Death on a Dark Sea (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 2)

by R. A. Bentley

  'Yes. Well, stabbed anyway. Although it did occur to me that he might have stabbed himself. No-one seems to have suggested that. I suppose it's not very likely.'

  'Did you mention that theory to anyone else?'

  'Only to Lucia, and Connie Harrison.'

  Hunched over the table, Felix had been doodling in his notebook which was now covered in blocks of names connected by lines. 'So to reduce it to some sort of pattern, there was a certain amount of coming and going among the men involved in the meeting, some of which you might have missed on account of your seating position. Escobar and Harrison went up on deck severally and probably stayed up and Luther Baker went up when Señora Pérez cried out, but might conceivably have gone up and come back earlier. Everyone else stayed below, apart from Alice and Robert who went on deck, possibly to visit the Captain, and remained there. Can you remind me who that left behind?'

  'Um, let me see. Me and Lucia, Ruby, of course, Mrs Harrison and Connie Harrison, with Julia Pérez going forrard for a few minutes and then rushing aft again. There was a fair bit of coming and going all evening, though, to the head and so on. In fact, Connie was probably in there when the balloon went up, or was out of the room anyway. She'd gone to look after Lucia, and didn't come back immediately. She came running by when Julia called out and I think went forrard, but I'm not sure. It was pretty chaotic. And I think Mrs Harrison went up the aft companionway. Not forrard anyway.'

  'Right. So after Señora Pérez cried out, Mrs Harrison, Ruby and Luther Baker probably went up the aft companionway and Miss Harrison probably went forrard. But with the possible exception of Baker none of those people could have been on deck at the time of the murder, as far as you can tell?'

  'I think that's right, yes, unless there's some means of getting on deck from further aft that I don't know about.'

  'And did anyone bring the coffee?' asked Rattigan.

  Andrew smiled. 'Yes, eventually. And breakfast this morning. The staff were rather good, I thought.'

  'And afterwards, did anyone say anything you think we ought to know about?'

  Andrew paused to consider. 'People talked about it, of course, in a guarded sort of way. Nothing very revealing, that I can recall. Then we heard that Julia had accused the crewman, Olofsson. I suppose that rather suited the rest of us as it meant we didn't have to suspect each other — not so much so, anyway. Soon after that, the local police inspector turned up. By the time he'd gone and the two constables had arrived, it was getting on for three o'clock and we just wanted to sleep. The lady guests were put up in the various cabins and the rest of us stretched out in the saloon. I must admit I was a little nervous of that, and I had a lot to think about. I might have managed a couple of hours.'

  Felix nodded and, half-standing, offered his hand across the table. 'Mr Bainbridge, thank you. I don't think we need go any further. Will you be taking up your splendid new appointment?'

  Andrew smiled and shook his head. 'I doubt that'll be possible. A.D.P. is very much a one-man show. Without Luis Pérez it's nothing. I'm probably out of a job.'

  'A.D.P. is Armamentos de Pérez?'

  'Yes, that's right.'

  'What about Señora Pérez? Won't she carry it on?'

  'I doubt she could, or would want to. It's all to do with contacts and favours and friends in the right places; one couldn't just walk in and take over. She's English, by the way, and Maurice is her son from a previous marriage. I think his surname is LeFevre.'

  'Ah, I didn't know that. Thank you.'

  'Could you repeat the name please, sir?' said Rattigan.

  'Felix spelled it out for him. 'Well we'd better not keep Doctor Edwards waiting. I'm afraid you'll probably have to attend the inquest, but for now you're free to get off this bucking bronco and return to terra firma. I must say, I envy you that. We'll get your statement typed up and someone will bring it to you to sign at your hotel. And, of course, the very best of luck to you with your firstborn. What will you do now?'

  'For work? That's unlikely to be a problem. In some ways I'm rather relieved. It means I shan't have to travel and leave Lucia. Can I just say one thing? I really can't imagine that any of the people I know would have killed Pérez. I don't know about Escobar, of course.'

  Left alone, the two men relaxed, getting out their pipes.

  'Devoted husband,' said Felix, 'and a nicely objective, clear-headed statement, especially under the circumstances.'

  'Sets the scene very well,' agreed Rattigan. 'Assuming it's accurate. Good to have it at the start.'

  'Did I miss anything, Teddy? This confounded rolling is scrambling my brains.'

