When she woke up the next morning, she was still as angry at her husband as before. Gilpatrick was not allowed to enjoy his customary lie-in. She shook him until he was roused from his slumbers.

‘What’s going on?’ he mumbled, blinking in the light.

‘I want to speak to you, Rance. Wake up.’

‘Why did you shake me like that? I thought there was some kind of emergency.’

‘There is,’ she declared. ‘It concerns our marriage.’

He saw the clock beside his bunk. ‘It’s not even seven yet!’

‘Who cares?’

‘I do, Maxine. A guy needs his sleep. Get back in your bed.’

‘Not until we’ve had this out,’ she said, hands on hips. ‘I’m not going to holler at you as I did last night. I just want you to know how upset I am at what you did. I’ll never forgive you for that.’

‘For what?’ he asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

‘Having Jenny watched like that.’

‘I thought I had good cause.’

‘Well, you didn’t. You acted outrageously.’

‘That’s not what happened, honey.’

‘No,’ she retorted, simmering with rage. ‘What happened was that, between the two of you, you and Tommy Gault robbed me of the best friend I’ve made since we came onboard. You also lost me my accompanist for the song recital.’

‘We’ll find another.’

‘I don’t want another. I want Jenny Masefield.’

‘Then we talk her around. Let me fix it.’

‘That’s the last thing I’m going to do,’ she stormed. ‘You keep well away from Jenny in the future. And if Tommy Gault ever gets within twenty yards of her, I’ll brain him. Keep him away from her or you’ll be sleeping alone in this cabin from now on.’

He was hurt. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Exactly what I say.’

‘Look, take it easy,’ he soothed. ‘You’re getting this out of proportion.’

‘No, I’m not, Rance. This is how I see it,’ she said, folding her arms and glaring her defiance. ‘Last night, Jenny and I had the best rehearsal so far. It was so good it actually settled her nerves. Before you butted in, we were in a wonderful mood.’

‘You had every right to be, Maxine. I heard you sing.’

‘Then why couldn’t you just applaud and then take me out of there?’

‘Because I came to speak to Miss Masefield.’

‘You came to accuse her. I know that look of yours. You thought you’d caught her out and bided your time until you could spring your little surprise on her. Jenny is beautiful, unmarried, and over the age of twenty-one,’ she reminded him. ‘She can invite the entire crew into her cabin if she wishes to – only she doesn’t want Tommy outside the door, counting them as they go in.’

He reached out for her. ‘Maxine—’

‘Don’t touch me!’ she said contemptuously, backing away.

‘We can sort this out between us.’

‘You’ve done enough sorting as it is. What on earth possessed you to have Jenny watched? She’s completely harmless.’

‘I wasn’t sure about that.’

‘Why not?’

‘Oh, little things,’ he said impatiently. ‘You knew I had doubts about her from the start. That’s why I asked you to find out a little more about her.’

‘I’m not doing your spying for you, Rance. That’s not my idea of a wifely duty. Besides,’ she insisted, ‘there was nothing to find out.’

‘I felt that there was. Especially after that guy Dillman showed up.’

‘He’s a friend of hers, that’s all.’

‘Then why did she deny it at first?’

‘Jenny didn’t. She merely said she didn’t know him all that well.’

‘She knew him well enough to invite him into her cabin.’

‘Now we know why. Honestly, Rance,’ she went on, teeth bared, ‘I’ve never felt so humiliated in my life. What you did to that woman was appalling. How would you like it if another man was snooping on me?’

‘I thought he might be. Indirectly.’

‘Who?’

‘Nobody,’ he said, wanting to terminate the discussion. ‘Listen, honey, why don’t we get another hour’s sleep, then have breakfast together?’

‘I’m not sharing a table with you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You still don’t see why I’m so riled up, do you?’

‘Of course I do. I made a mistake and I’m sorry.’

‘An apology won’t cover the damage you inflicted last night.’

‘Come back to bed.’

‘No,’ she snarled. ‘I don’t even want to be in the same room as you!’

‘There’s no need to yell. People will hear us in the next cabin.’

‘Let them hear us!’ she shouted.

‘Maxine!’

‘I still haven’t got the truth out of you yet. Why did you want me to keep an eye on Jenny in the first place? And what was it about this Mr Dillman that aroused your suspicions?’

‘It doesn’t matter now,’ he said wearily.

‘I want to know, Rance.’

‘Take it easy, will you?’

‘And if you say that to me once more, I’ll throw something at you,’ she said, grabbing a vase of flowers to prove that it was no idle threat. ‘I’m your wife, or had you forgotten? Married couples are supposed to share things.’

‘Put that vase down.’

‘Tell me what I want to know first.’

‘Put it down,’ he ordered, getting out of bed to snatch it from her. ‘And stop pushing me. You’re not the only person who can get angry.’

‘Don’t threaten me, Rance. I’m still waiting.’

He put the vase back on the table. ‘You wouldn’t understand, Maxine.’

‘I think I’m beginning to understand only too well.’ Gilpatrick turned to look at her. Curbing his anger, he sat on the edge of the bunk with his head in his hands. When he looked up at her again, he made an effort to control himself. He spoke with deliberate slowness.

‘Here’s how it looked from where I was standing,’ he explained. ‘No sooner do we get on the ship than Miss Masefield suddenly pops up out of the blue.’

