‘I wonder how things are at home.’
She smiled. ‘I’m sure Prasanna and Nadar are getting along fine without you.’
‘Not too well, I hope. And my dahlias. The shoots are still very tender. Snails are bound to eat them if Anif isn’t watchful.’
‘I expect he will be. Anif’s a good worker. I’m sure he’s taking great care of your beloved car too.’
He smiled. ‘Funny to think that if we’d chosen a later passage, we’d never have heard of Charles Pashley. We might have spent the time relaxing and enjoying ourselves.’
‘It would have been nice, but never mind.’
They gazed at the view and chatted, until Jane shivered and wrapped her cashmere shawl tighter around herself. ‘I’m starting to feel a little chilly now. It must be past midnight. Shall we go in?’
As they turned away from the rail, a door banged, and they saw that a woman had come out on deck. She started to pace up and down, her arms clasped across her chest and her head bowed, as if she was deeply distressed. Jane strained her eyes to see in the dim light.
‘That’s Barbara Ross,’ she whispered with a puzzled frown. ‘I wonder what she’s doing out here by herself at this hour? She looks very upset. Should we go over to her? Or do you think she’d rather be left alone?’
De Silva shrugged. ‘I’m no expert in these matters, my love. I leave that to you.’
Barbara Ross had stopped by a door some way off from the one through which she had come out on deck.
‘Oh dear,’ Jane whispered again. ‘I don’t know where that door leads. What if she gets lost again? We may have to follow her after all.’
Opening the door, Barbara Ross walked through it. Jane went to follow her, then there was a scream. Barbara Ross emerged and stumbled to the rail. Afraid she might come to harm, de Silva hurried over to her. As he caught her arm, she turned a stricken face towards him before crumpling to the deck in a dead faint.
Jane was by his side. ‘I’ll stay with her. You go and find help.’
Inside, de Silva collided with a steward coming from the direction of the Tourist Class bar. He sent the man to fetch Doctor Brady, then returned to the deck.
Standing on the threshold of the small space Barbara Ross had so hastily left, he noticed a sickly, metallic smell. When his eyes became accustomed to the darkness inside, he made out that what she had found was a storeroom with lifejackets and wooden boxes stacked against the walls. But it was the other thing that the storeroom contained that made his heartbeat quicken.
Lying on his back in a pool of his own blood, was Harry Delaney; the dress shirt that should have been white was crimson. His eyes were open, and his mouth gaped. De Silva went in and crouched beside him. Automatically, he felt for a pulse, although he was already sure there was no possibility of the singer still being alive. Delaney’s skin was clammy and cold.
A voice behind him made him start. Looking round, he saw a young officer. His face was pale. ‘Is he dead, sir?’
‘I’m afraid so. There’s nothing we can do for him, but the lady who found him needs help. I’ve already sent a steward for Doctor Brady, and I’d like you to notify Captain McDowell and Mr William Petrie.’
‘Right away, sir.’
The young officer hurried off, and de Silva stood up. He saw that Barbara Ross had regained consciousness, and Jane had helped her to a chair. He went over to them.
‘Is it Delaney?’ asked Jane.
‘Yes; dead, I’m afraid. Stabbed in the neck.’
‘Oh, how dreadful.’
‘I’ve sent for Doctor Brady, and that young officer’s gone to notify Petrie.’
Jane took off her cashmere shawl and wrapped it around Barbara Ross’s shoulders. She was shivering violently, but de Silva saw beads of sweat on her forehead.
‘The doctor’s coming,’ Jane said soothingly. ‘And we’ll get you something hot to drink.’
‘All that blood… I wasn’t expecting…’ Barbara Ross clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘I’m going to be sick!’
Quickly, Jane helped her to the rail.
By the time the nausea had passed, Doctor Brady arrived. He carried his black bag and wore jacket and trousers, but a glimpse of striped pyjamas showed at the end of the jacket sleeves. With Jane’s help, he walked Barbara Ross back to her chair, then crouched down beside her for a few moments, talking to her quietly.
