It's Murder, On a Galapagos Cruise: An Amateur Female Sleuth Historical Cozy Mystery (Miss Riddell Cozy Mysteries Book 2)

by P. C. James

  “Ah, Pedro, come in,” Ferguson said, when the young naturalist knocked and requested permission to enter. “Please take a seat. We have more questions to ask.”

  Pedro was barely settled before Somerville said, “How is it you failed to mention you and Jose both played on your school and village soccer teams and you must have met at some time?”

  Pedro was taken aback by this sudden attack by his inquisitors.

  “I didn’t mention playing on the local soccer teams because you didn’t ask me,” Pedro said. “I knew how it would look to you.”

  “It looks even worse now we’ve discovered it,” Ferguson said, “and know that you withheld this information.”

  “I didn’t know Jose before we arrived on this ship,” Pedro said, “but I did recognize him and him me when we arrived.”

  “We asked exactly that and you said you didn’t know him,” Pauline said. “That makes us very suspicious of you, as I’m sure you can appreciate.”

  “Of course,” Pedro said, “but I thought it best not to let you waste your time on this because it has nothing to do with his death. I was evasive, it’s true, but for good reasons. I didn’t kill him and the hate he harbored toward me wasn’t behind his death.”

  “Why did he dislike you?”

  “For the reasons I gave and because I was something of a sports star at school. Our soccer team went to the capital and won a trophy and he didn’t. These were the reasons he gave while trying to intimidate me. They are petty, childish things. Things we all harbor about something or someone in our past but eventually the rest of us grow out of it. He didn’t. I was just unlucky enough to run into him again and he was able to vent his resentment.”

  “You have no alibi for the time in question; the victim had a grudge against you; he’d already threatened you once. You can see how it looks,” Somerville said.

  “None of which condemns me,” Pedro said, suddenly sitting up and becoming very firm in his bearing. “I repeat, you are wasting your time on this wrong road. If you decide to take this further, I will produce a solid, clear alibi for the time in question. Until then, you must accept my word. You are wrong. Look elsewhere. Now, unless you have anything else to ask, I’m leading a hike this morning and will return to my work.”

  The three inquisitors were so taken aback by this transformation from evasive youth to stolid adult, they were stunned for a moment.

  “I have no more questions,” Pauline said.

  “I have many, but I’ll leave them for now,” Somerville growled.

  “You may go, Pedro,” Ferguson said, “but you and I need to talk later.”

  When the naturalist had left the room, Somerville said, “He did something.”

  Pauline said, “But not, I think, what we feared.”

  “You think he was with one of the passengers, Miss Riddell?” Ferguson asked.

  Pauline nodded. “Which is, I’m sure, against company policy and could have him fired. However, admitting it, if he has to, is better than being arrested on suspicion of causing someone’s death.”

  “He’s a fast worker then,” Somerville said. “We’d only just gotten onboard.”

  “Well,” Pauline said, “he’s a very attractive boy.”

  ‘But you like a more mature man, do you, Miss Riddell?”

  “I no longer give the matter any thought, Detective. Now, how do we proceed with our remaining suspects?”

  Alone in her cabin, and dressing automatically for the morning’s hike, Pauline stared out of the porthole and thought. Pedro had been the most likely of the obvious suspects, but his words had convinced her of his innocence. For him to make such a statement, with all that it entailed, said he really was innocent of murder. She would not demand he produce his alibi, nor would she encourage Somerville or Ferguson to do so either. Some things were best left unsaid and private.

  Where did that leave her? Squashed, is where she was – in the middle of the road and squished flat. She had been that sure it was Pedro. Her disappointment was intense. Her belief in herself unraveled and doubts, always crowding in, took possession of her mind.