  'I'd say nothing critical, sir. Not as he's the first. Pity his watch stopped though.'

  'Yes, it's a Patek — expensive. It corresponded with mine just now. Shame that he should forget to wind it. A few accurate times would have helped considerably.'

  'I shouldn't worry; we'll probably get some later. Look, I hope you don't mind me saying, sir, but you've gone rather a funny colour. Wouldn't be the you-know-what, I suppose?'

  'What, a mile off Cowes? I should hardly think so.' Felix stood up and made for the nearest opening window, but failing exactly to anticipate the ship's complex motion, he staggered and fell against it. Pushing it open, he leant out, taking several deep breaths before cautiously embarking on the return trip. You don't mind a bit of bracing ozone in here, do you? What's the matter with this damned chair? Oh, it's bolted down. No, to be honest, I'm glad to be back at work. It was good to get some riding in, but there's only so much social chit-chat and bridge one can tolerate, and Mother is doing her darnedest to put me to stud — ghastly daughter of her best friend. Daisy thinks it's a "hoot."'

  'Sounds like my landlady,' chuckled Rattigan. 'They can't bear to see a man single, can they? Why are we here anyway? Doesn't seem like our sort of thing.'

  'Whatever that may be; I'm never quite sure. However, it might not be as straightforward as it appears. Simmons doesn't think it was the Swede. He reckons he only locked him up for his own safety and to placate the Señora. He was very insistent about that, apparently. Says Olofsson wouldn't hurt a fly. Added to which, Pérez was quite a big beast in his own particular jungle; a millionaire twice over, by all accounts. Not to mention the complication of his being Spanish and half the people aboard foreigners. All of which makes it a job for the Yard, which the local man, Jackson was indecently eager to point out.'

  'So how did Pérez make his millions — all from arms?'

  'Yes, as far as we know. Mostly the small stuff, apparently, but vast amounts of it, war-surplus.'

  Rattigan made a little moue of distaste. 'Not a nice trade, to my mind. Surprising a pleasant young chap like Bainbridge should get involved in it.'

  'Yes, I thought that. Or maybe we're being naive. If his watch and suit are anything to go by, it clearly pays well. It'll be interesting to discover what the other players are like.'

  'Weapons on board?'

  'I doubt there's any merchandise – he probably keeps well away from it – though I'd be surprised if there isn't the odd handgun, for personal use. We'd better look into that.'

  'I meant to tell you, they've all been frisked — the men anyway. Talbot and Hardy did it.'

  Felix nodded. 'I'd rather assumed that. Not that it means much; they'll have had plenty of time to hide a weapon. Whoever our murderer is, I doubt he'll try to make a break for it with the ship full of policemen. He'll probably keep his head down and hope we arrest someone else. In fact, I'm minded to let them have Hardy back, as they're short-handed ashore. That still leaves five of us. Hello, here come the workers.'

  'We've just about finished on deck, sir,' said Yardley. 'Complicated picture, as you'd expect. I couldn't get anything useful off the rail, it's plastered, and it's little better around the bloodstains. There seems to be a lot of reaching out to steady oneself, which doesn't help. The doctor's got his sample, by the way, and I've put another in your case. I'm afraid there wasn't a lot left by the
time we'd finished, but Nash got some decent shots of it first. We also did the caterer's boat. It's all a bit wet down there but we found this. Show them, John.'

  Nash opened Felix's case and fetched out a torch, neatly boxed.

  'Dabbed, photographed and position noted, sir,' said Yardley. 'Only one person's dabs, nice ones. It was lying under the side-deck but at risk of slipping into the bilges, so we rescued it.'

  'Why this, particularly?' asked Felix.

  'Because someone's been trying to break open the engine cover. It looks recent. Quite a lot of damage but a bit inept, as if they hadn't the right tools. If it was done last night they'd presumably have needed the torch. We wondered if it might be our man, trying to escape.'

  'Very possibly,' agreed Felix, 'Now that's what I call initiative, eh, Teddy? Go to the top of the class, you two, and take a gold star.'

  'Thank you, sir.'

  'Body coming up,' warned Nash.

  Standing, they respectfully removed their hats as, borne by Hardy and Talbot, Luis Pérez passed for the last time along the deck of his ship. Waiting at the boarding ladder, Captain Simmons gave a smart salute to his erstwhile employer before helping to ease the stretcher down and across the caterers' boat and thence into the police launch. It was a tricky manoeuvre, with the two smaller vessels in frenzied motion.