‘She was playing the piano. I couldn’t resist singing. That’s how we met. Jenny made no attempt to seek me out, Rance. How could she when she’d never set eyes on me before? Jenny didn’t just pop up. I chose her as a friend.’

‘You chose her, but I didn’t. I confided my suspicions to you at the start. Now,’ he said, wiping a hand across his mouth, ‘a few days later, Mr Dillman turns up on the boat deck. I don’t know why. He certainly doesn’t have a cabin there. He seemed a pleasant guy and he knew a fair bit about the Minnesota. And I admit that I had a good laugh at him when he took a shot at Tommy’s stomach and almost broke his hand. Off he went and I forgot all about him. Until – lo and behold! – he’s seen slipping into Miss Masefield’s cabin.’

‘By the man you stationed outside.’

‘I thought I might learn something.’

‘Why?’

‘I told you before. I wanted to know what her game was.’

‘Jenny is a passenger. She has no game.’

‘It looked funny to me. Her and Dillman getting together like that.’

‘What did you think the pair of them were doing?’

‘Comparing notes about me.’

Maxine bit back a reply. Her rage was slowly replaced by a feeling of disquiet.

‘Is something going on, Rance?’ she asked.

‘No, honey.’

‘You’re up to your old tricks, aren’t you?’

‘Of course not.’

‘You swore to me that this was a kind of honeymoon. There might be a little business involved, you said, but it wouldn’t get in the way. Well, so far it’s been all business and no honeymoon,’ she said, advancing on him. ‘Do you know what I think, Rance Gilpatrick? I don’t believe you wanted me here as your wife at all.’

‘I did, Maxine. I love you.’

‘You just needed a decoy, didn’t you?’

‘No!’

‘What are you up to this time?’

‘Some minor transactions, that’s all.’

‘Was that why I was locked out of my own cabin yesterday?’ she said with heavy sarcasm. ‘So that you and the bellowing Joe McDade could discuss a minor transaction?’

‘You get the benefit in the long run.’

‘I’m more concerned with the short run, and there are very few benefits in that.’

‘Maxine,’ he protested. ‘I’ve done everything you wanted.’

‘Like insulting my friend and making her pull out of the concert?’

‘Who arranged the concert in the first place?’

‘You did,’ she conceded.

‘And who fixed it so that you can use the orchestra’s piano?’

‘You did.’

‘Then there were the posters I commissioned.’

‘Don’t mention those,’ she snapped. ‘Why didn’t you discuss it with us before you hire some guy you know nothing about? This David Seymour-Jones may be a terrific artist, but he also happens to be the one man on the ship that Jenny can’t bear.’

‘That’s not my fault.’

‘It’s all your fault,’ she said, crossing to the bathroom and pausing in the doorway. ‘Now, I want you out of here when I get dressed. Is that understood?’

He was shaken. ‘No, it isn’t.’

‘I’m not stripping off while you’re in the bedroom.’

‘But I’m your husband.’

‘No, Rance,’ she said pointedly. ‘You’re still the same cheap crook you were when I first met you. I thought you’d changed. Now you have money, I thought you didn’t need to sail so close to the wind. But you do and you always will. I don’t know what’s going on this time, but I want no part of it.’

‘Maxine,’ he said, crossing to her with outstretched hands.

‘Keep away from me.’

‘Listen,’ he said, searching for ways to appease her. ‘I’ll make it up to you. I’ll fix it so we dine at the captain’s table today. I’ll have flowers sent to Miss Masefield as an apology. I’ll even swallow my pride and beg her to play that piano for you. Just tell me what I can do, honey, and I swear I’ll do it.’

‘Then get lost!’ she said.

Disappearing into the bathroom, she slammed the door in his face.

When the purser called on him, Dillman was still in his dressing gown. Mike Roebuck noticed the bruising on his temple and frowned with concern.

‘Did he come, George?’

‘Yes,’ said Dillman. ‘He came and went.’

‘What happened?’

‘His jujitsu was more effective than my boxing skills.’

‘Tell me all.’

Dillman gave him an account of events during the night, admitting freely that his adversary was too elusive for him. The frown on the purser’s face deepened.

‘Why didn’t you come straight to me to report it?’ he asked.

‘What was the point of that, Mike?’

‘I could have started a search.’

‘Where? By the time you’d rustled up some men, he’d have gone to ground somewhere. On a ship this size, there must be thousands of hiding places. It would’ve been a complete waste of time.’

‘The guy tried to kill you.’

‘Unsuccessfully.’

‘But he might have come back for a second crack.’

‘No chance of that,’ said Dillman proudly. ‘I gave him too warm a welcome. In any case, he’s after Mr Blaine and not me.

I don’t think it took him too long to realise that I couldn’t possibly be Mr Blaine. That’s why he ran away.’

‘I think I’d run away if you pounced on me.’

‘I failed, Mike. I set the trap and he walked straight into it. Then he escaped.’

‘I did tell you to have someone else in here with you.’

Dillman smiled. ‘I never share a bedroom with another man.’

‘Not even if he might save your life?’

‘I saved it myself last night. And I landed a hefty punch on his face.’

‘So?’

‘All we need to do is to look for a passenger with a black eye.’