  What was so odd about this case, and had been causing her much unease, was how much it resembled her first case. Then, as now, everyone was happy with the official verdict and only she saw a different answer. Like that first time, it was she, Pauline, pushing others to find a murderer that others thought didn’t exist. Since that time, most of the mysteries she’d solved had been her working with others as they reached the right conclusion, even if they hadn’t always agreed at the start who was the guilty party. They had all been working to establish the truth. This felt like her career had come full circle and, more than that, was drawing to a natural close.

  Was that the path her life was intended to follow in future? Was this fate, God even, giving her an opportunity to call an end to the strange ‘career’ she’d had? Maybe it was her subconscious. People nowadays were very hot on their subconscious. Was it telling her that a new country required a new start and a casting off of her old life?

  That was the bigger picture but what of the smaller, more immediate problem? If not Pedro, then Rod, Arvin or Señor X, the mystery suspect who she’d suggested earlier but who never appeared. X would certainly be one of the crew, but they all seemed to be just regular people.

  Hidalgo was still searching, of course, and something may appear but probably not before the ship docked back on the mainland. That only left the other two. The first, Rod, seemed hugely unlikely, whatever a real or imagined quarrel with Jose might suggest. That left the morose, sad Arvin. Poor man. Unable to shake off the monsters in his past, did he lash out and unwittingly cause Jose’s death? If he did, his own anguished spirit would haunt him until his dying day. It seemed unfair to burden him further.

  Wishing she’d kept to her original refusal to take part, Pauline sighed, left her cabin and knocked on Freda’s cabin door.

  13

  Floreana Island, Post Office Bay

  As they were leaving their rooms on the way to breakfast, they wished Maria, waiting in the corridor to start cleaning, a good morning. She smiled and replied with her usual happy smile.

  They were about to walk away when Freda said, “Maria, did you know Jose?”

  The beaming smile on Maria’s face disappeared at once. “He was a bad man,” she said.

  “Oh, did you know him?”

  Maria shook her head. “He tried it on with me first day here on this ship – that is how you say it?”

  “Yes, that’s what people say. Did he molest you?”

  “What is molest?” Maria asked, suspiciously.

  “Interfered with you,” Freda said.

  Maria nodded. Her white teeth bit her lower lip and her eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m sorry,” Freda said, “I didn’t know. It must have been horrible. Did you report what happened?”

  Maria shook her head.

  “You should, you know.”

  “He’s dead now,” Maria said. “The other men are good people. We don’t need the trouble it will bring.”

  “I see what you mean,” Freda said. “But how did you hope to keep him at bay throughout the whole voyage?”

  Maria’s expression hardened. “I meant to avoid him but now I don’t have to. Now, please excuse me, I must get on with my work.” She opened the nearest cabin door and stepped inside, closing the door quickly behind her.

  “I wish I hadn’t said anything now,” Freda said. ‘Poor Maria. How awful.”

  “You did the right thing,” Pauline said. “I’ll make a detective out of you before this case is over.”

  “It caused her so much distress. I bet she’s in there crying her eyes out.”

  “Probably but she has given me a new possible motive,” Pauline said.

  “You mean Maria killed him?” Freda asked incredulously.

  “Possibly, but more likely she told one or more of the male crew members and they decided to warn Jose off. I think
someone may have been too energetic with the warning.”

  “It would have to be one of the men who particularly liked Maria, I think,” Freda said.

  “Or someone in authority, or someone who thinks they have authority. There are many possibilities, but we need to find out who.”

  “That opens the field of suspects up considerably,” Freda said. “We can’t possibly do all of it in what’s left of the cruise.”

  “This line of enquiry will be simpler than looking for links to Jose’s past,” Pauline reminded her. “Everybody involved is still here on the ship.”

  “It also opens up another possible line of enquiry,” Freda said, slowly. “What if Maria wasn’t the only woman he molested?”

  Pauline grimaced. “We need to know who, among the women crew members, would be most likely confided in,” she said. “I’d hoped Nina, who we met that night, would tell me if there were any rumors among the female crew but she wouldn’t. We can’t interview all of the female crew, any more than we could interview all the men.”

