Death Sets Sail

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Death Sets Sail Page 13

by Robin Stevens


  ‘Boys, really!’ said Mr DeWitt. ‘This isn’t the time, is it? Not now!’

  At that point, Daisy made her dramatic entrance. She came rushing round the side of the ship, looking shocked and sweetly pretty.

  ‘Whatever’s wrong!’ she cried. ‘Oh goodness!’

  George and Alexander surged forward, struggling and yelling, and Mr DeWitt moved after them. He was all the way out of the doorway now. I felt May wriggle past me on her hands and knees. I tried desperately hard not to look down.

  ‘Daisy!’ George was shouting dramatically. ‘I must confess my love!’

  ‘Boys!’ Daisy cried. ‘Oh, this is dreadful – please don’t fight! We must be peaceful in this terrible time!’

  I caught Daisy’s eye, and some of my disapproval must have shown in my face, for she winked at me and pursed her lips. I knew then that she did not mean a word of what she said – and I also knew that I had to go after May. While everyone on deck was looking at Daisy, I took a deep breath and slipped through Mr DeWitt’s doorway.

  6

  Mr DeWitt’s cabin was dark and quiet after the heat and sun outside. It smelled very strongly of cologne, several sorts, which clashed in the air and made me hold my hand up to my nose in disgust.

  ‘Where is it?’ I asked May (with difficulty, for I was trying to breathe as shallowly as I could). ‘And shh! We don’t want anyone noticing we’re here.’

  ‘Under the bed!’ said May. She dived forward and emerged a moment later with a pair of pyjama trousers, which she laid out on the floor like a proud cat displaying a dead bird.

  ‘I’m going to be a spy one day, you’ll see,’ she told me.

  ‘You are not!’ I said to her. ‘Now shush, I want to look at this.’

  I was kneeling down to peer at the trousers, and realized that she was perfectly right. There were half-scrubbed-away smears and spots of blood on their hem – blood that had darkened to copper brown. Mr DeWitt had tried to wash them, but he had not done it very well.

  ‘The blood’s been there a while,’ I said. ‘We can’t be sure that it’s Mrs Miller’s, or even from last night.’

  I knew as I said it how silly that was. Blood on the bottom of a pair of trousers – where else could it have come from?

  The pocket of the trousers was bulging suspiciously, so I wrapped my handkerchief round my fingers and stuck them carefully inside. I pulled out another handkerchief, stained oddly with dark blotches.

  ‘Ooh!’ said May. ‘What is it? More blood?’

  ‘Not blood,’ I said, squinting. ‘These blots are something else.’

  ‘Are they from those?’ asked May, pointing to the top of the dresser. ‘I saw them when I came in before!’

  I looked up at where she was gesturing – and saw a row of little dark bottles, each with a smart white-and-blue label on their side. Easton’s Syrup, they all read.

  ‘Those are tonics, May,’ I said. ‘It’s the same stuff that Theodora has in her bathroom.’

  ‘Yes, but why are there so many?’ asked May, sticking out her bottom lip.

  The door opened again then, and we both froze.

  ‘It’s me,’ whispered Alexander. ‘How are you doing? Daisy and George are pretending to argue with Mr DeWitt now, so I’ve snuck in here. I don’t know how long I have, though. What did you find?’

  I could feel myself blushing. ‘Bloodstains, here,’ I said, pointing at the pyjama trousers. ‘And a handkerchief with stains – May thinks it’s from these tonic bottles, but it doesn’t make any sense.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Alexander. He strode over to the row of bottles and stared closely at one of them. ‘This says one to two spoonfuls a day, for health and vitality – tonics. But why are there so many? Even if this trip was three weeks long instead of one, he would hardly get through a single bottle, let alone seven. That’s weird!’

  I got up and went over to him. I was only going to look at the bottles, really – but then I glanced sideways, and saw that Alexander was smiling at me. In the dimness, his eyes looked very dark blue. I couldn’t help it – I smiled back at him.

  ‘So,’ he said, picking up one of the bottles and spinning it about between his fingers. It smelled dark and medicinal, quite horrid.

  I couldn’t bear to remind him what poor detective practice that was.

  ‘So,’ I said back idiotically.

  ‘I’m glad we’re here,’ said Alexander. ‘I mean – you know – even though there’s been a murder again, like always. It’s, er, nice to see you.’