  'That'll be Señora Pérez,' said Rattigan, as a composed-looking Julia, now in black, followed behind.

  Most of the ship's company had assembled to watch, but they parted to allow through the tiny, swollen figure of Lucia Bainbridge, supported with tender care by Andrew.

  'Poor little scrap,' said Yardley. 'Like a pregnant kitten.'

  Dr Edwards stuck his head through the open window. 'Off now, Inspector. Best of luck with it. Be delighted to give you dinner if you have the time. Tell you a few tales about your father's student days, eh? Here's my card. I'll try to get some notes back to you before tonight.'

  'Wait a minute, Doctor,' said Felix. 'Any idea how much he might have bled, when he was first stabbed?'

  The doctor considered this, unconsciously fiddling with his pocket-watch. 'Externally? Possibly not so much. Internal bleeding is usually the problem; although he was dead long before that, of course.'

  'And would it have spurted out?'

  'I wouldn't say spurted, no. Not normally anyway. I'll try and report on that. If you don't mind me saying so, you're beginning to resemble a corpse yourself. Not the you-know-what by any chance?'

  'No, I'm fine. I'll see you later.'

  'Where do you want us next, sir?' asked Nash.

  Felix hesitated for a moment, pressing a thumb and forefinger into his eyelids. 'Dabs all round, I think. If the Senora seems distressed, see if her maid can find you a toothglass or something. She looks calm enough but it may not take much, and we'll need to interview her shortly. Meanwhile, Rattigan and I will visit Olofsson.' But even as he stepped over the deckhouse door's high threshold, all rational thought died, leaving only a rising gorge and a distracted awareness of concerned grey eyes. 'You must excuse me, miss, I'm afraid I have to —'

  'Not that way, Inspector,' said Connie, steering him firmly to starboard. 'The lee side — over there!'

  Chapter 4

  Feeling less nauseous, if thoroughly embarrassed, Felix sipped his boiled ginger. 'I'm so sorry, Miss Harrison,' he said. 'Not the best introduction to Scotland Yard's finest I'm afraid.'

  'Think nothing of it, Inspector,' said Connie. 'I'm a nurse, so I'm used to it. How about you, Sergeant, are you all right?'

  'Oh, Rattigan's got the constitution of an ox,' said Felix dismissively. 'No sense, no feeling.'

  'As a matter of fact, sir,' chuckled Rattigan, 'I paid my dues to Neptune within minutes of coming aboard. Although had I known about Miss Harrison, I might have hung on.'

  'Well, I'll leave you gentlemen to it,' said Connie demurely. 'Just let me know when you want my statement, or any more ginger.'

  They watched her walk with easy grace along the heaving deck and go below.

  'That is a lovely young woman,' said Rattigan.

  Felix raised an eyebrow. 'Praise from Caesar! Yes, she is. Now we really must see Olofsson.'

  Nash and Yardley appeared from aft.

  'We've got them all except Olofsson, sir,' said Yardley. 'Then we thought we might as well do the chartroom. Not that it's likely to be very illuminating, I'm afraid. It might be easier to say who hasn't been in there. How are you feeling now?'

  'I'm told I'll live. Where was the Captain? Didn't he mind?'

  'No, he said it would be a good time but to keep away from the chart-table and instruments, which we did. He's aloft at the moment.'

  'Aloft!' Stepping cautiously on deck, Felix turned his reluctant gaze upwards. High on the Isabella's foremast a tiny figure in a bosun's chair was swinging wildly across the sky. Oddments of rope lay scattered across the deck. 'What the devil is he doing?'

  'Replacing some worn cordage, sir,' said Nash. 'He was halfway through it yesterday but had to stop. He says he can't leave it, in case it blows up nasty and they have to clear out.

  'I thought it was already nasty!

  'They're a race apart,' averred Rattigan, shielding his eyes against the sun. 'I wonder how he got his gong?'

  'Don't you know?' said Nash, sounding surprised. 'It was in all the papers at the time. He was skipper of an armed trawler, the Thomas Tregowen. A U-boat surfaced beside them in fog and shot them up. He lost half his crew and was sinking, so he turned and rammed her, sending them both to the bottom. They were a week in the ship's boat before they were picked up. I remember we cheered when we heard about it.'

