‘And it explains the stains we found in the sink – if Mr DeWitt washed himself off in a panic, getting fingerprints and blood all over the taps. They never fitted with the framing – now we know why.’
I could imagine it – shaking hands, the cold of the water and the swirling dark stains, knowing that there was a dead body a few feet away. I shuddered.
‘Does that rule out Mr DeWitt?’ I asked, to quiet my mind. ‘Whatever he was hiding, he told the truth about going into the cabin – the crime scene proves it. And he’s the person who made the splash May heard – the last noise she heard. So that tells us that everything happened before two.’
‘Hmm,’ said Daisy. ‘Bother it, it does seem that way. But we can only be absolutely certain once we’ve completed our interviews.’
‘George is here,’ Alexander said from the doorway. ‘He’s got lunch.’
‘Oh, excellent,’ said Daisy. ‘Let him in. You bring us Miss Bartleby – and don’t let her talk to the other suspects.’
‘Alex will be perfectly fine,’ said George, coming in with a tray piled high with food. ‘He’s a good detective. And he doesn’t work for you, no matter how much you wish he did.’
‘Oh, shush, you,’ said Daisy, eyeing George with a cross expression.
‘No,’ said George cheerfully, putting down the tray with a crash. It was piled high with creamy hummus and baba ganoush, flatbreads freckled from cooking and crisp pickles. ‘I won’t. It’s not good for you. You keep forgetting that there are two detective agencies trying to solve this case. Alex and I aren’t your minions, and we don’t have to do what you say.’
‘You got lunch for us, didn’t you?’
‘Only because I’m not quite heartless enough to let you get poisoned.’
‘You don’t think someone would!’ I gasped.
‘Why not? Saying you’re detectives is dangerous. It’d be much easier for quite a few people on this ship if you and Daisy just went away.’
‘Including you!’ said Daisy.
George grinned at her. ‘We like each other enough to tell each other where we’re going wrong,’ he said. ‘If I poisoned you, I wouldn’t have nearly as much fun.’
‘I do not like you!’ spluttered Daisy. ‘How dare you! You are a nuisance!’
‘The good news is that I watched the cook make up this tray and there’s no poison in any of it,’ George went on. ‘You can eat it – but tell me what you’ve found out while you’re eating.’
We explained. George whistled. ‘So we can rule him out!’ he said.
‘I think so,’ I said, nodding.
Alexander stuck his head round the door of the saloon. ‘I’ve got Miss Bartleby,’ he said.
He beamed at me, and I beamed back. Daisy pinched me and settled herself, her mood quite gone.
‘Bring her in,’ she said grandly. ‘Hazel, compose yourself.’
And I was cross with her. I remember that now, and feel so guilty. I was cross with Daisy on her last day.
But of course I did not know that then.
10
Our interview with Miss Bartleby did not go at all like Mr DeWitt’s. She perched herself on the little chair and smiled cheerfully round at all of us.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘isn’t this nice?’
‘Miss Bartleby, we’re here to ask you about the murder,’ said Daisy, sitting forward in her chair.
Miss Bartleby’s face fell. ‘I don’t know anything about that,’ she said. ‘Don’t ask me, please. We agreed we wouldn’t say anything.’
‘I’m afraid we have to,’ I said gently.
‘We agreed we wouldn’t say anything!’ cried Miss Bartleby. ‘That poor boy – I never meant to – there was something wrong with the meat, I’m certain of it!’
I got the most uncomfortable feeling. This wasn’t right of us, I knew it. We had already worked out that Miss Bartleby could not be behind this crime. ‘Miss Bartleby,’ I said, ‘that isn’t – it’s not Joshua’s death we’re talking about. It’s Mrs Miller’s.’
‘Hazel!’ hissed Daisy.
‘No, dear,’ said Miss Bartleby. ‘Theodora is quite well. You’re confused.’
‘Miss Bartleby, really! Mrs Miller is dead. She’s been murdered. It happened last night, and we need you to tell us what you know about it.’
