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

by P. C. James

  “I will never work for you again.”

  “Think of all the fun you’ll miss,” Pauline said.

  “It’s not very nice, doing this.”

  “We’re all different, I suppose,” Pauline said. “You find snooping on people not nice, I find it infinitely preferable to changing bedpans.”

  “You carry on then, Pauline. I think you’ll discover people really have had enough.”

  “Oh dear,” Pauline said, grimacing. “I’ve been reduced to ‘Pauline’ have I?”

  “Until you come to your senses,” Freda replied, smiling. “And if you don’t look out, you’ll be Miss Riddell!”

  Pauline laughed. She was still chuckling when she went in search of witnesses. Someone who would admit to being on the deck at the time of Jose’s death. She found Freda was right. In the past day, the passengers’ mood had changed. Many wouldn’t even speak to her and those that did communicate, didn’t tell her about their movements. Many were happy to tell her where her movements should take her. It seemed the mystery’s novelty had worn off.

  When they met for tea later that afternoon, Freda lost no time in asking, “Do you see what I mean now? People are tired of us endlessly badgering them with questions. They can’t be comfortable with me or you or even each other, while we’re trying to turn them into snitches.”

  “I do understand,” Pauline said. “But you must understand, I’ve been doing this for years. You develop a thick skin eventually.”

  “It’s all right for you. While you and Somerville are carousing with the captain, I’m in the lounge with the other folks on the outside and these past days I’ve been hearing a lot of opinions about this investigation and the detectives. That’s why I have to stop. I’m handing in my notice, Pauline.”

  Pauline nodded. “That’s wise, I think. They can’t take it out on me or Somerville because we were asked to investigate but you are in a strange position. For your own peace of mind, we should make it clear you’re no longer a part of this – and by your choice.”

  “I’ve already done that,” Freda said. “Everyone I talked to today, I told them I’m not taking part anymore. They were pleased to hear it. It means I can converse with them like a normal human being.”

  Pauline laughed. “I think you’ll need time to win their trust after the past week or so,” she said.

  Freda grinned. “You’re right,” she said, “but, Polly, I’ll never imagine your life of solving puzzles as being exciting and romantic again. I’m cured of that.”

  “Back to nursing it is, then?”

  Freda nodded. “Yes, I think so. A world where we want everyone to go home free from hurt is the life for me. Even if we can’t always make that happen.”

  Pauline was about to respond when officer Sanchez arrived at their table.

  “Miss Riddell,” he said, “the captain asks you to join him and Detective Somerville in his cabin right away. The chief engineer has agreed to talk to you all.”

  “I’ll meet you at dinner, Freddie,” Pauline said, with a wry expression. “You can continue talking to the passengers without asking a question while I’m away.”

  “It’s all very well for you to make jokes about it, Polly, but it isn’t funny.”

  Pauline didn’t reply. She followed Sanchez as he quickly led the way to the captain’s cabin, where Somerville, Ferguson and the chief engineer were sitting in ominous silence awaiting her arrival. The lack of conversation boded badly for their meeting, Pauline thought. Even men could usually manage some kind of small talk at times like this. She took the seat that was offered and waited for Ferguson to introduce her.

  Gregor Mikailovitch stared back at the three people opposite with a calm, steady gaze.

  “Gregor,” Captain Ferguson began, “I want to be make it clear to you, and my two detectives here, that you are invited to talk to us about your dealings, or lack of them, with the dead man. You are not accused of anything and you shouldn’t assume because we asked you here that you are.”

  Gregor nodded.

  Before Somerville could launch into his usual deluge of accusatory questions, Pauline said, “I second the captain’s statement. A question I have though is, we heard that Jose perhaps molested one of the female crew members. It’s possible there were others. Had you heard this?” A surge of triumphant pleasure swept through her when she saw Somerville’s surprised expression as he realized she’d learned something he hadn’t.

  Gregor only nodded in reply.

  “Can you explain more?”