‘My nurse will be here soon,’ he said when he stood up. ‘She’ll take Mrs Ross to lie down in the infirmary until she’s fully recovered. Would you be so kind as to stay with her until then, Mrs de Silva?’
Jane nodded.
Brady went over to Delaney’s body and studied it. ‘Who’s this, de Silva?’
‘Harry Delaney. He was a singer with the entertainment crew.’
‘Ah, I heard something about one of the crew going missing, but I didn’t pay much attention. So, this is him, eh?’
‘Yes.’
He bent down for a closer look at the body then straightened up. ‘If you’ve no objection, I’ll make arrangements for it to be removed immediately. I’m sure the captain won’t want passengers alarmed. Is he aware of what’s happened?’
‘I’ve sent someone to inform him, and William Petrie too.’
‘Good. Lucky there’s room for another body in our little improvised mortuary.’ He beckoned to the young officer. ‘Get a stretcher from the infirmary and find someone to help you carry the body. We’d better get on with it.’
**
‘What do you think about the time of death, Brady?’ asked Petrie.
‘At least twelve hours ago. When was he reported missing?’
‘Yesterday.’
‘Then it may be longer. What’s the place where he was found used for?’
‘Storing emergency flares, and spare lifejackets for anyone who wouldn’t have time to return to their cabins in the event of an emergency,’ said de Silva.
Petrie looked down at the marble slab where Delaney lay. ‘When did anyone last go in there?’
‘Regrettably, not during the search. The chief purser admitted it was treated as a low priority because of what it was used for.’
The contents of Delaney’s pockets lay on a shelf nearby: a wallet, some loose change, a handkerchief, his crew pass, a ring, and a small pouch of white powder. De Silva sniffed the powder. Chemical with a trace of sweetness. He recognised it from his Colombo days.
‘What is it?’ asked Petrie.
‘Cocaine.’
‘So, our Mr Delaney had his vices.’
‘It appears so.’
Petrie picked up the ring and turned it round, studying it. It was engraved with two interlaced Vs.
‘I think we’ll take this with us and show it to Mrs de Vere,’ he said.
There was a knock at the door and the nurse de Silva had seen before came in.
‘How’s Mrs Ross?’ asked Petrie.
‘She’s better now, sir.’
‘I instructed Nurse Forbes here to give the lady something to calm her,’ said Brady. ‘Not surprising she was upset. Not many women, or men for that matter, would behave with equanimity in such circumstances.’
‘Has her husband been informed?’
Brady looked at Nurse Forbes.
‘Yes, Doctor Brady. He’s coming shortly. He had to be woken up.’
‘Hm,’ said the doctor. ‘He must be a sound sleeper if he didn’t notice his wife had gone.’
**
Barbara Ross’s face was red and blotchy from crying. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said shakily. ‘I’m being such a baby. That poor man. It’s just it was so horrible, and I wasn’t expecting it.’
‘There’s no need to apologise, my dear,’ said Jane. ‘You’ve had a very nasty shock.’
Barbara Ross tried to sit up but fell back on the pillow again. ‘Oh dear, I feel rather woozy.’
‘If you don’t mind my asking, why were you wandering around the ship on your own so late in the evening?’
&n
bsp; ‘I feel so stupid. James and I had a silly argument earlier on. I’m afraid he gets very bell… bell…’ She hiccoughed and started to cry again.
‘Belligerent?’
‘Yes. When he’s had too much to drink, you know? I should never have let it spoil the lovely time we’ve been having, but after he went to sleep, I couldn’t settle. I thought a walk around the deck might help, so I dressed and went out. But then I got in a muddle and lost my way.’
A look of alarm came over her face. ‘Have they told James where I am?’
‘Yes. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.’
Barbara Ross hid her face in her hands. ‘He’ll be furious with me,’ she said miserably.
‘Everything’s been explained to him. I think it’s more likely he’ll be relieved that you’re unharmed.’
There were voices outside. Barbara Ross stiffened. ‘That’s him now.’