  May made a disgusted sound, and hid under the bed.

  ‘It’s nice to see you too,’ I said, trying to ignore her and also stop my heart from pounding so hard.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Alexander, running his hand through his hair distractedly. ‘George really does like mummies a lot. And I’ve always wanted to see the Pyramids. When my parents said they couldn’t have me this Christmas – I guess it made sense.’

  ‘Of course,’ I stammered. He came to Egypt to see you, a little voice in my head whispered. He wanted to see you.

  The two of us stared at each other. Then May, still rustling about, made a rude noise, and I jumped.

  ‘So, er, how about these bottles of syrup?’ asked Alexander, and I could have sworn the tips of his ears had gone slightly pink. ‘Not very murderous, are they? I mean, they’re just tonics. Just iron phosphate and quinine and – hey, Hazel. HAZEL. Look!’

  He stuck out his hand towards me, and I stared at the label of the bottle.

  ‘Iron phosphate, quinine and – strychnine,’ I gasped. ‘But that’s a poison! It can kill you!’

  ‘Hazel, this has to mean something, right? Why should Mr DeWitt have so many bottles of this stuff? It has to matter that it’s got strychnine in it! And – and maybe that’s the reason for the blotches. What if he was straining out the solution to extract the strychnine?’

  ‘Oh,’ I breathed. ‘I think you’re right.’

  Then we looked at each other, and I suddenly realized that our heads were still very close together where we had bent over to read the bottle ingredients. I could see the freckles on Alexander’s nose, and I felt as though the whole air was electricity.

  Then the door banged open again, and from the deck we heard Mr DeWitt shouting, ‘Do go away and leave me alone!’

  He did not turn to look inside, otherwise he would have noticed us.

  ‘But, sir!’ cried George. ‘I must say—’

  I stepped backwards very quickly and the feeling vanished. Mr DeWitt made a furious noise and strode away. The coast was clear for a moment.

  ‘We should go before he comes back in,’ said Alexander, stepping backwards just as quickly as I had. ‘Come on, let’s hurry.’

  And although we had found an astonishing new clue, sending our investigation in a very interesting direction, as we hurried together to the doorway of Mr DeWitt’s cabin, I suddenly felt unaccountably furious with myself.

  But that was nothing to the feeling I had when I stepped out on deck and heard my father bellow, ‘HAZEL!’

  7

  ‘There you are!’ he cried. ‘How is it possible I can lose so many daughters on such a small ship?’

  ‘But you’ve got Rose,’ I pointed out, for Rose was beside him, clutching another book.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ said my father. ‘But May is quite gone. Have you seen her? She hasn’t been – helping you, Hazel? When I told you I would not stop your – activities, I didn’t mean that you should drag your little sister into them with you.’

  I flinched. ‘No!’ I said, and I heard my voice come out wrong. ‘May has nothing to do with this. She must just be – hiding somewhere, pretending to be a pirate.’

  ‘Hazel,’ said my father. ‘Do not abuse my trust. Having one daughter who finds murders wherever she goes is bad enough, but I think having two would break me. Perhaps the answer is to remove Miss Wells from the picture? I swear she is bad luck.’

  ‘It’s everyone else who’s bad luck
!’ I said, stung. ‘Daisy and I fix things!’ It was terribly bold of me – I knew that my father was already trusting me more than he had ever done – but I could not help myself. It was true, and I wanted him to know it.

  ‘Wong Fung Ying, why can I see your little sister behind you?’ asked my father, his voice freezingly calm. ‘Wong Mei Li, WHY ARE YOU OUT ON DECK?’

  May, safely out of Mr DeWitt’s cabin, jumped up. ‘I escaped!’ she said proudly. ‘I wanted to come and see Hazel. I’m sorry. I’ll go back with you now.’

  ‘Was this your big sister’s idea?’

  There was a pause. ‘No, Father,’ said May, her face shining with earnestness. ‘It was all my idea. Hazel told me not to.’

  ‘I hope that is the truth,’ said my father. ‘I hope so for both your sakes. May, come with me AT ONCE. And, Hazel—’

  ‘Yes, Father?’ I squeaked.

  ‘I hope you know what you are doing,’ said my father. ‘I hope so very much.’