‘If only it was that easy,’ said Roebuck with a pessimistic grin, ‘but we can hardly ask fifteen hundred people to queue up so that you can examine their faces. Besides, he might have been a member of the crew. That gives you another two hundred and fifty to get around, and you’ll have real problems there.’

‘Problems?’

‘I was thinking of the stokers.’

‘Yes,’ said Dillman. ‘I see what you mean.’

‘Passions run high down there, George. When you spend your whole day shovelling coal into a furnace, you don’t have time for the social niceties. Tempers are short. Arguments start. Fights develop. You’ll probably find half a dozen black eyes among the stokers.’

‘I still think it could be a lead.’

‘Only if your attacker ventures out into the light of day.’

‘He can’t hide away forever.’

‘All he has to do is to wait until the black eye fades.’

‘I’ll find him,’ asserted Dillman.

‘Not by putting your own life on the line, George. I’m pulling rank on you. If you want to try this again, you share the cabin with a man or a gun or, preferably, both.’ He looked around. ‘Not that there’s any chance of him coming here again. He’ll try to find out where Mr Blaine is sleeping.’

‘Don’t tell Mr Blaine about this, will you?’

‘I wasn’t going to,’ said the purser. ‘He has enough on his mind as it is.’

‘That’s true. Say that nobody showed up.’

‘How will you explain that bruise on your temple?’

‘I banged my head accidentally, didn’t I?’

‘With a little help from someone else.’

‘Mr Blaine needn’t know that. Anyway,’ said Dillman cheerily, ‘I’m glad you called, Mike. It’s not all bad news. I had a productive visit to the boat deck last night.’

‘Did you get into Gilpatrick’s cabin?’

‘And into Mr Hayashi’s.’

The purser listened to his report and nodded his approval of the find.

‘We had the feeling that it might be guns of some sort,’ he said.

‘Gilpatrick gets the silk, Hayashi gets the weapons.’

‘We’ll need more evidence than a few catalogues.’

‘Don’t forget that letter heading I copied in Hayashi’s cabin.’

‘That might turn out to be useless, George. Give me something more solid.’

‘Then you’ll have to trust my judgment.’

‘In what way?’

‘I’m going to need the keys to the orlop deck again,’ said Dillman. ‘And I want to take you with me next time I go down there. That’s where we’ll get hard evidence.’

‘We can’t go breaking into sealed cargo.’

‘It’s the only way.’

‘The skipper won’t sanction that without an extremely good reason.’

‘Then I’ll provide it,’ affirmed Dillman. ‘The contraband must be hidden down there somewhere. I’ll tell you this, Mike. You won’t find any guns in Gilpatrick’s wardrobe. There’s no room. His wife has filled it to the brim with her dresses.’

After waking early, Genevieve Masefield lay in her bunk and considered her plight. She was on the horns of a dilemma. Forced to invent a story about her relationship with Dillman, she now had to give visible proof of it, yet the last thing she wanted was for any link to be seen between the two of them. It lessened their effectiveness. There was also the nagging problem of Fay Brinkley. It was she who had confided her interest in Dillman to her friend. Genevieve could imagine how Fay might react if she saw her with the detective. Fay was an astute woman. Her suspicions would be aroused immediately. However, it was more important to allay Rance Gilpatrick’s suspicions. Genevieve had been rocked by his announcement that someone had seen Dillman going into her cabin. There had certainly been nobody in the passageway outside when she opened the door. Someone must have been lurking around the corner, and that thought unsettled her. She wondered if it was the same person who had searched her cabin.

There were two consolations to be drawn from the confrontation on the previous night. Stunned as she had been by Gilpatrick’s accusation, she did feel that she had extricated herself from the situation with some adroitness. Genevieve had also used the opportunity to resign from her musical partnership with Maxine. It was a relationship that had been awash with reservations from the start. While it got her close to the Gilpatricks, it also exposed her to danger, but it was at a personal level that the main doubts arose. She was increasingly fond of Maxine, finding, in a woman she expected to be hardened by her experience, a yearning for the recognition as a singer that she had never achieved. Maxine Montgomery sought status. Wanting her to succeed, Genevieve had been dragged along with her, but the anxieties never disappeared. The fact remained that she was using Maxine in order to gain vital information about her husband and his associates. At some stage, when the truth finally emerged, there would have been complications. She felt easier in her mind now that she had withdrawn. Another pianist could soon be found to replace her.

Dillman had to be warned. That was her first thought. After taking a bath she dressed and headed for the purser’s office, but he was nowhere to be seen. In view of the fact that she had already been watched, she did not dare to go to the upper deck in search of Dillman himself. Their meeting would have to be postponed. She slipped a note under the purser’s door, asking him to warn her partner that something had transpired that he needed to know about. Mike Roebuck would have to act as their go-between. As she headed for the dining saloon, Genevieve knew that Maxine would try to persuade her to reconsider her decision. She might have to cope with the blandishments of husband and wife. Determined to resist them at all costs, she went in to have breakfast.

It was still early and the place was fairly empty. Two friends of hers, however, were already there. They gave her their usual cordial welcome and beckoned her over. Genevieve was glad to join Horace and Etta Langmead. Without knowing it, they would offer her some insulation against a possible swoop by the Gilpatricks.

‘You’re up with the lark,’ observed Etta Langmead.

‘I wanted to miss the rush,’ said Genevieve.

