Lily considered this as she shuffled down the hallway, careful to avoid the off-limits storage room, lest she get yelled at by Oxley too. Could she feign interest in someone like the gangly Oxley in order to advance her rise to stardom? Lily wasn’t sure. Straightening her shoulders, she entered the dressing room she shared with Joy and started to warm up for the night’s singing.
Chapter Four
Nora wore a pink beaded cocktail dress that floated around her calves in whips of tulle to dinner. She was lucky that she had nice calves with these new shorter hemlines. Nora was determined to be trendy, even if some of the new fashions were a bit awkward to wear; like those cloche hats that kept falling down and covering her eyes, and the drop waists that she kept catching herself trying to pull up. And don’t even get her started on the cigarette holders—all the movie stars looked so elegant with them but the cigarettes made Nora cough. Those things couldn’t be good for your health, could they? But she did it all anyway. She wanted to do her part to be modern and help bring women forward.
Aunt Julia looked classy in an elegant peacock-blue dress that fell to her ankles. She accentuated the plain dress with strings of waist-length opalescent beads. At her age, she wasn’t very interested in the latest fashions, but still made an attempt to look nice.
The dining room glowed with chandelier lighting. Outside it was dark, but lights could be seen on the riverbanks as the ship floated past various towns. The clank of dinnerware and the hum of conversation mingled with the smells of dinner that permeated the air.
“Oh look! There’s Martha!” Aunt Julia tugged Nora in the direction of the woman they’d met earlier in the lounge. She was seated at a table with her son.
“Hello, nice to see you again. Isn’t this lovely?” Julia gestured to the room as members of a small band took their places and started to play soft music.
“Yes, it is.” Martha appeared a lot happier now as she turned to her son. “This is my son Beauregard. Beau, this is Nora and Julia Marsh.”
“Lovely to meet you.” Julia frowned. “But where is your lovely wife?”
“She’s not feeling well.” Martha looked as if she’d been presented with the most wonderful gift. “So it will be just Beau and me tonight.”
“That sounds lovely, but I hope it’s nothing serious,” Nora said.
Martha glanced at Beau who fiddled with his fork. “Just a cold. I told her to rest so it didn’t get worse.”
“Good then.” Aunt Julia glanced around the room. It was filling up with people taking their seats, which had been assigned so that guests could get to know one another. “Well I suppose we should find our table. Enjoy dinner.”
Nora and Julia had found notes in their cabin assigning them to table eight. As Nora scanned the room, Aunt Julia whispered in her ear, “Did you see the look on Martha’s face? She was in her glory to have Beau all to herself.”
“I did notice that. Though Beau didn’t seem quite so happy. Anyway, I suppose that explains why the wife ran out the side door earlier. Perhaps she became suddenly indisposed.”
Aunt Julia frowned. “Maybe.”
Nora spotted their table over by the windows. “There’s our table over there.” She turned to her aunt. “Really, Aunt Julia, not everything has suspicious undertones, you know. Maybe you’ve been too immersed in your murder mysteries.”
“I don’t know. People often have sinister motives in real life, too.” Aunt Julia pasted a smile on her face and proceeded to the table, which was already occupied by their dinner companions.
They took their seats and introductions were made. Across from Nora sat Birdie and Walt Smithson, a young couple clearly more interested in each other than anyone else at the table. To her right were Percival and Irene Montford. She recognized Percival as the gentleman who was almost bowled over by Johnny Stokes. Speaking of Stokes, Nora wondered if he was still stumbling around. She searched for him as the rest of the introductions were made and soon spotted him making his way over from the staircase. His gait was steady; apparently whatever had hampered his stride at the reception had worn off. He took his seat at the table with the Hinchcliffes. Nora’s gaze fell on the table behind that, the one right next to the door that led backstage. Max Lawton sat alone, watching the door as if waiting for something… or someone. Delilah?
“… Don’t you think so, dear?” Aunt Julia’s question pulled her attention back to the table.
