The Pleasure Cruise Mystery

by Robin Forsythe

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next three days Vereker spent on the Sussex Downs, tramping, sketching, loafing. He had completely detached his mind from the Pleasure Cruise Mystery, and found his change of occupation restful and invigorating. On the fourth day he was planning an excursion to Alfriston to visit the Star Inn, the reputed haunt of smugglers in bygone days, and was preparing to start after breakfast when he received a telegram. It was from Richard Colvin stating that he was returning to Firle House without Mrs. Colvin and would be home for lunch. It concluded by expressing the hope that Vereker was still resident there and that he would be present at the meal. Vereker at once informed Dobbs of his master’s imminent homecoming and his own change of plan. He had to admit to himself that this unexpected news gave him a keen thrill of excitement. He was anxious to see Colvin and thrash out the whole business of the Mesado mystery with him. At the back of his mind he had felt certain that Colvin would take every precaution to avoid meeting him again, and that his generous offer of hospitality had only been another move in an audacious game of bluff. He had called Colvin’s bluff by accepting the invitation to Firle House, and had been anxious to see how that move would be countered. He had not envisaged Colvin returning boldly to face matters out. At once he began to surmise that something exceptional had happened to urge him to this course of action. He spent the morning in elaborating some of his sketches of the previous three days, and at midday he heard the car which brought Colvin from the station whirl up the drive of Firle House and come to a halt before the main entrance. He laid down his sketching materials and looked out of the window only to see the car turning for departure. He was about to go down and greet the arrival when his door opened and Colvin entered. He looked haggard and ill and was evidently in great mental distress.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Vereker,” he said and, after shaking hands, sank into an easy chair as if exhausted.

  “You don’t look up to the mark. Anything gone wrong?” asked Vereker sympathetically.

  “Every damned thing has gone wrong!” exclaimed Colvin with weak exasperation.

  “Yes, I agree. The game has gone badly against you from the very beginning,” replied Vereker.

  The remark caused Colvin to look up sharply, but on meeting Vereker’s steady gaze he lowered his eyes and for some minutes was lost in deep thought.

  “I’ve been wondering for some time now how much you knew, Vereker,” he said at length. “Even when we were on the ‘Mars’ I had an inkling that you had probed unexpectedly deep into our secret. I was at first inclined to put the blame on my guilty conscience, but there was something in your attitude which warned me that you were on our tracks. It put me on the defensive and I naturally became more guarded than ever, but it seems as if I might have saved myself the trouble.”

  “I’ve an idea I know all about your secret, Colvin,” said Vereker quietly, “but even now I’m not too cocksure. Before we discuss the matter, what has happened to Mrs. Colvin? Not met with an accident, I hope.”

  “Poor Constance, the strain was too much for her. I had to take her to a nursing home on our return from Spain. She has had a dreadful breakdown.”

  “A mental home?” asked Vereker.

  “Yes. It’s only temporary, I hope, but it’s a bad business and the doctor in charge wasn’t too sanguine.”

  “I’m sorry for her, but a murder and a suicide in the family are enough to unhinge any but the strongest brain.”

  “Then you do know,” said Colvin. “We’ve played a desperate game and lost. For myself I don’t care two hoots, but for Constance...” Colvin left the sentence unfinished owing to his deep emotion. There was an uncomfortable pause, but regaining his self-control he said, “Tell me what you know and I’ll let you know if you’ve got the facts correct.”

  “To begin with your sister-in-law, Amy Diss or Maureen O’Connor, was the cause of all the trouble.”

  “Yes, to a certain extent. She has been the skeleton in the Diss family cupboard for years. Beyond the fact that her sisters, Beryl and Constance, would have nothing to do with her owing to the degraded life she was leading, nothing serious would have happened if that scoundrel Dias hadn’t come on the scene. He’s a man of the most dangerous type. He became friendly with Beryl’s husband in the Argentine, and on landing in England began to dig into the Diss family history after somehow learning that there was some mystery about a third sister, Amy. Having with extraordinary pertinacity found out all about Amy, he continued his search until he found out where the woman lived in London. As you know, he’s a handsome and plausible rogue, and soon he had Amy, or Maureen as she called herself, completely in his power. With a view to blackmail he introduced Guillermo Mesado to Amy. Up to this point Guillermo had never heard of the existence of Amy. The result of this meeting was disastrous. Guillermo pitied the woman and, being very susceptible to feminine charms, was soon making passionate love to her. She encouraged him. He spent money recklessly on her and became so careless of his behaviour that Beryl’s suspicions were roused. Moreover, Guillermo became jealous of Dias and, finding that Dias was simply bleeding Amy of the money he was providing, he quarrelled bitterly with her and left her. Finding that no further money was forthcoming, Dias tried to blackmail Guillermo. This was ineffectual, and to revenge himself Dias got his tool Renée Gautier to tell the story of the whole sordid business to Beryl. I believe Gautier too was in love with the man, but of this I wouldn’t be positive. In any case there was a terrible row between Beryl and Guillermo. They almost came to blows, for Beryl when roused was absolutely reckless and behaved like a maniac. Guillermo promptly left Firle House, and we haven’t seen him since. I dare say he has gone back to Buenos Aires, but we don’t know. Now came the most serious part of the sorry business...”