  “I heard that one of the young women had been badly frightened by him. That’s all.”

  “Did you speak, or do you know of any of the male crew members who spoke, to the dead man about this?” Pauline continued, still hoping to have Gregor open up before Somerville shut him down.

  “Let’s cut to the chase here,” Somerville said. “Did you have a word with him and did that ‘word’ go too far? I mean, I can understand it if it did.”

  Pauline was annoyed by Somerville’s intervention, but she couldn’t help admiring how quickly he’d grasped the initiative on what was her evidence.

  “I don’t understand why you think I would kill a man because he’d made a clumsy approach to a woman,” Gregor said. His expression, which had been impassive until now was becoming frosty.

  Pauline stepped in. “We hear that you are something of a father-figure to the crew because of your seniority and your experience. Your wisdom, if you like.”

  “Do fathers kill their children if they make a mistake where you come from?”

  “Of course not, but accidents happen,” Somerville said.

  “Why would I even want to be involved? A foolish misunderstanding between young people isn’t unusual or dangerous.”

  “We have been led to believe it was more than just a misunderstanding,” Pauline said. “We heard the young woman was seriously molested.”

  “That isn’t what I heard,” Gregor said, “and as the young man isn’t here to defend himself I will continue to ask – why do you imagine any of this has anything to do with me?”

  “We hear you have strict beliefs about behavior and manage the technical crew with a firm hand,” Somerville said.

  “Ah, I see. Believing that the crew should behave properly at all times means I murder them if they don’t.”

  “Not at all,” Pauline said. “We don’t really know anyone has been murdered to be honest. We’re only asked to set the company’s directors’ minds at rest about this awful event.”

  Gregor didn’t reply, so Pauline continued, “We thought it possible, hearing of this serious incident you may have felt the need to confront the victim and things may have gotten out of hand.”

  “Let me put your mind at rest. I did speak to him about the incident. He maintained that his intentions were honorable but clumsy and the young woman was upset. These things have happened since time began. Indeed, don’t you English have a nursery rhyme about it? How does it go,” he paused, “Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie, kissed the girls and made them cry. Is that not right?”

  “Yes,” Pauline agreed, “that’s how it goes but we have been led to believe it was more than just a kiss.”

  “I imagine it was also,” Gregor said, “but without proof, there was no reason to do anything other than warn him. I saw no reason to descend to homicide.” Then added, with grim humor, “At least, not at this stage.”

  “Where did this talk take place?” Somerville demanded.

  Pauline sighed. The way he spoke really had the most annoying habit of setting people’s backs up. Gregor may not have felt like killing Jose but he was becoming seriously angry with Somerville.

  However, Gregor answered calmly enough. Only the martial glint in his eye suggested otherwise. “In my office, where else? These are not matters to be discussed in public.”

  “Are there witnesses?”

  “What is it about the words ‘not matters to be discussed in public’ leads you to suppose th
ere might be witnesses?”

  Somerville had the grace to redden at this rebuke but continued, “You do see how this looks to an outside observer though, don’t you?”

  “I think a rational outside observer would be more surprised if I hadn’t spoken to the young man after the incident or that I hadn’t done so privately.” Gregor’s answers were now bordering on outright sarcasm and Pauline felt it was time to wrap this up before it deteriorated further.

  “Is there anything you can tell us that might shed some light on what happened?”

  “I’ve thought about it, as I’m sure we all have, and no, not really. It isn’t against any rules for crew members to go out for fresh air, though it shouldn’t be on a passenger deck. No one I’ve spoken to can say why Jose was where he was. It would have meant another talking to, had he not gotten himself killed.”

  Seeing there was no further questions, Ferguson thanked the chief engineer and Gregor left the room. The detectives turned to Ferguson.

  “What do we know about your chief engineer, Captain?” Somerville asked.

  “We know a lot. He’s been with this ship longer than I have,” Ferguson said.

  Puzzled, Pauline asked, “How does an Eastern European seaman become a chief engineer on a western ship?”