Miss Bartleby stared at me. ‘But it can’t be!’ she said. ‘Surely Theodora can’t be dead! I remember it quite clearly – I put her to bed the way I always do! I tucked her in! She’s quite well – she must be!’
My breath caught. Tears were rolling down Miss Bartleby’s cheeks.
‘It keeps happening!’ she said. ‘It keeps happening, and I try to stop it. I didn’t mean it … I never meant to. Please!’
I stood up. I suddenly decided that this could not go on. ‘Miss Bartleby,’ I said, ‘we’re sorry. It’s all right. You can go. Thank you so much.’
‘Hazel!’ cried Daisy, but I shook my head at her.
‘It’s all right,’ I repeated. ‘You can go. Alexander, help her.’
Alexander moved forward and took Miss Bartleby’s arm. She leaned on him as she got to her feet, her face still wet with tears.
‘I never meant to,’ she whispered, as she was led away.
‘Hazel!’ said Daisy again, as soon as she was gone. ‘How dare you! She was about to tell us something important!’
‘She was not!’ I said. ‘Daisy, she was getting mixed up about the time again. I know she’s an important witness, and we have to interview everyone, but it’s not fair of us to press her. She knows what happened to Joshua, that’s clear, but she doesn’t know anything more about Mrs Miller’s murder. She’s not well in the head at all. We shouldn’t keep bothering her like this.’
‘But she might be lying!’ cried Daisy. ‘This might all be a clever ruse!’
‘It’s not a ruse and you know it,’ I snapped at her. I was furious. ‘She couldn’t reach the curtain rail, so she couldn’t have committed the crime. And she genuinely can’t remember things.’
‘I think Hazel’s right,’ said Amina. ‘My great-aunt – she was like that. She would get so confused, and ask me the same things over and over again. She thought I was Mama sometimes.’
I nodded. I remembered the fear in Miss Bartleby’s face. And I knew that we were right to rule her out.
11
Daniel came in. He looked furious.
‘See here,’ he said. ‘This is all nonsense! Why has anyone let you do this? You’re children!’
‘How dare you!’ said Daisy. ‘I am a policewoman. More respect, please!’
‘You are not!’ said Daniel. ‘You’re children. I’m sure of it. You’re no older than those boys you’ve got being your heavies.’
‘I simply won’t dignify that with a response,’ said Daisy. ‘We are here to solve Theodora Miller’s murder. Will you help us or not?’
Daniel’s shoulders slumped. ‘This whole trip – it’s like a bad dream,’ he said. ‘It’s all absolutely ridiculous. I never should have come. I thought I could finally get some answers about Josh, and make Mother see sense, but it’s – it’s just not worth it. Nothing is. I swore when I left – after what I knew she had done to Josh – that I wouldn’t come back, and I should never have broken my vow.’
‘But you wanted to see Theodora,’ I said. ‘You couldn’t stay away from her.’
I looked at Daniel and saw a person who felt utterly abandoned, by his best friend and by his mother. And although the dead are dead, and will never come back, you never quite lose the flame of hope in your soul where living parents are concerned. I know this perfectly well. No matter how dreadful they are in reality, the vision never stops rising up that one day they will come to you with their hands held out and apologize for every wrong they ever did you, if only you could discover what to say to turn the key to their heart.
‘I didn’t want to be right about Josh,’ said Daniel. ‘I was hoping she’d tell me I was making it up.’
‘She didn’t,’ said Daniel. ‘I went to her about it, and she just smiled up at me with that – that inscrutable look she puts on. And she said, “Some unpleasant things are necessary, Daniel. You mustn’t think of it any more. Go to bed.” It was – it was monstrous! I couldn’t believe it.’
‘So this was last night?’ asked Daisy. ‘What time? Hurry up! Come on!’
‘I – before that idiotic ritual of hers.’
‘No, it wasn’t,’ said Daisy silkily. ‘I was watching her last night – policewomen are always watching, you know. She went straight from dinner to the ritual – the ritual that you interrupted the end of. She asked you to come and speak to her later – so, did you? Did you come back while she was alone in her room, after Heppy and Miss Bartleby had left?’
‘I – I – no! This was earlier, I tell you!’ Daniel stuttered.