  “Let me continue the story, Colvin, and if I’m wrong in my particulars correct me. Beryl Mesado, thinking that Amy had been the cause of her husband’s infidelity and of her estrangement from him, decided to make sure of her facts. She probably did this in a fit of remorse, because she loved Guillermo and began to fear that she might have acted hastily in reproaching him. She invited her sister to Firle House and, finding that Gautier’s story was true, decided to revenge herself on her sister. She inveigled her downstairs under pretence of showing her the refrigerating chamber and locked her in. In my investigation I surmised that you and your wife were not at home on Sunday evening. I should like to know if that’s correct.”

  “Damned smart, Vereker. We were over at the Mortons to dinner and didn’t return till midnight. When we arrived back at Firle House Beryl told us that Maureen had left the house after an angry scene between them. She didn’t know where

  “Where was Gautier?” asked Vereker.

  “She had gone to bed early after laying a cold supper for her mistress and Maureen. Dobbs and his wife were up in London.”

  “It looks as if Beryl had planned this business.”

  “I can’t say. She was a very difficult woman to understand. I’m inclined to think she acted on impulse and that circumstances were favourable by mere chance. I may be biased in her favour because I was very fond of her.”

  “How did you eventually find out what she had done?”

  “Gautier, who was troubled with sleeplessness that night, came down in the early hours of the morning to make herself a glass of hot milk, and went into the refrigerator for the milk. She found Maureen unconscious and made her a cup of tea to warm and revive her. She recovered sufficiently to tell Gautier what Beryl had done and then snuffed out. Gautier promptly came upstairs and wakened Beryl first and then ourselves.”

  “I see, and then there was a council of the four of you to settle what you were going to do about it.”

  “Exactly. I was all for us agreeing to say that it was an accident.”

  “Certainly that was one way out of the trouble, though one of you might have weakened and made a mess of things at the inquest. There would naturally have been a lot of uncomfo
rtable explanations to make and questions to answer. It looks a water-tight story at first glance, but I’m not so sure it wouldn’t have sprung a leak. I take it that you and Constance were going to save your sister’s neck at all costs?”

  “Naturally. What else could we do? Constance and I would have gone through hell-fire for Beryl. In spite of her many faults she was one of the most fascinating women I’ve ever known.”

  “Gautier, I presume, was not so eager.”

  “Well, she said she would do all in her power to shield her, but she got the wind up when we began to discuss the inquest.”

  “Who suggested concealing the whole affair and getting rid of the body at sea?”

  “Gautier. At first Constance and I and Beryl were dead against such a risky course, but Gautier pointed out the advantages of the scheme and Beryl was immediately won over. Everything seemed so favourable for its success. After a long discussion of ways and means Constance and I agreed to the suggestion. I was the last to succumb because I saw that the act of getting rid of the body would fall on me. When Beryl said she’d carry out that dangerous bit herself and twitted me with being a funk, I said I’d carry it out. After that we all set to work to arrange the details of the enterprise.”

  “I worked it out that you were to carry the body from Beryl’s cabin and fling it overboard in the early hours of the morning. I also surmised that you had made some hasty arrangements to counter untoward happenings. If you were caught carrying the body up the companion you were going to say Mrs. Mesado had fainted and you were taking her up on deck for air.”

  “By jingo, that’s good, Vereker. It’s exactly what we arranged!”

  “And on it being found that the lady had died of heart failure the real Mrs. Mesado was to be shut up in the duplicate trunk in your cabin and be taken ashore at Lisbon.”

  “Yes; it was a desperate alternative, but the whole plan was a desperate one. It meant that Beryl would have to lie doubled up in the trunk while the stewardess tidied up her cabin every morning, and as soon as possible Constance would return, bolt the cabin door and let her out. We had arranged an opening to allow for sufficient air; a very neat flap in the back of the trunk which took me all morning to make. She would only have to do this for three mornings at the most.

  “You’d have had to run her through the Customs,” remarked Vereker.

  “That we foresaw would be the biggest risk of all, and we were going to nobble the Customs with fifty thousand escudos—about five hundred pounds—if the occasion arose. Our scheme might have failed, but we had to take our chances. On board it would have worked all right, I think, because Constance was going to feel seasick and keep to her cabin till we reached Lisbon. As long as she and Beryl kept the cabin door bolted they would have been safe against detection. Still we were now thoroughly worked up, and the more we thought things out the more sanguine we became. We didn’t meet trouble half-way and all hoped for the best.”

  “It might have worked if you hadn’t lost your head at the critical moment, Colvin. Ricardo happened to come round the corner of the promenade deck and you promptly dropped the body and returned to your cabin.”

  “Yes, it’s all very well looking at the affair in retrospect; but I’m not blessed with nerves of steel. I ran down to tell Beryl she must vanish into the trunk in my cabin and that we must pretend that she—that is the body on deck—had died of heart failure. There was no one on board who could say that Maureen’s body was not Beryl’s except the Penteados and Dias, and we would not have allowed them to view it.”

