by Blythe Baker
A narrow flight of stairs, painted white and labeled with a ‘Crew Only’ sign, were set into the far corner of the lobby just outside the dining room, and Colonel Stratton took the stairs two at a time. I followed behind him, moving up the stairs as quietly and as quickly as I could in my heels. I stopped in the middle of the stairwell, far enough down that Colonel Stratton could not see me from his place on the landing, but close enough that I could hear the four solid knocks he landed on the door at the top of the stairs.
“Open the door, you slimy weasel.” Colonel Stratton was pounding on the door with both fists now. It took several more seconds before the door finally opened.
“What in the name of—” Captain Croft’s voice was deep and shaken, but the Colonel’s shouting washed over everything, echoing off the metal walls.
“My wife died on your ship.”
“Colonel, I know you have suffered a tremendous loss,” Captain Croft said evenly, trying to reason with the enraged man.
But reason had no place in Colonel Stratton’s mind anymore. He was incensed. “You made eyes at her right in front of me, and then let her die on you ship. Something should have been done. There should have been more security. A woman shouldn’t have been able to sneak out of her room and wander the ship by herself,” he yelled.
“You are paying guests, not inmates,” the Captain said. “I can’t force anyone to stay in their rooms if they do not wish to do so. I am terribly sorry for your loss, and we are doing all we can to bring the culprit to justice.”
“Doing all you can,” the Colonel repeated with a scoff. “No one cares about my wife. Not now she is dead. You cared about her plenty last night, wooing her with talk of your travels and the great ships you’ve commanded. I’ve commanded armies!”
“You are distraught, Colonel. I sympathize with your loss and your pain, but if you don’t calm down, I will have to call security to come and take care of you.”
“I want financial restitution!”
“Excuse me?” Captain Croft asked.
“You said yourself that my wife was a paying guest. She did not live to receive her money’s worth, and I would like it returned to me.”
“I can’t do that—” the Captain began to say, but he was interrupted by the Colonel’s harsh whisper.
“Perhaps you were my wife’s murderer. You clearly took a fancy to her at dinner last night, and perhaps she refused to return your advances. And perhaps that made you angry.”
“Hey now,” Captain Croft protested.
Colonel Stratton continued as if the Captain hadn’t spoken at all. “And perhaps a little bit of money would keep me quiet about the whole thing. A captain accused of murdering one of his passengers certainly wouldn’t find much more work, not once the news began to spread,”
“That is quite enough!” Captain Croft said, having finally reached his breaking point. “I have indulged this for far too long. I understand you are grieving a major loss, but I can’t allow you to make such serious and baseless accusations against my character. I never touched your wife—for any reason.”
I heard the Colonel inhale as if ready to respond, but just as he did, wrapped up in the heated exchange as I was, I forgot myself and my foot slipped from the stair. The noise was slight, but it echoed off the walls, and I heard the two men go silent.
I was left with two options: run and hope I could make it down the stairs and around the corner before being detected, or stay put and try to make an excuse. I chose the latter.
Stomping up the remainder of the stairs as obviously as I could, I smiled as Colonel Stratton looked down at me. From my angle several stairs below him, his square jaw looked sharper and more threatening. And with his face as red as it was, I began to wonder whether I shouldn’t have run away. Still, I did my best to keep calm.
“Mr. Worthing has prepared you a breakfast plate and is on his way to your room as we speak,” I said. “I saw you heading up these stairs from my table at breakfast”—this distance would have provided enough time for the two men’s conversation to have been almost at its conclusion by the time I would have travelled from my seat to my current position on the stairs—"and thought I would come and warn you.”
The two men stared down at me blankly, unsure what to do with my sudden interruption. Captain Croft looked half-prepared to continue shouting at Colonel Stratton, and Colonel Stratton looked as though he had half a mind to shove me down the stairs.
“Good morning…Miss Beckingham, is it?” Captain Croft said, slightly unsure.
I nodded. “You have a good memory, Captain.”
The Colonel still hadn’t responded to my mention of breakfast, and I didn’t have any other reason to remain on the stairs, so I quickly bid them both farewell, and moved down the stairs and back into the now empty dining room. Servers in bright white uniforms were collecting plates and sweeping floors, and none of them paid me any attention at all, so I leaned against the far wall closest to the starboard deck.
