The Mammoth Book Of Roaring Twenties Whodunnits Part 49

"I suppose so."

"Splendid. Now, then." I tried to remember how proper barristers went about it; but that was a long time ago, and I was never paying much attention at the best of times. "The other witnesses I've spoken to have given me a fairly good idea of what happened, but I'm hoping there are some points you can corroborate for me. We're reasonably confident that however Lady Julia came to harm, it couldn't have been in the dining room or the first cla.s.s saloon; and the doctor informs me that if cyanide in any effective form had been administered before dinner, it would have taken effect long before Lady Julia went out on deck. Accordingly, we believe that the fatal act what we lawyers call the actus reus must have taken place on the boat deck."

I paused, mostly to congratulate myself on remembering the Latin tag. It's pretty much all I do remember of my criminal law. She said nothing, so I went on.

"As I understand it," I said, "at approximately a quarter to eleven, you were standing at the rear of the boat deck, quite close to the rearmost lifeboat derrick."

She frowned. "I'm sorry," she said, "I'm not familiar with nautical jargon."

"The steel crane arrangement that the boat hangs from."

"Ah," she said. "In that case, yes, I was."

"Very good. Now, three other witnesses have confirmed that during the relevant time approximately a quarter to eleven until the moment of death, something like ten minutes later n.o.body pa.s.sed them coming down the boat deck from forward I'm sorry, from the front end of the ship; and I was hoping that you can tell me if anybody came past you from the back end going forward."

She frowned, clearly wrestling with the mental geometry of the thing. "You see," I went on, "if that's the case, we can be pretty sure that the person who administered the poison must've been one of the four ladies who were standing chatting with Lady Julia just before her death. But if anybody else was pa.s.sing by during the relevant time "

"I see," she interrupted. "No, n.o.body came past me, I'm certain of that. I was waiting for my husband to join me, he'd stopped in the bar to talk to some people and said he'd meet me on the deck, and I was looking out for him; he'd been rather longer than I expected."

Quite, I thought. "That's fine," I said. "Most helpful. May I ask, did you see Lady Julia collapse?"

She looked rather embarra.s.sed. "I'm afraid not," she said. "As it happened, I was looking the other way. Of course, as soon as that woman screamed "

"Thank you," I said. "No further questions."

She took the hint and pushed off (just like a particularly stout, well-feathered old Welsummer hen that used to belong to my aunt Stephanie in Gloucestershire) and I had a moment or two to a.s.similate what I'd learned from her before the next exhibit turned up.

As I think I mentioned, I'm something of a student of mystery fiction. My guess was that next guest was, too; accordingly, I altered my manner a little.

"Sit down," I snapped, as he shut the door behind him.

He gave me what I suppose he thought was a cool, insolent look, and slid into the chair. "Sure," he replied. I'm not the world's best at accents, particularly American ones, which can be so hard to pin down; but even I could recognize a native New Yorker.

"You aren't wearing your hat," I said.

He frowned. "Pardon me?"

"Your hat," I repeated. "A particularly foul blue-grey fedora. Sears Roebuck, at a guess, but I don't claim to be an expert."

"I got a fedora," he replied, more puzzled than anything. "What about it?"

"Where is it?"

He shrugged. "d.a.m.nedest thing. Blew right off my head into the ocean, just now."

"You mean," I said, "you deliberately threw it over the side, to get rid of it."

He opened his eyes wide. "Why would I do a thing like that?"

"Oh, several reasons." I shrugged. "Vestigial good taste, for one. Or maybe-" Here I leaned forward a little. Basil Rathbone does it rather better. "Maybe you didn't want to be recognized."

He shrugged again, took out a cigarette and lit it. "Sorry, mister," he said, "I don't get you."

Well, I'd had my fun. I yawned a little, then leaned back. "So," I said, "what sort of stuff do you deal in? Scotch?"

He took it pretty well. "Mostly" he said. "Also brandy, some wine. Cla.s.sy stuff."

"Naturally," I replied. "The sort of thing you can't just buy in Canada and lug over the border in a truck. Still, it's a lot of trouble and expense to go to, isn't it? Hardly worth your while, after expenses."

He smiled. "It was a whim," he said. "I'm telling the truth, I had to go to London on business other business, nothing to do with you know what and well, it seemed a shame to go home empty-handed, you know? So "

"Quite," I said. "Just out of interest, how did you get it on board?"

He chuckled. "Easy as pie," he said. "I had a few fellows row out one night when the ship was in dock, before we set out. We climbed up the side with a rope, hauled up the booze and stashed it. n.o.body gave us any trouble. Couldn't get away with that in the States, not without you bribe a lot of guys. You people don't know security from nothing."

I thought for a moment, then nodded. "Fine," I said. "That's all, for now." He stood up, warily. "By the way," I added, "the captain's got some stewards out looking for you."

He looked at me. "Is that right?"