  At the bottom of the forrard companionway was a door marked "Fo'c'sle. Crew only," while turning aft revealed the mahogany-panelled corridor leading from the saloon. Here, in the galley, sat and stood the catering staff, the atmosphere heavy with cigarette smoke and bored resentment.

  'We haven't forgotten you,' said Felix. 'Someone will see you shortly.'

  'Constable Buckler let them into the fo'c'sle; a cramped and crepuscular space, lined with curtained bunks and redolent of stale tobacco and unwashed socks. Between the bunks was a narrow table and sitting at it was a very large young man. Like his captain, he wore a full beard – in his case a gingery blond – and his muscles bulged noticeably beneath his faded check shirt.

  'This is Sven Olofsson,' said Buckler, rather superfluously. 'Olofsson, this is Detective Inspector Felix of Scotland yard.'

  Extending a hand, Felix found it engulfed in a huge and horny paw. 'Hello, Mr Olofsson. Are you comfortable in here?'

  Olofsson shrugged. 'Ja, is home.'

  'Yes, I suppose it is. Can you understand English?'

  'Ja, understand. Not so good to say.'

  'Good. You must tell me if something isn't clear. I've come to hear your account of yesterday. I want you to tell me what you did and when you did it, starting with the morning. Do you mind if we sit down?'

  Olofsson gravely watched them settle themselves at the table before beginning. His delivery was slow but measured, with a pronounced Swedish lilt. 'In night we stand watches, one each. First is Skipper. We have breakfast, work on rigging. Yesterday is calm, good for this work. We eat, work again. Then Senora find water in head. We start to fix. Boat come —'

  'That's the caterers' boat?'

  'Ja, for the cooking. I help them while Skipper finish below. Then we go in workshop.' He pulled a face. 'Pérez say, guests must not see us.'

  'You had to hide from them?'

  'Ja, hide!'

  'Then what happened?'

  'I go off watch. Sleep.'

  'When was that?'

  'Eight bells.'

  'What time o'clock would that be, sir?' asked Rattigan politely.

  'I think also eight. I hear Señora call, then Skipper. I go in water, find Pérez. I save, not kill!'

  'So when the Captain called out for you, you were here by yourself. Is that right?'

  'Ja, o
thers ashore.'

  'How long had you been asleep, do you think, when Captain Simmons called for you?'

  Sven shrugged. 'I think, two hours?'

  'And after you got Pérez into the tender, what did you do?'

  'We bring him on deck.'

  'But he was dead?'

  'Ja, dead.'

  'Tell me what happened in the water. When you arrived, was Pérez crying for help or trying to save himself?

  'He was gone down. Twice I dive. Second time I find him, bring to tender.'

  'Was he alive then?'

  Sven considered this. 'I don't know.'

  'What did the Captain do, when you'd got Pérez into the boat?'

  'He . . .' Sven hesitated, gesturing with his hands. 'Make to breathe?'

  'Artificial respiration?'

  Sven looked doubtful. 'Ja. Then they turn him, find blood.'

  'From a wound in his chest?'

  'Ja.'

  'Did you stab Pérez?'

  'Nej, I save!'

  'Then why did the Captain lock you up?'

  'Senora Pérez say I do this. I did not do this!'

  'Why did the Senora say that?'

  'I don't know.'

  'Doesn't she like you?'

  'I thought she liked! She is friendly, always talking!'

  'Do you like the Captain?'

  'Ja! Good skipper. Best!'

  'And what about Señor Pérez? Did you like him?'

  Sven emphatically shook his head. 'I did not like him. But I didn't kill him!'

  'Thank you, Mr Olofsson. That will be all for now. We're going to move you for a few minutes while we search this cabin, and then I'm afraid you'll have to stay here for a little longer. If you promise not to try to escape, you can go on deck and stretch your legs. Sergeant Rattigan will keep an eye on you. Send the others down, Rattigan.'

  Sven looked from one to the other but said nothing.

  'Come along, Olofsson,' said Rattigan, not unkindly. 'You're not going to run away, are you?'

  'Not run. I save Pérez!'

  'Well you come up on deck and tell me all about it.'

  'No cuffs?' queried Felix, when they'd gone. 'He's a big chap. Are you sure you can handle him?'