by P. C. James
“Stop being silly, Pauline. You can’t just invent people when you need them.”
Pauline laughed. “Says the woman with three grown children.”
“That’s different. We didn’t invent them to pin a murder on them.”
“True,” Pauline agreed, “and you’re right. I shall tell the others at tonight’s meeting that I’m happy to call it an accident and it will all be over.”
“Please do. Don’t prevaricate. Be clear. Have the captain announce it on the PA. Make this whole sad story over. I want to sleep soundly in my bed. I don’t want to be wedging my bedroom door shut for the rest of my life.”
Pauline smiled mischievously. “But Freddie, if you had given up believing in a murderer all those days ago, why are you still jamming your cabin door shut?”
“Because you make everything so plausible,” Freda replied, crossly. “I couldn’t bring myself to stop.”
“Then, for your sake, I will end this tonight. Now, come on, let’s get back to the group before they call out the coastguard and come looking for us.”
“Gladly,” Freda said, “anything to get away from these insects and this infernal heat.”
At the landing site, they found the others all waiting to be returned to the ship. They’d also returned to the comfort of the water’s edge, where the insects were less numerous, the heat tamed by a sea breeze.
“I’ve decided to swim,” Pauline said. “Are you coming?”
“I’m not sure we’ll get our costumes dry before we have to pack,” Freda said.
“We have plenty of time. If we don’t swim there’s nothing to do but go back to the boat,” Pauline took the snorkel tube and goggles the guide offered and turned back to the beach.
Freda sighed. “I’m coming,” she said, “but I’m staying near the beach. You can go out there with the others, if you wish,” she pointed to the bobbing heads about three hundred yards from shore, “but I’m not.”
Pauline didn’t reply. When they’d undressed down to their swimsuits, they waded into the sea, where small colorful fishes fled from their approach.
“At least it’s warm here,” Freda said.
“After our beach walk, I’d have preferred cooler,” Pauline replied, “but it’s pleasant to be out of the sun and the flies.”
As they swam, a turtle rose beside them, its glassy eye examining them intently.
“They don’t eat meat, do they?” Freda asked, anxiously.
“You’re the one who watches Jacques Cousteau, Freddie,” Pauline said. “You tell me.”
“I’m sure they don’t,” Freda said, “but maybe we should turn around in case.”
“I think it wants us to feed it,” Pauline said, as the turtle kept pace.
“I’m going in,” Freda said, heading back to the beach.
Pauline laughed. “You came to see the animals,” she mocked her sister.
When Freda waded out of the water, Pauline knew she wasn’t coming back. Placing the goggles over her face and gripping the snorkel tube between her teeth, Pauline swam on watching the turtle’s effortless underwater paddling as it swam alongside.
As she approached a rocky reef, the sea life grew bigger. Small colorful fish gave way to larger even more brightly colored ones. A small ray flapped lazily along the sandy bottom below, when her shadow, and that of her turtle companion, passed over it. Cruising along the reef, she could see waving sea weeds and, she suspected, the lures of predators. As she was too big for any of them to consider lunch, they were of interest rather than fear. Her companion, however, saw the weeds as lunch and bit off pieces as they continued their journey. Pauline began to wonder if she was going to have to take the turtle home with her. It was like a stray cat or dog following her.
A small shark slithered through the water ahead of her. While she knew it wasn’t dangerous, she felt it was a reminder there were things farther out that were dangerous. She waved goodbye to her turtle friend, hoping it understood this signal, and turned back toward the beach. For a moment, she thought it was going to follow. Then, with a graceful flick of its flippers, it set out toward the sea. Pauline felt she’d been abandoned.
“I wanted to let the sun dry my costume before I put my clothes back on,” Freda said, when Pauline joined her on the beach.
Pauline nodded. “A few minutes in this sun will do that for us,” she said.
“I’m dry already.” Freda said, shaking the sand out of her Polo shirt and pulling it over her head.
“I loved the giant tortoises,” Pauline remarked, “but I swear they didn’t even know we were there. That turtle is now my favorite. I know it sounds crazy,” she continued, “but I felt connected to it in a way I haven’t with any of the other creatures here.”
“You’re imagining things,” Freda said.
“I expect you’re right,” Pauline replied, placing her sun hat over her face to have a moment’s respite from the sun.
“We saw lots more interesting things this morning.”
“But they didn’t walk a little way with me through this vale of tears, Freddie. That’s the thing.”
Freda shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I think you need to lie down in a dark cabin with a cold compress on your head before you go any more nuts,” she said.
“Then let’s go back to the ship and eat first. I’ll carry my clothes and change on board.”
To Pauline, the evening briefing with Ferguson, Hidalgo and Somerville was equally crushing. There was no new information from the mainland and when Pauline shared what Freda had learned from Arvin, there was a general almost audible sigh of relief.
“I think we’ve done all we need to do to satisfy the company, Miss Riddell,” Captain Ferguson said.
“I agree,” Somerville added. “There never was much doubt it was an accident, though we don’t know the exact course of events that led to it, but Arvin Weiss was the only remaining candidate for murderer.”