  “It was your trump card and won the trick, but what went wrong? Did Mrs. Mesado lose her head?”

  “She did. In spite of my efforts to persuade her and a violent struggle that followed she rushed up on deck and flung herself overboard. You can imagine my consternation when I discovered you had her necklace. I guessed she had thrown it in your open cabin window in mistake for her own.”

  “And Maureen’s necklace had vanished from the body in the trunk?”

  “Yes. Neither Constance nor I cared a damn about Maureen’s necklace until Beryl found that it had been stolen from the body in the trunk.”

  “You suspected Gautier?”

  “No, or rather Beryl was certain Gautier hadn’t stolen it. Constance and I were not so sure. It was a horrible quandary, for if some one else had stolen it it was clear that our plan had been discovered by a stranger.”

  “When the necklace was returned to you at Lisbon it proved to be a paste duplicate?”

  “Yes. That scoundrel Dias, whose tool Gautier was, got the disappointment of his life. Constance said that the real necklace must be the one Beryl locked up in a drawer in this room.”

  “It’s here all right, Colvin. I took the liberty of opening the drawer in my search for clues.”

  “Let’s see if it’s the genuine one!” exclaimed Colvin with a faint show of eagerness.

  “Your sister-in-law was careless about valuable jewellery,” remarked Vereker as he extracted the key from the Satsuma vase and opened the right-hand top drawer of the chest. Taking out the jeweller’s case he handed it to Colvin, who opened it and swiftly examined the necklace.

  “Good Lord!” he exclaimed after a brief but careful scrutiny, “this is a paste duplicate, Vereker. How the hell…?”

  His words were cut short by a burst of bitter laughter from Vereker.

  “Well I’m damned!” the latter exclaimed at length. “Of all the fools in this world, Colvin, I think I must be the biggest!”

  “I don’t see what you’re driving at,” said Colvin slowly as he stood gazing at Vereker in blank bewilderment.

  “Dias has substituted this paste duplicate for the genuine one after all. I didn’t think he’d had time to do so. I was a simpleton not to take immediate steps to find out,” replied Vereker, and then related in full to the astonished Colvin the story of his recent midnight encounter with Dias as a burglar.

  “A clever devil,” remarked Colvin with the first smile that had lighted his sunken features since his return. “You got the better of us, Vereker, and I must say I’m just a little pleased that for once some one has put it across you. I think he has earned that necklace, and he’s welcome to it.”

  “I suppose it’s good to get the conceit taken out of one at times,” said Vereker, acutely chagrined at the neat way he had been tricked, “but it’s an unpleasant experience.”

  At this moment the gong sounded for lunch and the two men descended to the dining-room. Over their meal they reverted to the topic of the desperate plan to conceal Beryl Mesado’s crime, and Vereker pointed out to Colvin the curious fact that Maureen had only expired after he had left her body on the promenade deck of the “Mars”.

  “In spite of your mishaps your luck held,” said Vereker, “for if she had been dead when you packed the body in the trunk Doctor Macpherson would certainly have discovered that your story of heart failure was all bunk, and then the fat would have been in the fire.”

  “We hadn’t thought of that snag,” said Colvin reflectively. “The words rigor mortis were never mentioned by any of us. They say all murderers make one silly blunder, and that was ours.”

  “And now I suppose you know you are guilty of being accessories after the fact to a murder,” said Vereker gravely.

  “Yes, yes, I know all about that, Vereker. I don’t care a continental either. I only did what I could to help Beryl because I was fond of her, and because Constance loved her. I’d do it again if the occasion arose. You’re the only man who knows the truth about our conspiracy, and you can jolly well do your damnedest for all I care.”

  “Chief Inspector Heather of Scotland Yard also knows,” said Vereker.

  “Then the sooner he gets on with the job of arresting us the better. Constance is in a mental home. God knows where Gautier is, but I’m here, and here I’ll stay until the inspector turns up.”

  “You took a chance, Colvin, and apparently you’ve lost. I must say you’re taking defeat
like a well plucked ’un. I’m going to see Inspector Heather this afternoon. In the meantime I should keep my tail up if I were you. I’m afraid we’ve not arrived at our journey’s end yet and no one knows what’s round the bend of the road.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was about a week after Vereker had returned to his flat in Fenton Street, W., that Heather found time to pay him an eagerly awaited visit. The inspector had been engaged on the case of a young woman of the demi-monde who had been brutally strangled with a silk stocking in her rooms at Maida Vale, and he had at last been able to take an afternoon off from his exacting work. He arrived shortly after lunch, and Vereker, who had been putting the finishing touches to a picture intended for one of the spring shows, promptly flung down palette, brushes and marl stick and at once broached the topic of the Pleasure Cruise Mystery.

  “You’ve brought the photo-micrographs, Heather?” he asked eagerly.

  “Yes, here they are,” replied Heather, producing them from an attaché case, “and they fully bear out your theory. The finger-prints on the refrigerator door tally with those of the dead body on the ‘Mars’ and are indubitably those of Maureen O’Connor.”