'I can't rule it out, but given his light physique and the probable murder weapon, I think it's rather unlikely.'
It seemed that she must have been under more strain than he'd imagined, for relief flooded her lovely countenance and her chin began alarmingly to quiver. Sitting urgently forward, Felix took her hands in his and shook them. She looked surprised but didn't pull away. 'Miss Harrison, please! I'd rather play button-boy on the Isabella's mainmast than see you cry again, so don't do it. Here, have this handkerchief. Rattigan thinks I've run out of them but I alway keep one for brave young women who cooperate with the police.'
Connie firmly handed it back. 'I'm not a child, Inspector,' she chided. 'Just tell me what you want me to do.'
Felix inwardly groaned. He was making a fool of himself, as he'd known he would. 'I'm sorry; you're most certainly not a child. I'd like you to go and see young Maurice and give him a good talking-to. Remind him, if he needs reminding, how serious a matter this is. Then bring him up to the deckhouse and stay with him while I take a fresh statement. If he looks disposed to show off or fib again, give him a sharp poke in the ribs. I want the truth this time, but I don't want to have to arrest him to get it. What do you think? Can you do that?' He stood up to go, but the ship chose that moment to give a sudden malign lurch, causing him to flail for a handhold and nearly fall back on the bed. He fervently wished himself, in all senses, on firm ground again.'
Connie helped him up. 'What I think, Inspector, is that under that stern exterior there's a very sweet man. Give me a few minutes and I'll bring you Maurice, suitable chastened. And I'm truly sorry about the torch.' She leaned out and called after him. 'And ask in the galley for some more ginger; you look terrible.'
Felix decided not to tell her they had their own supply. He wondered if "very sweet" trumped "cuddly." It did in his book.
Chapter 8
Still typing, his sergeant regarded him sardonically over his glasses. 'Got you on the run, has she?'
'Rattigan, you're too damned beady.'
'That's why you keep me. Am I permitted to ask?'
'Why should you not? She's going to work on Maurice. I've also seen Simmons, Harrison, the Señora, and young Effie. I'm replete with half-digested information.'
'I wondered where you'd got to. How was Mamma?'
'Remarkably perky, and not wearing very much.'
'Look out Humphrey, then?'
'I doubt it. More likely some muscular matelot. She'll be fighting her maid for the sail-locker.'
'Did she fib about it, Effie?'
Felix nodded resignedly. 'Within her limitations, a bravura performance. She ought to be on the stage. She told me one useful thing, though. The Senora noticed what must be our chisel in the aft bathroom, late yesterday afternoon, together with the tin. A certain delicacy prevented me confirming the exact time with her, although we may have to. The chisel's gone, of course, but the tin is still on the shelf. It's plumbers' sealant, not paint, but it appears to have red lead in it. The lads are busy on it now.'
'Would that rule out Olofsson, do you think?'
'It may well do. Simmons confirmed he'd left it behind by mistake and had decided to wait until after the party to retrieve it. He says he didn't tell Olofsson, so he wouldn't have known it was there.'
'He could be lying to protect him.'
'Well yes, he could. But he also pointed out that Olofsson would never have risked going through the ship while the party was on. He'd been told not to show himself, and was terrified of Pérez, which I can well believe.'
'So where does that leave us? If you eliminate Olofsson and Simmons, which of our suspects had theoretical access to the chisel? I make it Maurice, Luther Baker, Harrison and Escobar. Presumably we can forget the Baker kids.'
'If it was them I'll give up and breed horses.' Felix glanced along the deck. 'Hello, that was quick! I'll have to tell you about Harrison later.'
Holding Connie's hand, Maurice resembled a naughty boy, brought back to say sorry. No sooner were they seated than he began to tumble out his story like a catechism.
'I'd made up my mind to leave — leave forever. I packed my bags and descended into the caterers' boat, intending to borrow it to go ashore. The engine cover was locked, so I returned to the galley and stole a knife. While attempting to gain access to the engine I heard a splash. I didn't take much notice at first but then I heard noises and realised there was someone in the water. It was very dark, but then I saw Pérez at the aft boarding ladder. There's a port behind it and I could see him by its light. He began to climb and then, I suppose, fell off.