As this was what she’d expected to hear when she’d told them, Pauline wasn’t surprised by their eagerness to wrap this up.
“The suspects we had are none of them truly cleared, gentlemen, and I can’t see any plausible chain of events that would have led Jose to fall backwards over that gate so I can’t altogether give this up,” Pauline said, then throwing her promise to Freda overboard, continued, “I’d like us to give Señor Hidalgo and the police one more day to find something new and for us to reconsider everything we’ve heard before we finally call it a day.”
They didn’t groan out loud, Pauline was pleased to note, but she was sure they all did inwardly.
“Miss Riddell,” Hidalgo’s voice was always strange over the radio, “the police will not be investigating further. They have made that very clear to me. You can expect no new evidence from here.”
Pauline suspected Hidalgo had heard enough and was making this story up but she couldn’t blame him or any of them. It really was a waste of everyone’s time. Something happened to Jose but what that was wouldn’t come out of this investigation.
“And we’ve gone over this every night for a week now, Miss Riddell,” Somerville said. “The investigation is over. There’s no compelling evidence that supports your theory and the evidence that you’ve highlighted has now been thoroughly investigated and, if not discredited, at least found not to be damning of anyone. I don’t want to waste any more of my, or anyone else’s time on it. Captain?”
“I agree, Detective. I’m sorry, Miss Riddell. Knowing of your expertise, your initial belief of murder made me persuade the company to initiate this investigation. Now, however, I don’t see any need to take this further. Do you?”
Pauline hesitated. Then she said, “Very well. I hope you will announce this to the crew and passengers, Captain, for I know many people are frightened at the thought of a murderer on board. You will set many minds at rest if you do that.”
“Certainly, I’ll do that. I know the crew are anxious to hear the all clear as well. Now it is wrapped up,
we need to discuss your fee, Miss Riddell.”
“There will be no charge, Captain. I haven’t explained either the accident or the violent death, so you and the company owe me nothing.”
Captain Ferguson appeared to be about to argue but Pauline said no again and that was the end of it. The end of the official case and the detecting team but not the end of Pauline’s whirlwind of thoughts.
17
At Sea
After the briefing ended, Pauline headed to the ship’s small ecumenical chapel. She pushed open the door and stopped when she saw the priest inside. She’d hoped the room would be empty.
“Come in,” the priest said, “I’m just tidying up. I’ll be gone in a moment.”
Pauline stepped inside and waited.
“Or did you want to speak to someone?” the priest asked.
“Only God,” Pauline said. “I have a problem I’d like to discuss with him.”
“Well, I’m just next door if you do want to talk,” the man said. He left the chapel and Pauline took a seat near the front. The quiet was a relief after the dining and lounge areas and the general background noise of people and machinery elsewhere on the ship.
She sat for some time gazing at the plain altar and cross, that the priest had been preparing for the evening service, before lifting a thin book of prayers from the pouch of the seat in front of her. She opened it and slowly scanned the pages, hoping to find one that would give insight into the problem she was wrestling with. Because it was a book designed to meet the common elements of all the Christian faiths, none seemed to quite fit. She couldn’t decide if that meant what she was looking for was in the sterner parts of the Old Testament or that what she was contemplating was just plain wrong. She closed the book and replaced it. Deciding not to wait and attend the evening service, Pauline rose, crossed herself, something she’d started doing all those years ago at the High Anglican church she’d attended with the Bertrams, and quickly left the chapel.
Back in the lounge, Freda was so involved in the card games and conversation, Pauline suspected she may not have even been missed. The moment she sat, Maria arrived to take her order.
“Good evening, Miss Riddell. Your usual English Breakfast tea and a pastry?”
“Yes, please, Maria. What pastries do we have tonight?”
“Our usual selection, Miss Riddell. I don’t think there’s anything new.”
“Nothing new in pastries, perhaps,” Pauline said, “but for me, everything seems new today. I’m sorry to say.”
“I too have found new isn’t always better in life,” Maria said.
“Perhaps you could tell me about that,” Pauline said. “Later, after your shift is finished.”
“I think it will be too horrible for you,” Maria said. “Where you live, horrible things don’t often happen and you would be upset.”
“I’m more familiar with evil than you think, Maria, and your experience may help me decide what I must do. I’ve a decision to make and it gives me great pain.”
“Perhaps, tomorrow, Señorita. I work here late and then in the laundry.”
“Tomorrow, then,” Pauline said.
18
Santa Cruz Island, Cerro Dragon
Their final landing was a dry one, for which Pauline was grateful. Trying to get everything dry in the cabin before they left the ship at Guayaquil would have been practically impossible.
As if to send them home with a vivid memory, the day was hotter than ever, the land once again rocky and broken, and the vegetation desert-like. Cerro Dragon meant ‘hill of the dragons’, or in this case, iguanas. The hike took them up the hill with the iguanas scuttling off the path, where they’d been sunning themselves. Pauline found the land iguanas infinitely more attractive than their marine cousins they’d been seeing on the other islands. Their coloring, which kept them camouflaged amongst the dusty, rocky ground, was less offensive to her than the ugly dark greens and reds of the sea-going iguanas.
