yes, that’s interesting.”
Had she had a breakthrough? Fina waited in suspense.
“Or perhaps something that’s not missing,” Ruby mused. Tap, tap.
No more was forthcoming. Shaking her head as if to return to reality, Ruby said, “Let’s go together to talk to Sadie. In the meantime, I’ll let this little idea of mine – yours, actually – marinate.”
Knowing better than to press for more information when Ruby’s ideas needed time to percolate, Fina smiled and stayed silent.
As they strode through the passageway, a ruckus erupted from the direction of Patricia and Emeline’s cabin. Fina motioned to Ruby to listen. They crept up opposite the door. Fina removed a small pair of field glasses from her bag.
“Just in case they come out – we can look as though we’re whale watching,” whispered Fina.
“Brilliant!” Ruby whispered back.
The crash of the sea against the ship made the whole listening business as choppy as the waves, thought Fina.
“Now that he’s dead, that stream of money to his ghastly causes will stop.” Fina could just make out Emeline’s voice.
“I could care less about those damn causes, Emmy. But that money that was funding his pet projects was affecting the price of our oil shares. Now those disturbances to the market should stop – within a few months. Crisis will be averted,” Patricia answered.
“Well, that means that you can reinstate my allowance. You know how much money I need for the eugenics work. It is a cause of the highest moral and scientific order. It’s—”
“Oh, go stuff your moral and scientific order. Not a penny more, d
o you understand, Emmy. Not a penny more!”
Crash. It sounded like a lamp might have fallen on the floor. Crikey.
Fina’s and Ruby’s heads turned simultaneously to one another. Ruby’s eyes widened.
Heavy footsteps – like a goose-stepping general – approached the door. Fina and Ruby scrambled around the corner.
Slam. Quickly, Ruby and Fina changed their postures, indicating they were just casually strolling down the passageway.
Emeline whipped around the corner, leaning at an angle like a charging bull. Her hair, usually pulled back in a clenched bun, had fallen to the side. Wisps of hair fell around her face like cobwebs. Her wool turtleneck looked as if it were ready to strangle her already strained throat. She held a briefcase. It slipped through her fingers to the floor. As she retrieved it, slips of paper escaped, fluttering about in the gentle sea breeze.
She shrieked. “Please, please help me retrieve these papers,” she said as she ran to scoop up the closest escapee. Ruby and Fina set to work and soon returned the sheaf of typewritten pages. Fina glanced at what was clearly a title page. It read “No Escape”. Must be one of her frightful eugenics or marriage promotion screeds, she thought.
As she tucked one of the loose strands of hair behind her ear, Emeline said, “I’m most grateful to you two.” She hugged the papers to her chest. Fina couldn’t help but admire her self-command. It must have cost her some considerable effort to bite back her pride and accept help from someone who had slapped her face only the day before, but she managed it with aplomb. Perhaps she was used to fielding violent opposition to her views.
Sensing a grand opportunity, Fina took the lead. “Glad to be of service, Miss Caulk. I know we’re all feeling at loose ends after what happened this morning.”
“Yes, it is such a tragedy. But I always say that you shall reap what you sow. And really, what can you expect from…”
It took all of Fina’s strength not to look in Ruby’s direction. She could only imagine her facial expression. Anger rose up in her – again – but she knew she had to play nice.
Deciding the best course was to ignore Emeline’s insults, Fina said, “We’ve been trying to piece together what happened last night. Did you see Balraj – that is, before you went to bed?”