Murder on a Mississippi Steamboat

by Leighann Dobbs

  The view was stunning from the sun deck. The lazy river wound out behind them and fields with rows of crops spread out along the riverbanks. Since they were close to Vicksburg there was more traffic on the river, boats both large and small sailed along.

  They had come up the stairs by the stern and Aunt Julia walked all the way to the railing and looked out over the bright-red paddle wheel. A new railing had been built, this one much taller and with less chance anyone could go over. The deck was empty, which was a shame since it offered a gorgeous view, but ever since the death, people hadn’t had much of a desire to come up here.

  “It would have been very tight for Oxley to push Delilah over, stomp on her hand and then run back to his room in time to pretend as if he were coming out,” said Nora.

  Aunt Julia spun around and tapped her index finger on her lips. “He might be a fast runner. Maybe he even leapt over several steps to get down quicker? If he took these stairs here, that would be the fastest route, because the entertainers’ rooms are at the stern. It wouldn’t make sense for him to go all the way to the steps near the bow.”

  “But surely someone would have seen him?” Nora said. “These steps are the most traveled. They are the ones we came up on. The ones near the bow are less traveled since all the cabins are further toward the back.”

  “Indeed, but Sven would have seen him going down the ones near the bow, no? And besides, no one else was up at that time of night.”

  They both turned to look at the pilot house sitting high above the deck. “Well, if Oxley has an accomplice, it could be Sven.”

  Julia’s gaze narrowed. “Perhaps. But let’s think out the timing here. It’s one hundred and sixty steps from Oxley’s cabin to the railing.”

  Nora nodded even though she hadn’t been counting.

  Julia turned to her. “Now, if you were being pushed over a railing at what point would you scream?”

  Nora glanced at the railing. “Good question. I suppose the moment someone first pushed me.”

  “But what if that person had his hand over your mouth to muffle the scream?”

  Nora pictured Oxley and Delilah at the railing and tried to get inside Oxley’s head as the killer. “That’s certainly possible. Perhaps he’d pretended it was a romantic interlude. He’d lean in close but instead of kissing her, he’d put his hand over her mouth and shove her over.”

  “She might have been too stunned to scream at that point.” Aunt Julia peered over at the wheel. “She might have saved her energy, clinging on to the edge of the deck.”

  Nora joined her aunt in peering over. “Until he stomped on her hand, then she screamed as she lost her grip.”

  “But Oxley was already running according to what Kenny told us,” Aunt Julia continued. “He would have had it planned out, I imagine. If he thought Delilah was working behind his back.”

  “So he could have made it down the stairs without anyone seeing him.” Nora glanced back at the stairway. “It would be easy to jump the railing to get down faster and if people peeked out of their rooms, they really could only see if someone was on the landing to their floor.”

  “Let’s not forget that people were sleeping. It takes a few minutes to wake up and process what you heard and then get your slippers and robe,” Aunt Julia said.

  “So Oxley could have simply rushed to the end of the hallway and waited for the other entertainers to open their doors?” Norah asked.

  “That’s one way it could have happened. If Oxley is the killer.” Aunt Julia pivoted and looked toward the smokestack. Steam flowed out the top and the flags flapped in the breeze. “If the smokestack hid the area back here from Sven’s view, it also hid Sven from the view of everyone back here.”

  “You don’t think Sven was involved?” Nora asked. “He is a little odd, but what motive would he have? Do you think he’s in on the drugs with Oxley?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but things are coming together. It may be that the murder and the drugs are not related at all.” Nora heard a noise behind them and they turned to see Giles Hendricks coming up the stairs. “Or it could be that Oxley had an accomplice. I need to check a few more things and I think I will have a good idea which it is.”

  Giles seemed surprised to see them. “Oh, hello. I was just coming up to collect Sven to inspect the err… body.”

  “Perfect, we’ll follow along with you then,” Aunt Julia said.

  Giles glanced toward the pilot house, but of course they couldn’t see anything because the smokestack was in the way. “That’s not necessary, Julia. I wouldn’t want to put you through that. I can tell you Sven’s opinion.”

