by Evelyn James
“You will stay there!” He commanded fiercely.
Elias and Simon wandered over to their father and watched the scene that was unfolding with curious, but cautious gazes. Arthur Noble looked stunned.
“You can’t…”
“I can!” Captain O’Harris did not allow his argument any room. “You are an obnoxious old man, who doesn’t care about anyone but himself. You have tried my patience long enough. Your unfortunate secretary of many years standing may be on the cusp of death and you bark orders at her from over a ship’s rail? What sort of man are you?”
Arthur Noble stuttered out nothing in particular, the noise that came from his lips was more of a burble. He didn’t know how to respond. O’Harris had said his piece and now he was done. He glanced at Elias and Simon, stood just to his side.
“Make sure he stays here,” he told them. “If he isn’t careful, one of the guests he has managed to offend this evening might just help him topple over the rail.”
Simon’s mouth almost twitched into a smirk at the joke. Elias looked more serious. O’Harris left them and returned to Clara.
The scene in the water had moved on. The lifeboat had been gently manoeuvred until it was almost right next to Miss Dodd’s head. Captain Pevsner was leaning over and threading a rope over Miss Dodd’s shoulders.
“Slip your arm through it!” He told her, his voice firm but kind, unlike that of Arthur Noble.
Miss Dodd obeyed slowly. It was plain she was struggling to command her body. Her arm went through the rope and Captain Pevsner tightened it. Now she was secure. He gave the rope to one of his crewmen to hold and then reached over the side of the boat once more to lift out Miss Dodd. The rope prevented her from being pushed under by accident. Pevsner slipped his arms under hers and started the awkward task of drawing her body from the water. Miss Dodd flopped like a rag doll and it was obvious she could offer her rescuers no assistance as she was manhandled into the boat. The process seemed to last forever but, finally, Miss Dodd was in the lifeboat and blankets were being hastily thrown around her.
“All haste back to the Mary Jane,” Pevsner told his men and the lifeboat was once more being vigorously rowed, this time back towards the ship.
Clara let out a breath she had not realised she was holding. Charles Walsh looked fit to burst into tears. He glanced at Clara, his fears etched on his face.
“She threw herself over,” he whispered. “I couldn’t tell Mr Noble that. It would shame Miss Dodd, but I know she threw herself over.”
Clara touched his arm, trying to express what little comfort she could offer him.
“Because of Henry Kemp?” She suggested.
Charles Walsh seemed to wince, then he nodded.
“She hasn’t been right since his body was found. I know it was a shock to us all, but she took it very hard. But I still never thought…” Charles’ eyes welled with tears. “Excuse me.”
He disappeared swiftly. Clara let him go.
“I hope Miss Dodd is all right,” Clara said to O’Harris.
She glanced along the rail to the point where the lifeboat was being hauled up again. Winches were being operated as fast as they could to bring the rescuers and Miss Dodd level with the deck. The ship’s doctor was hovering nearby.
Clara walked forward, not wanting to interfere, yet needing to see for herself that Miss Dodd was still alive. If it was true that Miss Dodd had thrown herself overboard, and it was not a tragic accident, then Clara had underestimated the woman’s strength of feeling towards Henry Kemp. Clara did not like it when she missed things, especially when it could cost someone their life.
The lifeboat was now slightly higher than the ship’s rail and it was possible to swing it inwards and bring it down on the deck. Miss Dodd was a shivering lump in the middle of the little boat, the blankets wrapped so completely about her that only her head appeared. She was white as a sheet and her teeth chattered audibly. The ship’s doctor leaned into the boat and gave her a sip of brandy from a flask he had brought with him. Two crewmen were waiting with a stretcher nearby.
Miss Dodd was gently helped from the lifeboat. As the only other woman present, Clara drew close to her for moral support. When she offered Miss Dodd her hand the woman took it at once. She looked at her plaintively, but for the moment could not speak.
Still holding Clara’s hand, Miss Dodd was laid on the stretcher and covered with more blankets. The doctor rubbed at her free hand, trying to bring some warmth back to it.
