The Mystery of Ruby's Port (The Ruby Dove Mystery Series Book 2)

by Rose Donovan

  Neville wiped his brow. “Fina and Ruby, I’m glad I found you.”

  They both now stood at attention. Fina could tell from his ramrod-straight posture that something was wrong. Very wrong.

  “Agnes has vanished.”

  30

  Fina’s mouth hung open as wide as that of the fish served at last night’s dinner.

  “Vanished?” she repeated, as if she had not heard the word. The familiar knot of dread tightened her stomach.

  Neville nodded and kept nodding. He couldn’t stop.

  Ever self-possessed, Ruby put an arm around Neville’s shoulder. “When did you notice she was missing?”

  “This morning. She wasn’t at breakfast. Agnes never misses breakfast. She’s the first one there and the last one to leave.”

  “Has the captain been informed?” asked Fina.

  “Yes, that was the first thing I did. He ordered an immediate search of all rooms. That’s what I’m about to do. He said that we were not even to inform the guests, but get on with it immediately. Of course, you two are different…”

  One side of Ruby’s face rose, conveying scepticism. “Our cabins are so tiny that it would be impossible to hide ah, Agnes, and not think the bod—, I mean she, would be discovered soon.” She paused. “But I understand the captain’s impulse to do so. It should keep the murderer distracted for a while, if nothing else.”

  Fina and Neville nodded in unison at her statement.

  She continued, “Neville, I assume you, Lev and Sarah will conduct this search?”

  “Yes. Ian will also be joining us. Sarah, however, will be working in the kitchen. She says cooking soothes her nerves. She is in a foul temper. And how could I blame her? We’re all on edge.”

  Fina held her head with both hands. This trip had been only four days, but it certainly felt like four years. Breathe, Fina, she told herself. Everything will be fine. Soon we’ll be in Trinidad and this will all be sorted.

  “Feens?” said Ruby, grasping Fina’s shoulders.

  She looked up at Ruby, who looked like she could use a hug herself. They took deep breaths in unison.

  “We’re going to get through this,” said Fina, as much to herself as to Ruby.

  “Yes,” said Ruby, straightening up. She turned to Neville.

  “Have you searched thoroughly in the crew’s quarters downstairs yet?” she asked.

  “More of a quick search,” he replied. “I didn’t look under beds and the like as I thought she must be cleaning one of the rooms upstairs.”

  “I think it’s time to search under beds,” said Ruby, teeth clenched.

  After the trio had searched the crew’s sleeping quarters, kitchen and engine room, they came to the utility room. It reeked of washing powder and mothballs. Dim light filtered from a buzzing lightbulb. Along the wall stood two wash basins. They pushed aside layers of linens hanging from clotheslines as if they were walking through dense underbrush.

  And then Fina saw it. The heel of a shoe, a white shoe. The colour of the shoe camouflaged it among the white sheets. Unconsciously, she began to double over in anticipation of what was connected to that shoe.

  She said nothing but pointed at the heap of linens.

  Neville reached the pile of linen first. He lifted the sheets gingerly to reveal a leg. As he began to reveal more, Fina turned away.

  “It’s Agnes, all right,” breathed Neville. “It looks as if she’s been hit on the head, but I think she’s still alive.”

  Ruby rushed out of the room as soon as Neville had finished his sentence. As she ran, she yelled, “Going to fetch Violet!”

  Neville and Fina dug through the pile of linen around Agnes as gently as they could, uncovering her motionless body. Fina felt an all-too-familiar raw acid creeping up her oesophagus. As if he could sense she was going to need to leave the room, Neville said, “Fina, please find the captain. He’ll need to know what happened. I’ll make Agnes comfortable until Mrs Gibbs arrives.”

  Grateful for this method of escape, Fina leapt up from her crouched position. Instantly she knew she had leapt up too quickly. The room began to swim. Then everything went black.

  31

  Something tickled her cheek. Then her arms. A cool dampness descended on her forehead.

  Fina blinked as a hand moved the washcloth across her face.

