Flora's Secret

by Anita Davison

  Flora grasped the rail but Bunny gripped her elbow from behind, halting her. ‘Oh no, you don’t. You’ll slip. Allow me.’ He wrapped his arm round her waist, slid the other beneath her knees and swept her into his arms.

  ‘What happened in there exactly?’ Bunny asked as he carried her down to the bottom of the companionway with remarkable ease, while behind them Mrs Penry-Jones kept up a constant stream of fractious complaints to a slow-moving Max.

  ‘Hester saw the knife,’ Flora said. ‘I knew it sounded wrong when I heard her at the dining table. I just didn’t put it together until now.’

  ‘Put what together?’ He set her gently onto the deck, where the detective and the captain had halted ten feet away.

  ‘She said,’ Flora tried to remember exactly, ‘If a man is ruthless enough to bludgeon another to death with an ashtray, he’s hardly likely to baulk at stabbing a woman. Only a few of us knew Eloise had been stabbed.’

  ‘Good grief! You mean Hester killed Eloise?’ Bunny looked to where Hester had taken up position at the aft rail, both elbows hooked over the top, her full skirt billowing in the wind and her features in profile.

  Max released an anguished, ‘Oh, Lord,’ as he joined Cynthia, who, leaned against his uninjured shoulder, her face white.

  Several crewmen held back a group of spectators who had formed a wide semicircle around the woman at the rail.

  Hester swivelled her head a quarter turn, raking them all with a dispassionate look; as if she didn’t recognize them, or had dismissed them all from her mind as irrelevant.

  Then her gaze snagged on Flora and held. ‘What’s she doing here?’

  ‘She’s concerned for you, Miss Smith, as we all are.’ Hersch eased Flora backwards with an outstretched arm, then eased forwards again.

  ‘You do know that Eloise didn’t kill Theodore van Elder, don’t you, Hester?’ His tone conciliatory, as if persuading a child. ‘I may call you Hester, mayn’t I?’

  ‘What does it matter? Nothing does.’ Hester’s low voice competed with the whoosh of the sea beneath the hull, while above them the wind sang in the winch lines. Hersch took a step closer, but Hester spotted him, stiffened and leaned back, her upper body balanced precariously on the rail. He halted, his hands held up in surrender.

  ‘What are you doing, Hester, you stupid girl?’ Mrs Penry-Jones demanded, her stick tapping a rhythm on the boards as she drew closer. ‘Come away from there at once!’

  Hersch frantically signalled her back, but she ignored him.

  Hester’s head whipped round to face her, eyes narrowed. ‘Go away, you awful old dragon. If you hadn’t demanded so much of him, he wouldn’t have failed.’

  ‘Who wouldn’t?’ Bunny said at Flora’s shoulder.

  ‘I think she means Marlon,’ Flora replied.

  ‘Of course I mean Marlon!’ Hester shouted. ‘He was my husband.’

  ‘You’re lying!’ Mrs Penry-Jones said, indignant. ‘Marlon was never married.’

  ‘Of course,’ Flora whispered. ‘That would explain it.’

  ‘Not to me, it doesn’t,’ Bunny said. ‘What’s she talking about?’

  Flora stilled him with a finger to her lips, her head angled into his shoulder. ‘Don’t you males ever understand affairs of the heart?’

  ‘We had it all planned,’ Hester began, responding to her own inner voice. ‘I was to take the position as his aunt’s companion.’ She sighed, her world-weary look intimating that had she known what a trial the exercise would become, she might have chosen to stab the old lady instead. ‘Then, once Marlon was accepted back into the family, we would pretend to elope.’

  ‘Ah, now I see,’ Bunny said into Flora’s hair. ‘Parnell was her husband. Sorry, I got him muddled with this Marlon chap.’

  ‘Marlon was Parnell. Oh, do pay attention,’ Flora said, shushing him.

  ‘But Marlon wasn’t as clever as you, was he, Hester?’ Hersch took half a step towards her.

  ‘Get away from me!’ She scooted backwards until her rear end protruded over the rail, her feet hooked into the metal bars.

  ‘Why don’t we discuss this rationally inside the suite?’ His tone softened, became ingratiating.

  ‘No!’ Hester screamed. ‘You’re trying to trick me.’