“Let’s get her to the sick bay.”
Miss Dodd was carried carefully down below. She arrived at the sick bay unscathed, but was drifting into unconsciousness.
“Keep with me,” the doctor commanded her urgently.
Clara squeezed Miss Dodd’s hand.
“Come now, you mustn’t fall asleep. You have to tell me what this is all about.”
Miss Dodd wearily opened her eyes and looked at Clara. She seemed exhausted, her hand no longer gripped Clara’s firmly. She was slipping away.
“Poor Henry,” she whispered so softly only Clara could hear, and even then she had to lean close to Miss Dodd’s mouth as she spoke. “I can’t… not without him…”
“Miss Dodd, you must remain strong. Henry would not want things to end like this,” Clara rubbed at Miss Dodd’s now limp hand.
“What… the point?” Miss Dodd mumbled.
She gave a deep sigh.
“You have to help me find Henry’s killer,” Clara begged her, hoping to resurrect her with her plea. “We must bring justice to Henry, mustn’t we?”
Miss Dodd’s eyes, now seemingly bleached of colour, fixed on Clara’s face and a trembling smile creased her lips.
“You must…” she said softly. “I have faith… in you…”
Miss Dodd took another deep breath and her eyes closed. She exhaled and then stillness came over her.
“Miss Dodd?” Clara rubbed at the woman’s hand desperately. “Miss Dodd?”
The ship’s doctor walked back over and looked at the prone woman. He felt for a pulse, then produced a stethoscope and listened to her chest for a heartbeat. He glanced up at Clara. He did not need to say anything.
Clara put down Miss Dodd’s hand and felt momentarily defeated. What was it about Henry Kemp that had led to this awful chain of events? She left the sick bay feeling hollow inside. She had liked Miss Dodd and the woman had wanted to help. When Clara could not provide the evidence that would place Simon Noble in shackles, had Miss Dodd felt everything was over? Clara felt troubled by it all, but she also felt resolved. She was not going to let this case rest. She would find out why Henry Kemp had to die, and she would make sure Simon Noble faced justice.
Chapter Eighteen
The party was at an end. While most of the guests were unaware that Miss Dodd had passed away, the escapade in the water had dampened their spirits. It was late, and the night seemed to be getting colder and colder. The band had been instructed to play on until one o’clock, but they had lost their enthusiasm too. Without prompting, the party-goers drifted back to their cabins.
Captain O’Harris walked with Clara to her cabin, his was just next door, but he loitered with at her doorway.
“Are you all right?”
“It should never have happened,” Clara said softly, her head turned away from him. One hand pressed into the side of the door frame as if holding onto it for support. “I failed Miss Dodd. She had banked everything on my finding proof Simon Noble had killed Henry Kemp in his cabin.”
“You found the bloody shirt,” O’Harris pointed out.
“Yet it was still not enough,” Clara groaned a little to herself. “I do not have enough to warrant arresting Simon Noble. Miss Dodd must have realised that. I doubt he kept his mouth shut when he came back on deck. He would have confronted her over the spare cabin key. Miss Dodd was placed in a position of losing of her job along with losing the man she clearly cared for deeply. I think it all became too much for her and she threw her
self overboard.”
“That isn’t your fault,” O’Harris said gently. “You cannot make evidence appear out of thin air, she knew the risks when she gave you the key. There is only one person to blame for all this and he will certainly not be feeling any guilt tonight.”
Captain O’Harris pulled a face.
“I know his type. They bludgeon their way through life, unconscious of those they knock down along the way. Simon Noble no more cares that Miss Dodd threw herself overboard because of his actions, than he cares that he killed Henry Kemp.”
“I wish I knew why he had done it,” Clara’s self-pity was slowing disappearing to be replaced by her usual resolve. Clara did not like introspection, she liked action. “That is surely the key to this puzzle; knowing why Henry Kemp had to die.”
“I have a feeling the answer to that is not aboard this ship,” Captain O’Harris tapped his fingers on the wooden wall of the corridor where he stood, a thoughtful frown coming onto his face. “Are you going to pursue this?”