I couldn’t be sure whether either the Captain or the Colonel had believed my hastily thought out excuse, but that didn’t seem to matter either way. At worst, they both thought I was too nosy for my own good. Unless, of course, Colonel Stratton’s theory had been correct. If the Captain’s advances towards Ruby Stratton had been spurned and he’d become angry enough to kill her, I could be in danger, as well. The Captain wouldn’t want that information getting out, and unlike Colonel Stratton, I wouldn’t be bought off.
That was another point of interest. Why would the Colonel be willing to accept money to remain quiet about his own wife’s murder? Wouldn’t he want her murderer brought to justice? For a man meant to be grieving his wife, he had seemed awfully concerned about his bottom line.
I leaned forward so I could see the stairwell through the dining room doorway. Colonel Stratton was just reaching the bottom of the stairs, his face and neck as red as a ripe tomato. Clearly, he had done a good deal more arguing after my departure. What I wouldn’t have given to know what the two men had discussed. The Colonel glanced around the lobby, eyeing a few giggling women as they walked from one side of the deck to the other, arms linked. He lowered his hat over his eyes, shoved his hands in his pockets, and stalked away.
“Oh, Rose, there you are.”
I turned to see Mrs. Worthing and Lady Dixon walking towards me, Jane trailing behind them, dragging her feet along the wood floor.
“You can help us search for Lady Dixon’s missing brooch,” Mrs. Worthing said.
I had no desire to help Lady Dixon with anything, as she had taken an instant and rather severe dislike to me, but I didn’t have an excuse. Mrs. Worthing knew I didn’t have any plans, as she had chastised me for being anti-social the night before when I’d told her I intended to do little more than lounge in one of the wicker deck chairs and read for the three-week voyage. And all of my quick thinking had been spent when I’d been caught by Colonel Stratton only a few minutes before on the stairs to the bridge.
“Of course,” I said, trying to muster as much cheer as I could.
Lady Dixon still offered me a scowl, and she and Mrs. Worthing charged ahead, leading Jane and I through the dining room and out onto the deck.
The day was bright and warm, with a crosswind that made all the men hold onto their hats and the women flatten down their skirts.
“Perhaps your brooch blew off deck,” Mrs. Worthing joked as her hair came loose from its twist and blew around her face. Her smile faltered when she noticed Lady Dixon was not even remotely amused. “Of course, I’m only teasing. We will find it, I’m sure.”
“You hear such horrible tales of the many things that go missing on a ship like this. Criminals steal whatever they can find in international waters, and then escape into a new country before they can be prosecuted. It’s horrible.” Lady Dixon clacked her tongue and shook her head, clutching her bag a little tighter to her chest than normal.
“There are downsides to travelling by ship,” Mrs. Worthing
agreed. “Though, you meet all manner of interesting people. For instance, we have become rather fast friends, haven’t we?”
Lady Dixon nodded her head noncommittally and straightened her shoulders so she stood slightly taller than Mrs. Worthing, as if her height alone could put the other woman in her place. “We ought to pay more mind to our surroundings and less to conversation,” she said.
Mrs. Worthing ran a finger over her lips to zip them, and set her eyes on the ground, searching from side to side in case the brooch happened to fall from Lady Dixon’s bag and roll under a deck chair.
“Do you remember when Lady Dixon last had her brooch?” I whispered to Jane.
She shook her head, but otherwise remained silent, her lips pressed resolutely together.
“This seems like a rather pointless endeavor,” I said, leaning down to ensure the two women in front of us didn’t overhear our conversation. “We won’t find such a small brooch on a ship this large.”
“The brooch was actually quite large,” Jane answered, holding her hand up, her thumb and forefinger forming a shape roughly the size of an apple.
“Wow. If it is as large as you say, then she would have heard it hit the ground had it fallen from her bag,” I said.
Jane flattened her lips and stared straight ahead, her eyes fixated on the back of Lady Dixon’s gray head.
