34 - The Queen's Jewels

by Fletcher, Jessica

  “No, I mean serious mistakes, becoming involved with the wrong people and for the wrong reasons.”

  Her comment was both interesting and provocative. George Sutherland had told me that she’d become a “party girl” after her modeling career had ended, using her natural beauty to attract wealthy older men. Was that was what she was referring to, that unsavory aspect of her life? Was Kim Chin-Hwa one of those “wrong people”?

  I didn’t have to encourage her to continue.

  “I feel terrible for Kim,” she said, “the horrible way he died.”

  “How did you happen to find him?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind. It was just too horrible.” She shivered again. “Sometimes I wonder if there is a God.”

  “Why do you say that, Betty? Surely no God would want to see anyone brutally murdered.”

  She nibbled on a pastry and put it down. “It’s just that—it’s just that he wasn’t the nicest of men.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “He was Walter Yang’s partner. But you knew that.”

  “Yes, of course. He spoke openly about the relationship at the dinner party.”

  “They weren’t really friends. Kim lied. He was planning to end their business relationship before Walter died.”

  “I wasn’t aware of that. Yet, it’s my understanding that Kim might have been the beneficiary of the insurance on the Heart of India.”

  She exhibited a sardonic smile. “He was expecting a big windfall. It softened the ‘blow of losing Walter.’”

  “But you say he was going to end the partnership.”

  “When Walter conveniently died.”

  “I’m sorry, Betty. I’m not following.”

  She said nothing, nor did she have to. I decided to be direct. “Are you saying that Kim killed his partner?”

  I wasn’t sure whether the crying that ensued was legitimate or not. “It’s terrible for me to say such a thing,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “Not if it’s true,” I said. I waited a decent interval before adding, “Is it?”

  She didn’t look at me as she said, “I am afraid it is, Jessica.” She used a lace-trimmed handkerchief to dab her cheeks. I don’t know why it occurred to me, but I realized I hadn’t seen a woman use a handkerchief in a long time. I carry packets of tissues. Most of my handkerchiefs were gifts from students or more likely their mothers. I had them carefully folded away in my bureau drawer with scented sachets. I should make an effort to use them, I thought, watching Betty deftly wipe under her eyes without disturbing her flawless makeup. She was a very studied young woman; every part of her dress and demeanor had been thought out. I wondered how much of her story followed the same pattern.

  “Are you sure Kim killed Yang?” I said.

  “I am,” she replied. “I don’t mean to shock you.”

  “You’re not shocking me, Betty. Are you also saying that Kim stole the Heart of India from Mr. Yang?”

  She’d sat there with her head hung low, avoiding direct eye contact. Now she looked up and shrugged. “What other answer could there be?”

  I let her accusation sink in as I poured more tea.

  “I’m sorry, Jessica,” she said.

  I waved away her apology. “Can you prove it?” I asked.

  “Prove it? No. I only know that Kim hated Yang, hated him for a long time. He accused Walter of stealing funds from the partnership to support his political cronies, a bunch of thugs. It became very nasty after a while. I heard Kim threaten to kill Walter more than once, but I never thought he’d really do it till it happened. I’ve been so afraid ever since. I knew something terrible would happen.” Tears rose in her eyes again, but she blinked them back.

  I thought back to our first meeting at Tom Craig’s. Had she seemed nervous or uncomfortable in Kim’s presence? If she had been afraid, she’d hidden her emotions well. The only time I hadn’t seen her perfectly composed was when she left Kim’s stateroom in a fury or when she barked at his bodyguard at dinner one night. Apparently anger and annoyance were emotions she felt free to exhibit. But here was a new Betty, morose and vulnerable. Was she genuine? She had been a high-fashion model. Successful models need to be able to express myriad emotions. Was this just a very good actress before me?

  “What about the diamond?” I asked. “Did Kim bring it on board with him?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I never saw it, although he talked about it.”

  “Talked about having it?”