  “How can one man have caused so much grief in so few days?” Freda said. “I’m beginning to think that, if he was killed, as you say, the killer did us all a favor.”

  “Now, Freda,” Pauline said. “You can’t think like that. Everyone deserves a fair hearing and a just outcome.”

  They boarded the tender for shore and prepared for another day of seeing wonders that, in Pauline’s eyes, weren’t very wondrous. She still wasn’t warming to this trip. If it wasn’t for Jose’s death, she’d have described the whole trip as ‘murder’.

  As they made their way down to the boat deck. Freda nudged Pauline. “Do you see who’s here,” she whispered.

  Pauline had also seen Betty, without her husband, at the same time Freda had. “I see,” she replied. “Why don’t you go and say hello while I gather up the items we’re supposed to take.” For today’s excursion, insect repellant was recommended as well as the obligatory hats and water.

  Freda nodded and went off to accost Betty while the coast was clear.

  Pauline gathered up extra bottles of water for them both and the snorkeling equipment they were to use if they decided to take part in the post-hike swimming. As she did so, she watched Freda make her way to Betty’s side, and also watched the steps down to the embarkation deck from the cabin decks above, in case Rod made a late appearance.

  He didn’t but it was only when they were boarding the tender that Freda signaled Pauline to join her.

  “Rod isn’t coming,” she said, as Pauline came closer, “so I’ve suggested we three keep each other company on the trail.”

  The three women joined the line and boarded the tender together.

  “Your husband is sitting this one out, Betty?” Pauline asked, as they wedged themselves onto the narrow seats. The tenders were the ship’s lifeboats and the thought of being crushed into one of these boats, perhaps for days before help arrived, made Pauline fervently hope their ship stayed afloat.

  “He says if he sees another effing iguana he won’t be responsible for his actions,” Betty said, sadly. “I fear he doesn’t appreciate the significance of all this. Really, he’s just obliging me being here. I was the one who wanted to come.”

  Freda grinned. “We have the same difficulty,” she said. “I’m fascinated; Pauline is keeping me company.”

  Pauline gave Freda a withering look but said to Betty, “It was good of Rod to do that, when he so clearly finds the experience tedious.”

  She tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice that she felt must be obvious and continued, “My limited experience of men is their only interest in wildlife is as meat or targets so it must be boring to see wildlife that are neither.”

  Betty nodded. “Exactly,” she said. “If he could have brought his gun, it would have been different. Though he says these creatures would make poor sport.”

  “They certainly would,” Freda said. “You can walk up and pet most of them.”

  The tender bumping against the dock, and being tied alongside, interrupted the conversation while the crew helped the visitors step off the boat onto the shore.

  Once ashore, Pauline took the opportunity of the group not yet being assembled to ask some sensible questions.

  “Did Rod tell you what he was arguing with Jose about? You must have wondered.”

  “People have been saying that he and Jose argued but Rod never mentioned it to me and when I asked, he said it wasn’t true. It was just people picking on him because he was Latin American.”

  “Well hearing he hadn’t quarreled with Jose would be a relief, I’m sure. It must have set your mind at rest.”

  “It did, does, though it makes me angry the way people point fingers if you aren’t part of the in-group.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Pauline said, laughing. “You can’t believe the things I’ve heard said about my spinsterhood over the years.”

  “I knew you would understand,” Betty said. “being single and never marrying, so I hear.”

  “We folks on the fringe have to stick together,” Pauline said, smiling. “I’m thinking of forming a union.”

  “I didn’t realize, until I met Rod, how difficult it can be to fit in with everyone sometimes.”

  “Does Rod feel it very badly?”

  Betty nodded. “Men are brutal to each other, aren’t they? If you’re one of them, you can answer back in the same fashion, but if you’re not you can’t and you get frustrated by not being able to take part or even defend yourself. That’s what Rod says anyhow.”

