“Of course.” Nora pushed up from the table and said her goodbyes then hurried off to catch up with Aunt Julia who was actually heading in the opposite direction of the stairs.
Aunt Julia was already at the door to the maintenance area, her hand on the knob, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching her.
“Aunt Julia, do you really think it’s a good idea to go in there?” Nora looked over her own shoulder. No one was paying any attention.
“Of course it is.” Aunt Julia looked at her as if she wasn’t quite following along with the program. “Didn’t you see that two of our suspects went through this door? One could be the killer.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Nora whispered. “And we could be his next victims.”
Julia waved her free hand dismissively. “You’re such a worrywart. Who would want to hurt an old lady like me?” She opened the door and stepped through.
Nora followed her into a dimly lit corridor. She could hear the swoosh of the water, the steam in the furnace and smell oil.
Aunt Julia cocked her head. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Maybe they’ve already killed each other.”
Aunt Julia looked disappointed. “I hope not. Let’s go this way.”
She started off to their right and Nora followed. The hallway was so narrow there was hardly room to walk beside each other. Aunt Julia tried a few of the doors along the way—all locked.
Mercifully, the stifling hallway didn’t go on for long. After about a hundred feet it opened up to a small deck. Max Lawton leaned against a railing, a cigar in his mouth, smoke drifting out into the air.
“Are you ladies lost?” He flicked ash into the churning water below and Nora craned her neck to look past him, wondering where Oxley was.
“Oh dear, yes we are. Isn’t this the floor our cabins are on?” A flustered Aunt Julia turned to Nora. She could win an acting award.
“No, Auntie, I told you this isn’t but you’re too stubborn to listen.” Nora smiled inwardly at her aunt’s frown at the word stubborn. If Julia was going to put her on the spot, at least she could get a dig in.
Julia sidled over to the railing, looking out at the passing scenery. She craned her neck, perhaps looking for a body floating behind the boat. “Well, it is lovely here though. A nice private spot.”
Max was watching Julia and not in the affectionate way one usually watches a kooky old lady. “I think you want the deck above.”
“Yes, yes. Of course.” Aunt Julia turned from the railing and waved a cloud of smoke from her face. “We’ll just run along then. Nice meeting you Mr. …” Aunt Julia raised a brow at him.
“Lawton, Max Lawton.”
“Yes, well then, lovely to make your acquaintance. I’m Julia Marsh and this is my grand-niece, Nora.”
They all shook hands. His was surprisingly warm for a potential cold-blooded killer, but his eyes weren’t. There was something dark and wary about them.
Nora grabbed Julia by the elbow. “Now come along, Auntie, you know that you need to be good or I’ll have to put you back in the institution.”
Julia gave her a disapproving look but didn’t say anything. As Nora led her aunt away, she smiled to herself. With a character like Aunt Julia, she had to get her jabs in when she could.
Max Lawton watched the two women go back down the corridor. The older one was a busybody—he knew the type and he knew she was up to something. She played the part of a senile old lady well, but he could tell acting when he saw it.
Had they followed him on purpose or was it Oxley they were after? More importantly, why? Did they suspect the truth? Max hoped not.
It was too bad; the niece was sort of pretty with her red hair and emerald eyes. She was sharp-witted too, judging by the comment about the institution. She seemed like one of those modern, fun-loving women. Max cautioned himself not to get too friendly with her; she was surely in on it with the aunt. Whatever “it” was.
The aunt was probably one of those old-lady types who fancied herself as an amateur investigator. That was the last thing Max needed. He’d have to keep a close eye on the Marshes and deal with them appropriately if they got too close to the truth.
Chapter Nine
“Really? An institution?” Julia asked later when they’d retired to her room.
Nora laughed. “I have to do something to amuse myself.”
Julia shook her head and sighed. The amber liquid in her cut-glass tumbler swirled against the side.
“What do you have there, Auntie?” Nora glanced at the desk with its many drawers. Did Aunt Julia have a flask hiding in there somewhere?