  Captain Gates whispered an instruction to a crewman Flora had to strain to hear. ‘Tell the chief engineer to slow all engines.’

  The crewman slipped away and Flora looked up at Bunny, who shook his head. ‘It won’t help if she jumps. We must be doing sixteen knots and it’s getting dark.’

  Flora chewed her bottom lip but remained silent. She knew she couldn’t move fast enough to stop Hester with her injured foot, nor could anyone else.

  ‘He was weak,’ Hester screamed, bringing Flora’s attention back to her. ‘Eloise convinced him she hadn’t killed Theodore, but I knew the old woman wouldn’t accept that. She would never let him back into the family.’

  ‘What did you do, Hester?’ Hersch made no further attempt to close the gap between them. This appeared to reassure her, and she continued to talk.

  ‘I told him that we should at least get the money Eloise took from Theo’s safe. It would help us start again back in New York. That night he went to her stateroom to say he would convince his aunt that she was innocent if she gave him the money. Then she could go to London and forget about the van Elders.’

  ‘But you thought Eloise had killed him rather than hand it over? Why?’ Hersch asked.

  ‘I hung around Eloise’s cabin the morning after he died, and heard that governess say she had heard them arguing.’ She cocked her chin in Flora’s direction. ‘Eloise was the last person to see him alive. I thought she must have killed him.’

  ‘Hester.’ The detective kept his voice low, almost hypnotic. ‘Tell us what happened.’

  The ship dipped as a wave ran below the hull and Hester slipped.

  A collective gasp went through the group of spectators, until Hester adjusted her grip thus regaining her balance. The violence of the movement combined with the wind, had loosened the bun at her neck, leaving her honey-coloured hair to stream behind her.

  She looked almost graceful sitting there, while behind her, slim fingers of dusk crept across a pink and orange sky that sported a lace overskirt of ragged clouds.

  ‘Keep talking to us, Hester,’ Mr Hersh urged. ‘We need to understand.’

  Her lip curled, as if she didn’t believe him, but she began to speak again. ‘When the officer sent us inside during the storm, I told Mrs Penry-Jones I was seasick and needed to lie down. Instead, I went to Eloise’s stateroom.’ A sly look entered her eyes at the memory. ‘The silly madam ordered me out. She had no idea who I was and I didn’t bother to explain, I just plunged the knife into her chest.’ Her gaze clouded, as if she was unsure about the next part of her story. ‘I think I did it more than once. She didn’t even cry out, just stared at me as she slid to the floor.’

  ‘What did you do then?’ Hersch asked.

  ‘I had to get the knife back to Mrs Penry-Jones jewel case before it was missed.’ Hester blinked and shook her head. ‘She was talking to someone, I heard her through the adjoining door. The knife had blood on it, so did my dress, so I hid it in the motor car, then changed my clothes and went to the bridge tournament. I went back for the knife later, but those brats were playing in it.’ Hester glared at Flora again as if she were solely responsible for her ruined plans. ‘I tried to get it from that boy’s room but—’

  Flora gasped, and sensing her shock, Bunny tightened his hold around her as a salt-tinged gust of wind swept the open deck.

  Hester shivered and despite the pain and fear she had experienced in the last twenty-four hours, Flora experienced a sort of sympathy for Hester. The invisible, plain girl whose circumstances had forced her into a life of subservience and humiliation. Then she finally meets a man who seems to genuinely love her, not caring that he’s weak and incapable, because he was hers. Then their one chance to achieve a
better life was taken in one violent act, leaving her with the prospect of carrying bags and running for smelling salts for the rest of her life.

  It was enough to break most people.

  A sudden impulse gripped her. She pulled away from Bunny, and she took a halting step towards Hester

  ‘Flora? What do you think you’re doing?’ Bunny hissed. He made a grab for her but missed.

  ‘You can’t stay there forever, Hester,’ Flora pleaded. ‘It’s getting dark and you must be cold in just that thin dress.’

  ‘Why should you care?’ Hester snarled, throwing her a look of disdain then back to the sea again. ‘If you hadn’t asked all those questions, he—’ She broke off and inhaled on a choked sob.

  ‘Marlon would still be alive?’ Flora finished for her. ‘No he wouldn’t. He was dead before I cast doubt on what had happened. Eloise didn’t kill him either.’