  “He was training as a Marine Engineer at university in Poland, where he’s from. In 1956 he visited a schoolfriend who was at university in Budapest. They became embroiled in the uprising and, when the Russians stepped in to put it down, he and his friend fled to the West. Gregor finished his schooling in England and thought himself lucky because we still were the place to be for ships and shipbuilding then. It’s hard to believe that now.”

  Ferguson paused as the realization of the speed of decline and fall once again overtook him.

  He shook himself out of his reverie, and continued, “Anyway, he worked his way up the ladder, joining this ship as chief engineer when she was still sailing the Med. That was sometime in 1965, I think. Just before I arrived as a junior officer.”

  “Do you think he could have confronted Jose?” Somerville asked.

  “No. Absolutely not. He doesn’t suffer fools gladly,” Ferguson paused, and then said, “but he’s a good officer and he’s never had a bit of bother with his crew in the twenty years I’ve known him. He’s one of those men that people follow by example, rather than through fear.”

  “And you, Señor Hidalgo,” Pauline said, speaking louder for the microphone, “Have you anything on those three crew members, particularly the two without alibis?”

  “Nothing has come through yet,” Hidalgo said. “They are just ordinary people you know, and ordinary people don’t have long public records, criminal or otherwise: birth, school, marriage, children and death is about it really. There may be something different by the time we have our evening briefing.”

  “Then,” Ferguson said, “if there’s nothing else, I’ll bring this meeting to a close. Thank you everyone. We will meet again after dinner and let’s hope Señor Hidalgo has more for us then or tomorrow.”

  As they were preparing to leave, Pauline said, “Captain, would you ask Rod Chalmers to join us this evening. I think there’s something to be learned there.”

  “I’ll ask, Miss Riddell, but he’s a prickly sort of fellow. He may not come.”

  Pauline grinned. “Prickly is the right word for Mr. Chalmers and usually I would dismiss someone so obviously suspicious from my list of suspects. Only he is evasive about his movements at the time and no one has given him an alibi, except his wife, and she’s now admitted it wasn’t true.”

  “It shall be done, Miss Riddell,” Captain Ferguson said, “and we shall hope he’s in an accommodating mood.”

  “He can be mellow after dinner and drinks,” Somerville said, as Pauline and Somerville left Ferguson’s cabin together and headed back toward the lounge.

  Part way along the narrow corridor, Somerville stopped and, seeing he wanted to talk, Pauline did too.

  “Do you believe them, Gregor and the captain, I mean?”

  “Yes, I do, in the essentials.”

  “Ah, you aren’t one hundred percent sold either then?”

  “People always try to put their best foot forward. What are your reservations?” Pauline replied.

  “It’s too good to be true, I guess. Our chief engineer is a tough cookie and, from what I’ve heard, like a lot of Polish people, a staunch Catholic. He’ll have old-fashioned ideas about how to deal with sex squabbles, however much he chooses to pretend he’s okay with it.”

  “I’m a churchgoer myself, Detective, and I have old-fashioned ideas about such goings-on and yet I wouldn’t advocate hurting people for lapses, but I take your point. His response was strangely tepid for something so unacceptable to him as an officer and a Catholic.”

  “Miss Riddell, I have a confession. At the outset I was certain this was an accident and I thought your suggestion of murder out in left field. Over the past days, I’ve come to think your instinct was correct. However, just for the record, even though there are a number of possibilities to this death, I still think, in the end, we’ll find it was an accident.”

  “It’s good of you to say you now see what I saw, Detective, but don’t you find it compelling that this one man had so many things going against him? I doubt we’d find anyone else on this ship with a similar background of threats and horrors.”

  “I can’t entirely agree with you there, Miss Riddell. The crew are almost all from the nearby Central and South American countries and all of them have lived with violence throughout their lives. I suspect many, if not all, share a similar history. That’s even true of the passengers, who are mainly elderly people that have lived through Prohibition, the Depression, World War II, the Korean War, and so on. Take Arvin Weiss, for example.”