‘You’re quite clearly lying. You said she was looking up at you. Was she in bed when you spoke to her? Did you kill her? Did you make her pay for what she did to Joshua?’
‘No!’ gasped Daniel. ‘All right, it was in her cabin. I waited until Heppy and Miss Bartleby had gone, and that Mr Young fellow had stopped wandering around, and I went in to see her.’
‘What time was that?’ I asked.
‘About – oh, about half past twelve, I suppose. I spoke to her, she said those things to me – she didn’t even get out of bed – and then I left. I was quite done with her. But I didn’t kill her. How dare you suggest it! You’re just children – I won’t stand for this any longer!’
And with that he leaped up off his chair and stormed out of the saloon.
‘Well,’ said Daisy, after a pause, ‘I would say that was quite interesting, don’t you think?’
‘He didn’t have blood on his slippers this morning,’ I said, remembering.
‘Yes, but that doesn’t mean anything. He might have been barefoot, or committed the murder in another pair. We know he was on the spot last night, Hazel – he really might have murdered her!’
12
Mr Young was next – for we had agreed that we should speak to everyone who had been on the saloon deck last night, and Mr Young had already given us some very useful evidence. He was a most frustrating interviewee, though. He repeated his story about seeing Heppy locked in, then said that afterwards he had returned to his room and gone to sleep. ‘I sleep lightly,’ he said vaguely. ‘I’m sure I heard someone running about on the deck several times in the night. I thought it might be robbers, so I locked my door from the inside.’
Did he know Theodora and the Breath of Life before this journey? No, he had never heard of them. ‘I don’t think they know much about ancient Egypt,’ he said. I glanced up at Alexander, behind him, and saw him grin. I covered my mouth to hide my smile.
It was clear that Mr Young was quite uninterested in the Breath of Life, and quite unable to help any more. We sent him away and called in Miss Beauvais. But Miss Beauvais, when we tried to question her, simply wept and shook her head. She was no use at all.
After her – and I quailed at this – were my family.
The thought of speaking to my father about the murder made me feel prickly all over. I put out my hand to squeeze Daisy’s shoulder. She turned to look at me.
‘Buck up, Watson,’ she murmured. ‘Remember, you are terribly important, and you can deal with anything. And now do look serious, will you?’
I took a deep breath and pulled my spine up straight, shoulders back, trying to make my body look as though it knew exactly what it was doing. It is hard for me to do this, still – even years of friendship with Daisy, and training at Deepdean and the Rue Theatre, have not been enough to truly make me confident. I still feel as if I am acting a part, and not acting it very well. I am privately convinced that one day I will be found out.
I looked at Daisy, chin up, neck straight, eyes a little veiled by her lashes, every inch a golden heroine, and for a moment felt quite desperately inadequate.
But then – well, then I remembered what I have learned since I first arrived in England. There is no one way for a heroine to look or be, whether or not Daisy herself will ever accept that.
So, by the time my father came into the room, I had put all my silly thoughts out of my head. I was ready to show him how grown-up I really was these days.
May came rushing in first, as always, Rose behind her with my father. I looked at Rose’s serious little face, the way she was glancing up at him, and realized something about my little sister that I ought to have seen before. I had thought she was being timid and bookish, so far away from home, but it was not that at all. Rose was trying to keep close to Father to take care of him. She was only afraid of what might happen to him, not of what might happen to herself.
And I felt guilty. Looking after my father should be my job. I should be looking after them all – being the good eldest daughter – but instead I was off helping Daisy with this case.
‘I’m sorry!’ I said, startling everyone.
‘Hum!’ said my father. ‘You should be. I lied for you, Wong Fung Ying – I lied to adults! I hope you have a good solution to this awful business, otherwise we shall all look very foolish.’
‘I think Hazel’s amazing!’ said May.
‘And as for you, Wong Mei Li, do not speak any more! You’ve already been naughty enough. Getting away from me three times! At least I have one dutiful daughter,’ my father said, putting his heavy hand on Rose’s shoulder. Rose stared up at him anxiously, and then at me.