  ‘I know that – now!’ The wind pushed Hester’s hair into her face. She took one hand off the rail to brush it back, unbalancing her. For a heart-stopping few seconds, she rocked precariously on the rail.

  Cynthia gasped and Flora held her breath, but somehow Hester hung on.

  ‘Flora, come back here,’ Bunny instructed, but she ignored him.

  ‘Even if you aren’t cold, I am.’ Flora took another step closer, her hand outstretched towards Hester, her palm upwards in invitation. ‘Why don’t we do what Mr Hersch suggested and talk about this inside? It isn’t too late.’

  Hester swivelled her head and met Flora’s gaze, her thin lips quirked into a parody of a smile; like a cat who has spotted a friendly bird. Slowly, her hand lifted so that no more than a foot lay between their outstretched fingers. ‘Isn’t it?’ she whispered, her gaze sweeping the row of curios spectators before coming to rest on Mrs Penry-Jones.

  For long seconds, Flora thought she would take Flora’s hand. Then something distant and primal entered her eyes.

  Flora’s breath caught as she knew what was about to happen but she was helpless to prevent it.

  A triumphant smile spread slowly across Hester’s face. She withdrew her hand, leaned backwards, and floated over the rail.

  Mrs Penry-Jones released a long high-pitched scream.

  Hersch groaned in frustration, while Bunny issued a loud curse. Max wrapped his arms around Cynthia, who buried her face in his shoulder.

  A low murmur of dismay went up among the watchers, some of whom made a sudden but useless rush towards the rail. A line of crewmen spread out along the deck, bent over the rail while they searched the waves below, arms pointing and issuing orders to lower a lifeboat.

  Flora froze, buffeted by the rising wind as her hand dropped nerveless to her side. Strong hands closed round her shoulders and she became aware of Bunny urging her backwards. She complied but barely acknowledged him.

  She turned her head to where the captain stood, his brief headshake reiterating what Bunny had already said: they were travelling too fast and it was almost dark. If Hester had managed to survive the fall, there was the shock of the freezing water that would likely stop her heart. By the time the ship manoeuvred around and went back for her, she would most certainly have drowned.

  Despite it all, Flora hoped they would try.

  Chapter 28

  At Hersch’s instigation, they reassembled in Mrs Penry-Jones’s sitting room; each one of them silent and absorbed with their own disturbing thoughts. The devastation caused by the spilled tea tray had been cleared up; the Korean dagger repositioned on the mantle. A damp area of carpet evidenced a vigorous scrubbing, but otherwise the room looked untouched.

  ‘I saw everything from the upper deck.’ Mary Ames bustled into the room and plucked at Flora’s sleeve. ‘Has the captain ordered we go back to look for Hester?’

  ‘I-I believe so,’ Flora stammered. ‘He’s ordered a lifeboat lowered, but—’ She shook her head, arms wrapped round her midriff.

  When Hester realized what she had done, in that instant when the long fall to the sea began and there was no turning back, did instinct take over? Was she still conscious when she hit the water, and if so, did she fight to stay afloat in the freezing ocean, unable to catch her breath. Was she forced to watch in growing, numbing horror as the ship sailed steadily away from her?

  ‘Flora?’ Bunny’s voice came to her as if from a long way off. ‘Are you all right?’

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  ‘It’s at times like this’ – Miss Ames fussed over Mrs Penry-Jones, though the woman studiously ignored her – ‘I feel the tragedies of life can be mitigated by portrayal in art.’ She patted her pocket, where the outline of her notebook stood out. ‘In this case, literary art.’

  ‘She’s going to put Hester’s story in a book?’ Flora whispered to Bunny. ‘Can you imagine that?’

  ‘It’s quite a good plot actually.’ Bunny shrugged. ‘And we all have our own coping strategies.’

  ‘Really?’ She raised a cynical eyebrow at him. ‘What was Hester’s?’

  ‘Maybe she couldn’t face the prospect of dying at the end of a rope. It isn’t a pleasant way to go.’

  ‘And drowning is?’ Flora murmured, not expecting an answer. Her ankle began to ache, which she contemplated using as an excuse to return to her suite.

  Passengers had been running all over the ship during the last half hour and soon everyone would know what had happened. She didn’t want Eddy to find out via shipboard gossip.