‘What rush?’ asked Langmead. ‘The place is as quiet as the grave. This is a good time to have your breakfast. The waiters fight to serve you.’

‘They always fight to serve Miss Masefield,’ said his wife.

‘I don’t blame them, Etta.’

‘I’m so sorry we invited Mr Seymour-Jones to our table for the second time,’ she apologised. ‘Horry told me that you found his attentions rather embarrassing. It won’t happen again, Miss Masefield. And we did provide that nice Mr Kincaid in his stead. He’s such an amusing character, isn’t he?’

‘Yes,’ said Genevieve, forcing a smile.

‘I liked the French couple,’ said Langmead. ‘Especially the wife.’

‘They were such an interesting couple, Mr Langmead. So sophisticated.’

‘I wish I knew where she bought that dress,’ said Etta enviously.

‘In Paris.’

‘Yes, but where? Do you think she’d give me the address?’

‘Don’t bother, honey,’ advised her husband. ‘That’s the

trouble with fashion. It changes so quickly. As soon as you got that dress sent over, it would be old hat. Wait until we get to China. They have lovely silk dresses there.’

‘It’s not the same. Horry. I want to look French, not Chinese.’

‘Wait until you get to Peking,’ he said. ‘Chinese women are not all peasants, you know. The wealthy ones dress very stylishly. They can hold their own with the French.’

Etta was not persuaded. ‘Nothing compares with Paris fashions.’

‘It’s a question of personal taste,’ said Genevieve.

‘That’s why I’m having breakfast with two gorgeous ladies,’ added Langmead gallantly. ‘Ah, here they come!’

Two waiters converged on the table. One took Genevieve’s order while the other served the Langmeads. The men went off to the kitchen. Other people were drifting into the room now, but there was no sign of Maxine. Genevieve hoped that she might have finished her breakfast before her friend appeared. Etta Langmead gave her a nudge.

‘That was very exciting news that we heard last night, Miss Masefield.’

‘News?’

‘About this song recital you’re involved in. I didn’t realise you were a pianist.’

‘Strictly speaking, I’m not.’

‘You must be if you’re able to give a public performance.’

‘You have beauty and talent,’ observed Langmead. ‘An irresistible combination.’

‘Actually,’ confessed Genevieve, ‘there’s some doubt about my involvement. I think that Mrs Gilpatrick deserves a more experienced accompanist, so I decided to pull out of the concert.’

‘Oh, no!’

‘What a shame!’ said Etta.

‘We were so looking forward to seeing you up on that stage.’

Genevieve did not wish to discuss the subject, but there was one advantage. In explaining her position to the Langmeads, she was rehearsing arguments that she might later use against Maxine. She made no mention of Rance Gilpatrick’s part in her decision, but she did tell them that David Seymour-Jones had been hired to design posters.

‘You poor thing!’ exclaimed Etta, a hand on Genevieve’s arm. ‘That can’t have been your idea. It’s given Mr Seymour-Jones the excuse to write your name in big letters time and again. That would only feed his infatuation.’

‘Not now that I’ve withdrawn, Mrs Langmead.’

‘I’m beginning to see the wisdom of that. I mean, every woman likes admiration but not if it’s taken to extremes. When he’s near you, Mr Seymour-Jones looks like a lovesick spaniel.’

‘Spaniels don’t get lovesick, honey,’ said Langmead.

‘How do you know?’

‘They’re dumb animals.’

‘It doesn’t mean that they don’t have feelings, Horry.’

‘Maybe, but they’re different from humans.’

‘Only in the obvious ways.’

The marital disagreement continued until breakfast was served. Conversation then moved to other subjects. Genevieve did not enjoy the meal. Every time someone came into the dining saloon, she looked up to see if it was either Maxine or Dill- man. Neither of them appeared. Finishing her meal well ahead of the Langmeads, she spurned the coffee and excused herself from the table, relieved that she had escaped a potentially awkward encounter. Her relief was premature. As Genevieve left the room, Maxine Gilpatrick was about to enter it. The newcomer wrapped her in a warm embrace.

‘Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!’ said Maxine. ‘We must talk.’

‘There’s no point.’

‘There’s every point, Jenny. First of all, I must apologise for what happened last night. What my husband did was disgraceful and I let him know it. Rance stepped over the line. I can’t say how sorry I am about that.’

‘I’d rather forget the whole thing, Maxine.’

‘It was crazy. He had no cause to be suspicious of you.’

‘Look,’ said Genevieve reasonably, ‘I don’t blame you. It’s put you in a very embarrassing position, I know, but I have to stand by my decision. I think it best if you find yourself another pianist.’

‘You’re the only one I want.’

‘I’m no longer available, Maxine.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because of the circumstances.’

‘They can be changed.’

‘No, Maxine.’

‘They can,’ urged the other woman. ‘The first thing we do is to get rid of that artist, Mr Seymour-Jones. We don’t need posters. Word of mouth will be sufficient. Rance said that he’d get Captain Piercey to make a public announcement at dinner.’ She gave a snort. ‘It’s the one bright thing he suggested this morning.’

‘I still want to pull out.’

‘But we worked so well together.’

‘Only up to a point,’ said Genevieve. ‘Let’s face it, Maxine. You’re in a different class. You deserve a professional pianist like the one we saw yesterday in the concert. I could never play as well as that.’

