If only she had the time to just think everything through.
But she was not to have it, for a knock soon sounded at her door. With a warning gesture at Pepe, Lenora opened the door a cautious inch. It was the doctor.
Lenora opened the door, but stood blocking it. The doctor roughly moved her aside and entered, closing the door behind him.
Her breath caught in her throat and her heart raced. Was he the killer? Was he going to harm her for reading the messages? But there was nothing in them, not really. Unless it was a code, her grandmother’s voice whispered. A code he’s afraid you’ll soon figure out.
Lenora backed away, her face paling. Sensing her mistress’ fear, Pepe leaped at the doctor, growling.
“Good girl.” Lenora whispered, throat tight.
But now that he was in her room, he acted uncertain. He pushed Lenora onto the bed, then stood above her, indecisive. Had he planned no further than getting in?
Pepe kept barking frantically. Lenora hoped that the next cabin would hear her and complain. She wished that she could reach her weapons. A good stab would show him that she was not a woman to be pushed around.
“Wait, what?” She had missed the doctor’s question.
“I said,” he sighed with a haunted look, “you were the first one to find Timothy, did you see or hear anyone else there?”
She shook her head, was he testing her?
“Did you see, I don’t know, footprints before that little mutt of yours ran all over? Or hear someone leaving, the doors go to different parts of the ship.”
Lenora pushed herself up to a sitting position, since it seemed he wasn’t going to ravish her after all. But she fisted her hands, ready to defend herself just in case.
“I saw nothing but that poor man with his brains all over the floor, and Pepe covered in blood. And I am quite aware that the door to the bridge leads to the bridge and the door to the stairs leads to the hold and the engines.”
The doctor paled and sat beside her on the bed. His hands shook as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to mop his dry eyes.
This is the strangest kidnapping I’ve ever been involved in. I do hope he doesn’t start crying on me, I have already had two blouses quite ruined today.
She cautiously patted his knee whispering “There, there.” She felt quite confused by his actions.
After a long moment, Lenora got up and quickly tossed a towel on Pepe’s latest small puddle. Pepe jumped into her arms wriggling with delight and licking her nose. It was very difficult to maintain her dignity, so she set Pepe on the floor again.
“Well, if that is all you came to ask?” She inched toward the door, waiting for him to stop her.
The doctor looked at her, eyes swimming. Oh no, you don’t, she thought as she quickly opened the door to usher him out.
He drew a shaking breath, then stood and patted his clothing straight. “It’s just that, well, I’ve heard your name in certain circles, and if you were thinking of looking into Timothy’s death….”
He drew a deep shuddering breath and tried to speak without his voice breaking. “We were…special friends.” He struggled not to dissolve in tears.
Lenore stared at him, flabbergasted. “Oh, my.”
The captain stood at the very front of the ship, where he could see the ground slowly unrolling ahead of them, and watch the ship’s shadow lead them across the fields. One hand rubbed absently at the blood on his cuff.
What a mess. And now that interfering bit of muslin had possession of half of the private messages. He pulled two curls of paper from his pocket, one was the message from his superior, the other proved that damnable busybody right. It was a message from Sir John A. himself, bidding her hurry to Ottawa, there were whispers of a bombing plot against him.
Now what should he do? Pretend to have found it after making such a ridicule of her? No, his pride would never allow it.
He raised his hand and sent both papers fluttering in the wind.
The engineer strode onto the deck, nodding a greeting but politely stared at nothing waiting for the captain to acknowledge him.
The engineer shuffled his feet. When he cleared his throat for the third time, the captain could take it no longer.
“Blast it, man! What do you want?”
“I’m a wee concerned about the Lady, sir. Finely bred as she is, the shock could be….” He wound down under the captain’s glare.
“I’ve already thought of that. The doctor is with her now.”
The engineer nodded, but still stood there, cap in hand.
“What else is bothering you?” The captain felt his anger grow. He knew it was inappropriate, it might reveal his state of mind too clearly, but couldn’t calm himself. Everything was falling apart.
“Well, sir. I have to reassure you that I had nothing to do with it, I just happened to notice it as I went to my luncheon.”
“What?” Perhaps anger was an appropriate response to this imbecile.
“The blood, sir. There’s blood on the wall near the engines.”
The captain was silent until the engineer replaced his cap and left.
James Patrick silently pointed out the bloody smear beside the door. “I swear to you, sir. This was not here when I was called to the radio room.”
“Could the lads have left it here after taking the body to the infirmary?”
James shook his head, “That’s t’other way at the deck stairs. It’s far more to’ards the bow.” His accent grew thicker with his distress.
A step behind them caused both to jump and turn. They were shocked to see the Contessa approaching. James immediately doffed his cap and bowed low, fingers almost scraping the ground, which drew a most becoming rose to the lady’s cheeks.
The captain just stared at her before bellowing, “What the blazes are you doing here? This area is off limits to passengers!”
James looked shocked at the outburst, but the Contessa simply put Pepe down and stared levelly at the blustering captain.
