'He means on either side,' confided Nash. 'But with more on the left than the right.'
'Yes, all right, if you want to spell it out.'
'Hmm, interesting,' said Felix, keeping his voice studiedly neutral. 'Assuming this act of vertical congress took place last night, it could explain a great deal.'
Rattigan nodded with satisfaction. 'There you are then — murder in hot blood, just like I said. Pérez catches them at it. Row ensues. Olofsson, still in the altogether, pursues and knifes him.'
'So you approve of our efforts now, eh Rattigan?' said Nash, raising his eyebrows theatrically.
'I didn't say I didn't. I just said —'
'I haven't finished yet, sir,' said Yardley, beginning to sound cross.
'I thought you probably hadn't,' said Felix, who knew Yardley of old. 'Kept the best till last, I daresay?'
'Not sure about that, sir, but there were some of Señora Pérez's as well, similarly placed.'
'Good grief!' cried Rattigan. 'The fellow's a veritable sheik.'
'I can't say for sure it was the same chap,' said Yardley. 'They're a bit smudged.'
'Well look here, I don't want to spoil a good theory,' said Felix, 'but there could be other explanations, you know. It may all be perfectly innocent. In fact, it probably is.'
'Not all of it, sir,' smirked Nash. 'We found these.' So saying, he produced and held in front of him a crumpled pair of pink knickers.
'Ah! Dabs?'
'Sorry, no,' said Yardley. 'Could be anybody's.'
'Drawing on my extensive experience of the female undergarment,' said Nash, 'I'd say they're most likely young Effie's. The style, you know, and they're pretty well worn.'
'Where were they?'
'Just lying on one of the racks. You'd have to be fairly tall to spot them, though.'
'Well that's an interesting development and no mistake,' said Rattigan, 'Who's going to play Prince Charming?'
Felix threw himself down at the deckhouse table. 'It's a confounded nuisance being stuck out here. You can't telephone, you can't send stuff for analysis, there's no way of processing Nash's plates. You can't even push the confounded chairs back. Where's that police launch with my PM report? It's as if we've been forgotten.'
'It's only half past one, sir,' said Rattigan. 'They've been gone less than four hours.'
'Is that all? Seems like days, staggering around feeling like death warmed up. It's beginning to make me bad tempered. What about you, Teddy? A little birdie tells me you managed to force some food down.'
'Nothing much. Only a couple of sandwiches, and some things called, pinchitos – just meat on sticks, really – and some sort of boiled potatoes in sauce, which I didn't much care for. Not sure how long I'll hang onto it.'
'Rattigan, that's more than I needed to know!'
'Sorry, sir. Tell you what, why don't I ask for some more of that ginger stuff? It does seem to help.'
'Yes it does. The trouble is, we'd probably get Nurse Harrison with it. I can hardly accept her charming ministrations and in the same breath become the fierce inquisitor, which I'm going to have to do.'
'Do you want me to send her away then, sir?' said Rattigan. 'Because here she comes, with a tray.'
'Oh damn! Is the creature clairvoyant as well?'
'I hope I'm not disturbing you gentlemen,' said Connie brightly, 'but Sergeant Yardley said you might appreciate another dose of my miracle elixir. He and Sergeant Nash have had so much, it's a wonder it's not coming out of their ears.'
'What does Nash want with it?' said Rattigan indignantly. 'He's an old Navy man.'
'So was Nelson,' Felix reminded him. 'Sick on every voyage. Miss Harrison, that's most kind of you and much appreciated. I wonder, would this be a convenient time to take your statement?'
'Why yes, all right. Shall I sit down?'
'If you please.'
'Did you want me to, er. . . ?' said Rattigan, half rising.
'Yes, take notes if you will, Sergeant,' said Felix firmly. 'Miss Harrison, Sergeant Rattigan will now record your every utterance with the accuracy of a well-oiled machine. Please treat him as one and ignore him.'
'Oh, the poor man!' cried Connie. 'I can't possibly do that. Do take your ginger, Sergeant. Where would you like me to start?'