  Emeline stared down at her. “How are you feeling, Fina?” she said in a soft voice. Emeline smiled. Fina had never seen Emeline smile, so it was rather disconcerting – it was as if she were trying it for the first time. Her thin lips were pulled back so far they revealed her pale gums.

  Now Fina’s eyes were wide open. She was back in her own cabin. “What, what happened? I remember Agnes…”

  “Shhh, there now, dear. Just rest. Here’s some tea. It will make you feel much better,” she said, tipping a steaming cup toward Fina’s mouth.

  Fina tried to rise, not to drink the tea, but to move out of this vulnerable position. Emeline’s hands held her fast on the bed.

  “Let go!” cried Fina, waving her hands which caused the teacup to tumble to the floor.

  Emeline sat back, stunned. “I was just trying to help, dear.”

  Fina gave Emeline’s facial expression and body language her full attention. What on earth was different about her? Her posture, while still straight, was not rigid. Her hands lay in her lap, naturally, rather than being balled into fists. And her face – well, it seemed softer, as if someone had ironed out those wrinkles that come with worry or personalities determined to set the world right.

  “Where is Ruby and why are you here?” she demanded.

  Emeline’s mouth transformed into that wolf-like smile again. “Ruby and the others are attending to Miss Gidge. I offered my room since, since Patricia isn’t there.” Her eyes began to well up. This was the first time Fina thought Emeline had displayed genuine emotion rather than a reaction. “Years ago, I also acted as a nurse – even though I’ve had no formal training – for our mother and father during their long declines in health.”

  The knot in Fina’s stomach began to loosen a bit. Her survival urge to leave the cabin dissipated. Something odd was going on, certainly, but she wasn’t in immediate danger.

  Emeline paused. She stared at the crack in the ceiling and then at the sea, visible through a small opening in the curtains. She looked like a woman contemplating a difficult decision.

  “Thank you for tending to me while the rest of the ship is in an uproar. Is there something wrong, something I can help you with?” prompted Fina.

  Emeline crooked her finger and beckoned Fina closer. It was all too reminiscent of Little Red Riding Hood, but she moved closer anyway. Bending toward her so her chair tipped at an angle, Emeline whispered one word, directly in her ear.

  “Wendell.”

  Then Emeline sat back, rocking her tilted chair into place. A look of sly satisfaction passed over her face. No doubt it was in reaction to her own expression, thought Fina.

  Fina clutched at the bedclothes, as if grabbing onto something would help her make sense of Emeline’s simple statement. Though her mind raced, it failed to reach any conclusion, instead spinning round in circles. Was this some sort of trap? What would Ruby do? Why had Emeline told her, Fina, rather than telling Ruby? After all, Wendell was Ruby’s brother. And what about Emeline’s horrible projects?

  Fina shook her head and closed her eyes. None of this made any sense.

  Emeline, probably sensing her confusion, began to offer some answers. “You must be puzzled about why I’m telling you rather than Ruby.”

  Fina blinked, not wanting to give anything away, but still willing her to continue.

  Emeline crossed her legs casually – certainly a gesture Fina had never seen her engage in before. Rummaging around in her carpet bag, she looked triumphant as she pulled out a packet of Woodbine cigarettes and a silver lighter.

  “You smoke?!” asked Fina. She couldn’t help herself. This transformation was too much.


  Emeline smiled again. With each successive smile, it looked more natural – like the way other people smile. She must be easing back into character, thought Fina. But which one of these characters was real? The old or the new Emeline?

  Leaning back while blowing smoke away from Fina’s face, Emeline said, “Yes, dear Fina. I smoke. I drink. I have fun, believe it or not. I see by your face that my little transformation has you quite puzzled. As we’re unlikely to be disturbed for a while, I will give you the full story.”

  “Please do,” said Fina, confident that agreeing wouldn’t give anything away.

  “As for the first question – about why I said ‘Wendell’ to you rather than Ruby – that’s because if anyone saw me talking to Ruby, it would ‘blow my cover’ as the Americans say. I had built up an image that protected me, as well as the two of you, so I had to keep it up,” she said, tipping ash into an unused ashtray on the nightstand. Neither Fina nor Ruby smoked.