“People are whispering about the Strattons and a possible extra-marital affair,” Mrs. Worthing said to Lady Dixon, her hand pressed to the side of her mouth, but her voice at normal volume. “Do you think there is any truth to it?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest. Mrs. Stratton made no secret about her appreciation for male company,” Lady Dixon said. “Why Colonel Stratton ever married her is beyond me. A high-ranking army man marrying a girl from a low-class family doesn’t seem to make any sense. What did he gain from the match besides a pretty face?”
“A pretty face is quite important to some men,” Mrs. Worthing said.
“Yes, but if death hadn’t stolen her beauty first, age would have. And then what would he have been left with?”
The question was open-ended, but I understood that Lady Dixon believed Ruby Stratton offered up nothing beyond her appearance. I also gathered from the conversation that Lady Dixon knew more about Ruby and the Colonel than she could have gathered in a single dinner.
“Did you know the Strattons prior to boarding the ship, Jane?” I whispered, hoping Jane would open up to me. Lady Dixon treated the poor girl horribly, and I hoped she would latch on to me as a female role model and confidante if I treated her as an equal. However, she pretended as if she hadn’t heard me and stepped forward so she trailed more closely behind Lady Dixon, effectively ending our covert conversation.
“Did you know the Strattons prior to boarding the ship, Lady Dixon?” I asked, repeating the question loud enough for everyone to hear.
Lady Dixon startled at my question, putting her hand on her heart and half-turning to look at me as though she’d forgotten I was there. She ran her eyes over me disapprovingly, pursed her mouth together, and then nodded. “Yes, I knew her.”
“Oh my, I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Worthing said. “I had no idea she was a friend of yours.”
Lady Dixon held up a hand to silence Mrs. Worthing’s condolences. “Mrs. Stratton was no friend of mine. She and the Colonel ran in a similar circle during the brief time Jane and I lived in Bombay. We saw them quite often at parties, but had no other contact beyond that.”
Mrs. Worthing pressed a hand to the old woman’s spine and patted her several times, all the while shaking her head. “Still, it must be hard to know someone you once saw at social functions has been murdered. I couldn’t imagine it.”
“Honestly, I’m not so surprised.” Lady Dixon said the words with little emotion, her eyes still devoted to the task of finding her missing brooch.
I couldn’t imagine being unsurprised at a murder. I had met all manner of unsavory people in my life, but if any of them were murdered, it would cause at least an eyebrow raise. Besides, from the little I’d seen of her, Ruby seemed friendly.
“Certainly, the news was a little shocking,” Mrs. Worthing said. “Mrs. Stratton was such a sweetheart at dinner last night.”
Lady Dixon laughed, though it was too sharp and brief to sound like anything but an insult. “A sweetheart, indeed. Especially if you were Dr. Rushforth or the Captain. I saw her making eyes at both of them. And right in front of the Colonel!”
“It just seemed like a bit of good fun to me,” Mrs. Worthing said in defense of the dead woman.
“If you consider adultery a ‘bit of good fun,’ then perhaps Jane and I ought to find a new dinner companion.” Lady Dixon lifted her chin and turned her face towards the ocean.
“The Colonel didn’t seem to mind,” I said to insert myself back into the conversation, even though it wasn’t entirely true. Colonel Stratton had just made his displeasure with his wife’s flirtatious nature quite clear when talking to Captain Croft.
“That doesn’t make it right,” Lady Dixon said, refusing to budge on her opinion of Ruby Stratton. Death usually made people more unwilling to focus on a person’s flaws, but Lady Dixon did not allow the hurdle of death to stop her from dragging Ruby Stratton’s name through the mud. “I saw the way she treated her poor husband, throwing herself at any man who would have her. It was repulsive, and an embarrassment. I hope he will now find himself a true lady to spend the rest of his days with.”
“So, you think she deserved to die?” I asked.
Mrs. Worthing gasped. “Rose! Of course, no one believes that.”
Lady Dixon let out a dainty little cough, and patted her hand across her lips. Mrs. Worthing turned to her walking companion, eyes disbelieving.
“I do not believe she deserved to die,” Lady Dixon said, and then paused, pleased to have the attention of the entire party. “I do, however, believe one reaps what one sows. And Mrs. Stratton sowed mischief.”