Watching her make herself comfortable opposite him, Felix found some difficulty in gathering his thoughts. He'd suddenly decided, apropos of nothing, that he quite liked bobbed hair. It was a question of getting one's eye in. 'Perhaps from yesterday morning,' he suggested. 'I understand you went ashore with your mother and Señora Pérez, is that correct?'
'Yes. Odds and ends of shopping and to see the caterers. You don't want all that do you?'
'No, I don't think so. What happened next?'
'We came back in the harbour launch and brought Mr Woodford the piano tuner with us. Then we had a bit of lunch.'
'Prepared by Giuseppe? What's his surname, by the way?'
'Yes, just a salad. It's González. It was terribly hot so I had a quick dip and then we collapsed into deckchairs. That is, me and Mummy did. Then Maurice joined us. He wanted to do some sketching.'
'What of?'
'Clothes, with me to provide the contents thereof. He wants to be a couturier. Well, he is one, but nobody's noticed yet. So I read my book and let him get on with it. Mummy had her knitting.'
'What about the Senora?'
'She stayed below, tidying up for the party and seeing to Mr Woodford. And then the caterers' boat turned up, so she had to deal with them.'
'Don't you have someone to do the tidying?'
'No. There isn't really room for more servants. Well, there is, but not if you want them to be invisible, which Luis always insisted on. The crew aren't allowed below, except to the fo'c'sle and galley. Only Effie can wander about, and then she has to look as if she's doing something useful. Anyway, Julia's one of those people who are full of nervous energy and likes to keep busy all the time, even if it's only cleaning. Poor Julia — this has hit her so hard.'
'Yes, of course. What happened next?'
'Nothing much, we just lazed about. Giuseppe brought up cold drinks occasionally, and tea at four. Oh yes, and then Effie drifted too close and Mummy pressed her into balling wool until she went off to lay out Julia's clothes for the party.'
'What was Miss Smith doing, before your mother abducted her?'
Connie looked thoughtful. 'I really don't know. Eventually Julia came looking for her, but just before that I'd spotted the harbour launch bringing out the guests, so she went below again to change.'
'How did she seem?'
'Excited. Julia is easily excited. She bounces about as if she's on springs.'
Felix smiled. 'Doesn't Miss Smith have very much to do? Her duties don't sound terribly onerous.'
'No, they're not. I'm sure she must be rather bored a lot of the time. I often lend her my books, although goodness knows what she makes of them. In fact, I leant her a couple last night. Julia gave her the evening off and she wanted something to do with herself.'
'What were they, the books?'
Connie looked surprised. 'Heavens! I don't know. Let me think. Yes, I do, actually. It was Anna Karenina and Germinal. I'm rather scraping the barrel, Effie-wise. It's funny you should ask about her being bored because at dinner Maurice suggested making her operate a punka on a line from her cabin and made us laugh – he can be terribly funny – and Julia remarked that not many young girls get the chance to sail around the world at someone else's expense while doing very little. So I made a joke about it and said I'd try to be grateful and made Luther Baker smile.'
'That's the American gentleman?'
'Yes, he's a sweetie. I like Luther.'
'You don't mind that he deals in arms?'
'Why do you think I would?'
'Just a guess.'
'Well, you're right; I don't like it at all. Unfortunately I'm surrounded by them. I can hardly repudiate my own parents and most of their friends.'
'Tr
icky for you.'
'Well it is.'
'Does Miss Smith have much to do with the ship's crew?'
'Goodness! What a question. Why are you so interested in Effie? Surely you don't think she killed Luis?'
'That seems unlikely, but we have to account for everyone's movements; we can't pick and choose. Was she friendly with Olofsson, do you know?'
Connie looked thoughtful. 'If you mean that sort of friendly, I really can't say. I've seen them talking occasionally, but then I've seen Julia chatting to him too, come to that. I've always thought of him as a sort of harmless troll — huge and nordic and maybe not too bright. I do find it rather hard to see him as a murderer, but Julia says he did it, doesn't she?'
'I can't comment on that, I'm afraid. Coming back to the afternoon, what were your father and Señor Pérez doing?'
'I don't know. I suppose they were working, preparing for their meeting with Luther and Escobar.'
'Does your father never discuss his work with you?'