  And he stormed off, dragging May and Rose behind him. May looked back at me and stuck out her tongue. And I had a brief moment of – pride, I suppose.

  Mr Mansour was in among us all now. ‘Please!’ he cried. ‘Please go back into your cabins, everyone! Please!’

  ‘Of course, Mr Mansour,’ said Daisy. ‘We’re so sorry for the fuss. George and Alexander are sorry, aren’t you, boys?’

  ‘We’re so sorry,’ said Alexander.

  ‘Yes, terribly,’ said George insincerely.

  ‘Good. Then off you go,’ said Mr Mansour.

  ‘Are we really going back to our cabins?’ whispered Amina.

  ‘Of course not!’ snapped Daisy. ‘We have too much to do – including updating our suspect list, doing our re-creations and getting in to see Heppy. I believe you have the answer to that problem?’

  Amina laughed. ‘I think I do,’ she said. ‘Is it always like this, during your cases?’

  ‘Usually,’ said Alexander. ‘Whenever Hazel’s around, something exciting’s bound to happen.’

  ‘Whenever Daisy’s around, you mean,’ I said.

  ‘Nope,’ said Alexander. ‘I’m pretty sure it’s you just as much as it is Daisy.’

  And I blushed bright red.

  8

  ‘So, how do you intend to get us in to see Heppy?’ asked Daisy.

  ‘It’s easy!’ said Amina, eyes gleaming. She put out her hand and turned Daisy’s wristwatch towards her. Daisy twitched. ‘The guard will change over in ten minutes, so we should go now. Only I don’t think it should be all of us.’

  ‘Let me guess, you want Alex and me to wait up here and cover for you,’ said George.

  ‘Thank you for volunteering,’ said Daisy, eyebrow raised. ‘What an excellent idea! Now, Amina, tell us your plan.’

  ‘So,’ said Amina, twinkling at Daisy, ‘when I was scouting around earlier, I heard Mr Mansour talking to the sailors in Arabic. The guard on Heppy’s door is to be changed every hour, and they all have to take a turn. And the sailor who’s been put on this hour is Muslim, like me. And – well, I think we can use that.’

  ‘How?’ asked Daisy.

  ‘Lots of Muslims believe in jinn and afarit, and so, since Theodora was murdered, he’s quite probably worried that she might have become an ifrit.’

  ‘What’s that?’ I asked curiously.

  ‘Hazel! Haven’t you read the Arabian Nights?’ asked Daisy, sniffing in a superior way.

  I opened my mouth to tell her crossly that I have read as many books as she has, but then I saw Amina’s eyes on Daisy and closed it again with a sigh.

  ‘The afarit are demons or spirits, bad ones. They’re powerful and dangerous – and they often try to take revenge on the person who murdered them. So, if someone believed that Theodora might have become one, they’d be nervous in case she came to get Heppy.’

  I shuddered. I did not like the sound of that.

  ‘So I think we could try to frighten this guard – Ahmed – away from Heppy’s door quite easily if I pretend to be an ifrit. All we need is a sheet and a glass of hibiscus juice.’

  We had discovered Amina’s fondness for pranks last year – she had disrupted all of Deepdean with them, and for a while we were afraid that she might ruin one of our investigations because of them. But it turned out that Amina’s cleverness stopped us going in the wrong direction with our investigation, and in the end her help was exactly what we needed to solve the case. So, although pouring some hibiscus juice on a sheet did not seem obviously brilliant to me, I was willing to go along with it.

  ‘Excellent,’ said Daisy. ‘Boys, as agreed, you stay up here. You might as well use the time rigging up our first re-creation. We need to prove that May’s activity really did rule out anyone from the lower deck. Put up that bell contraption she says she used. Go on, go! Now, Amina, once we’ve got the sheet and the juice, where shall we meet you?’

  ‘Cupboard on the bottom deck!’ said Amina. ‘It’s obvious enough. I’ll get the juice; you get the sheet. Meet you there in three minutes!’

  Two minutes and fifty seconds later, Daisy and I were crowding into the little cupboard on the bottom deck, next to the cold storage where Mrs Miller’s body was being kept. I shuddered as we crept past it. We were lower than the cabins here, lower than the restaurant, where only the sailors were supposed to be, and this deck was small and dark compared to the grandeur and light above us.