'You definitely saw him climb the boarding ladder?'
'Begin to, yes.'
'Would you swear to that in court?'
'Yes.'
'Why do you say you suppose he fell off? Didn't you see him fall?'
'No.'
'Why not?'
'When I saw him on the ladder I decided to climb out too. I was afraid I might not be able to get away in time and he'd catch me trying. I was very frightened of him. When I heard Mamma cry out that he was in the water I didn't know what to do, so I waited until everyone seemed to be gathered aft and then returned aboard.'
'What happened to the knife? What sort was it?'
'A chopping knife. I threw it away.'
'Over the side, I suppose?'
'Yes.'
'And did you go to Miss Smith's room?'
'Yes. I was afraid I'd be accused of pushing Pérez in. I wished to establish an alibi.'
'And did you push him in?'
'No!'
'What did Miss Smith say, when you asked her to lie for you?'
Maurice hesitated. 'She agreed. It was kind of her. I don't want her to be in trouble over it.'
'Where did Pérez come from if you didn't push him? Was he in the caterers' boat with you?'
'No. He must have fallen from above.'
'How would he do that? There are the rail and bulwarks to prevent it.'
'I don't know; I didn't see. I just heard the splash.'
'Was it a loud splash?'
'Reasonably so, I suppose. It rocked the boat.'
'Did you look up, to see if there was anyone on deck?'
'Yes, but it was too dark.'
'Why didn't you use your torch?'
'I was afraid Pérez would see it and find me. I didn't know it was him in the water until I saw him climbing out.'
'All right, Mr LeFevre,' sighed Felix. 'You may go. The sergeant will type up your statement and we'll ask you to sign it later.'
'Yes, all right. Thank you.'
They watched him scuttling away as if the ghost of Luis himself were after him.
'You don't believe him, do you?' said Connie.
'Do you?'
'I don't know. It seems plausible. It's what he told me before, more or less.'
'I'd say it was good in parts,' said Felix, 'like the curate's egg. But thank you so much for your efforts, Miss Harrison. They really are most appreciated.'
'Which parts of the egg can we rely on, sir?' asked Rattigan, when she'd gone.
'Well, we can be pretty sure he was in the boat, because of the torch, and if it's what he told Miss Harrison, I'm inclined to believe at least some of it. He seems to look upon her as a big sister, almost. It's perfectly plausible that he'd decided to clear out, and he'd have no reason to lie about damaging the engine cover, unless, I suppose, he was shielding someone. The splash fits with what the Baker kids heard, which gives some support to the rest. The alibi business is nonsense, of course. I suppose it's theoretically possible he stabbed Pérez, but it seems unlikely to me. He would have had to pinch the chisel from the aft bathroom, hoping for a chance to waylay him and attack him with it. But would he have known it was there? His cabin is feet away from the forrard bathroom, so that's probably the one he uses. If he did find it, would he have had the guts or the strength to use it, a scrawny, effeminate little chap like that? And why choose that rather improbable implement
when he could lay hands on a nice, sharp kitchen knife?'
'Well someone did,' said Rattigan. 'and I don't see why he couldn't have come across it. Someone might have beaten him to the forrard bathroom, obliging him to use the other one, or he could have been visiting his mother and seen it then. And he might not have intended to use it as a weapon. He might just have thought it would make a jolly good jemmy for the engine-cover. Pérez sees him and maybe goes for him, and he's sufficiently frightened to stab him with it in self-defence.'
Felix reached for the ginger, now sadly depleted. Was he unconsciously trying to justify what he'd told Miss Harrison? It was possible. 'You make a good case Teddy, I'll say that. Better than you know, in fact. The blood on the deckhouse is almost certainly Escobar's. Humphrey squashed his nose for him.'
'Did he now! Which means it could well have happened on the caterers' boat, so a good deal easier to put Pérez in the water. I must say, I've often wondered about that blood.'
'So have I. It's been a nuisance from the start. But realistically, can you honestly say you suspect Maurice?'
'No.'