I thought that if that were the case, Lady Dixon would one day reap an entire field of spite, but I decided not to share this observation aloud. Lady Dixon seemed to see everyone she met in a negative light, but she took on an especially mean-spirited tone when talking about Ruby Stratton. I had to wonder why. She spoke highly of the Colonel, despite him appearing, to me, to be a large lump of a man who ate more than any person should, and was concerned about his finances hours after learning of his wife’s death—not particularly attractive character traits. Colonel Stratton was closer to Lady Dixon’s age than to Ruby’s. Could they have carried on an affair? It seemed unlikely considering Lady Dixon’s disapproval of Ruby even talking too flirtatiously to the Captain. Perhaps, rather than an affair, it was a case of unrequited love. Lady Dixon liked the Colonel, but he decided to marry a younger, more beautiful woman.
“How well did you know the Strattons?” I asked.
Lady Dixon sighed. “As I already said, I saw them at several parties while in Bombay, but never interacted with them beyond that.”
“You speak on the subject of the couple with a high degree of familiarity,” I said. “For someone who didn’t know them well, that is.”
The old woman had been staring straight ahead during our entire conversation, her black shoes slapping against the deck, but suddenly she stopped walking and whipped around, her sharp, cold eyes narrowed at me. “I am a keen observer of people. While everyone else talks and laughs and converses, I observe. I watch and I listen. I know all I will ever need to know about someone within one conversation.”
“That must be a useful skill.”
Lady Dixon leaned away from me and then turned on her heel to continue walking down the deck. “It has served me well, thus far.”
Since leaving the hospital in Simla and connecting with the Worthings, I had been looking forward to the voyage from India to England. I was excited to be away from the pressures of everyday life. To sit back and relax in a way I had never been able to before. But no
w, Ruby Stratton’s scared face filled my mind. Her words, hurried and frightened, repeated over and over in my ears. She had spent the last hours of her life afraid, and now she was dead. Someone had caused that fear, and as the person she had confided in, I felt it was my duty to find out who was responsible.
6
When Mrs. Worthing broke away from Lady Dixon’s brooch search to join Mr. Worthing for their game of badminton, I took the opportunity to excuse myself and find a comfortable deck chair in a quiet corner of the ship. Several families walked by in their swimming costumes, headed for the swimming pool on one of the lower decks, and an elderly man sat in a chair on the opposite side of the deck, wrestling the wind for control of his book. The pages flapped wildly, causing him to lose his place every few minutes. He would grumble under his breath as he licked his fingers and flipped the pages. Otherwise, though, I was perfectly alone for the first time all morning, and it allowed me time to think.
The suspect list was long—nearly six-hundred passengers and two-hundred crew members were aboard the RMS Star of India at the time of Ruby Stratton’s murder—but our dinner table the final night of Ruby’s life seemed a fine place to start. At the table were eight individuals. Four of whom—myself, the Worthings, and Ruby herself—I would immediately cross off my list of suspects. Of course, I had not committed the murder. The Worthings seemed incapable of pulling off a crime of that magnitude and keeping it entirely quiet. And Ruby, herself, had to be removed from the list. If it had been a suicide, certainly one of the many people who viewed the body would have said as much. No one would have wanted to worry the rest of the passengers unnecessarily with talk of a murderer. With those four removed, I was left with Colonel Stratton, Dr. Rushforth, Lady Dixon, and Jane. Also, not to be omitted, was Captain Croft, who did not dine at the table, but visited with Ruby during the evening.
Especially after overhearing Colonel Stratton’s heated exchange with Captain Croft after breakfast, I had to set my sights on him first. Not only would the Colonel have had the opportunity to murder his wife, but more than anyone, it appeared he could have had a motive. Although it had appeared he had noticed nothing beyond his plate at dinner that night, his wife’s flirting had not gone unnoticed. In fact, he’d yelled at Captain Croft for making eyes at his wife. Plus, I’d heard he and Ruby arguing in their cabin earlier that afternoon, and it had been quite heated. Could Ruby’s flirting have been the straw that broke the camel’s back? Perhaps, the Colonel had allowed his anger to consume him, and he’d done something unforgivable to Ruby. Plus, the Colonel had been certain Ruby was the murdered woman before it had even been confirmed. The majority of people when put in that situation would choose to hope for the best until proven otherwise, but Colonel Stratton had announced to the entire corridor that his wife was dead.