  The cupboard was dark and close inside, with a strong smell of damp. Once we were inside, I pulled out my little torch from my pocket and shone it around.

  ‘Very clever!’ said Amina, popping her head into its beam. ‘Do you always carry one?’

  ‘Always,’ I said. ‘Daisy insists.’

  ‘I do!’ said Daisy. ‘Amina, I must say I’m impressed.’

  ‘Thank you!’ said Amina with a twinkle. ‘All right, spread out the sheet. I’m going to bloody it nicely.’

  We stretched out the bedsheet in a billow of clean white, and Amina artfully splattered juice across it. It came out disturbingly red, and I felt a bit wobbly looking at it.

  ‘Excellent,’ Amina said. ‘Now the cabin they’ve got Heppy in is next to the stairs, which is useful. When we go back up, I think I ought to be the ifrit. I can speak Arabic and it’ll frighten Ahmed more if I curse him a bit. You two can stand behind me and wave your torches on me. It’ll look horrifying.’

  ‘We ought to turn off the lights, otherwise it won’t work,’ I said. The lower deck was a sort of negative of the saloon deck – the cabins were on the outside, and the corridor was in the middle, with a stair going down and up on each end and lit by a succession of lamps both day and night. If they were on, I was worried that our trick would be revealed.

  ‘About that,’ said Amina. ‘The generator’s switch is in this cupboard. Why d’you think I told you to come in here?’

  I was impressed, and my face must have shown it.

  ‘Ready?’ asked Daisy in a slightly higher voice than normal.

  ‘Ready,’ said Amina, nodding.

  9

  We flicked off the switch, and pushed the door to the cupboard open into velvety darkness. Above us I could hear shouts of confusion (I thought of Pik An, ill in her room, and felt rather guilty), and close by our own shufflings and nervous breathing. At least, I hoped they were ours. Daisy put her hand on my shoulder.

  Amina walked in front of us, one careful foot in front of the other to stop herself tripping on the trailing sheet. We had draped it loosely round her and arranged it artfully to show the worst splashes of juice (which really did look uncomfortably like blood).

  ‘Now!’ I whispered, once we were in position at the bottom of the stairs. Amina raised her white arms, we flicked on the torches and lit her like a candle from behind. Amina gave a shriek, and rushed upwards, shouting terribly. We flickered the light wildly up after her so it caught her fingers, dipped in the remains of the juice, the whirling white sheet and her rushing form.

  It only took a few
seconds, and then we heard a terrible scream, a stumbling rush of feet and something falling to the floor. A door slammed further away, and Amina stopped her shrieking, spun round (her face stark and hair wild in the torchlight) and cried down to us, ‘He’s gone, and he’s dropped the key! Come on, quickly, through here!’

  She scrabbled for it, clicked the key into the lock and shoved the door open, and Daisy and I rushed up the last few stairs and tumbled inside the cabin.

  I had forgotten that this cabin would be dark too, as dark and close as the cupboard, with a nervous voice calling out, ‘Who is it? Who are you? Please don’t hurt me – please—’

  Daisy’s torch flashed up to show Heppy crouched against a small bed, her expression terrified. She was still wearing her bloodstained nightgown, and it suddenly made Amina’s sheet look like the poorest costume. There was nothing really frightening about it, after all – this was real horror.

  ‘It’s all right!’ I said, with difficulty, trying to make myself breathe calmly. ‘It’s just us: Daisy, Hazel and – and Amina. There’s been a power cut and we wanted to make sure you were all right.’ I was proud of how easily the lie slid off my tongue.

  ‘Who was screaming just now?’ asked Heppy. ‘Are they all right?’

  ‘The guard was frightened,’ said Amina. She had wriggled out of her sheet, and as I glanced at her she kicked it at Daisy across the floor. Daisy caught it with her foot and shoved it behind us. ‘So we’re here instead. We’ll look after you until the lights come back on.’

  ‘But you shouldn’t be here,’ gasped Heppy. ‘I – I’m dangerous! I hurt people! That’s why I’m locked away here – I can’t be trusted!’

  ‘We think you can,’ I said gently. ‘We don’t think you hurt Theodora, after all, not in the way you said.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean!’ said Heppy, holding up her hands. ‘I killed her!’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’ snapped Daisy. ‘What do you remember?’

 

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