“Just iced tea. Would you like some?” At Nora’s look at the tumbler Julia added, “All we have in the cabin is these short tumblers.”
Nora nodded. There was no use in questioning her aunt further. Besides, Julia was a grown woman and if she wanted to have a nip who could argue? Even if it was against the law, Nora would never tell; she didn’t want Aunt Julia to get into trouble.
“We’ve had quite a few developments in the case this morning.” Aunt Julia went to the desk and got a piece of paper. “I’ve been mapping out the suspects and this isn’t much different than in my book, Murder on the Eastern Express. You see there are always certain types of suspects.”
“It’s the different types that interest me the most.” Nora flopped into the club chair near the window and looked out as they streamed past a town with brick buildings and pedestrians in fancy hats. Model Ts chugged down the road, which was lined with quaint shops. This was the life, Nora thought, even if it did require solving a murder or two. “So, who was the killer in your book? Maybe we can skip ahead.”
Aunt Julia pursed her lips then shook her head. “No, in my book it was the train conductor. That wouldn’t apply here.”
Nora leaned forward in her chair. “I don’t know about that. Sven Nordby is pretty unfriendly and he was up near the scene but claimed to have seen and heard nothing.”
“You have a point, dear. Perhaps we should consider him, but let’s not overlook the clues. The pilot house is very noisy with that boiler below and the smokestack does hide the view.”
“True, and everything about the murder is personal. Delilah would have had to meet the killer so that suggests she knew him, and the stomping on her hand was violent, it suggests anger. Unless there was some personal connection between Sven and Delilah we aren’t aware of, I think we need to focus on our current suspects. We only have two more days.”
“I’m sure it didn’t escape you that Max Lawton acted very suspicious. Why on earth would he be out on that small deck near the engine room?”
“Maybe he didn’t want to bother anyone with his cigar smoke?” Nora thought about the cigarettes in her bag. Even though smoking seemed to be all the rage—and that was the only reason she even considered partaking in the habit—she always tried to make sure her smoke didn’t blow in anyone’s face.
“Perhaps. He didn’t seem very happy to see us.” Aunt Julia tapped the pen against her lips. “And what happened to Oxley? Why was Max Lawton following him?”
“That might have just been coincidental timing.” Nora remembered the way Max had been watching Oxley and how he had left his full plate on the table. Who did that? Nora certainly never would, not unless something urgent came up. “But I don’t think so. No, he did follow him, but maybe he never caught up to him.”
“Oxley could have disappeared behind any of those doors and Max might have been waiting for him to come out,” Julia said. “And let’s not forget about that locked room that Giles showed us during the tour. That intrigues me.”
Nora smiled. No surprise there. Aunt Julia wasn’t one to let a locked room go unexplored, but did it have anything to do with Delilah’s murder? It was unlikely. Her thoughts returned to the possibility of a more personal connection. “If those knowing looks that Max and Delilah exchanged had meaning, then they knew each other. We already know that Oxley and Deli
lah were an item. Could be a love triangle and someone wanted to make sure it was a duet.”
“Just like in Lovers’ Leap.” Julia referred to one of her mysteries. “And there’s another person who has raised my suspicions. Johnny Stokes. Don’t you find it odd that he didn’t hear about the death until we told him at breakfast?”
“It does seem odd, but why would he pretend that he didn’t know?” Nora had a soft spot for Johnny, given his obvious affection for his grandmother.
“Maybe he thought it would be a good way to prove he wasn’t the one who pushed her. Trying to disassociate himself from the entire incident.” Julia wrote something on her paper. “I’m not counting him out, though his motive is a mystery.”
“And then there’s Vera Hinchcliffe.” Nora’s money was on her. The way she ran off anytime the murder was mentioned was classic behavior for someone trying to pretend to themselves that they hadn’t done something abhorrent. Maybe she was the killer?
“She is the type I like to make the killer in my books.”