  “You mean to say that your character – the original Emeline – was all an act?”

  “Absolutely, my dear. You see, it isn’t hard for me to pretend, because that used to be my genuine character. That’s who I really was, up until about five or six years ago.”

  “What happened then to change you?”

  “I was a missionary – the details will bore you. I had some realisations about British money interests and the ways people were treated. And I fell in love.”

  Fina suppressed a giggle. She felt guilty, but the thought of the original Emeline falling in love seemed completely at odds with her old personality. The only way she knew how to quash the burbling laughter inside of her was to ask another question. “And that forever changed you?”

  “Didn’t something change you, dear Fina? Those of us born with blinkers have to have something shake us into consciousness.”

  Fina nodded. Oh yes, she had had a number of experiences in her life that shook her. It was cumulative for her, however, rather than a single event.

  Emeline smiled, guessing that Fina did not want to share any of these stories with the rather peculiar old or new Emeline.

  “To make quite a long story short, I joined in the cause, as you might say. That’s why I’m here today, telling you Wendell’s name. I know in due course, after you’ve had time to tell Ruby, that you’ll make sure I get whatever it is you’re supposed to pass along to me.”

  “But wait, why are you telling me now? And how could you fool your sister?”

  “Well, I don’t think any of us expected a murder to occur, let alone two, plus the attempted murder of Miss Gidge. I know I’ve been acting suspiciously, so I figured I’d better tell you two – since you are investigating these crimes – before things spiralled out of control even more.”

  As she talked, Fina played back a photographic reel of Emeline’s behaviour in her mind. “Yes, I can see that you were putting on an act, but why were you so flustered about your manuscript?”

  Emeline’s eyes dilated with excitement. “I’m a writer.”

  “Yes,” said Fina. “Go on.”

  “I write pulp fiction. You two saw my manuscript.”

  “Why that’s fabulous, Emeline!” said Fina, really meaning it.

  “You think so?” Emeline sounded like a dog seeking approval. “I do rather enjoy it – and make a modest income from it. My pen name is Jack Juliano.”

  Fina cleared her throat. “How about my second question – about fooling your sister?”

  Emeline’s face contorted with grief. “She was a rather silly woman, but she was still my sister. I shall miss her a great deal,” she sniffed, her eyes turning glassy. “It was quite easy to keep up the act with her – if that’s what it’s called – since that’s the way she always thought of me. But this business with her oil shares limited my ability to act the part. The worker deaths and the like. I think she suspected something wasn’t quite right, although I don’t know that for sure.”

  “How did she act differently?”

  “I wasn’t as fulsome in my praise of her as I had been in the past – as I’m her big sister. It wasn’t anything definite, but there was a growing distance between us. Ironically, I think she thought I wanted her money for my various causes.”

  “Well, she certainly seemed to be on the defensive. She gave us plenty of warnings.”

  Emeline’s eyes bulged. “What do you mean? What warnings? About her death?”

  “Yes, she said that she was in danger – that someone wanted to take her life. I’m not sure why, but I’m certain the threat must have been from an acquaintance. That is, someone who wasn’t her sister.”

  “That’s possible. It could account for her being on edge. Perhaps I misinterpreted her distance from me – maybe she had other things on her mind.”

  “It could have been both, but I think there was more to it – especially because whoever threatened her carried out their promise,” replied Fina.

  Fina paused and shifted on the bed. “I assume you didn’t kill her.”

  A burst of air indicated Ruby had returned to the room.

  “Ruby!” cried Fina, outstretching her arms as if this was their first reunion in years.

  In a comic gesture, Ruby looked from Fina to Emeline and then back again. She shook her head in disbelief.

  Fina was so focused on Ruby that she had scarcely a moment to see Emeline’s face after she made her statement about the murder. That moment told her nothing. Emeline had resumed her rigid posture and slight pucker of her lips, as if she were perpetually sucking on a lemon.

  “Ah, Fina, I’m glad to see you’re feeling better. But why—” Ruby faltered. She flopped down in a chair. Fina couldn’t help but notice that it was the farthest possible seat from Emeline.