“Well, that is understandable. Dangerous things these great engines can be.” She looked past both men to the wall as the captain moved to hide it from her view. “Fortunately for you Captain Lewis, I am no ordinary passenger.”
Through gritted teeth, the captain ground out a rude response at which Lenora pursed her lips.
“What I mean to say Mister Lewis, is that I am the owner of this steamship, as my second husband was Hector Williams, the sole owner of Williams Steam Air and Sea.”
As the captain paled, she smiled coldly. “That makes me the sole owner of the whole company now, doesn’t it?”
The only sound in the hall was the captain’s ragged breathing and James’ cap hitting the floor as it slipped from nerveless fingers. This was followed by Pepe sniffing the cap ecstatically.
A few minutes later, Lenora was being shown the engines and James was puffed up with pride as she admired the shiny kettles and huge paddles rotating above their heads. The captain had stomped away without a word after her surprising news.
“I think you deserve a raise, Mister Patrick. Never have I seen such a clean and efficiently stocked engine room. Why I declare you could serve me dinner on this floor.” She was admiring the polished brass and did not see the tips of his ears turn red at her words.
She moved away to look at the gages on a particularly hot machine. Behind her, Patrick took a deep breath and opened his mouth to address her.
But she spun on one foot like a giddy girl and looked up at him through the curls of her bangs. “I do not know this machine, but it smells strongly of oil, not coal. How fascinating.”
James leapt to her side, snatching her hand in mid-air as she reached to tap the shiny brass plate with the words “Queen Elizabeth OBSR” on it.
“Careful there, mi’lady, that’s the rightly named oil-burning steam reheater.” He noticed that he was still holding her hand and looked nervously at Lenora’s face to see if he’d offended her. That she was smiling up at him unn
erved him more than a scowl would have. He didn’t let go of her hand though.
“This makes the steam hotter, yes? I can definitely feel the heat. She smiled coyly, stepping closer and robbing him of all sense.
“I call her Big Bessie! And she’s definitely steamier than most steam,” he stammered, now quite red about the ears.
Her grandmother’s voice urged caution and Lenora lost her nerve. This man was delightful, but having had three husbands die in suspicious circumstances…well, she just couldn’t risk her heart again.
3
Captain Lewis stared at the small wooden box in his hand. It had been sitting, apparently harmless, on a stack of larger boxes in the extreme back, directly under the engine room.
His own name was on it, but he’d never seen it before.
Gently lifting the box closer, he lowered his head to listen, there was no sound. Not a clockwork bomb then.
He looked around the hold, had he heard a step? He seemed to be alone. He turned back to the box. There was nothing strange about it, except everything was strange about it.
Was it part of the strange shipment he was being paid so much to haul? He glared around him at the piles of crates where there should be nothing but air. The engines were heavy enough that this end of the airship was usually just dead space.
The extra weight of all these crates meant that they were flying lower and rougher than they should.
And that reminded him of that damnable busybody, the Contessa.
The captain wiped sweat from his forehead with a shaky hand. He’d opened the box in the privacy of his office, and that was a good thing as his strangled cry and sudden pallor would have worried the crew.
The last thing he needed was well-intentioned idiots questioning him. How would he explain the crates? They’d already noticed how sluggish the ship was.
And how would he ever explain the timer and fuse he’d found in the small box now hidden in his desk? He could hardly explain it to himself. Where had it come from? He’d overseen the stacking of the crates and it hadn’t been there when they left Rupert’s Land Station.
What if the heat in that hold had started a fire? With a fuse so close by…no, he wouldn’t think of it. The result was too horrible to conceive. But he had instantly understood what could have happened. That was one reason he was keeping the small box up here, far away from the crates in the hold.
A knock on his door nearly made him cry out in surprise.
Get hold of yourself, act like a captain.
He called out for the crewman to enter and his first mate peered through the door.
“You all right, Sir? You seemed a bit overset on your way through the bridge. Is everything proper with engines?”
“The engines are fine.”
“And the murder, sir?” He whispered hoarsely, “Any word on the killer yet?”
“I’m working on it, dismissed.”
The man nodded uncertainly and backed out, closing the door behind him.
First the radio operator got too nosy and now his first mate was asking questions. Ones he couldn’t answer. He opened the desk and touched the box’s lid, then shook his head and slammed the door closed.
He needed to know what was going on with that shipment, and he wouldn’t be able to send a cable until their stop at Quebec City. Even then, he’d have to do it himself.
Could he wait another two days? He’d have to.
Steamy was definitely the word.
Lenora was pressed up against the edge of the small balcony above the engine room, the wind whipping her curls while James’ lips drove her into a frenzy. Warm and soft against her throat, she longed to throw decorum, and her skirts, to the wind.
Just as James’ fingers found the row of tiny buttons on her blouse, she heard a strange noise—as if someone had cleared their throat.
Pushing her erstwhile suitor away, Lenora was horrified to see her maid, Sarah, standing only a few feet away, holding Pepe in her arms. Faces red, Lenora and James tried to look as if they had been sightseeing out the balcony windows.