I nodded. "You were seen lurking round the lifeboats just before the murder. He's bound to ask you why. You may care to get a few answers ready for him and well, make a few arrangements."

His eyes narrowed. "I might, at that," he said. "Thanks." He paused. "You're being mighty helpful," he said.

"Thank you."

"Why?"

I smiled. "Enlightened self interest," I said. "You see, I'm going to be spending a bit of time weeks, possibly a couple of months living in your fair city, and as I understand it, there's a degree of difficulty about getting hold of certain home comforts I wonder," I added, "do you happen to have a business card or anything like that?"

He grinned, and produced one. "Just ask for Johnny," he said, and left.

I'd saved the next interview till last, partly because after coping with all those strangers, I needed to see a friendly face; and unless you're of an age to remember the likes of Emily Fowler and Jessie Bond, no friendlier face has ever graced the London stage than that of my final witness.

"h.e.l.lo, Jill," I said. "Darling," she replied, registering pleasant surprise. "I didn't know you were on board."

I shrugged. "It was all terribly last-minute. A royal summons." I lowered my voice. "Ziegfeld."

"Oh, dear." She pursed her lips. "Putrid?"

"So I'm told," I replied, "though of course I've yet to view the body, so the extent of the putrefaction remains to be seen. But it must be pretty rotten, or he wouldn't have sent for me."

She nodded. "I'd heard rumours," she said. "But you hear that sort of thing about every big show."

"So you do," I said. "You're not in it, are you?"

She laughed. "Heavens, no," she said. "Nothing so splendid, I'm afraid. Just some run-of-the-mill old thing that Jerome and Plum and Bill are putting together, and which'll probably close in Newark."

"I doubt it," I said, politely. "Anything good for you in it?" She shook her head. "I bounce on in the middle of the first act clutching a tennis racket," she replied, "and it sort of goes downhill from there. There's supposed to be a nice dance routine somewhere in Act Two, but it'll probably be cut by some interfering play-doctor."

"Those brutes," I said sympathetically. "Still, it's America. Splendid chance to bag a millionaire or two."

She gave me a look. I rose above it.

"Seriously," I said. "Sooner or later, one of those goofy-eyed young exhibits I'm always seeing cl.u.s.tered round the stage door is going to wear you down by sheer force of persistence, and then who am I going to write smart soubrette patter-songs for?"

She thought for a moment. "Jessie Matthews," she said. "No, really," she added, "she's much better than people give her credit for. Excellent diction."

I shrugged. "I hope you're right," I said. "It's hard enough as it is without knowing that your words are going to be chewed up and swallowed by some lisping half-wit who never learned how to breathe."

She smiled. "Don't worry," she said. "I have no plans to retire just yet. But come on," she added briskly, "aren't we supposed to be talking about this dreadful business with poor Julia?"

"I suppose we should," I replied. "England expects, and so forth. Very well." I sat up straight, just the way my mother would have liked. "You were with the deceased on the boat deck at approximately ten forty-five last night?"

"Yes, officer."

"Known her long?"

"Oddly enough, no," she replied. "I may have b.u.mped into her at parties, but I don't remember saying two words to her before we met up on this boat."

I nodded. "How about the other three harpies in your little throng?" I looked down at my sc.r.a.p of paper. "Cynthia Berry, Diana Butler and Jane Armitage. I spoke to them all just now, of course, but I couldn't tell 'em apart if you paid me. Who are they?"

She smiled. "n.o.body much," she said. "People's wives, I think. Let's see; I played baccarat with Diana and Jane the night before last, and Julia played bridge with Cynthia and Jane two nights before that." She sighed. "That's the h.e.l.lish thing about being on a boat," she said. "You're cooped up with people, and can't just remember a prior engagement when they want to be your friend."

"Dire," I agreed. "So, all five of you, chance acquaintances." I paused. "You've got a gold Cartier cigarette case."

"Had," she replied with a frown. "That tiresome captain made me give it to him, which means I've had to smoke beastly Sullivans all morning. Do you think you could be terribly sweet and get it back for me?"

"It might be possible," I said. "In fact, here it is, hiding under my notes."

"Angel," she said, and reached for it; but I held it back, and opened it.

"Help yourself," she said.

"Not just now, thanks," I replied. "You will please remember that I'm still on duty, and therefore not at liberty to accept offers of refreshment from members of the public. This was the case you handed round last night?"

She nodded. "Julia had run out, and the other three are all the most frightful cadgers, but one must be polite."

I glanced down at the open case. There were ten cigarettes on the right side; the left side was empty. "And the other three Diana and Cynthia and whatever her dratted name is they all helped themselves and no ill effects."

"And me too," she pointed out.

"And you too." I looked at her. "So it'd have been impossible for some horrible murdering person to have slipped a poisoned cigarette cyanide, for instance into this case, on the slim chance that Lady Julia would pick that particular cigarette, smoke it and die."