“Sorry, Auntie… what was the question?”
“Her brooch… isn’t it lovely?” Aunt Julia was pointing to the woman next to her who had introduced herself as Beulah Entwhistle. Beulah’s fingers fluttered around a diamond-studded brooch in the shape of a bird clasped at the neck of her modest black dress.
“Just beautiful,” Norah said.
“Thank you. Harold gave it to me as an anniversary gift.” She looked adoringly at the man beside her. “Forty years.”
“Oh dear, that is a long time!” Aunt Julia, who had never been married, seemed horrified at the prospect of spending that long with someone.
“That’s why we’re on this cruise. It’s an anniversary gift from our children,” Beulah said.
“That’s very nice. How many do you have?”
Nora picked up the menu as she half-listened to the Entwhistles chatter on about their children. The menu was varied. Some standard southern dishes like gumbo and some more gourmet selections. The anchovy relish might be nice and an avocado salad to start. Then purée of pea soup, maybe a lamb chop—
“Well at least they have something normal like steak,” Percival piped in from beside her.
“I don’t know, we’re on the Mississippi, shouldn’t we have collard greens and chicken-fried steak? I hope there is shoofly pie for dessert.” Percival’s wife, Irene, peered over the top of the menu at him.
Percival shut his menu and started digging in his pockets. “Well, whatever it is, I hope they come and take our order soon. How long is this confounded thing going to go on for anyway? Where in the world did I put my pocket watch?”
As Percival became more agitated, Irene put a hand on his arm. “Now, dear, you probably left it on the dresser.”
Percival huffed, air moving his white mustache. “I did not leave it on the dresser!”
“You have been a little forgetful lately, Percy,” Irene persisted.
Beulah leaned across the table. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about at our age. I’m always forgetting things. Isn’t that right, Harold?”
Harold nodded.
Percival scowled and patted down his pockets again. “I just had the darn thing at the reception earlier and I am not senile. I used to be a respected doctor!”
Several people at the next table looked around at his loud proclamation and everyone sat there awkwardly for a few beats.
Aunt Julia broke the silence. “Has anyone read any good books lately? I’m reading the latest Ridley Howes mystery and it’s quite thrilling. Do any of you read him? He’s simply brilliant!”
Nora snorted and held her napkin to her mouth to cover it up. To everyone else the question probably sounded like casual small talk, but Nora knew it was a way for her aunt to get praise for her books. She supposed she deserved it: Julia put a lot of work into the books and it grated on her not to be able to take credit.
“I do enjoy the books, but I thought the one before was a bit preposterous,” Beulah Entwhistle said, before giving her order to the waitress.
“Preposterous?” Aunt Julia was offended. “How so? I’ll have the sliced tomato salad, clam broth and prime rib.” Julia handed the menu over and the waitress continued to take orders.
Beulah leaned in. “It was the poison. I mean, how would one have access to so many different poisons? And would natural ones really be strong enough to kill?”
“Oh, you’d be surprised.” Aunt Julia launched into an explanation of how the most innocent looking of plants can be poison, going into great detail about the various varieties to look out for. Beulah
’s eyes started to glaze over but thankfully dinner came before she zoned out completely. They tucked in and all mention of poisonings ceased.
The meal was as delicious as Giles promised it would be. Once the plates were cleared and coffee was on the table, Delilah Dove came out in a black gown glittering with an impossible number of rhinestones.
Aunt Julia leaned over. “That gown must weigh twenty pounds.”
Nora nodded, though it didn’t seem to impede Delilah’s movements as she swirled gracefully from table to table. There were two singers accompanying her, but they blended into the background with their nondescript black dresses, plain black shoes and lack of jewelry, especially in contrast to Delilah’s sparkling ensemble. Nora recognized one of them as Lily Sumner, who they’d met in Delilah’s dressing room earlier.