'Not really. He knows I don't like it — his work, I mean.'
'Doesn't that make things rather difficult?'
Connie frowned a little. 'Inspector, this is getting rather personal. I don't see —'
'No, all right. Scrub that. Tell me about the party. Were you looking forward to it?'
'No.'
'Why not?'
'I didn't approve of it. I'm not a killjoy but . . . you've heard about Jim Parker, our crewman?'
'Yes, a sad loss.'
'I was very upset. I didn't see how they could hold a party barely more than a week later. It seemed so heartless and disrespectful, even with most of the crew ashore. What will they think when they find out? And his mother too, if she hears of it? After it happened it was as if he'd never existed. I didn't expect people to go into mourning necessarily, but they didn't even mention or talk about him.'
'Was he a particular friend of yours?'
'No, not at all. I don't actually have much to do with the crew myself. It's, well —'
'It's all right, I understand. So despite your reservations, you went to the party anyway?'
'Yes, mainly for Maurice's sake. And to avoid a scene, I suppose.'
'Why Maurice?'
'We had an agreement, long before the accident. He asked me to wear one of his frocks at any parties we might attend, to get him talked about. He'd even made last night's himself on the voyage over. He's terribly talented. I didn't want to let him down so I wore it. And then Lucia, who I adore, was unexpectedly there, so I had to try and make the evening a success. Instead, it was awful.'
'Tell me about it. How did it begin? Who arrived first?'
'They all came together in Stan Hobson's launch, by way of the Musket. That's Luther Baker's yacht. I don't know exactly when they arrived because I wasn't there. It was a late decision to wear the frock and it took me a while to get ready. When I came out they were all there, milling about.'
'That was in the saloon?'
'Yes, the usual sort of thing: sherry and chat. I talked to Luther and Maurice and the Bainbridges and then we came up here to dine.'
'Where was Señor Pérez, when you were all in the saloon?'
'He was there too, talking to Colonel Escobar and my father.'
'How did they seem? Happy? Relaxed? Tense? Argumentative?'
'Just ordinary really. Normal. Well, one wouldn't know about Luis, of course. You couldn't really tell what mood he was in because he never showed any emotion. He was a very strange man. His face was disturbingly blank, like waxwork. You know, I can't properly believe he's dead. People used to say that to me and I didn't understand what they meant. Now I do.'
'This was when you were nursing?'
'Yes.'
'Where was that?'
'Oxford. We live near there.'
'Going back to it?'
'Yes, if I can. I've had enough of cruising now.'
'What about when Pérez was angry — would one know that?'
Connie shook her head and blinked. 'Goodness, you do jump about, don't you? I don't think I ever saw him show anger. You wouldn't know he was angry unless he told you.'
'Did you like him?'
Connie paused. 'It seems a dreadful thing to say, but no, I didn't. He carried an unpleasant atmosphere around with him. Not that he ever did me any harm. In fact, we seldom spoke. He might say good morning or goodnight – always "Miss Harrison" – but we never had a proper conversation. He made me feel uncomfortable.'
'Tell me about the meal.'
'It lasted about an hour. It was very hot and I was glad when it was over.'
'I understand from Mr Bainbridge that hard words were spoken.'
For the first time she hesitated. 'It was nothing much. I don't know what I can say about it really.'
'I'd like you to have a go, if you can.'
'Am I obliged to?'
'No, not at all. This isn't a court of law; if you don't want to tell me something, you must say so.'
'I don't want to be obstructive, Inspector. It's just that I might give the wrong impression and mislead you.'
'You wouldn't do that. We'll be asking other people the same things, you know. The more accounts of last night we get, the closer we hope to come to the objective truth. It would be desirable to add yours, don't you think? Just tell me what you personally heard and saw. Whom did you talk to?'
Connie looked resigned and shifted in her chair a little. 'I was between Robert Baker and Colonel Escobar; where I'm sitting now, as it happens. Mummy was on Escobar's right, next to Luis, who was at the head of the table. Robert was talking to Ruby and the people at that end so I concentrated on Escobar. I just wanted to get through the meal, really. We talked about the theatre and literature. He used to be a university lecturer and turned out to be quite interesting.'
