'Sir?'
'I was, as Rattigan would say, paying my dues to Neptune. Have you met Effie Smith yet?'
'Yes, we've spoken a couple of times. She's just gone in with the Señora, as it happens.'
'What's she like?'
'Trouble in t-bars. Thinks she's Clara Bow.'
'Thanks for the warning.'
Julia Pérez's door was answered by Effie. She proved to be little more than five feet tall, her elfin face framed with shingled and waved auburn hair. Felix found it hard to imagine her with the hulking Olofsson.
'Who is it, dear?' called Julia.
'Inspector Felix, Señora.'
'Oh my goodness! Hold on a minute inspector, Je suis déshabillé.'
'Please don't dress on my account, Señora.' called Felix. 'It's actually Miss Smith I wanted to see.'
'No it's all right, you can come in now. I want to know how you're getting on.'
As they had discovered from the blueprint, the Pérez's cabin was relatively large, spanning the full width of the hull. In its furnishings it resembled an ultramodern studio flat, with two single beds incorporated into fitted furniture to port, and a sofa, armchair and low table, in glass and chrome, to starboard. There were several deep-pile rugs in a fashionable abstract design, and a door in one corner presumably led to their private shower and head. Felix wondered how it would have looked after the knockdown, particularly the table. A clue might lie, he thought, in one of three Picasso oils of the cubist period, which was badly torn.
Julia had thrown on a black chiffon peignoir. She was wearing makeup, had washed her hair and seemed unnaturally bright. Bereavement, he knew, took some people that way. Or perhaps Maurice had been right.
'They're originals,' she said, as if he were bound to ask. 'I told him they'd spoil but he said it didn't matter as he could always commission some more.'
'Very nice. How are you feeling?'
'Much better, thank you, Inspector. I'm so sorry we didn't finish our interview.' She indicated the sofa. 'Would you like us to do it now?'
Felix shook his head. 'I don't think we'll need trouble you again.'
'And was it Olofsson?'
'I can't comment on that at the moment, I'm afraid. We should have some news for you shortly. Would you mind if I borrow Miss Smith for a few minutes?'
'Have her by all means. Do you want to talk to her here?'
'No, we'll pop into the study. It won't take long.'
Producing his key, Felix ushered Effie into the now deserted cabin. It had been comprehensively dabbed, photographed and searched, unfruitfully, for anything pertinent to the case.'
'Now then, Miss Smith. I'd like you to tell me, if you will, what you did yesterday evening, from the time you laid out the Señora's clothes.'
Gazing speculatively up at him, Effie looked as though she might try coquettish, appeared to decide it wouldn't answer, and settled for adult and responsible. 'I didn't do much really, sir. I helped the Señora dress and then she said I could have the evening off. I'd rather have done something useful but I couldn't, so when the guests arrived I stayed in my cabin and read a book. It was really hot and stuffy.'
'Was that the Anna Karenina?'
'Yes it was! How did you know?'
'Miss Harrison mentioned she'd lent it to you. I found it rather hard going. Did you enjoy it?'
'It was all right. I like reading.'
'Sad about the monkey, though?'
'Yes, I didn't like that bit very much.'
'So you stayed in your cabin all evening?
'Yes. There was nowhere else to go really. Then Maurice knocked and we sat and talked and then we heard the Señora cry out. It was really horrid and I didn't know what to do for her. She's being terribly brave.'
'And until then, you never went out of your cabin?'
'I . . . Well, I went to the head.'
'When would that have been?'
'I don't know the time. Quite late.'
'Are you great friends with Maurice?'
'I don't know about great friends. I like him, he's fun. He says funny things.'
'Are you friends with the ship's crew, or don't you mix?'
'I talk to them, yes. They tease me a bit though.'
'What about Sven Olofsson, do you talk to him?'
'Yes, sometimes. He doesn't speak English very well.'
'Is he your boyfriend?'
'I haven't got a boyfriend!'
'Well, I expect you soon will have. Do you ever go in the sail locker?'
Effie looked at him wide eyed. 'Yes, sometimes. Why?'