  “Nonsense, I’m not that delicate.” Julia looked at Nora. “You don’t mind, do you, dear?”

  “Of course not.” Actually, Nora did mind, but clearly it was important to Aunt Julia to look at the body herself. She’d done it dozens of times and wasn’t squeamish. Would a modern woman be squeamish? Nora wasn’t sure, but if she wanted to investigate murders with her aunt, she’d have to toughen up.

  “I am ready.”

  Nora whirled around. Sven had snuck up and was standing behind her. He sure was quiet.

  “Okay then, shall we?” Giles headed toward the stairs, but Sven held back.

  “These women will accompany us?” He looked at Aunt Julia and Nora doubtfully.

  “Yes,” Giles said.

  “Is no place for a woman,” Sven said.

  Nora bristled. “Women are doing all sorts of things that it wasn’t their place to do these days. These are more modern times.”

  Sven simply lifted his left brow, his ice-blue eyes holding hers in an unwavering gaze. Then he bowed slightly and gestured toward the stairs.

  Nora proceeded toward them, happy that she’d won a small battle for womankind. As she walked past Sven, she thought she heard him mutter “suspicious”. She turned to look at him but he was gazing out at the river. Imagine him being suspicious of them? The nerve!

  On the way to the cold-storage area, they passed Max. He appeared to be following the Hinchcliffes. Now that was interesting, had he found out something about them? Surely they wouldn’t be involved in the drug running, but maybe he was following them to help Nora and Julia solve the murder. Nora caught his gaze and his lips quirked in a slight smile. He gave a slight nod of his head and she returned it before continuing on.

  “I had the boat retrofitted with all modern freezers. New models. The original had iceboxes with ice. These run off the power of the ship,” Giles rambled as they walked along an undecorated part of the boat. They were down near the kitchen, in a parallel corridor to the one that led behind the stage where the dressing rooms and entertainers’ sleeping quarters were.

  They came to the kitchen, which was empty. Pots and pans gleamed and a stainless-steel table sat in the middle, cleaned and ready for the next trip. Percival Montford came in behind them.

  “Good timing, Doctor Montford. Thanks for coming.” Giles walked to a pair of large stainless-steel doors. A thick chain was threaded between the door handles and a padlock secured it shut.

  “I locked the freezer to secure things.” Giles pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the padlock.

  “And you’re the only one with the key?” Aunt Julia asked. “What if the staff needed to get in there for something?”

  “They wouldn’t. The freezer doesn’t have food in it.” Giles laughed nervously. “Wouldn’t want the food inspector to shut me down. The frozen food is all taken out at the beginning of the trip and thawed properly in the refrigerator, so the freezer was empty when… it happened.”

  “How convenient,” Aunt Julia said.

  Delilah’s body lay on a pallet, covered with a sheet. At least they’d stored her tastefully and with respect. Nora lingered by the doorway as the others gathered around. Percival pulled the sheet back and Nora shivered.

  Delilah’s hair was spread out in frozen strands. It had still been wet when she’d been laid here. Her skin had a dull gray
ish tone, her lips were slightly blue. Nora focused on the body language of the people inspecting Delilah instead of on the body.

  Sven was as rigid as ever, observing as Dr. Montford inspected various areas of the body. That didn’t really tell Nora anything, though; rigid was his usual demeanor. If he’d acted differently than normal it might have been a clue that he was nervous, but he appeared to be cool as a penguin, though if that was his usual demeanor, then maybe the fact that he was the killer wouldn’t make him act edgy at all.

  Giles appeared a little green. Maybe he didn’t have the stomach for looking at dead bodies, much less for killing. That didn’t preclude him from being a suspect in the drug running though.

  Nora hadn’t mentioned it to Aunt Julia because she knew Giles was her friend, but the thought had crossed Nora’s mind that Giles could very well be the mastermind behind the drug trafficking, not Oxley. He may have even bought the boat as a cover for that purpose. And that would explain why he was so nervous about the police investigating the murder and adamant that Aunt Julia discover the identity of the killer. He wouldn’t want the police inadvertently discovering his drug operation in the course of their murder investigation. But if that were the case, then that would mean he had no involvement in the murder. Giles knew how good Aunt Julia was at capturing killers—she was the last person he’d want on the case if he was guilty.