Accompanied by Doctor Brady, James Ross came into the room.
‘Your wife has had a very unpleasant experience,’ Brady was saying. ‘I’ve prescribed rest for a day or two. You might both prefer to keep to your cabin. I fear there may be rumours after this. With the shock she’s had, I don’t recommend exposing her to the distress of facing the curiosity of other passengers.’
He stood aside, and Ross came forward to put his arms around his wife. She rested her head against his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry,’ Jane heard him mutter.
She saw Doctor Brady smile in her direction and nodded. ‘We’ll leave the two of you in peace,’ she said.
Chapter 16
Captain McDowell’s eyebrows almost met in the middle. With his first officer in charge on the bridge, he had hoped for a peaceful night. ‘It’s imperative this is hushed up,’ he growled. ‘The owners will be furious if there’s more damage done to their ship’s reputation. One murder on board’s serious enough, but two…’
De Silva buried the thought that the last thing the murderer, or murderers, were likely to be concerned about was the profits of the owners of the Blue Star Line. Instead, he adopted a solemn expression and did his best to help William Petrie reassure his old shipmate that every effort would be made to conduct the investigation discreetly.
‘Not an easy task, I admit,’ said McDowell, calming a little.
‘Who would be able to tell us more about Delaney?’ asked Petrie.
McDowell shrugged. ‘I’ve had no dealings with him. The best man to speak to will be the chief purser. He’s in overall charge of the entertainment side. He may be able to direct you to other members of the crew it would be worth your while talking to.’
‘Thank you. We’ll leave you to your well-deserved night’s rest.’
‘Keep me informed of developments, won’t you?’
‘Of course.’
‘Oh, and by the way, I’ve decided to hold Pashley’s body on the ship until we reach Port Said. You can tell Brady the same goes for Delaney.’
**
‘Poor chap,’ remarked Petrie as they left McDowell’s cabin. ‘It’s hardly his fault that there’ve been two murders on board. But although you and I see that, the owners may take a different view if their profits are adversely affected. The sooner we get to the bottom of this, the better. What do you suggest?’
De Silva pondered. ‘I think we should sleep on it, sir,’ he said after a few moments. ‘Questioning any of the crew or the passengers so late at night’s bound to cause comment. If it’s not been done yet, I’ll ensure that the storeroom’s secured from prying eyes.’
Petrie looked at his wristwatch. ‘You’re right. It’s nearly three o’clock in the morning. When you’re done, get some sleep. We’ll meet in my cabin later.’
**
‘Oh Shanti, you look worn out.’
When he returned from making sure that the storeroom door was shut and padlocked, he found Jane in their cabin.
‘I am tired, but you must be too.’
He sank into an armchair, stretched his legs as far as they would go and let his eyes close.
‘Your shoes have blood on them, dear,’ said Jane. ‘Take them off and I’ll wipe them for you.’
‘I’m not surprised. That storeroom was very small, and it was all over the floor. If the murderer was expecting that, I imagine they took the precaution of wearing top clothes they could dispose of over the side along with the murder weapon.’
‘Will you do anything more tonight?’
He shook his head. ‘Captain McDowell made it very clear he doesn’t want this to get out. That will be difficult, of course, but if we start our investigations late at night, we may as well turn on the loudspeaker system and make a public announcement. Fortunately, we still have many miles of sea on our side. If anyone wants to leave the ship before Suez and Port Said, they’ll have to be very good at swimming.’
‘Do you think Mrs de Vere did it? Should you question her again? And what about Betty Falconer? She might have more to tell us.’
De Silva yawned. ‘It all needs thinking about, but I doubt Venetia de Vere would have stabbed Delaney. Petrie and I saw her on deck one day making a tremendous fuss about a bit of blood when a steward cut his hand.’
‘That does make it seem unlikely she’s the murderer. Who else might have wanted Delaney dead?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know, and my head’s as heavy as an elephant. Time for bed. There’ll be a lot to do later.’