  “I’ve thought all that too,” Pauline agreed, “but Jose is very young for such a packed history.”

  “Once his parents were killed, the rest I feel follows almost naturally and doesn’t necessarily point to anything bad in him. I’m almost tempted to agree with Señor Hidalgo, suicide wouldn’t be beyond plausibility.”

  “Not implausible, I agree, but not likely in this case. He fell or was pushed backwards.”

  “I agree with you, not suicide, but I still feel not murder. Where does this leave us, do you think?”

  “We had four viable suspects, Pedro, Rod, Arvin, and Gregor, and Pedro looks out of it for now. That leaves three. In each case, however, the opportunity appears to be there, and they have no alibis. The means is there, even though Arvin is physically weak, but none of them have a strong motive. If this is murder, and I still think it is, the reason is something we haven’t discovered yet or it was something that rose quickly.”

  “I still favor Gregor,” Somerville said. “I’m going to dive deeper into his background and movements over the past days.”

  “And I have changed my order of suspicion and now favor Rod, with Arvin a close second,” Pauline said. “I’ve been researching Rod’s movements these past days and got a breakthrough today, when his wife lost patience with his tiresome moodiness.”

  As Pauline and Somerville joined him for the evening briefing, Captain Ferguson said, “Mr. Chalmers has agreed to speak to us. He’ll be here in ten minutes. I wanted us to have time to talk amongst ourselves before he arrived.”

  “And I’ve sent more information about the crewmen you asked about, Miss Riddell,” Hidalgo said.

  “I have it here,” Ferguson added, handing them each two loose pages. “It isn’t exciting I’m afraid.”

  They read and discussed the information and then what they wanted to hear from Rod Chalmers. This was still being discussed, when an officer showed Chalmers in.

  “Mr. Chalmers,” Captain Ferguson said, “Thank you for coming.” He gestured Rod to a seat. “Can I get you something to drink? You’re a tequila man, I think.”

  “Sure,” Rod said. “Free drinks are always welcome.” His short
laugh was brittle and had nothing of humor in it.

  Ferguson handed him his drink. “I want to make something very clear right from the start. This isn’t a police investigation and you are not being accused of anything. These two real-life detectives, in their own separate spheres, very kindly agreed to help the company confirm there was nothing sinister in the event that cost Jose Garcia his life. The police have ruled it an accident. You may have heard muttering about it being something more. We want to be sure.”

  Rod took a sip of his drink before saying, “What’s that to do with me?”

  “It seems,” Pauline said, “that you were in the vicinity of the incident around the time it happened. We would like you to tell us what you heard and saw that night.”

  “I told you last time you asked,” Rod said.

  “Last time we asked,” Somerville said, “you told us you weren’t near where it happened. We’ve since learned that isn’t true.”

  “I told you that because I heard, and saw, nothing but I knew you wouldn’t believe that. It seemed easier to say I wasn’t there.”

  “Look,” Somerville said, “what happened was probably an accident brought about by unfortunate circumstances. We don’t think anyone is going to be blamed for it.”

  “Then why bother?”

  “Because there will always be a cloud over the company, ship, and crew if there isn’t an understandable answer,” Ferguson said.

  “Whatever,” Rod said. “I still can’t help you.”

  “All we’re asking is, if you and he got into a confrontation that night and he stepped back, overbalanced on the rail and fell, well, that wouldn’t be murder. Just a horrible accident with no one to blame,” Somerville said.

  “You want me to confess to something I didn’t do so you can all feel good about yourselves?” Rod said. “If, as you say, all you need is someone to say they were there and it was an accident, why don’t you do it? If, as you say, no one will be blamed.”

  “I was in the Lounge with dozens of other people, as was Miss Riddell,” Somerville said. “You are one of the very few passengers who weren’t and you and Jose were seen arguing sometime earlier that afternoon.”