“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t,” Clara told him firmly. “Miss Dodd put her faith in me to discover the truth. I can’t let her down. I can’t see a murderer walk free. When I close my eyes I see that horrid smirk on Simon Noble’s face again and again. He thinks he has defeated me and that alone makes me determined to prove him wrong.”
Clara’s words were certain and calm, her melancholy had evaporated. Captain O’Harris was satisfied.
“Best we both get some sleep then Clara, goodnight.”
“Goodnight, John,” Clara smiled at him. “It’s been one heck of an evening.”
“I look forward to witnessing the rest of the investigation,” O’Harris said with a wink of his eye.
They both entered their cabins. Clara threw herself down on her bunk, casting off her shoes which had pinched and nipped her feet all night. She drew in a deep breath and then exhaled it slowly. She was going to wipe that smirk off Simon Noble’s face. Just let him wait and see.
~~~*~~~
They arrived back in the harbour just after seven the following morning. The police were waiting for them. As the gangplank was dropped and a handful of early bird guests started to descend, Inspector Park-Coombs walked up and ushered them back aboard. Captain Pevsner looked pained.
“Inspector, surely not every guest must remain aboard?” He asked miserably.
“No one is leaving until I know what went on. I shall need statements from everyone. For most of your passengers that will be a mere formality,” Inspector Park-Coombs informed him with a look upon his face that indicated he would take no argument on the matter.
He stationed a police constable at the top of the gangplank to prevent anyone leaving.
“What is this Pevsner?” A man in a day suit began to protest. He had his luggage in his hands and his wife at his side. “Why are the police here?”
Captain Pevsner didn’t know how to answer. His hope of keeping the matter quiet from the majority of the guests was now dashed. Inspector Park-Coombs looked at him with a hint of sympathy. He was not that hard a man.
“Best you put out a ship-wide announcement,” he suggested.
Captain Pevsner looked defeated. He shuffled away the early guests from the gangplank, promising them a full breakfast in compensation for the delay, and explaining in as brief detail as possible what had occurred the night before.
Clara appeared through a door and nodded to Inspector Park-Coombs. The inspector was a wily and clever detective, and he had worked with Clara successfully in the past. They both knew they benefited from the different styles of investigating they could bring to a case. Park-Coombs twitched his moustache and smiled at Clara.
“Have you not solved it already?” He teased.
“Actually, I have,” Clara replied, a slightly satisfied smile coming onto her face. “I know who killed Henry Kemp, I just can’t prove it.”
“You best fill me in,” Inspector Park-Coombs walked towards her. “You have clearly had several hours head start.”
“The disadvantage of that is I have barely slept a wink,” Clara started to yawn as she spoke. “I woke up at six and couldn’t get back to sleep. I’ve been waiting for your arrival ever since. Captain Pevsner has allowed us the use of his personal cabin and I have something I need to show you.”
Clara turned and indicated the inspector should follow. She explained the events of the previous evening as they walked through the ship. The inspector asked questions here and there, but mainly nodded and listened. By the time they were at the captain’s cabin he knew as much as Clara did.
“And, as far as you have been able to determine there was no reason for anyone to wish Henry Kemp harm?” He asked, shutting the cabin door behind him.
“No one has offered a reason,” Clara agreed.
“But Simon Noble seems the obvious culprit,” Park-Coombs ran his thumb over his moustache. “Hard to imagine there was time for someone else to murder Mr Kemp and leave before Simon Noble found him, and then this lad Bert Nightly spotted him.”
“Oh, I am certain Simon Noble is the killer. His behaviour makes no sense otherwise. Any innocent person who stumbled over a person they worked with stabbed like that would have summoned help. Simon Noble did not. He left Henry Kemp where he was and pretended nothing had happened,” Clara unlocked Captain Pevsner’s safe with the key he had left in her keeping. She removed the shirt, still damp, and placed it on the table in the room. “Any innocent person would surely be horrified by what they saw. But Simon Noble was calculating. He left the scene and changed his shirt. He then attempted to wash the blood stains out, unsuccessfully as you can see. He returned to the party without a hint of what he had witnessed and when I began inquiring about Henry he made no indication that he was aware of what had happened. His attitude and actions speak for themselves. He is also smart enough to know that this shirt alone only proves he was present at the scene of the crime. Without a reliable witness who saw him stab Henry, or a strong reason for him to wish him harm, I am afraid there is nothing to convict him with.”