'How did he seem?'
'Attentive, quietly spoken, perhaps a little nervous.'
'Of you?'
'Goodness, I shouldn't think so! Possibly of Luther, who has rather a dominant personality. And of course they were in competition for some sort of contract. I think that's what caused the row later.'
'Where was Mr Baker sitting?'
'Where you are now, between Daddy and Lucia.'
'They'd placed these rivals opposite each other?'
'Yes, that wasn't very clever was it? Luther kept staring at us. I got a bit annoyed with him.'
'Jealous, perhaps — of Escobar's attentions?'
'Inspector, really! You make me sound like some sort of femme fatale.'
'No, but you're an attractive young woman. It would be natural for him to look at you.'
'He must be nearly seventy!'
'That, I can assure you, makes no difference at all. What did they have words about?'
'Mummy asked Escobar how he'd become a soldier. Escobar said that even academics sometimes took up arms for a just cause, and Luther said that didn't usually include slaughtering one's own countrymen, to which Escobar replied that Luther's father probably did. I suppose he meant in the American Civil War, which makes it seem like yesterday, doesn't it? He was terribly cross, I could tell, but he kept his temper and so did Luther, and then Lucia came to the rescue and asked about my frock and we started talking about that.'
'Thus avoiding a second Alamo, or perhaps a San Jacinto. What did Señor Pérez say to all this?'
'Nothing. He ignored it. Before that he'd been talking to Lucia and Escobar in Spanish; about Lorca, I think. And now they went back to it.'
'You don't speak Spanish?'
'Yes, but not terribly well. I couldn't keep up.'
'Same here, unfortunately. French is about my limit.'
'You're not something foreign, then? By extraction, I mean — your name.'
Felix smiled. 'No, just boring Hampshire stock, I'm afraid.'
'Sorry, I'm hopelessly nosey.'
'Not at all; you're interested in people. So am I, which is why I sometimes overstep the mark. My job gives me permission to
be nosey, fortunately. Now then, talk of your marvellous frock – which I'd love to see, incidently – brings us neatly to young Maurice and his spat with his stepfather. How did that occur?' He deliberately avoided meeting her gaze but could sense her shrinking into herself a little. Her voice, he noticed, subtly changed.
'He'd invited a friend to the party, a boy about his own age. He was really looking forward to seeing him after being so long away, but the boatman had a list and Jeremy wasn't on it so he left him behind. Unfortunately Andrew told Maurice and Maurice blamed his stepfather, although it may not have been his fault.'
'Didn't they get on?'
'They were oil and water. Inspector, may I talk to you about Maurice please?'
'I thought that's what we were doing.'
'Yes. But what I mean is, I feel I should represent him to you, to explain him.' She began to talk very fast, as if she were afraid he might stop her. 'He's not an ordinary boy, you see; he's sensitive and difficult. He can be waspish and sarcastic and rude and egotistical and will say foolish things just to create a sensation, even if they're not true and could get him into trouble, and all the time he can be scared sick and quaking in his shoes and you'd never know it. He's really rather immature for someone of nearly twenty but he can also be witty and gay and generous and loyal and kind and I love him. As a friend, I mean,' she added hurriedly.
Felix sat back and looked at her. 'Miss Harrison, that was a most exquisite little character sketch. I've a mind to make you do one for all of them! But you know, we're not going to rough him up or anything. When the time comes, I'll ask him what questions I need to, which he may or may not wish to answer, and as long as he's done nothing wrong, he has nothing to fear.'
'But that's the trouble!' cried Connie. 'I don't know if he has! I just know he wouldn't kill anyone, or even physically hurt them. I just know it!'
'And did you really think,' said Felix, 'that you were doing the right thing by looking for that torch? Were you going to hide it or throw it away?'
Chapter 6
'Well, there goes my last clean handkerchief,' said Rattigan sourly. 'If you're planning to distress any more maidens you'll have to provide your own.'
Felix dismissed this irritably. 'Don't be cross, Teddy. How could I not ask her? Anyway, she knew exactly what she was doing, including the tears.'
Death on a Dark Sea (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 2) Page 10