  Dr. Montford was going about his business efficiently and without emotion, though Nora supposed he’d been trained in that manner. He had some notes written on paper that he consulted periodically. Nothing suspicious about that. Aunt Julia was the one who seemed most suspicious. There was nothing normal about an old lady looking over a dead body as if she were inspecting the table her butler had set for tea.

  “This is exactly how you remember the body when you examined it upon her death?” Aunt Julia asked Dr. Montford.

  Dr. Montford continued on his task, covering Delilah’s face back up and lifting the sheet on her right arm. “It appears so.”

  He sounded confident but Nora had to wonder, if his memory was failing, would he actually remember?

  “Of course, it’s the same,” Giles said. “Who would go around messing with a dead body?”

  “You’d be surprised.” Aunt Julia craned her neck to see what Montford was doing. “Let’s take a look at those fingernails, perhaps one snagged on a piece of cloth or something.”

  Dr. Montford scowled at her. “I might have misplaced my watch, but I didn’t forget how to examine a body. I still remember the important details. And my notes are extensive.”

  “Of course you do, I was just suggesting we take another look.” Aunt Julia peered over the body at Delilah’s hand that Dr. Montford was examining. “See right there… isn’t that a tiny black thread?”

  Montford squinted at the hand, bringing his face closer. He took tweezers from his pocket, removed something that had been wedged in her fingernail and held it up to the light. It was indeed a short black thread.

  “Where do you think that came from?” Aunt Julia asked. “Could you have missed it the night she died?”

  “I suppose I could have. I really wasn’t thinking to scrutinize the body for clues.” Montford placed Delilah’s hand back under the sheet. “I’ll set this thread aside for the police.”

  “I think we’ve seen enough.” Sven’s face showed no emotion. “I have a perfect memory and everything is as it was when she went in here. No one has been here.”

  “Of course no one has been here.” Giles held up the key to the giant padlock. “The doors have been locked and I have the only key.”

  “I will report to Detective Leonard as such when he boards this evening.” Sven spun on his heel and stalked off.

  Aunt Julia looked reluctant to leave, but Giles and Percival Montford didn’t waste any time. Nora couldn’t wait to get out of there herself. She was still shivering as they said their goodbyes to the others in the hall.

  “What did you make of that?” Aunt Julia asked her.

  “Doctor Montford must have missed the thread the first time. If he is covering for Oxley, then he would have removed the thread. And if he isn’t then there would be no need to.”

  Aunt Julia nodded. “Delilah was wearing a turquoise gown that night. It’s possible her killer wore black and she snagged her nail on their clothing in the struggle.”

  Nora tried to remember what everyone was wearing that night. “Oxley had a black smoking jacket. But Max was wearing a black suit. Vera had pink on. What was Beau wearing?”

  “Good question. We may have to question the suspects to find out. Now, let’s go to the freight room, I’d like to check on something.” Aunt Julia started down the hall. The freight room was on the bottom deck on the bow end of the boat.

  “Do you mean about what Beau Hinchcliffe said about Vera leaving something in the trunk?” Nora asked.

  Aunt Julia tipped her head at Nora. “Very good, you remembered.”

  “I know Vera is acting as if she’s got something to hide, but you don’t think she’s the killer, do you?” Nora hurried to keep up with Aunt Julia. She couldn’t blame the woman; the hours were rushing by and soon Artemis Leonard would be coming aboard. But she wondered if her aunt was slipping and didn’t remember the one clue that pointed to the odds of the killer being a man. “Remember the ruby bracelet on the vanity surface. A woman would likely have put that in the jewelry box.”

  “Yes, I remember that, dear. You are correct. However, there may be another reason.” Aunt Julia looked at her very seriously. “Remember things are not always what they appear to be.”