"Well, of course." She raised her eyebrows at me.

"That clears that up, doesn't it?" I sniffed the cigarettes, then closed the case and slipped it into my pocket. She watched me, but didn't say anything.

"The problem is," I said, "that we've got a dead body, and what looks depressingly like a murder, but not the faintest whiff of a motive. Can you think of one, Jill, dear?"

"No," she said. "But of course, I don't know the first thing about her."

"You'd never met her before this voyage," I replied.

"That's what I just said." A slight pause; then, "Don't you believe me?"

"Of course I believe you. But." I hesitated. After all, it really was none of my business. It was the most infernal liberty on the captain's part, conscripting me to be his master sleuth when all I want to do with what's left of my life is earn a little money and spend it pleasantly. One has a duty, of course, to society; but I maintain that I discharged that duty for good and all, one foggy morning in 1917, when my hopeless sense of direction led me astray in a muddy h.e.l.lhole in France. Death did well out of me that day, and I owe him no more lives.

Nevertheless; "But," I repeated, "I have an idea that you did know Julia Harkness quite well. At second hand, I mean; by report."

"Not really. She'd retired by the time "

"Quite so. She retired, I think, in '04 wasn't the last thing she did that Pinero revival? and married her fabulously wealthy war profiteer, the way you wonderful actresses do, and suddenly came over all respectable; and although her husband died relatively young and their union was never blessed with issue, I seem to remember reading or hearing somewhere that there's a couple of nephews young fellows, about your age who stand to inherit, of course, now that the old lady's popped off."

"Is that so? I don't "

"I believe so," I said. "Which would be a stroke of luck for them, I suppose, if either of them was contemplating what my dear mother used to call an injudicious marriage; you know, someone a bit shady, with a reputation, an actress or something of the sort. I suppose it's the old poacher-turned-gamekeeper thing, but I'd heard that Lady Julia had a positive horror of the family money falling into the paws of some wretched little gold-digger. Imitation, presumably, not being the sincerest form of flattery, in her view."

"I have no idea," she said coldly, "what you're talking about."

"Of course not," I said. "But another thing I remember, just a snippet of silly gossip; some fool was telling me that you'd been seeing rather a lot of young Bertie Allsop, and wasn't his mother ?"

She gave me a look I won't forget in a hurry. "Mary Ormerod, yes," she said. "What a memory you have, to be sure."

"Only for the trivia of my profession," I replied. "From memory, the Ormerod sisters started off in the Gaiety chorus in eighty-something, but Mary married a solicitor or something awful like that, and it was Julia, always reckoned the plainer of the two, who went on to make a name for herself." I laced my fingers together, rather too tightly for comfort. "May I take it that congratulations are in order?"

She was quiet for a long time; then she laughed. "Splendid, darling," she said. "And you're quite right, Bertie and I were secretly engaged at Christmas, but of course we didn't dare tell the old hag about it, she'd have cut Bertie off without a shilling. So yes, I couldn't be more pleased that wretched Julia dropped dead, positively at my feet, like a scene out of one of her dreadful melodramas. And of course," she went on, "you're thinking that perhaps I had something to do with it."

"The thought had crossed my mind," I confessed.

"In that case," she said sweetly, "you might care to tell me how I did it."

"You poisoned her," I said. "Cyanide, which you'd brought with you from England, in a cigarette."

"Really." She looked at me as though I was a poor idiot child. "And maybe you can tell me how I contrived matters so that she got the poisoned one, rather than me or Cynthia or Jane or what was that stupid woman's name?"

"Diana," I said. "Actually, I can, and it's really rather simple. At first," I went on, "I wondered if the other three were in it with you, but I scrubbed round that pretty quickly; they genuinely were perfect strangers to you, and it could have messed things up dreadfully. Fortunately, they were women of excellent taste, and so everything was all right."

"Please don't talk drivel, darling. It's giving me a headache."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm quite p.r.o.ne to headaches myself, as it happens. For instance, I always get a headache when I smoke those revolting Turkish cigarettes that are so popular these days. Honestly, I don't know what people see in them."

"Neither do I."

"Of course. But," I went on, "lots of people adore the filthy things, which is why the pleasant custom has grown up of filling one's cigarette case with Turkish on one side and Virginia on the other. Curiously, according to the maid who cleaned her cabin, Lady Julia only ever smoked Balkan Sobranie such a misleading name, because of course they're as Turkish as the Blue Mosque. Which made me wonder; what if there was a cigarette case with plenty of Virginia on one side, and just one solitary, sad little Turk on the other? a.s.suming, of course, that the other ladies in your circle have the good taste to smoke G.o.d's own Players."

"Rather a big a.s.sumption, don't you think?"

"Lucky guess," I replied, "but also borne out by the maids who empty their bedside ashtrays. I give you full credit for high-cla.s.s fieldwork, by the way; watching who Lady Julia spent time with, taking note of what they smoked."