“Maybe Delilah was the one she was trying to avoid at the reception.” Vera acted delicate and a bit ditzy around Beau, but Nora noticed how shrewdly she played him. She was clever enough to be a killer, yet Nora sensed a certain sweetness about her and she’d seen longing in Vera’s baby blues when she looked at Martha, as if she yearned for her approval.
“But she has an alibi with Beau,” Aunt Julia said. “Though he could be in on it, too. Was he really sleeping until Vera woke him? Maybe he was and she snuck out then back in thinking he could give her an alibi, but wouldn’t that wake him? In any event she did recover pretty quickly from whatever caused her to run out at the reception, but then she rushed off at the first mention of Delilah during breakfast.”
“It’s too bad the alibis are so hard to establish. Everyone was asleep. Or so they say.”
“Since we’ve determined the killer was likely known to Delilah, the next step is to ferret out the motive. That seems like your area of expertise. I assume you have some trick questions to trip them up?”
“I do.” Nora knew exactly how to phrase things so that the subject would stumble over answers or entrap themselves in a web of lies. It was one of her favorite things to do.
Aunt Julia capped her pen and looked out the window. “Well then, I guess we’d better go seek out our suspects and see what shakes out. With Artemis Leonard coming in two days, we don’t have a minute to waste.”
Nora thanked her stars there was a slight breeze on the veranda that ran along the edge of the boat, otherwise the thin fabric of her dusty-peach sheath dress would have clung to her like gravy on a biscuit. It was humid like only the south can be and being on the river added to it. Still, the lazy speed at which the boat glided along was soothing. Who would have guessed there was a murderer on board?
Beulah Entwhistle was seated in a rocking chair facing the shore, knitting needles racing along. Aunt Julia paused to speak to her.
“Hello there. Are you enjoying this lovely day?”
“Indeed! I’m almost finished with my project.” Beulah held up the hat, clearly pleased with herself. “Next I start on a scarf for my nephew.”
Harold was reading a hardcover and Nora could see Julia crane her neck to view the title of the book. When she realized it wasn’t one of hers, she scowled. “Oh I see you have the latest R.D. Hines book. I find the mysteries are not quite up to snuff, don’t you?”
Harold glanced up. “Not really. It’s quite engaging.”
“Hmmm… well, we must move along, need my exercise you know.”
When they got far enough away, Aunt Julia whispered, “Harold has no taste in books. Nice taste in jewelry though.”
Nora looked back to see if Beulah had her brooch on but couldn’t tell as they’d gotten too far away.
“Oh look! There’s Sven and Giles. Let’s hurry! We can catch Sven and maybe he’ll let something drop.” Julia took off like a racehorse determined to win a trophy. “Giles! Yoohoo!”
Giles turned and Nora couldn’t tell if he was happy to see Julia rushing after him or terrified. He nodded at both of them. Sven looked at them as if they were annoying insects and grunted.
Giles pulled them aside, out of earshot of anyone else. “Are you getting anywhere with the investigation?”
Julia shot a surprised look at Sven.
Upon noticing the look, Giles said, “Sven knows about your suspicions. He needs to know everything that is going on.”
“’Tis quite unusual,” Sven grumbled and shot an accusing look at Aunt Julia.
“Lucky thing that we can’t have the police send a smaller boat to come aboard now,” Giles said. “It will give you some more time.”
“That is a lucky thing.” Nora looked out at the river. When Giles had said that the next port that could accommodate the Miss Delta Belle was in Vicksburg she hadn’t considered that the police could simply send a boat out and dock alongside. “Why can’t the police send a boat out?”
“Rocks, ma’am,” Sven said.
“Could you elaborate?” Aunt Julia asked.
“The river is full of rocks. Right now we are in a smooth section, but t’int safe to try to maneuver the Miss Delta Belle through most of the river here and try to hold a steady course or speed her so a boat could pull up alongside.”
“Oh…” Aunt Julia smiled at Sven. “How convenient.”