  The freight room was a small, stuffy room with no windows. It was where they kept the trunks of passengers who didn’t want them cluttering up their rooms. Nora, an experienced traveler, liked to pack light and was able to manage with two smaller suitcases she simply shoved under the bed after emptying.

  The entry to the room was open, but there was a small office with a half door attached and it seemed they should stop. An elderly steward dozed on the other side of the half door, his cap pushed down over his face, snores drifting out into the hallway. Aunt Julia cleared her throat and he jerked awake.

  “Oh… Hi there.” He stood and straightened his uniform. “Can I help you?”

  “Hello. This is the freight room?” Aunt Julia asked.

  He looked into the room as if it might have changed. “Why yes, it is.”

  “Does one have to sign in?”

  “Do you need to get into your trunks? If you want to collect them for packing we will start delivering them to the rooms in one hour,” the man said.

  “Oh no, I don’t want to wait for that. I’d like to look for mine now, if you don’t mind.” Aunt Julia used her authoritative voice that typically worked on most anyone.

  “Of course not.” The man leaned back in his chair and gestured for her to go inside.

  “I don’t need to sign in or anything?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m here to make sure everything in there is safe.” The man settled back in his chair and pushed his cap down over his face.

  Aunt Julia shrugged and headed inside. “You can see practically anyone could sneak in here.”

  “I see that, but why would anyone?” Nora asked.

  “One never knows.” Aunt Julia walked slowly down the rows of luggage. There were larger steamer trunks alongside the smaller, more modern valises. The room was hot and sticky and smelled like leather and old shoes.

  Nora fanned herself and wished she’d worn flats instead of the T-strap heels that were now killing her feet. Who knew Aunt Julia would take her on a whirlwind tour of the steamer and just what, exactly, was she expecting to find down here?

  “Some of this luggage has seen the world! Look at all these stickers. Paris, London, Milan. This one has been well used.” Aunt Julia pointed to a small valise with scuffed corners and a broken handle. She bent down to look at the luggage tag. “Oh, it’s that odd man Johnny Stokes’. Looks like he
doesn’t have much money. Seems strange that he’d be on this trip, don’t you think?”

  Now that Julia mentioned it, it did seem odd. The maiden voyage of the Miss Delta Belle was rather exclusive and a bit on the expensive side. “I think he’s a gambler. I’ve seen him at the tables. Maybe he came hoping to fleece some of the rich passengers,” said Nora.

  “Maybe. Oh! Here are the Hinchcliffes’ trunks.” Aunt Julia stopped in front of a set of smart navy-blue steamers with brown leather corners. The trunks were well cared for. And expensive. Not that that surprised Nora.

  “A nice set,” Nora said.

  Aunt Julia’s attempt to unclasp the lock failed. “Darn, it’s locked.”

  “And a good thing too. It’s not nice to break into other people’s luggage,” Nora admonished.

  “I wasn’t breaking in. I was hoping it would just fall open.” Aunt Julia’s eyes landed on two trunks right behind the Hinchcliffes. “Those look like Delilah’s.”

  They pushed an old wooden trunk aside and stood in front of the two trunks Aunt Julia had spotted. They did look identical, but then so many of the trunks looked the same. There was one right behind them that looked a match, with the brass corners worn clear to the base metal and two in the back row with similar hardware but in a little better shape. These had an address stuck on them.

  “Annie Banks. I thought the trunks were going to Delilah’s mother. Wouldn’t her name be Dove?” asked Nora.

  “Dove was a stage name, dear.” Aunt Julia turned to Nora. “Remember things aren’t always as you think.”

  “Yes, you said that before.” It was getting a little annoying, too. Aunt Julia’s little veiled messages could get tedious at times. Just for good measure and, perhaps, hoping to prove her aunt wrong, Nora craned to see if the other similar trunks had an address with the name Dove. Unfortunately, those were going to Wilsons and MacKenzies.

  “Yes, these are the ones. I remember the brass corners were very dull with scratches.” Aunt Julia bent down to inspect them.

  “And there was a daub of red nail polish on the top,” Nora said, as if to prove that she, too, could be observant.