Chapter 17
In the way he wished it would more often, sleep ironed out the creases in de Silva’s brain. When he woke, he knew what he must do next.
An enquiry about the man who had filled the steward, Chung’s, post brought an assurance from the chief purser that he was reliable.
‘He’s worked on this ship for many years, Inspector. Never put a foot wrong. He’s elderly, so tends to be given lighter duties, and ones he can perform during the daytime, but we needed someone who was absolutely trustworthy.’
De Silva thought, but refrained from remarking, that all the crew ought to be trustworthy. ‘Where is he now?’
‘He may be resting after his night shift.’
‘All the same, I’d like to speak to him. Would you fetch him, please?’
The elderly Malay who stood before him a little while later exuded an air of unruffled composure. Under his white turban, his gentle brown eyes gazed out at the world calmly. De Silva had the impression that Ahmad wasn’t a man who was interested in idle gossip.
As de Silva asked him about the comings and goings of the passengers on his corridor on the nights since Charles Pashley’s death, he listened attentively and didn’t answer for several moments. When at last he spoke, it was in a deep, rumbling voice. If the information he gave was correct, and de Silva was impressed with his powers of recall, nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Once the passengers had returned from dinner, none of them had gone out again. In fact, Venetia de Vere had taken many of her meals in her cabin and yesterday hadn’t left it at all.
What conclusion was to be drawn from that? Thanking Ahmad for his help and sending him back to his rest, de Silva pondered this development. If Venetia de Vere hadn’t left her cabin, she couldn’t have gone to meet Harry Delaney in that storeroom, so who had? It didn’t remove the need to confront her, but for now, there was the pianist, Betty Falconer, to be questioned.
**
Betty Falconer was an attractive woman in her late thirties. She was clearly unnerved by the summons to the chief purser’s office, and de Silva resolved to do his best to put her at her ease.
‘No one is accusing you of anything,’ he said gently. ‘But we believe you may have information that is important to an investigation we’re conducting.’
The chief purser interrupted. ‘It’s a confidential matter, Miss Falconer. I trust we can rely on you not to repeat this conversation.’
‘Of course.’
‘You mentioned to a lady on board that the singer, Harry Delaney, was complaining of a passenger who was becoming an embarrassment
to him. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that everyone working on the ship is banned from fraternising with our guests in private—’
Betty Falconer flushed. ‘I’m not sure I should say… I might be wrong.’
‘I was going on to say, but on this occasion, I can promise you that nothing you tell me will go any further.’
She looked relieved. ‘Thank you. I wouldn’t want to get him into any trouble.’
‘Who is it, Miss Falconer?’ asked de Silva.
‘Must he find out it was me who told you?’
He gave her a kindly smile. ‘That won’t be necessary.’
She hesitated. ‘A lady called Venetia de Vere. At first, he boasted about how one of the wealthy passengers was besotted with him. He said it started not long after we left Hong Kong. After a while, it wasn’t hard to guess who he meant. I often play for the tea dances, and when Mrs de Vere attended, she always made a great fuss if he was already engaged to dance with someone else. When I teased him, he made a joke of it. Laughed about the presents she gave him and the money. He said it was pathetic the way she tried to buy his affection.’
What a charmer, thought de Silva. ‘Did he ever mention comments she made about any of the other passengers?’
‘I’m not sure. Oh yes, there was one. He said she complained a lot about one of the passengers whose cabin was near hers.’
‘Was the name Charles Pashley?’
She considered the question for a few moments then shook her neatly coiffured head. ‘I can’t say for certain. It might have been.’ She looked puzzled. ‘Why are you asking me these questions? Has something happened to Harry?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t divulge our reasons but thank you for your help.’
As the chief purser showed Betty Falconer out, de Silva reflected that it wasn’t going to be easy to keep this second murder a secret for long either.
‘I hope you learnt what you wanted, Inspector,’ the chief purser said when he’d closed the door. ‘A bad business this. Never known anything like it in all the years I’ve worked for the Blue Star Line.’
[Inspector de Silva 06] - Passage From Nuala Page 11