'Good grief! Can I have that in triplicate?'
'I do take character into account, sir, though you mightn't think it. I just don't think we can rule him out.'
'No, all right, we can't. And, yes, he could have pushed him in from the boat, even if he didn't stab him. I can well believe that. What I find interesting is his claim to seeing Pérez mount the aft boarding ladder. I've been wondering for a while if he was still alive when he went in, and if he was, how he'd set about climbing out again. However he got into the water, he maybe saw Maurice, who held no love for him, looming above him in the caterers' boat and decided to go for the aft boarding ladder instead, drifting down to it on the tide. Or maybe the sides of the boat were too high for him to get out that way. He was a sick man, after all. If he did climb the aft ladder, apart from proving he was still alive at that point, it opens up another interesting possibility. It occurred to me when in the aft bathroom that someone could have stabbed him through the port as he was climbing out. It's perfectly easy to do it; I tried it myself.'
'Baker?'
'Probably.'
'Your preferred suspect.'
'Yes all right, he is.'
'Motivation?'
'Something to do with the contract? Hell, I don't know!
'And what about Humphrey? Have you eliminated him? Instead of taking a knife to defend himself against Escobar, he could have taken the chisel with him instead. If he'd called into the aft bathroom on his way upstairs he'd have seen it there. Baker couldn't have known that Pérez would be climbing the boarding ladder just as he was using the head, so would he have reacted that quickly? And he hadn't much of a motive – not to my mind anyway – whereas Humphrey was undoubtedly livid with his boss. If he unexpectedly came across him on deck he had both motive and opportunity.'
'Well I suppose we can't entirely rule him out, but the chisel would have been a bit unwieldy as a weapon of defence. He would have had to conceal it crossing the saloon – in his inside breast pocket, I suppose – and once on deck he'd scarcely have had time to use it. There can be little doubt that he attacked Escobar, who's got the swollen conk to prove it, and Robert said it was probably them he heard arguing behind the deckhouse, which is where the bloodstains are. And why would he lie about it? A minute or two later the kids heard a splash, which was surely Pérez going in. Would he really have beaten up Escobar, then encountered and skewered Pérez before he'd so much as got his breath back? Not to mention dump him over the rail, single-handed. And, incidently, he's a much nicer chap than we gave him credit for.'
'Sounds like it!'
'Well I admit he's got a temper.'
Rattigan appeared about to argue further, but instead shrugged. 'All right, let's say not Humphrey. So who put Pérez in the drink in the first place, Maurice or Olofsson? Must be one of them, mustn't it?'
'Almost certainly. It might even have been both.'
'How do you work that out?'
'Think about it. Hello, here's Hobson's launch. Maybe it's our blood result.'
Rattigan eased himself out from behind his typewriter. 'In that case, I'm just going to pop downstairs, sir. If you don't mind.'
Moving with a speed that belied his bulk, Rattigan hurried down the aft companionway and across the saloon. Baker, he noticed, had his feet up and appeared to be dozing, and Ruby was chatting amicably with Mrs Harrison, who was, as ever, knitting. 'Coming on,' he remarked.
'A pullover for Humphrey,' she said. 'For the winter.'
That's assuming he's at liberty to wear it, he thought, and passing into the forrard corridor was gratified to see his quarry step out of her cabin.
'Sergeant Rattigan. Just the man I hoped to see.'
'Yes, Miss Harrison?'
'Tell me, am I allowed to ask you something, as one ordinary person to another? Or do you have to be off-duty for that?'
'Certainly you may, miss. I can't promise to answer, of course.'
'Well, I was wondering, actually,' she lowered her voice conspiratorially, 'about poor Inspector Felix, I feel so sorry for him with his seasickness. He looks so miserable and washed out. And you, of course; although I think you're feeling better now, aren't you? I was wondering, is he married? Will he have someone to look after him, when he gets home?'
Rattigan smiled and shook his head. 'Never you worry about that, miss. The Inspector isn't married, no, but he's well able to look after himself. You mustn't be fooled by the fancy clothes; he's as tough as they come. We have to be.'