‘That doesn’t matter, honey.’

‘It does to me.’

‘The idea only arose because I heard you playing “Beautiful Dreamer” that day. We blended together instantly. You were in at the start, Jenny. Why throw away all the work that we’ve done so far?’

‘I feel that I must.’

‘Are you still so mad at my husband?’

‘There’s a little more to it than that.’

‘In what way?’

‘It doesn’t matter now.’

‘It does matter,’ insisted Maxine. ‘If something else is upsetting you, I want to know what it is. I thought we were friends, Jenny. We are, aren’t we?’

‘Of course.’

‘Then tell me what’s on your mind.’

Genevieve paused to consider how much she should say. Needing to provide a stronger reason to withdraw from the concert, she decided to confide her anxiety.

‘Before I tell you anything,’ she began, ‘let me say at once that I’m not accusing your husband. He probably had nothing at all to do with this.’

‘With what?’

‘Somebody broke into my cabin and searched it.’

Maxine was enraged. ‘When?’

‘Two days ago. Nothing was taken, but someone had definitely been there.’

‘I’ll kill Rance if he was behind this!’

‘Don’t jump to conclusions, Maxine. I’m sure that he was not involved.’

‘Did you report it to the purser?’

‘Yes,’ said Genevieve. ‘He thought it might be a thief. Since I always have my jewellery locked up in Mr Roebuck’s safe, there was nothing worth stealing. I don’t really care who it was. The fact remains that someone searched through my things, and that’s left me very shaky. I keep returning to my cabin throughout the day to check that he hasn’t been back. It’s ridiculous, perhaps, but that’s the effect it’s had on me.’

‘Sure,’ said Maxine, with a consoling hand on her arm.

‘I’ve managed to keep up a bold front so far, but underneath I’m scared. It’s another reason I can’t go through with this concert. That incident is preying on my mind. I may have seemed all right in rehearsal,’ she said, ‘but a public performance is much more testing. I’m afraid that the pressure would be too much. I’d go to pieces.’

Maxine tried to assimilate the new information. The possibility that her husband had instigated the search made her feel both angry and disgusted. She sympathised with Genevieve, yet she still clung to the hope that they could somehow perform together. She searched desperately for compromise.

‘Listen, Jenny. Let me take this up with Rance.’

‘It might be safer if you don’t even mention it.’

‘I want the truth,’ asserted Maxine. ‘If I’m sharing my life with a guy who had your cabin searched, I want to know. For heaven’s sake, I’m married to him. Rance is no angel,’ she continued. ‘I accepted that from the start. Running a saloon is not like being in charge of a cathedral. You have to be tough and ruthless. But he has a softer side to him as well. I knew about his other women. I knew about some shady deals he made. I knew I wasn’t marrying Jesus Christ. But heck,’ she added with a laugh, ‘it’s not as if I was a vestal virgin myself. What I didn’t know, however, was that he’d stoop to having your cabin searched.’

‘We’re not certain that he did.’

‘Putting that aside, how about this for an idea? We postpone the concert.’

‘No, Maxine.’

‘It hasn’t been announced yet,’ argued the other. ‘It would give us more time to rehearse and advertise. And there’s another thing, Jenny,’ she said, gripping her arm, ‘It’ll give you time to get over this business. What do you say?’

‘You must look for another pianist.’

‘I don’t want anyone else, least of all that guy in the orchestra. Okay, he’s got talent, but he’s a man. Don’t you understand, Jenny?’ she pleaded. ‘The thing that attracted me most about this whole thing was the fact that we were doing it together, putting on a concert to rival anything the men can do. We’d be striking a blow for women, Jenny. Doesn’t that have any appeal to you?’

‘A great deal, Maxine. But I’ve made my decision.’

‘Good morning, ladies!’ said Willoughby Kincaid, bearing down on them. ‘Discussing your song recital, no doubt?’ He offered both arms. ‘May I have the pleasure of taking the two of you into breakfast?’

‘No thank you, Mr Kincaid,’ said Genevieve. ‘I’ve already eaten.’

‘What a pity!’

‘And I need to go back to the cabin to speak to my husband,’ said Maxine.

‘It doesn’t seem to be my day.’ He beamed at Genevieve. ‘Can’t I even tempt you to another cup of coffee, Miss Masefield?’

Genevieve froze. Over her shoulder, she could see Dillman approaching and saw the bruising on his temple. Her stomach turned. With Maxine beside her, she felt the urge to acknowledge him, especially as the sign of close friendship with another man might help to deter Kincaid. Then she remembered that Maxine would not recognise the detective. She had never met him before.

She turned to Kincaid. ‘I couldn’t touch a thing, I’m afraid. Goodbye.’

As she walked past him, Genevieve did not even look up at Dillman.

Rutherford Blaine had a streak of obstinacy in him that they had never seen before.

‘I’m sorry, Jake, but I won’t even consider the idea.’

‘Why not, sir?’ asked Poole. ‘It’s for your own safety.’

‘I’d recommend it as well, Mr Blaine,’ said the purser.

‘I have a duty to protect you, sir.’

‘You’re the one who looks as if he’s in need of protection,’ noted Blaine.

The three men were in Blaine’s cabin. Though still nursing his wounds, Jake Poole felt strong enough to offer his services again. In view of the attack on Dillman, the purser was anxious to shield the diplomat even more.