'Not to help with the sails, surely?'
'No, of course not. I like it there; it's peaceful. I go there to be by myself.'
'And have a smoke?'
'Yes, sometimes.'
Felix smiled avuncularly. 'Thank you, Miss Smith. Just one more thing. In your opinion, did the Señora and Señor Pérez get on well together? Was it a happy marriage?'
Effie's expression recalled Humphrey's when asked the same question.
'I don't know, sir. I don't know what to say about that.'
'Well, did they have rows, for example? Most couples do sometimes.'
'Oh no, sir, never. Not in front of me anyway.
'No, all right. Oh and by the way, I'm asking everyone this: do you happen to have seen an old chisel lying about the place, covered in red paint?'
Effie brightened. 'No, but the Señora has! She said it was in the aft bathroom and she'd have to tell Captain Simmons about it. There was a tin of plumbing stuff too, and that's still there.'
'When did the Senora tell you about the chisel?'
'Yesterday, just before the party.'
'And did she tell the Captain?'
'I don't know.'
'Thank you very much, Miss Smith. That could be useful.' He reached out and opened the study door for her. 'I think that will be all for now.'
'Was that my statement sir?' asked Effie doubtfully. 'Aren't you supposed to write it down?'
'No, I don't think we'll bother with that. Run along to your mistress now.'
He found Yardley and Nash busy with insufflator and camera. 'I need something about as long as the chisel might have been.'
'There's a loofa in the shower.'
'That'll do.'
They watched, intrigued, as pushing open the port, Felix held the loofa at about the right length and stabbed viciously between the rungs of the boarding ladder. He was able to make it reach without greatly extending his arm. All a killer had to do was wait until the climbing victim presented his upper abdomen and strike. With his head by then above the level of the port, Pérez wouldn't have know what hit him.
'Is that how it was done, sir? What about the bloodstains on deck?'
Felix sighed irritably. 'That's the problem.'
I'll be walking with a roll at this rate, he thought, as rather to his surprise he found himself negotiating the heaving corridor with almost seamanlike confidence. Peering briefly into the saloon, he noted that Winifred Harrison was ensconced in her usual corner – what a tranquil woman she was! – but Humphrey was nowhere to be seen. He turned sharply with the air of a man who had forgotten something and, retraced his steps. Then, putting an ear to the door of the Harrisons' cabin, he knocked, briefly paused, and walked in.
Humphrey was sitting on the edge of the bed studying a stapled document. He glanced up indifferently at the interloper. 'Yes, do come in Inspector. Take a pew.'
'Are you rich, then?'
'Fifty thousand.'
'Congratulations.'
'I shan't be taking it.'
'Why not?'
'Because that, if you like, is about twenty-five thousand rifles. As you rightly pointed out, they'll have killed people.'
'So do motor cars.'
Humphrey sighed heavily and neatly folded the will before sliding it into its stout manilla envelope. 'Inspector, I know I disgraced myself earlier and I'm sorry for that. In my defence, I can only say that I was thoroughly rattle
d by the events of last night, and also by something else which I haven't told you about. Just for the record, I loathed and detested the man and feel only relief that he's gone. Not that I've behaved much better. As for the odious self-justification, I've been doing it for seven years; you can't simply turn it off like a tap.'
'I don't think we'll add that to your statement,' smiled Felix. 'People might get the wrong idea. Why did you feel the need to justify yourself?'
Because I like to think that beneath it all I'm still a good person, and I care about that. After the war I found myself jobless, with a wife to support and two bright kids to educate. Yes, I know there were millions in the same case, but that included rather a lot of accountants, many of them more able than I. I knew perfectly well what I was going into and I didn't care for it, but I felt it might be my only chance. I fully earned my salary, and that, at least, seemed honourable enough, but I can't take this money; it's a step too far. In a way, I'm glad he's left it to me, so I can refuse it.' He looked up and chuckled. 'God, that sounds sanctimonious, doesn't it?'