Nora figured she was making a note about that to use in her next book. Since Sven was starting to open up, Nora decided to feel him out about the murder. “And you’re sure you didn’t notice anything that night? No one running about on the deck? No screams or yelling?”
Sven narrowed his eyes at her. “Did I not tell you that before?”
“Well, yes, but I thought maybe after you’d thought about it…”
“I don’t need to think about something like that. Now I must get back to help my co-pilot navigate.” Sven glanced at Giles, then turned on his heel and stomped off.
“Friendly sort, isn’t he?” Julia asked.
“He has his quirks but he’s a darn good river pilot,” Giles said. “Now, tell me, are you getting closer to figuring out what happened? Please tell me you have determined it was an accident after all.”
“Afraid not. I’m more certain than ever that it was murder,” Julia said.
Giles glanced around nervously. “Do you have any idea who did it?”
“I’m getting close, but I may need your help.”
“I’ll help with anything I can.”
“I’d like to inspect Delilah’s sleeping quarters and her dressing room. I’ve already inspected the scene of the crime but there might be something of interest in her rooms,” Aunt Julia said.
“Of course.” Giles looked at his watch. “Unfortunately I must run to another engagement and am tied up this evening. Will tomorrow do?”
Aunt Julia looked disappointed. “I suppose.”
“Very well then. Sorry to rush off.” Giles inclined his head at them and left.
Aunt Julia took Nora’s elbow and continued around the veranda. “What did you make of Sven? He was very abrupt when you mentioned the murder. Maybe we should consider him more seriously as a suspect.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure ’bout that. He did avoid answering by being brusque and that is something the killer might do, but that sort of avoidance usually happens with someone more impulsive. Statistics show that a person as regimented as Sven would have the patience to hide their guilt by drawing out the conversation and not storming away to end it.”
Aunt Julia made a face. “If you say so. I suppose his alibi would be easy to prove or disprove, perhaps we should ask the co-pilot—”
Aunt Julia stopped short and Nora followed her gaze. Percival Montford and Clifford Oxley were standing at the railing. They appeared to be in a deep discussion about something and, by the way they were standing so close, it looked as if it was something they didn’t want anyone to overhear.
“Is it just me or does it appear as if the good doctor and Mr. Oxley are more than acquaintances?” Julia asked.
“It’s not just you.” Nora could tell by their gestures and low voices there was an air of familiarity about them.
“Let’s go find out.” Julia headed toward them.
The two men saw them coming and stepped apart.
“Mr. Oxley! Doctor Montford! I didn’t realize the two of you knew each other,” Aunt Julia said.
Montford looked annoyed at her very presence but answered politely. “Clifford is my nephew, didn’t I mention that? He gave us the tickets for this cruise.”
“He did? How nice of him.” Aunt Julia glanced at Nora then lowered her voice. “Such a shame about the tragedy but lucky thing we had a doctor on board. Not that you could have done anything.”
Montford shifted uneasily. “Terrible loss.”
Julia turned to Oxley. “I hope you will accept our condolences. We heard you were close to Miss Dove.”
Oxley nodded, his expression turning somber. “I was. She was a great singer and an asset to the entertainment staff.”
“Indeed. And so young. Hard to believe she just fell, what with the railing and all.” Aunt Julia smiled up at Oxley benignly.
Oxley pulled at his collar. “Umm, well… yes, it was tragic.”
“Yes, and so terrible to think of your loved one being subjected to such brutality.” Nora studied Oxley’s reaction. He cringed appropriately, but Nora sensed he was holding back. Was that because he was the killer and only acting disgusted?
Aunt Julia leaned in. “Tragic. I believe Giles mentioned something about an investigation…” She waved her hand in the air. “But I’m sure that’s just a formality.”
Oxley stopped fiddling with his collar. “I didn’t hear anything about an investigation.”
“Oh yes, of course there must be one. Don’t you think?”
Murder on a Mississippi Steamboat Page 6