  Watching a different naturalist joining them, Pauline was relieved to see Pedro wasn’t to be their group’s guide and quietly said so to Freda.

  “Do you really still think Pedro had anything to do with it?” Freda asked, when they were moving off and they had some privacy.

  “I’ve no idea,” Pauline said. “I just feel it would be better if we weren’t alone with him until this mystery is cleared up.”

  “But he’s such a nice young man,” Freda said.

  “They wouldn’t have been hired if they weren’t nice people, Freddie,” Pauline said patiently, though she was growing exasperated at her sister’s constant Pollyanna view of people.

  “But still,” Freda said, “he’s not the sort. Just look at him. He’d be no match for Jose and he’d avoid him not fight him.”

  “What if he couldn’t avoid him? What if Jose backed him into a corner? What if Jose got in his face and Pedro pushed him away, only to see Jose topple over the rail to his death? What would a nice boy who avoids trouble do then?”

  “They would get help,” Freda said.

  “Some would, others, once they were sure they hadn’t been seen, would avoid trouble by getting themselves well away and saying nothing.”

  “Well, I don’t believe Pedro would be one of those,” Freda said.

  Fortunately for Pauline’s patience, the group had stopped to listen to the guide and they were now caught up to them. Further discussion of detection would have to wait.

  The hike took them through the still visible foundations of old buildings and roads to the ‘Post Office’, which was a barrel where letters had been deposited by sailors for other sailors to carry home and post. This service had begun in the 1790s, the guide told them, and still continues today, though the cards left now are written by visitors and taken home to post by other visitors.

  The group happily spent the next 30 minutes sifting through the many cards in the barrel, hoping to find one to carry home and post for a fellow countryman or woman. Freda found two that were addressed to people in England and took them both.

  Pauline was relieved to find all the Canadian ones gone by the time she was handed the bundles of cards remaining to be posted. Posting cards for people she didn’t know, to people she didn’t know, on top of the hours spent looking at empty nesting sites or indistinguishable birds wasn’t as enthralling as she’d hoped it might be. In her mind, Darwin’s famous finches all looked li
ke small brown or black birds that only a naturalist or birdwatcher could tell apart – and she was neither. Some days it was relief to return to the ship and the next meal. She could only hope Freda, whose ‘treat’ this was, was finding it all she hoped for.

  “I think everyone is taking a nap after this morning’s hike,” Freda said, back on the ship and looking around the almost empty lounge and coffee shop.

  “One of the pleasures of having older people as fellow passengers is the quiet times where you get the nicest parts of the ship to yourself.”

  “It also means we can talk without being overheard,” Freda said, checking to see the wait staff were well out of hearing.

  “We can do that in our cabins,” Pauline reminded her.

  “It’s not as nice as enjoying an afternoon tea and treat in this beautiful little teashop.”

  “True. Now, what did you learn about Rod from Betty. You had a good long chat when we were out there.”

  “Not a lot. She’s sure Rod didn’t hurt Jose but doesn’t know where he was at the time. I think Rod’s constant sulking is beginning to get her down though. He was supposed to be on today’s excursion and then at the last minute refused to go.”

  “That’s good news. If she gets angry enough she may tell us something revealing, instead of the loyal wife routine she’s been keeping up.”

  “That’s an awful thing to say, Polly.”

  “True but I’m more concerned with catching a murderer than being nice.”

  “What were you thinking of while you sent me off to grill Betty?”

  “I was thinking about the cut under Jose’s chin. I’d thought the cut was caused by a knife,” Pauline said, “but now I see alternatives everywhere. I saw it first with a ring like the one Betty was wearing last night at dinner. It had sharply cut stones. I thought a necklace such as that one over there,” she pointed to a woman just entering at the farther side of the lounge whose necklace had a large cross with sharply pointed ends, “or even something as mundane as the metal spring at the top of a clipboard.”