The fitted furniture incorporated at the corner a kind of club chair, and Felix gratefully dropped into it. He offered Humphrey a cigarette 'Not Murads, I'm afraid. Don't we all sell our soul to the Devil in one way or another? My own sins are not dissimilar, as it happens. In fact, I'd say I'm more culpable than you. You can invoke the motor car analogy, whereas I have to fall back on the sanction of society.'
'I suppose you mean capital punishment. That's how this is going to end, isn't it?'
'Quite possibly, yes.'
'How many so far?'
'Hangings? Five. It would have been six but one has just died awaiting trial. That's quite apart from the war, of course.'
'But they were villains, murderers and so on. Isn't that different?'
'They were people, not rabid dogs. Some of them were bad lots certainly, but a couple were, in my view, simply victims of circumstances. Perhaps in a way they all were. It's a cruel, barbaric, unchristian business, and every time it comes to that I contemplate getting out. But I don't — the Devil wins. What was the "something else"?'
'Ah, the grasshopper mind again. I attacked Escobar.'
'Physically?'
'Yes. It was when we were on deck. He was walking away from me all the time I was talking to him. That was annoying enough, but then he insulted me, told me I was just a pencil-pusher, or words to that effect, and had no business interfering in his deal with Luis. We happened to be standing by the deckhouse. I grabbed him by the collar, slammed him against the wall a couple of times and held him there while I said my piece. He made off with his hand to his face, so I expect I hurt him. I'm not proud of it. Are you going to arrest me?'
Felix wearily shook his head. 'I've better things to do. I only wish you'd told me before.'
'Why? It can't have any bearing on anything.'
'I'm afraid it has. If you'd gone back in daylight, you'd have seen that you drew blood. We thought it was Pérez's, although I'd begun to have my suspicions. It makes all the difference.'
'Oh Lord!'
'Oh Lord indeed. We did ask for full details of your movements. Now you can see why it matters. Now tell me, and this is on the record, did you see or hear anyone else, while you were robustly negotiating with your customer? The murder must have happened very close to that time, and very close to you, come to that.'
'If it did, I swear I didn't see it, and all I heard was the Baker kids talking, somewhere on the starboard side. They probably heard us too. I was afraid they'd come to investigate.'
'What did you do after that?'
'Like I told you, I went to see Albert.'
'But not immediately. Can you estimate how long you were alone?'
'As I said before, I shouldn't think it was five minutes.'
'Where did you go?'
'I crossed the deck and leant on the rail, looking landward. I contemplated going below but was afraid I might encounter Pérez. I didn't want to speak to him.'
'Did you tell the Captain about your spat with Escobar?'
'No. I wasn't sure I should. I'm not in the habit of attacking people and was in a bit of a two and eight about it. I thought it possible that Escobar wouldn't complain and no-one need know. If he'd done so, of course, my goose would have been cooked. That's if it wasn't already. I probably would have told him eventually – he's a good friend – but then the Baker kids walked in.'
'How long were you together, before they arrived?'
'Again, only minutes — four or five. The twins had scarcely walked through the door when we heard Julia cry for help.'
'Who got to the Senora first, when she cried out?'
We did, then Escobar. Winifred and Baker came soon after.'
'Which of them came first?'
'I don't know. We were too busy launching the tender to take much notice.'
'You were in the boat?'
'Yes.'
'Who pulled Pérez into it?'
'Mostly Albert. It was difficult. Then Albert got to work on him while I rowed us back. We were falling astern.'
'What would have happened if no-one had seen him, do you think?'
'The tide was on the ebb. Assuming he didn't wash up somewhere, he'd have drifted down the coast until he went under. I wish he had.'
'Why do you say that?'
'Because whoever killed him doesn't deserve to swing for it, Inspector, as you will no doubt agree.'
Felix grinned. 'I suppose I asked for that.'
Gathered around the table in the saloon were the catering staff. Grantham made the introductions. 'We were cluttering up the galley,' he explained.
Mrs Teague smiled at him. 'Inspector, thank you so much for letting me go. I've been that worried about my boy. He can be such a little scamp when I'm not there.'