  Emeline rose from Ruby’s bed. She clutched her carpet bag, strode to the door and said, “Thank you for our little chat, Miss Aubrey-Havelock. I will bid you adieu.” And with that, she slammed the door.

  “What in heaven’s name?” said Ruby, still looking completely bewildered.

  A little rush of pleasure at having vital information coursed through Fina’s veins. “She’s the contact!”

  Ruby’s eyes widened but then she shook her head. “Not possible, not possible.”

  “But she told me the code word – Wendell!” Fina proceeded to retell the rather miraculous story to Ruby. As she repeated the story out loud, it began to sound progressively unbelievable.

  Ruby sat patiently and didn’t interrupt. But Fina could tell from her face that she wasn’t convinced.

  As she finished her tale, Fina said, “I know it sounds rather preposterous, but it’s so preposterous that it is believable!”

  Ruby nodded. “You do have a point there, Feens. It would be hard to concoct a more half-baked story than that.”

  Fina lowered her head. “Then you don’t believe it?”

  “I didn’t say that. I just said it is rather implausible,” she sighed. “But, as we know from past experience, the implausible can be true.”

  Readjusting her pillows into a comfy backrest, Fina said, “Has something happened that makes you doubt Emeline’s story? How is Agnes, by the way?”

  Ruby smiled. “Agnes is unconscious, but Violet said she is likely to recover. Thank goodness.”

  Her smile turned to a frown. “As to the other question, I do doubt Emeline’s story.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Lev just pestered me again about those books Neville gave you.”

  Fina groaned. Was everyone on this ship their contact, starting with Victor and his pig?

  “I know, Feens,” Ruby said leaning back in her chair as if she had just finished a rather rich meal. “Lev approached me after I left Violet and Agnes in Emeline’s room. He asked me if the two of us had enjoyed Neville’s reading recommendations. I said they were gratifying, especially the Makhno book. I assumed he meant that one. Then he questioned me about the Ngaio Marsh book – A Man Lay Dead. I said it was also entertaining. He ke
pt pestering me about Marsh, asking what I thought of the characters and the plot. He was clearly prompting me to say something specific.”

  “And this is when you suspected this conversation had something to do with Wendell,” said Fina slowly putting together the puzzle pieces in her mind.

  “Exactly. This conversation, combined with Neville’s earlier enquiry about the books, made me wonder if we missed something in the books.”

  “But I read the Makhno, cover to cover. Nothing. I even removed some of the backing on the book to see if there was a hidden piece of paper.”

  “Would you take a look at A Man Lay Dead? It’s on the nightstand next to you.”

  Fina opened the novel. She flicked through it. “Why the mystery book?”

  “Because unlike your conversation with Neville about the books – plural – my conversation with Lev was about Marsh, not Makhno.”

  Fina flipped to the first page and began to methodically weave her way through the pages – not reading them, but looking for anything out of the ordinary. By the time she reached chapter four, she gave a little yelp.

  Ruby hurried over to the bedside.

  “Look!” squeaked Fina, pointing to the first page of the chapter. She read, “The weasel-like eyes of the new don scanned the room with an enterprising look. ‘Look here,’ he said.”

  Ruby began jumping up and down. “That’s it, we’ve cracked it, Feens! Lev and Neville are the contacts.”

  After the initial excitement subsided, Ruby’s jumping turned to pacing. “But how did Emeline find out about it, too? Why would she go to all that effort? And Lev and Neville had plenty of opportunities to make contact in much easier ways.”

  Fina nodded. “Someone must be lying.”

  “Or spying,” said Ruby grimly. “We need to be careful who we trust.”

  32

  Dinner was a pathetic affair. Everyone sat in their pairs that night – assuming their partner was still available, as it were. Even the food was lacklustre, but Fina knew how upset Sarah had been over the attack on Agnes. Before dinner was served, the captain announced they would arrive tomorrow afternoon. The thought of the authorities, the authorities coming on board and questioning… Fina shook her head. Worrying about it was not going to make it go away, she told herself firmly.