  “No. But he was jealous of Walter for having bought it.”

  I sat back and rubbed my forehead. The last thing I’d expected was this accusation from her. Had she said the same thing to Haggerty and the staff captain during their questioning of her? I doubted it. If she had, Haggerty would certainly have filled me in before asking me to accompany her to her stateroom.

  I also thought about Kim Chin-Hwa. He was a small man with delicate features and almost feminine hands. George had said that Yang was strangled and beaten. By Kim Chin-Hwa? Impossible! Which didn’t mean, of course, that he hadn’t enlisted others to do his killing for him. George had said as much when we’d met for breakfast in London.

  Naturally I also wondered why Betty had chosen to tell me of her suspicions. Did she expect me to pass along the information to Haggerty and the ship’s security staff?

  “You were just with officials investigating Kim’s murder,” I said. “Did you tell them about your suspicions regarding Yang’s death?”

  “No,” she replied. “It doesn’t have anything to do with this—does it?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, “but those charged with investigating what happened to Kim certainly should be made aware.”

  “You can do that if you wish, Jessica.”

  “I think it would be more appropriate coming from you.”

  I knew that I would relay the information, of course, at the first possible moment. But it occurred to me that she’d accused Kim of murder only after he’d died. He was no longer able to defend himself against such a scurrilous charge. George Sutherland had questioned Betty following Yang’s murder and she hadn’t accused Kim of anything. Was it because he was still alive at that juncture? Had she really been afraid to come forward, or had she deliberately waited until he was dead to point a finger at him?

  All of which led to yet another question, the most important one of all: Had Betty LeClair murdered Kim Chin-Hwa?

  “I’m afraid I am tired now, Jessica,” she said, standing and stretching. “Would you mind terribly if I went to bed?”

  “Of course not,” I said. “Frankly, the thought of getting into bed is appealing to me, too. I assume that you won’t be coming to the dining room for meals.”

  “Mr. Haggerty wants me to take my meals in the cabin.”

  “That’s good advice. Good night, Betty. I’ll check in on you in the morning.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Fourth Day at Sea

  As fatigued as I was after returning from Betty’s suite, I had trouble falling asleep. Our conversation had taken a dramatic turn from what I’d expected and had left me with a brain that was active in every lobe, firecrackers going off one after the other. The harder I tried to shut it down, the worse it became, and it wasn’t until the sky was lightening that sleep finally put a stop to it.

  My rest didn’t last long, however. The phone rang, jarring me awake at what seemed to my exhausted body to be only moments later.

  “Were you sleeping?” Haggerty asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Sorry about that. How did it go last night with Ms. LeClair?”

  “How did it go? It went—why don’t we talk about it over breakfast. Give me an hour?”

  “Okay. They’ll still be serving then. What about your buddy Stanton, or whatever his name is?”

  “I haven’t heard from him.”

  “Give him a call and tell him to join us for breakfast.”

  “I’ll
call and ask if he wants to do that.”

  “Whatever you say, Jessica.”

  After showering and dressing, I put on a lightweight jacket with a hood and took a few minutes to sit on my balcony before heading for breakfast. I was still tired; I could have used a few more hours of sleep. I was also feeling out of sorts. The crossing on this lovely ship had turned into a stressful experience, becoming more so every day.

  The weather was superb, a crystal clear blue sky, with abundant sunshine and a temperate breeze. The ship continued its relentless journey through the Atlantic, a luxurious and technological marvel plying the waters for six days between England and New York, where wind-powered schooners once took weeks, if not months. I looked out over the vast stretch of ocean and thought of those who’d crossed it centuries ago, brave men and women without the benefit of today’s technological marvels—sonar, radar, positioning devices, communications satellites, and all the other equipment that makes crossing oceans routine and safe. No matter where we were at that moment, I could be in touch with anyone in the world by picking up my cabin telephone, or logging on to a computer to send an e-mail. That train of thought led me to realize that I hadn’t checked my e-mail since leaving Southampton, nor had I spoken with anyone ashore.