The inspector examined the sleeves of the shirt carefully.
“You are right Clara,” he said at last. “You have a bloody shirt and a young boy who saw Simon Noble near the body. It is not enough. A clever solicitor would tear such a flimsy case to shreds.”
“I am not finished with Simon Noble,” Clara said darkly. “He is a murderer and I intend to prove it. If you are amenable to me continuing to poke around? No one has hired me in this matter. I would be doing it for my own sake and for the sake of justice.”
“And because Simon Noble annoys you?” Park-Coombs suggested with a hint of a grin.
“I don’t let personal feelings cloud my judgement,” Clara said, somewhat affronted. The inspector continued to grin at her. “Oh, all right, so maybe I was rather offended by Simon Noble’s attitude towards me. He seems to think he has won and that a woman can’t do anything to change that.”
“Good for us we know he is very wrong,” Park-Coombs placated her. “Now, this mystery witness you haven’t been able to track down, what of them?”
“I thought at first they might have been the killer,” Clara admitted. “They were down below at the same time as Henry Kemp. It is only a vague hope that they might have seen something. I’ve tried to work out the timings, but it is all rather hazy what with the drama of the mine. Ronnie, one of the crew, was trying to keep an eye on Henry Kemp. About the time the mine was being shot at, Kemp headed downstairs. Ronnie followed but became distracted by finding the ship’s cat. Now, he also saw a shadow that suggested someone else was down below. Probably a crewman, but I have been unable to confirm that every guest, barring Kemp, was in a lifeboat.
“By the time Ronnie was back on deck the mine had been exploded and the lifeboats were being called back. The lifeboat containing Simon Noble was one of the first to return. He climbed out and went looking for Kemp, who was still in the kitchen down below. I don�
�t know how long that took him.”
“And this other person down below may or may not have witnessed what happened next,” Park-Coombs saw the problem with this assumption. “But no one is admitting to being that third person down below.”
“No,” Clara shrugged her shoulders. “All we know is that Ronnie thought he glimpsed someone. He might be wrong.”
“Then we are left with one option – find a strong motive for Simon Noble to want Henry Kemp dead. If we have that, then everything else will fall into place.”
“Still circumstantial,” Clara pointed out.
“I’ve convicted on less,” Park-Coombs was unfazed. “Most murders are not witnessed, after all. You rely on proving the suspect wanted the person dead and some evidence to back up that they were in the right place at the right time. What about this Miss Dodd?”
Clara closed her eyes for a moment. She had dreamed of Miss Dodd in the water. Clara had been trying to reach her in a boat, but every time she drew near Miss Dodd drifted further away.
“She threw herself overboard,” Clara said at last.
“And you are sure it was because she was heartbroken over Henry Kemp’s death?”
Clara was thrown by the question. She had never doubted the reason for Miss Dodd’s dramatic tumble.
“What are you saying?”
“The timings are hazy,” Park-Coombs repeated what she had said earlier. “Simon Noble and Jane Dodd were in the same lifeboat. If he went looking for Henry Kemp, then why not her also? And what if she found Henry first?”
Clara had never considered Miss Dodd a suspect. She had spoken to the woman personally and seen her grief. Had that blinded her? Could Miss Dodd have thrown herself into the ocean because of guilt rather than grief?
“I hadn’t considered that,” Clara admitted.
“We have to keep open all possibilities. I agree that Simon Noble seems the most likely culprit, but I like to work through other options, just in case. I’ve been in court enough times to know that a good solicitor will dig holes in a case by suggesting other suspects, and if you can’t explain definitively why those others could not have committed the crime, you risk the jury starting to consider reasonable doubt.”