‘Father, we only need to ask you if you saw or heard anything last night,’ I said. ‘You or Rose.’
‘Why not May?’ asked my father suspiciously. ‘Has she already told you? Has she been helping you? Hazel, you promised!’
‘No, no, I – I didn’t ask her to! But she did tell me, and it was very helpful. Father, she proved that no one on our side of the saloon deck could have committed the murder – she gave you an alibi!’
‘WELL!’ said my father. ‘I suppose that’s not a bad thing. But, May, you will be in very deep trouble once we are back on dry land.’
‘Yes, Father,’ said May happily.
‘Now, Rose, can you help Hazel in any way?’ asked my father. ‘Hazel, once your sisters were in their cabin, I read for twenty minutes and then fell asleep. I don’t believe I heard anything or saw anything that might be relevant, I’m sorry.’
‘I – er – no, nothing,’ said Rose.
‘Are you sure, Ling Ling?’ I asked.
Rose blushed. ‘Will I get in trouble?’
My father sighed. ‘No, you will not be in trouble, Rose,’ he said.
‘Oh. Then I saw May go out of our room. She thought I was asleep, but I wasn’t. I woke up because she bumped into my bed. She was taking all her blankets with her.’
‘Hah!’ said May to herself crossly. I could tell that she would not make the same mistake twice.
‘Anyway, I couldn’t get back to sleep properly after that,’ said Rose. ‘I was worried about her. In Peril in the Winter Term, a girl crept out of her dorm at night and got pneumonia and almost died. I knew May was out on the deck, so I kept watching her. Every time I heard a noise, I’d go and look out, to make sure no one else was there. But it was only her, every time.’
I beamed. May’s story had been helpful – but here was the final confirmation of it. ‘Brilliant, Rose!’ I cried.
Rose blushed. ‘I did hear some other sounds, from the other side of the boat,’ she said. ‘Once or twice. Just little bumps and thumps. I thought someone might have fallen over their slippers on the way to get a glass of water, something like that. But it wasn’t May, so it didn’t worry me. I went back to sleep.’
‘What time were the sounds?’ I asked eagerly.
‘One was at half past twelve, and another was around two,’ said Rose. ‘I remember I looked at the clock on the wall both times. That’s all I know, though.’
‘T
hat’s more than enough!’ said Daisy. ‘Really! The Wong family are the most excellent witnesses.’
And both May and Rose smiled at that. Despite himself, even my father looked pleased.
‘May I have a moment with my daughter?’ Father asked, as May and Rose turned to go.
‘Oooh, Big Sister, you’re in trouble!’ May whispered to me. Father glared her into silence and motioned me outside. I took a deep breath of river air, squinting against the afternoon sun. I felt suddenly utterly terrified. I could not look Father in the face.
‘Wong Fung Ying, stop staring at your feet,’ said my father crossly. ‘Are you May’s age?’ And then, in a softer voice, he added, ‘Hazel, I am not going to tell you off. You aren’t a child any more. I only want to ask you – are you sure you know what you’re doing? Are you sure this is right? I worry for you, my good girl.’
I looked up then, the light and the water splitting and dazzling in my eyes, and saw him frowning, his face creased with concern. ‘I think so,’ I said. ‘I don’t know, but we have to do it. No one else will.’
My father sighed and put his hand on my shoulder. ‘You know, I never thought you’d be the one to give me trouble. May, absolutely, but you – you were always so quiet, before I sent you off to England! But I suppose I should have known. You are too much like me sometimes. If you’re sure what you’re doing is right, you’ll never give up. And you’re sure.’
‘I am,’ I said, nodding up at him.
‘Well then,’ said my father, ‘that’s all I wanted to know.’
13
Miss Doggett was our last suspect, and she came into the saloon with an angry look on her face. She did not like that she had been kept waiting.
‘Welcome,’ said Daisy, as sonorous as a bell – and, of course, I knew then that she had kept Miss Doggett until last on purpose.
‘Hello again, Miss Wells,’ said Miss Doggett, glaring. ‘Hello, Miss Wong.’
Death Sets Sail Page 17