  I returned into my cabin, picked up the phone, and placed a call through the ship’s operator to George Sutherland’s cell phone. I had no idea where he was at that moment but hoped that he’d be available to take the call. He was.

  “George. It’s Jessica.”

  “I was hoping to hear from you,” he said. “It was on my agenda to try you later today.”

  “There’s been a murder.”

  “So I’ve been informed. That fellow Kim. The Yard received the news from MI6. They have an agent on the ship.”

  “His name is Michael Haggerty. I knew he was going to be aboard.”

  “Oh? You never said anything.”

  “We go back a long way.” I explained how I knew Haggerty, and went on to tell George about Dennis Stanton and his unexpected appearance on the Queen Mary 2.

  “It looks as though you’re up to your lovely neck in murder—again.”

  “You sound like Seth Hazlitt.”

  “Just a statement of facts, Jessica.”

  “Unfortunately that’s true,” I said. “Listen, George, I have a question for you. You said at breakfast that one of your female officers detected the aroma of heavy perfume in the room where Mr. Yang was murdered.”

  “That’s right, but it didn’t take a woman to come to that conclusion. I was aware of it, too.”

  “By any chance, have your lab people identified the maker of the perfume?”

  “As a matter of fact, they did. We captured an air sample, as well as a pillow on the sofa that seemed to be impregnated with the scent.”

  “Do you remember the name of it?” I asked.

  “I don’t have the result in front of me, but I can get it quickly. Care to hold or shall I get back to you?”

  I knew that ship-to-shore phone calls were expensive, but I wasn’t about to lose him. “I’ll hold,” I said, checking my watch. I was running late for breakfast with Haggerty, and hadn’t called Dennis Stanton.

  George came back on the line shortly. “I called the lab. It’s a French perfume called Shalini.” He spelled it for me. “Quite dear, as I’m told.”

  “Thank you, George.”

  “Why are you interested in that?”

  “Just trying to tie up loose ends. When you interviewed Betty LeClair, Kim’s mistress, were you aware of that same perfume scent?”

  “No, can’t say that I was. But now that I think of it, she was in the shower when we arrived. Had to sit on our hands for an hour until the lady presented herself. If she wore any scent, it was lavender soap. I take it you’ve been exposed to a stronger perfume on her person recently.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I understand that she was the one who discovered Kim’s body.”

  “That’s what she told the authorities on board.”

  “Makes her a prime suspect.”

  “Along with anyone and everyone who traveled with Kim, including his two burly bodyguards.”

  “And others, of course. The murderer doesn’t necessarily have to come from the passenger ranks. It could have been a crew member.”

  I recounted for him what Betty LeClair had told me.

  He laughed. “You’re quite the interrogator, Jessica. She never offered that scenario to me.”

  I proffered my thesis that she might have waited until Kim was dead before making such a charge.

  “A motive for having killed him,” he said.

  “I’m thinking the same thing.”

  George paused, and I could almost see his mind working. “What about the missing diamond?” he asked.

  “No sign of it. Ms. LeClair says she’s never seen it. There are a couple of interesting women on board, George, a Jennifer Kahn and Kiki Largent.”

  “Ah, that’s where Jennifer Kahn is,” he said, excitement evident in his voice.

  “So you’ve heard of her.”

  “Every law enforcement agency has heard of her, Jessica. She’s reputed to have been involved in jewelry thefts around the globe, although no one has ever come up with even a modicum of evidence to link her to those thefts. We’re working on the assumption that she was behind the three London jewelry store heists last week. We had her under surveillance, but she slipped away from us. I’ll say this for Jennifer Kahn. She’s as elusive and clever a thief as I’ve ever seen.”

  “Is she capable of murder, George?”

  “She’s never been linked to one. Are you thinking of Kim’s murder?”