‘I may have one arm in a sling,’ said the bodyguard, ‘but I can still hold a gun in the other. We’re taught to shoot with both hands, Mr Blaine. Why take the risk of sleeping in here on your own when I could be in the other bunk?’

‘I managed perfectly well last night.’

‘Only because they don’t know where you are yet.’

‘In that case, there’s no danger.’

‘Yes, there is, sir,’ said Roebuck. ‘If they’re clever enough to find out what you’re doing on this ship, it won’t take them long to track you down. Mr Poole is right. You need protection around the clock.’

Blaine gave a wry smile. ‘Does that mean someone has to hold my hand when I visit the bathroom? No, gentlemen,’ he said, ‘I appreciate your concern but it’s not necessary While I’m in the public rooms, I feel perfectly secure.’

‘This is where the attack is likely to come,’ argued Poole. ‘They still think I’m in that cabin on the boat deck.’ He turned to the purser. ‘Were there any problems there in the night, Mr Roebuck?’

‘No, no,’ lied the other. ‘Mr Dillman was undisturbed.’

‘There you are, then!’

‘All that proves is that they know you’ve moved out of the cabin,’ said Poole. ‘They’ll be searching for this one. I’d like to be here when they find it.’

‘You’ve done more than your share already, Jake.’

‘I feel as if I’m letting you down.’

‘Not at all,’ said Blaine. ‘I’m the one with the guilt. You were attacked because of me. If Mr Dillman hadn’t come along at the right time, your attacker might have finished the job. Imagine how I would have felt then.’

‘It’s my duty, sir. I know the risks.’

‘Well, you’re not taking any more on my behalf. Everything has gone smoothly so far. That door is very stout and it has two bolts on the inside. Even with a master key, nobody can get in at night. I think you should both stop worrying about me,’ he said confidently. ‘We must rely on Mr Dillman to catch this assassin before he reaches me.’

Poole had doubts. ‘What are the chances of that?’

‘Much higher than you think,’ said Roebuck defensively. ‘George Dillman is an amazing man. Mr Blaine put his finger on it a moment ago when he talked about that fall of yours down the stairs. Someone came along at precisely the right time. George Dillman has an uncanny habit of doing that.’

When he saw Dillman approaching him, Wu Feng’s first impulse was to flee, but the detective’s reassuring smile made him stand his ground.

‘It’s all right, Mr Feng,’ said Dillman. ‘I haven’t come to arrest you and your father again. I know that you’re legitimate passengers now. Your fare is paid.’

‘This kind man helped us, sir. Father Slattery.’

‘So I understand.’

‘You thank him for us? We no see him since.’

‘I’m afraid not,’ said Dillman ruefully. ‘He’s been busy elsewhere.’

As soon as breakfast was over, the detective had gone down to the main deck in search of the Fengs. Remembering where he had found them, he wondered if they might be able to shed some light on a problem that vexed him. Wu Feng was sitting on the deck among the other steerage passengers. He was still wary of Dillman.

‘I want to know how you came to be on the orlop deck,’ said the detective. ‘Only crew members have access to the hold. How did you get down there in the first place?’

‘By accident, sir. We follow a man.’

‘What man? One of the crew?’

‘No, sir. My father and me, we get aboard the night before the ship sail. We not know where to hide. When passengers come onboard, there are men in uniform who ask everyone to show tickets.’ He gave a gesture of despair. ‘We had none.’

‘So what did you do?’

‘We very frightened, sir. When man in uniform come towards us, we ran away. We go down steps, run as fast as we can. We finish up where you found us.’

‘But how?’ asked Dillman, still puzzled. ‘The orlop deck is locked.’

‘The man had a key.’

‘The one in uniform?’

‘No, sir. Another man. He wears a suit and hat. We see him open a door so we sneak in after him and hide. Later,’ he recalled sadly, ‘when the ship sail, we find that we locked in. Then you come looking for us.’

‘Actually, I was searching for something else,’ said Dillman. ‘Tell me about this man who let you into the orlop deck. If he was wearing a suit and a hat, he certainly wasn’t one of the crew. Can you remember anything about him?’

‘No, sir. Nothing at all.’ A memory surfaced. ‘Except for his ear.’

‘His ear?’ repeated Dillman.

‘Yes, sir,’ said Feng, indicating with his hand. ‘It was this big.’

Maxine Gilpatrick’s anger was no match for her husband’s bad temper. He was up, dressed, and ready for her this time. When she accused him of arranging to have Genevieve’s cabin searched, he flew into such a rage that she backed off. Gilpatrick denied the charge hotly. His wife came to believe him. A tiny doubt still lingered, however. As she made her way alone back to the dining saloon, she saw the opportunity to clarify the situation. Tommy Gault was descending the stairs in front of her. She hurried to catch up.

‘Good morning, Tommy,’ she said.

‘Oh, hello, Mrs Gilpatrick,’ he replied. ‘Sleep well?’

‘I’ve had better nights.’

‘I went out like a log. They serve good booze on this ship.’

‘I meant to ask you something, Tommy,’ she said casually. ‘When you searched Jenny Masefield’s cabin, what did you find?’ Gault’s eyes darted nervously. ‘It’s all right,’ she assured him. ‘Rance told me that you were going in there. What did you find?’