Clifford Oxley stood by the door that led backstage, overseeing the entire thing. Norah had the fleeting thought that maybe he was trying to make sure that she and Aunt Julia didn’t try to sneak back there again, but as he watched Delilah sing, the scowl on his face turned sweet. Maybe Delilah brought out the best in him.
Nora took the opportunity to study the crowd. Most were enraptured by Delilah’s performance. Not Beau Hinchcliffe, though. He squirmed in his seat, probably counting the minutes before he could to get away from “mother” and back to his beautiful wife. Johnny Stokes managed to sit upright in his chair the entire time. Had he been drunk at the reception? And what had Aunt Julia been drinking?
When the music turned to a faster pace, Stokes got up to dance, which he did effortlessly with no evidence of his prior stumbling… until he tripped over a chair and almost landed in someone’s lap. Perhaps he was just clumsy.
Nora loved dancing, so when a gentleman came to ask her to dance she was eager to get up on the floor. The band was good and the music lively and she discovered that dance partners were in good supply. She must have danced with every single man in the room. Not Max Lawton, though, he had left right after dinner. Perhaps he hadn’t been looking for Delilah after all because he didn’t stay for her singing. Nora had heard from one of her dance partners that there was a poker game in the forward salon. Maybe Max hadn’t been watching the door at all and had simply been waiting for the game to start. Nora chided herself for imagining all sort of suspicious motives. She was getting as bad as Aunt Julia.
The night was filled with friendly conversation and dancing. Nora was exhausted and when she finally collapsed into bed at midnight she fell into a deep sleep. Which was why it was so startling when she was awakened by a scream two hours later.
Chapter Five
June 13, 1926
Nora leapt out of bed and fumbled for her robe as she tried to get her bearings. It took a few seconds. She bolted for the door, her bathrobe fluttering behind her as she tried to shove her arms into the sleeves. Her first thought was to make sure Aunt Julia, who had the room next door, was okay.
Aunt Julia was looking into the hallway herself and, upon seeing Nora, she stepped out. She was wearing silk embroidered slippers and a thick robe over her nightgown. As they stood there trying to figure out where the scream had come from, cabin doors opened and passengers popped out their heads. One of those was Dr. Montford, another Beau Hinchcliffe.
Nora’s suspicious nature and training in human behavior had her studying them. They were both wearing nightclothes. Had they been roused from sleep? She thought Beau had, given the way he was rubbing his eyes. Dr. Montford’s hair, though, was perfectly combed, his eyes alert as if he’d been awake.
Heavy footsteps pounded on the metal stairs. A man appeared on his way to the sun deck above. “It came from up there! Hurry!”
They followed him up the stairs, which were placed in the middle of the deck. To the right was the pilot house; to the left a small crowd had gathered at the railing above the paddle wheel. The boat shuddered as it slowed. Two men hopped over the safety railing that Giles had warned Aunt Julia to be careful near earlier. One of those men was Max Lawton, the other a gentleman named Gus, who Nora had danced with.
Nora elbowed her way up to the railing and looked down. The paddle wheel was making its last turn, dredging up a mass of turquoise chiffon made almost transparent by the water. A hand, its red lacquered fingernails a contrast to the pale white skin, stuck up from a bejeweled cuff. It was the dress Delilah Dove had worn for her last number.
“Oh no! It’s Delilah!” A woman with a short blonde bob and a pale-green dress shrieked.
Norah recognized the woman, who had been at the railing when they had arrived, as one of the backup singers. It did not escape her notice that the woman was not in her nightclothes like the rest of them.
A stern-looking Sven Nordby joined them, with Lily Sumner right behind him. Lily went straight to the other singer and hugged her. They stood side by side and Lily put her arm around her, her jet bracelet and black beaded shawl glittering in the moonlight. It was more a measure of comfort than to ward off any chill since it was quite warm out.
The boat drifted slowly, a cool breeze ruffled Nora’s hair, carrying with it the smell of the river.
Sven scowled at the crowd. “What has happened?”
“Someone fell overboard!” Percival Montford huffed, reaching in his pocket and coming up empty. Apparently he still hadn’t found his pocket watch. “I’m a doctor, let me examine her.”