  ‘Then this entire fiasco was for nothing?’ Mrs Penry-Jones spoke, while fat tears carved lines in her face powder, hovered on her upper lip and dropped onto her clasped hands which resembled bundles of bones in her lap. ‘Hester deceived me, too.’

  ‘I’m afraid that’s true, dear lady.’ Hersch spoke with restraint, though Flora imagined he would have liked to say a great deal more had his innate good manners not prevented him.

  Max comforted Cynthia, his uninjured arm across her shoulders while he whispered into her hair.

  ‘Max,’ Flora asked as something occurred to her, ‘did you see Hester leave Eloise’s stateroom after she … well, you know. Is that why you were on deck in the storm?’

  Cynthia lifted her face from his shoulder and stared up into his face. ‘Max?’

  ‘I-I saw someone coming out of Eloise’s room in a cloak just like the one I bought Cynthia in London.’ Max blew air between his pursed lips ‘It was obvious they didn’t want to be seen, and I thought—’

  ‘That it was me?’ Cynthia said, aghast.

  ‘No, I mean, well yes, maybe I did.’ He licked his lips. ‘I couldn’t be sure. The storm was severe by then and the deck awash. Then the wave hit me, and Mr Harrington dragged me back.’

  ‘You never told me any of this,’ Cynthia pushed herself upright and stared at him.

  ‘How could I? When I woke up to find out Eloise had been killed, I thought-’ He massaged his forehead with his free hand. ‘I knew you blamed her for your father’s death. My first thought was to protect you. No matter what you had done.’

  ‘Oh, Max.’ Cynthia crumpled into his one armed-embrace. ‘It was my cloak. I lent it to Hester, but I didn’t kill Eloise.’

  ‘I know that now,’ he whispered. ‘I feel terrible for having thought you capable of such a thing. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be.’ Cynthia ran her hand down his jaw. ‘I should have insisted you tell me what you were doing outside in that storm, but I didn’t want to hear it.’

  Max’s face paled. ‘You thought I had done it?’

  Cynthia’s lips parted, whether to issue a denial or not, Flora couldn’t tell. What damage had been done to their marriage with so much doubt she couldn’t imagine, but the simple fact was, they would have to learn to live with it.

  ‘I think we should go,’ she whispered.

  Bunny nodded, laced his fingers with hers and drew her to her feet, helped her out onto the deck with the help of Mr Hersch.

  ‘That explains how Matilda ended up on the othe
r side of the saloon deck.’ Bunny halted outside Flora’s suite. ‘Hester must have undone the straps when she hid the knife.’

  ‘I cannot help feeling that had I linked Dr Fletcher with that land deal earlier, at least two people would still be alive.’ Hersch released a sigh and stared sadly out to sea.

  ‘You aren’t responsible,’ Flora said. ‘Had Mrs Penry-Jones informed the agency they were travelling under different names, you would have known what was going on.’ Even so, she doubted he could have prevented Hester’s malice towards Eloise – or Parnell’s greed.

  Small groups of passengers had gathered at the rail, necks stretched and talking earnestly among themselves. A knot of sailors clustered round an empty lifeboat support on the promenade deck above them, their gazes trained out to sea.

  ‘Have they found anything?’ Flora asked.

  ‘I doubt it,’ Bunny sighed. ‘But they have to go through the motions.’

  ‘I’ll leave you now,’ Hersch said. ‘Maybe we’ll see each other at dinner, though somehow I haven’t much of an appetite this evening.’ He performed a polite bow and left them, his rhythmic footsteps receding along the deck.

  ‘I didn’t like to say,’ Flora said when he was out of earshot. ‘But I’m starving.’

  ‘Me too, Bunny chuckled, tucking his arm though hers. ‘You were right, no one was who they pretended to be. A secret wife, a vengeful mother and a grieving daughter. Everyone can be whom they choose aboard ship.’ He pushed open the door and ushered Flora inside. ‘I shall have to listen to you more closely in future.’

  ‘You never know, there might just be a time when you will do exactly that.’

  ‘In a way it’s admirable that Max was prepared to protect his wife to such an extent,’ Bunny said, making himself at home in the sitting room.

  ‘I find it sinister that Cynthia will always remember her husband believed her capable of murder.’