‘Nothing,’ he admitted. ‘Nothing at all.’

It was midmorning before Genevieve finally chanced upon Tadu Natsuki. He and his wife were drinking tea in the lounge. They were both delighted to see her again.

‘I wanted to ask you a favour,’ said Genevieve, sitting beside Natsuki.

‘Of course,’ he said.

‘I wondered if you could possibly translate this for me?’ She passed him the slip of paper that Dillman had given her. ‘It’s an address that I need to have but I can’t make head or tail of it.’

Natsuki grinned. ‘Neither can I, Miss Masefield.’

‘But you speak Japanese, don’t you?’

‘Perfectly, but these are Chinese characters.’

‘Oh, dear!’

‘Simple mistake,’ he went on. ‘You weren’t to know. But you are in luck. I know very little Chinese, but Hisako is an expert. She does translation work for a publisher from time to time. That is why she was so upset by what Father Slattery was saying the other day,’ he explained. ‘The last book she translated into Chinese was about Shinto.’ He handed the paper to his wife. ‘Hisako?’

‘I am happy to help,’ said Hisako.

Genevieve had thought to bring paper and pencil with her. She handed both to the woman and waited while the latter studied the characters. Hisako’s face puckered.

‘I’m sorry if it’s inaccurate,’ said Genevieve. ‘The person who copied it out is not used to writing Chinese characters.’

Hisako smiled tolerantly. ‘I can see that, Miss Masefield. It just seems an odd address for a young lady like you to have.’ Translating it into English, she wrote it down, then handed the paper back. ‘There you are.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Natsuki. You’re very kind.’ She glanced at the address and blinked in surprise. ‘I see what you mean,’ she said.

Pleased with his discovery, Dillman could not wait to report it to the purser. Mike Roebuck was in his office, locking up the safe. He was intrigued by the latest piece of information, but he still did not find the evidence conclusive enough.

‘There has to be something else, George,’ he warned. ‘If I go to the skipper and tell him that all we have are some gun catalogues and a cauliflower ear, he’s not going to authorise us to tamper with sealed cargo.’

‘The weapons must be there, Mike. I know it!’

‘Find some more proof.’

‘How much more do you need?’ said Dillman with exasperation. ‘Mr Feng saw someone with a cauliflower ear on the orlop deck. It has to have been Tommy Gault. There may be more than one black eye aboard, but I bet he’s got the only cauliflower ear. Somehow, he has a key to the orlop deck. How did he get it?’

‘Who knows? There are far too many keys in the wrong hands on this ship.’

‘Supposing I search Gault’s cabin and find that key. Is that proof enough?’

‘No, George. Besides, I don’t think he’s punch-drunk. Tommy wouldn’t leave something like that hanging about. He’d carry it around with him. We’re on the right track, I know,’ he said, ‘but we need to take just a few more steps along it.’

Dillman moved to the door. ‘I’ve got an idea,’ he said. ‘See you later.’

‘Hold on,’ ordered the purser, restraining him with a hand. ‘When I got back here, there was a note under the door from your partner. She said it’s vital to speak to you as soon as possible. I’m to hold you here until she comes.’

‘Did she give any details?’

Roebuck opened a drawer and took out the note. ‘Read it for yourself,’ he said, passing it to Dillman. ‘And not just the words. Read between the lines. I smell a crisis.’

‘So do I, Mike,’ said Dillman, scanning the note. ‘What’s up, I wonder?’

‘Well, she’s still able to write neatly so she hasn’t been trying to punch Tommy Gault in the stomach. Seriously, though,’ he went on, ‘I’m getting worried. I hired the pair of you to catch a smuggler. You’ve survived an attempt on your life and Miss Masefield is playing piano in the lion’s own den.’

‘We have to take risks in our business.’

‘That’s what Jake Poole said earlier. Look what happened to him.’There was a tap on the door and Roebuck opened it to let Genevieve in. When she saw Dillman, she gave a gasp of relief. It was only the purser’s presence that stopped him from putting his arms around her.

‘What’s happened, Genevieve?’ he asked worriedly.

‘Lots,’ she replied, ‘but let me tell you about that address you found first. No wonder you had such difficulty copying those Japanese characters, George. They turned out to be Chinese.’

He grinned. ‘So much for a Western education!’

‘I had it translated and found that it’s the address of a firm of gunsmiths in Shanghai.’ Dillman flicked a glance at Roebuck. ‘I wanted to find out more about them, so I went to the library to see if there was any business directory of Shanghai. There wasn’t, unfortunately, but I remembered someone who might be able to help.’

‘Who was that?’ asked Dillman.

‘Willoughby Kincaid. When I went looking for him, of course, he immediately thought that I was finally succumbing to his charms so I had to put him right on that score. However,’ she went on, ‘he does know about guns. I didn’t tell him how I’d come across this address, of course, but I asked him if he knew of any gunsmiths in the Bund in Shanghai. The first one he talked about was Telge and Schroeter. Apparently, they furnished most of the Chinese flotilla fleet. Then he moved on to this one,’ she said, showing the translation to Dillman. ‘Herzog and Lindenmeier. It’s a much more disreputable firm, the kind of place where you can get any gun you want even though some of the other gunsmiths have exclusive licenses for some makes. Mr Kincaid told me he was offered a Webley and Scott gun there, yet the sole agents are supposed to be someone on Canton Road, Shanghai.’