“Is she… is she…?” Vera Hinchcliffe stood on the tiptoes of the fluffy pink ostrich-feather slippers that matched her robe to see the two men haul Delilah’s body up from the paddle and over the railing. They placed her flat on the deck so Dr. Montford could do his examination. Norah had a pretty good idea that no amount of examining was going to help Delilah, judging by the gash on the side of her head.
Sven didn’t look at all sympathetic as Percival bent over the body. Aunt Julia pushed forward for a better look. Dead bodies didn’t faze her; on the contrary, they intrigued her. She’d seen enough of them.
Julia stepped over to the railing. Crouching down with a dexterity that belied her age, she reached out onto the safety platform. What was she after? Nora caught her eye but Julia shook her head subtly so Nora simply shrugged and turned her attention back to the crowd around Delilah.
Max Lawton stood staring down at the body, his fists clenched at his sides. Nora wondered if her earlier suspicion about them being romantically linked was true. He certainly wasn’t falling to his knees in despair, but his expression of disbelief and disappointment indicated that he’d lost something very important to him.
Dr. Montford stood from his inspection with great effort. “She’s gone.”
The crowd gasped.
Vera shrieked and clung to Beau.
Sven Nordby started back toward the pilot house, but Aunt Julia, who had returned to stand beside Nora, interrupted him. “Mr. Nordby, did you see anything? You have a bird’s-eye view from the pilot house.”
Sven’s perpetual scowl deepened. “No, ma’am. I’m piloting with eyes forward. The river might look nice and calm to a layman like you, but there are dangerous rocks and one must be alert at all times. And even if I were not, I could not have seen anything.”
Aunt Julia looked surprised at that statement. “Oh, and why is that?”
“The smokestack hides the view.” Sven turned and marched back toward the pilot house, drawing their attention to the wide smokestack which did, indeed, hide the sight of the paddle from the pilot house.
“Huh, I suppose he has a point.” Aunt Julia tapped her fingers on her lips, her face screwed up in thought.
Nora was about to ask her what she’d been reaching for on the safety platform when a new group of people came rushing up. Nora recognized them as members of the band. Two saxophone players, a drummer and Clifford Oxley. They all had nightclothes on, Oxley in a black silk robe and the others in much less-expensive garb.
“What is going on? I heard that—” Oxley’s gaze fell on the body, cutting off his words. He stumbled forward and fell to
the ground next to it. “Delilah? No!”
He looked at the crowd, his expression helpless, then, shaking his head, looked back at the body. He picked up her lifeless misshapen hand, caressed it and then placed it back down on the deck before burying his face in his hands and starting to cry.
Now there was the reaction of a lover! Norah glanced at Max Lawton. He was looking down at Oxley with his gaze narrowed, his expression suspicious. Not really the reaction of a rival lover, but still interesting.
“What is the commotion?” Giles Hendricks came up behind them, his face falling as he took in the scene. “Oh, dear me. No. Not an accident on the maiden voyage. This is not good. Not good at all.”
Aunt Julia leaned over and whispered to him. “Sorry, Giles, it might be worse than you think. I’m not quite sure this actually was an accident.”
Giles managed to herd the onlookers to their cabins before Aunt Julia could spill her guts to too many of them. The body was removed to the lower deck and Giles ushered Julia and Nora to the smaller lounge on the Texas deck.
Nora pulled her silk robe tighter over her wide-legged oriental-style pajamas. She was glad she didn’t prefer those sheer nightgowns that were all the rage. It would have been awkward to stand around with the other passengers wearing something like that.
Giles wrung his hands together nervously. “Now, Julia… why in the world would you think this wasn’t an accident?”
“Well, as you yourself pointed out on our tour earlier today, there is a safety railing and a safety platform beyond that. It would be almost impossible to fall into the paddle wheel accidentally.”
Murder on a Mississippi Steamboat Page 3