“I wish we could have gone back to the tortoises,” Freda said, as they puffed their way to the crown of the hill.
“Me too,” Pauline said. As they reached the summit and the view was before them, she added, “but the hike is worth it just for this view.”
“It’s nice,” Freda agreed, “but my vote would still be with the tortoises. I think we can almost see them from here.” She pointed to the hills farther down the coast.
Pauline nodded as she surveyed the land below them, where iguanas waddled between the short vegetation, nibbling the leaves. In places it looked like the ground was alive, there were so many.
“I was glad, relieved really, to hear the captain’s announcement this morning,” Freda said.
“I’m pleased you were pleased,” Pauline said. Iguanas that had been scared off when they reached this spot began returning to their resting places in the sun. Not only was their sandy-colored skin more attractive, Pauline thought, their faces were too. As they strained their heads up to the sun, they seemed to smile at the warmth it gave. It wasn’t quite the connection she’d felt with the turtle but it was close. Maybe she was beginning to appreciate these strange creatures just too late to enjoy them.
“You’re not happy with the result, are you?” Freda said, breaking into Pauline’s thoughts.
“I’m not but I’m happier with it this morning than I was when it was discussed at the briefing last night.”
“What changed?”
“Overnight, with the pressure off, my mind finally settled on the truth,” Pauline said.
“You don’t look or sound any happier, Polly. If this is you happier, I’d hate to see you depressed. You haven’t spoken a word all the way up the hill.”
“I know the truth and I don’t like it. We will talk to the culprit tonight and if what I hear confirms my fears, I’ve a terrible decision to make.”
“Who is it?”
Pauline smiled. “When we hear what they say, then we can decide. Until then, you’ll have to work it out for yourself.”
19
At Sea. Maria’s Story
“Why are we meeting Maria at this time of night?” Freda asked, as they made their way along the narrow corridor servicing the cabins.
“Because I want to speak to her privately,” Pauline said, “but not on my own.”
“Well, I hope you’re not going to tell her off or give her motherly advice,” Freda said, a little crossly. They were walking more quickly than she liked and she was bumping her sides on the walls and handrails, which was painful.
“Nothing like that,” Pauline said, as she opened the door to the outside deck where a stiff breeze fluttered her loose jacket. They climbed the steps up to the top deck and walked into the darkest, shadowy part.
“Hello, Maria,” Pauline said.
Maria was standing at the rail, looking down to the deck below. She turned and said, “Hello.”
“I’m sure you know why I asked you to meet me here,” Pauline said.
“Do I?”
Pauline smiled grimly. “I have said nothing because I believe you’re a good person who was driven beyond what was reasonable. Tell me what happened and why and, if I agree, it ends here tonight.”
Maria met her gaze steadily, assessing this speech and its implications.
“You wish me to take the blame for this accident?” she said.
“We both know it wasn’t an accident. What I want to know is, was it justice?”
Maria frowned. “Why should I trust you? You worked with that awful detective.”
Pauline said, “Let me tell you what I think happened. Then you can decide if you want to let me tell anyone else.” She waited to see Maria’s reaction. There was none.
“Very well,” Pauline said. “I’ll tell you what I’m going to tell the police when we dock tomorrow. You and your boyfriend, Jose, managed to get jobs on the ship. He told you it was so you could be together. You discovered it was actually to steal from the passengers and he expected you to help him
. You confronted Jose here at this spot. He was angry and you were frightened. There was a struggle, he fell. That frightened you even more and you have kept quiet since. The law may believe you, if you tell them it was an accident. Maybe you will escape jail.” She paused and watched Maria, seeing the rising anger, maybe panic, in her eyes. Pauline added, “Do they have the reduced charge of manslaughter in Ecuador or will it be murder with extenuating circumstances?”
“You know nothing!”
“I think I know more than you imagine, Maria, and, as I said, if you convince me I’m right, we dock tomorrow and nothing will be said by me.”
“All right. I’ll tell you and it’s nothing like you said.”
“I know that, but the police won’t.”
“He was a monster,” Maria cried. “He and others like him killed my parents and molested me – isn’t that what you called it? – but with sticks and guns. I can’t make love. I can’t have children. I have no chance of a normal life with anyone. He deserved to die for what he did.”
Pauline nodded. “It was to do with the wars, I believe.”
“The Shining Path, they called themselves. They are evil. There’s no ‘path’ and nothing about them is ‘shining’. God, Jesus and all the saints with the best will in their sacred beings could never forgive those creatures of darkness.”
“Are you still a Catholic?” Pauline asked.
Maria shook her head. “I have heard too many in the Church excuse these demons to trust a priest anymore.”
“God isn’t the Church, though,” Pauline said.
“The Church would have us believe otherwise,” Maria said. “I believed. I attended. But neither God nor his Church were there when these animals descended on our village. I cannot forgive either of them, any more than I can forgive the monsters who massacred everyone I knew and loved.”
Freda stepped forward and put her arm around Maria’s shoulders to steady her for she seemed likely to fall or jump to her death.