  “And Walter Yang.”

  “You say that this Agent Haggerty is taking an active part in the investigation.”

  “Yes, and Dennis Stanton will undoubtedly play a role, but for a much different reason.”

  “All I can say, Jessica, is that I’m relieved that you have two good men there alongside you. You could be in jeopardy. I don’t like to think about that.”

  “I’ll be careful, George. Where are you now?” I asked.

  “At Scotland Yard.”

  “Can I reach you again later?”

  “Always on my trusty cell. You will take care?”

  “Yes, of course. Thanks for the information. I—I really miss seeing and talking to you at a time like this.”

  He laughed. “Only at a time like this?”

  “You know what I mean. I always miss seeing you, George, but murder raises the stakes.”

  When our conversation ended, I dialed Stanton’s cabin, got no answer, so set off for the Princess Grill. I wondered whether Jennifer and Kiki would be there. Had they become aware of Haggerty’s real name and true mission? If they hadn’t, they would soon enough, I was sure. Too many people knew now, and the Queen Mary’s rumor mill was every bit as active as Cabot Cove’s. It would be interesting to see their reaction when they did find out.

  Haggerty and Stanton were together at the table when I arrived.

  “Thought you’d forgotten us,” Haggerty said.

  “Sorry to be late,” I said, folding my jacket over the arm of the chair. “I was on the phone with a friend in London. Have any of the others been here?”

  “Flynn was finishing up breakfast when I arrived. He left.”

  “What about Jennifer and Kiki?”

  Haggerty and Stanton looked at each other before Haggerty said, “Haven’t seen them. Dennis—or rather ‘Bill’—here informs me that he’s the one who told you about Jennifer’s reputation as an international jewel thief.” He laughed. “Didn’t come as a big surprise when you told me, Jessica. I’d had my suspicions all along that something wasn’t quite right about her.”

  I was successful in suppressing a smile; the male ego at play, his need to save face.

  I related my conversation with Betty LeClair and her accusation that Kim Chin-Hwa might have murdered Walt
er Yang and stolen the Heart of India.

  “Why didn’t she tell us that when we questioned her?” Haggerty asked.

  “I don’t have an answer for that,” I said, “unless she felt having me pass it along would carry more weight with you.”

  “Why would it?” Haggerty asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said, “just a supposition. I can’t help but wonder whether she’s pointing a finger at him to deflect attention from herself.”

  Haggerty grunted.

  “Do Jennifer and Kiki know who you really are and why you’re on the ship?” I asked him.

  “I didn’t tell them,” he said.

  “They’re bound to find out,” I said.

  “I’m sure you’re right.”

  “But there’s no reason for them to learn the truth about you, Dennis,” I said.

  He nodded. “And I’m not ready to divulge that information just yet. Let’s keep it just amongst us, shall we?”

  “It gives you an edge with them,” I added.

  “Precisely.”

  “Well?” I said to Haggerty. “Now that you’re in charge of the investigation, what’s your next move?”

  “We’ve got Kim’s two bodyguards in temporary custody. I’m meeting them, separately of course, in an hour. Feel free to join me.”

  “I’d like to sit in on that,” Stanton said.

  Haggerty shook his head. “It’s better that you stay away from the investigation, at least officially. I think that—”

  The arrival of Jennifer and Kiki brought a halt to our conversation.

  “Late start?” Stanton said pleasantly. “They’re about to stop serving.”

  “I’d better put in my order,” I said. To Jennifer: “A late start for me, too.”

  If they’d been made aware of Haggerty and his true identity, they said or did nothing to indicate it. Haggerty excused himself without saying where he was going. When he was gone, Jennifer asked whether I had another lecture to give.

  “Tonight,” I said as the waiter came to the table and took our orders. “I’m glad you reminded me. I’d almost forgotten. It wouldn’t do to have an auditorium full of people and no speaker.”

  “Is there anything new about Mr. Kim?” Jennifer asked.