'Thank you, Sergeant. That sets my mind at rest. And I'm sure you're all terribly brave. I do hope you didn't mind me asking.'
'Miss Harrison.'
'Yes?'
'Since I've got you, I'd like to ask you something now, but this time I'm afraid it's official. You don't have to answer, of course, but if you do, it might make things a lot easier, for everyone.'
He saw her expression abruptly change.
'Well actually I was —'
'It won't take a minute. If we could just pop into your cabin?'
'Oh. Well all right.'
Once inside, Rattigan turned and bolted the door. 'Just so as we're not disturbed, miss. Now then, I'll just take out my notebook. If my memory serves me right, you weren't in the saloon when Señora Pérez raised the alarm, Where were you?'
'Oh, that. Lucia – Mrs Bainbridge – needed the head. She wouldn't let anyone go with her but I followed her anyway, just to make sure she was all right. I was only gone a minute or two.'
'And then you came back together?'
'No, not together. I went myself, as I was there.'
Rattigan nodded. 'Can you prove that, Miss? Would Mrs Bainbridge have seen you go in, for example, or come out?'
Connie's face and neck had turned scarlet. 'No, she'd gone by then. Sergeant, the Inspector never asked me this. Why do you want to know?'
'Because it matters, miss. It matters a great deal. Can you prove you were in the head, after Mrs Bainbridge left you?'
'I . . . Yes.'
'How?'
'Because someone saw me, when I came out.'
'Who was that?'
'It was Luther Baker, actually.'
'And what happened then?'
'I . . . We went into the study.'
'You and Mr Baker?'
'Yes.'
'And might I ask what you were doing there, miss?'
Connie looked suddenly defiant. 'We were making love, Sergeant.'
'I see. And what form . . . ?'
'We were kissing! You don't have to look at me like that. I'm twenty-two — it's legal!'
'Your life is your own, miss. I wouldn't ask if I didn't need to. And while you were in the study, did you hear a splash, or any noise that might suggest an attack on Señor Pérez?'
'No, nothing. But we'd closed the door.'
'Yes, I suppose you would have. And where were you when Señora Pérez
cried for help?'
'Coming out. We'd just stepped into the corridor.'
'Having completed your lovemaking?'
'Yes, Sergeant.'
'What happened then?'
'We ran to her.'
'Both together?'
'Yes. Well no, not quite. Luther did, but I went back into the bathroom — just for seconds really. She seemed to be right overhead, so I thought I might be able to see Luis out of the port.'
'And could you?'
'No. I couldn't get my head out enough, so then I rushed on deck too.'
Rattigan silently completed his note-taking. 'Right. Now this is a very important question, miss, very important indeed. While you were in the bathroom, especially that last time, did you happen to notice a mucky old chisel, such as one might use to open or stir a tin of paint?'
'Why, yes, I did! It'd been there since the afternoon, together with the tin. I'd meant to ask about it.'
'And it was still there, that last time you went in?'
'Yes . . . yes it was, on the shelf.'
'You're completely sure? Still there when Señora Pérez cried out?'
'Yes, completely. I couldn't fail to see it, when looking out of the port.'
'And by then Mr Baker had gone?'
'Yes.'
'Are you sure of that?'
'Yes!'
'Bearing in mind the importance of what you're saying, miss, can you absolutely confirm that? Would you swear to it in court?'
Connie looked frightened. 'Yes, I would. The chisel was there and Luther had gone.'
'And where do you suppose it it now, miss?'
'Good heavens, Sergeant, I don't know! I haven't the first idea!'
Rattigan turned to unbolt the door. 'All right, miss, thank you. That's going to be a great help. If you don't mind, this will form part of your statement which we'll ask you to sign. And I must also ask you not to mention to anyone what you've just told me.'
'No, all right. Sergeant, please wait a minute.'
'Yes, miss?'
'Must the Inspector know about this?'
'Yes, miss, I'm afraid he must.'
'What I mean is, couldn't you just say we were talking? I could have told you that and you'd be none the wiser. It's hardly going to make any difference, is it?'
Death on a Dark Sea (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 2) Page 15