After a tense moment, Sarah, in a voice quivering with laughter quietly informed Lenora that the crew was searching the ship for suspicious passengers.
“Well, that is all well and good, but why are you here?” Lenora’s belly ached with the combination of yearning and humiliation.
“Why are you spying on me?” She drew herself up, fully prepared to unleash her temper on the impertinent girl, when James slipped his hand to touch the small of her back.
“There now, lovely girl, no doubt she just heard a noise up here. But she saw naught else but you taking the breeze.” His voice was soft and warm, but edged in steel.
The girl’s laughter faded away and a bleak look replaced it. “Ma’am, I don’t care what Timmie was, I loved him. The doctor,” she made a face as she said his name, “says that you’re a regular British dick. I want you to find whoever killed my man.”
Lenora looked surprised. “After you caught him…”
“Yes, I don’t care that he cheated or with whom, Timmie was the light of my life. I’ll make you a deal: you find my man’s killer and I’ll forget you were ever here.”
“That’s blackmail.” Lenora’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “It would be so much more pleasant if you merely asked. I’d be happy to oblige such a request, as I too care to find the killer.”
“You would do that for me?” A smile broke out on her face. “My word, you are a true Lady, mi’lady. I’m so sorry for my words, I would never tell, I swear.”
Lenora grimaced, there was no help for it now, she couldn’t turn down that tear-stained face, tremulous with hope.
“There, there.” She sighed.
So the three of them went to investigate the blood smear by the engine room door.
“Where does this door lead?” Lenora picked Pepe up to keep her from racing down the stairs ahead of them. As she bent forward, she casually showed a flash of skin where she had forgotten to redo the buttons James had opened.
“Oh, well, Lady, um Contessa, er….”
“Where does it go, dear?” Lenora smiled at his flustered words, she still had it—at her age!
He cleared his throat and spoke with much more of his old swagger, “To the cold rooms, mi’lady.” He opened the door and they started carefully down the dimly lit stairs.
“I remember now.” Lenora was a touch puzzled. Her company’s designs had an open space to compensate for the weight of the engines and fans and to act as a place to cool the great coal burners so they didn’t accidentally set fire to the wooden infrastructure. That had happened to an older model when she and her dear Hector were first married. What a tragic day that was. So few survived the fiery crash. The only relief in all the horror was that it had crashed in a farmer’s field, not a town.
She was so distracted by her thoughts that she ran into James’ back when he stopped abruptly and nearly sent both of them falling down the stairs.
“Easy there, love.” He sounded as distracted as she had been. He was staring around the turn in the stairs.
“What is it? Why did you stop?” Lenora hissed in his ear as Sarah’s hand touched her shoulder, startling a small squeak out of her.
“The light’s off. Now why would the lights be off? They’re supposed a’ be left on a’ all times.” His accent thickened again.
James fumbled ahead, hand out looking for the cord to turn the light back on. But when he pulled it, it did nothing but click.
“Drat it all, the bulb’s died on us.” Lenora, in a very matter-of-fact manner, pulled her parasol handle from the bunched fabric, revealing a short blade.
“Let me take the front then, James, I’ve the eyes of a cat in the dark.” He stared at the dim light reflecting from the well-honed edge of her knife and merely nodded, helping her to pass him on the narrow stairs without tripping.
Her nose wrinkled, something smelled rank in here. The only sources of light were a small red lamp set at
op a large icebox against the far wall and the light from the burner room behind the stairs. The rest of the room was shadows and strange shapes in the half-light.
She could hear the huge coal burners roaring behind her, directly under the engine room. But the room was stuffy when it should have been chilly.
“Where is the bin of ice that should surround each burner? Why is it so hot down here?”
“I don’t know. They should be here. We refilled at Rupert’s Land. Shouldn’t need to be topped off until Quebec.” She could hear him scratch his short beard in confusion. “It’s bleeding dangerous to have it this hot in here and us two full days from port.”
“Language, please, James.” But Lenora agreed with him. The tubs should be almost full.
Sarah squealed as a rat ran over her feet. She looked imploringly at Lenora as Pepe chased after it gleefully.
“Mayhap, I should guard the door, mi’lady? I’m not knowing about the burners and I don’t want to be eaten by rats.”
“Chin up, my dear. They’ll not eat you while you’re alive. Just keep moving.” Behind Lenora was now the distinct sound of Sarah flapping her arms about to ward off the rats.
They crept forward, careful of the masked shapes of boxes and tarps.
“I don’t understand why there’s a hold here, it should be left empty.” Lenora carefully peeled back the edge of a tarp and peered at the name writ large on the top of a wooden crate. It was just the ship’s name, “WSAS Mathilda.”
Lenora thought for a moment then started pulling tarps off of other stacks.
“Sarah, be a dear and go find me a lantern, preferably electric. I don’t think I trust a candle down here.”
“Alone?” Sarah squeaked, then quailed under the weight of Lenora’s raised eyebrow and scuttled off.
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