'It's I who should thank you, for your forbearance,' said Felix, 'And you gentlemen, of course. I think you might as well all leave now if you want to. Just one thing, though. While you were washing up, do you remember hearing an altercation – shouting or perhaps a fight – from the direction of the bows or from the fo'c'sle?'
They silently conferred. 'No, nothing like that,' said Mrs Teague. 'But it would've been a bit noisy, what with the clattering of the plates, and Ken is a devil for whistling. I tells him, he's like a flipping canary.'
'I wasn't whistling.' protested Ken. 'Not loud anyway. Giuseppe was singing though.'
'No, all right. I'll leave you to gather up your things. Here's my card. Show it to the sergeant on the police launch and say I said you could go. Or they'll be leaving in a minute or two, if you want to wait. Then you won't have to untangle yourselves.'
They needed no urging and immediately set off for the galley. Felix followed Mrs Teague's homely rump until he came to what he presumed to be Connie Harrison's door. It was a little while before she answered his knock, giving him time to wonder if this was such a good idea.
'Miss Harrison, may I speak to you briefly, in private?'
Connie smiled. 'Yes of course, Inspector. Do you want to come in? It's a bit untidy, I'm afraid.'
Feeling strangely nervous, Felix stepped inside. Her cabin proved to be a fraction of the size of those aft, but pleasantly bright, and filled, as was everywhere aboard, with the restless reflection of water. The ubiquitous fitted furniture here comprised a rather narrow double bed; a dressing table – the usual feminine appurtenances restrained by a fiddle-rail – a chest of drawers, and an over-filled wardrobe with its contents threatening to spill out. There were red curtains at the port and a matching counterpane on the bed, under which was tucked a well-worn stuffed toy of indeterminate species.
'That's Algie,' said Connie.
'Hello Algie,' said Felix.
There was little scope for the personal touch, but postcards, photographs and other mementos were everywhere pinned to the cream-painted matchboarding, with pride of place given to several foolscap-size pencil drawings.
'He's caught you ve
ry well,' he remarked, studying them.
'Aren't they marvellous? The middle one was done yesterday. How tall are you?'
'Six foot two and a half in my stockinged feet.'
'Well you'd best sit down or you might damage the half.'
It appeared to be a choice between a tub chair, like the one in her parents' room, and the bed. Decency dictated the bed, on the edge of which he precariously perched.
Connie decorously arranged herself opposite. 'No Sergeant Rattigan?'
'This isn't strictly an official visit, Miss Harrison. First of all, I want to say how sorry I am that I upset you earlier. There are other ways I could have approached the matter and I made a mess of it. You've been very kind to us and it was unforgivable.'
Connie shook her head. 'You needn't apologise, Inspector; I thoroughly deserved it. You'd have been well within your rights to be very cross with me, as I'm sure you really are.'
Felix thought of her father. He had knowingly sacrificed his integrity for his family, and she had done so for her friend. They were at once admirable and flawed, and he reflected, not for the first time, on how hard it must be to judge a human soul. No wonder they resorted to weighing them. 'Miss Harrison, I don't expect people to be perfect; I'd be bored and out of a job. I'm going to ask you a favour, which you can, of course, refuse. You needn't tell me what young Maurice did last night if you don't want to, but let me picture the scene for a moment. He's had rather too much to drink, he's bitterly disappointed at the non-arrival of his boyfriend, and he's so angry with his stepfather – on whom he lays the blame – that he's prepared to insult him in front of his guests and business associates. He flees the deckhouse but is pursued by Pérez and ordered to his cabin. Nervously awaiting his just and proper punishment, he decides he might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb and sets out to pinch the caterers' boat and go ashore in it, no doubt hoping for a tryst with the flame-haired Jeremy. None of which would be of much relevance if he hadn't been perfectly placed to witness an extremely brutal murder, which, whatever he might have told you to the contrary, I'm inclined to believe he did. If so, it's vitally important that I get a statement from him — an accurate one.'
Connie gazed at him with troubled eyes, then looked down at her lap. 'You don't think he killed him, then?'
Death on a Dark Sea (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 2) Page 14