The purser was impressed. ‘What a memory you have for detail!’

‘I couldn’t forget the bit about Webley and Scott. They’re an English firm. According to Mr Kincaid, they’re small-arms manufacturers from Birmingham.’

‘We still need a link with Hayashi,’ stressed Dillman.

‘I’m coming to that,’ she explained. ‘Though the firm of Herzog and Lindenmeier still retains its old name, it was bought out over a year ago by a Japanese company. Mr Kincaid said there was a branch in Kobe as well.’

‘That’s where Hayashi lives,’ commented Dillman.

‘There are huge profits involved here. The Chinese army is drilling in Western style and equipping itself with all the latest weapons. But that’s only one source of income. The real money, according to Mr Kincaid, would come from supplying rebel groups who will pay almost anything to get the best guns.’

Dillman read the address on the piece of paper before thrusting it at Roebuck.

‘There you are, Mike,’ he said. ‘Do you have enough to go to the captain now?’

‘I’m tempted, I must say,’ replied the purser.

‘Give it a try.’

‘I will. Thanks, Miss Masefield. You’ve done wonders.’

He let himself out of the cabin. As soon as he had gone, Dillman put his arms around her and gave her a kiss. The first thing she wanted to know was how he had got the bruise on his temple. Playing down the danger, he told her about his nocturnal visitor. She was very disturbed, but he managed to reassure her. Now that she had passed on her findings, Genevieve had some more awkward news to impart. He waved her to a seat and perched on the desk beside her. She told him about the confrontation with Gilpatrick on the previous night and how she had been forced to present Dillman in order to talk her way out of the situation. He was pleased to hear that she had also manoeuvred herself out of the song recital.

‘It could be uncomfortable for you,’ he observed, ‘sitting at a piano with a woman whose husband we’re on the verge of arresting. Give the Gilpatricks a wide berth from now on. You were getting too close to the fire.’

‘The flames were certainly licking me last night,’ she said. ‘Just think how I felt when Gilpatrick told me you’d been seen going into my cabin.’

‘It must have been a sticky moment, Genevieve, but there’s one compensation.’

‘Is there?’

‘He gave himself away.’

‘I’m just sorry that I had to use your name like that.’

‘There was nothing else you could do.’

‘But it complicates things. How will it look to other people?’

‘It will keep Mr Kincaid and the amorous artist off your back.’

‘I was thinking of Fay Brinkley.’

Dillman sighed. ‘Yes, I’m glad you mentioned her. We had a chance encounter last night. Except that I don’t believe there was much chance involved.’

When he related what had happened, she was amused and intrigued. Genevieve was also glad that he was so honest about it and held nothing back. Anxiety returned.

‘Fay will be hurt if we walk into the dining saloon together.’

‘There may be a way around that,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Leave it to me. But if we are going to be identified as a couple, there’s something we can do at once, Genevieve.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Issue a challenge.’ He moved to the door. ‘I’ll explain on the way.’

When he got back to his cabin, Rance Gilpatrick was given a severe jolt. After the row with his wife, he had seen no sign of her. Maxine, he assumed, was keeping out of his way unless he lost his temper again. He prided himself on having rebuffed her accusation about the search of Genevieve Masefield’s cabin. It had enabled him to gain the upper hand again. He soon discovered that that was an illusion. When he stepped into the cabin, he sensed at once that something was awry. It was markedly tidier than it usually was. None of Maxine’s possessions were scattered about on the table or chairs. Going into the bedroom, he had the same experience. There was a sudden emptiness. Gilpatrick dived for the wardrobe and flung open the doors, hoping to find it filled with his wife’s dresses. He stepped back in alarm. They had all disappeared.

Tommy Gault’s fame as an entertainer had spread. Over a dozen children had gathered on the boat deck to watch his displays of strength. Though wearing a jacket and pants, he stood on his hands to amuse them, let them punch him in the stomach, and lifted each of them in turn by getting them to hold their elbows tight against their sides. Cupping the tips of their elbows in his hands, he lifted them right above his head in one fluent move. The children loved it. When Dillman arrived with Genevieve, the children were laughing with glee at Gault’s antics. Recognising Genevieve, he was a little shamefaced at first, fearful that she might have come to accuse him of searching her cabin, but it was Dillman who had sought him out.

‘I wondered if I could take another crack at you, Mr Gault?’ he asked.

‘Sure, Mr Dillman,’ said the ex-boxer. ‘Wear a knuckle duster, if you like.’

‘No thanks. I just want to be certain that you’ve got nothing hidden away under your shirt.’ He removed his jacket and gave it to Genevieve. ‘Take your coat off. Let me see the target properly.‘I’ll put on a singlet and boxing shorts, if you prefer,’ boasted Gault, slipping his coat off. Genevieve took it from him. Gault slapped his stomach. ‘See? Nothing there except hard muscle. Whitey Thompson said it was like hitting a brick wall.’

‘In that case,’ said Dillman, flexing his right hand, ‘I’ll take a small precaution.’

Retrieving a handkerchief from the top pocket of his jacket, he wound it around his knuckles. The children were agog. Dillman was tall and fit. He looked as if he might trouble Gault. Some of them egged him on while others, who had seen his earlier attempt at throwing a punch, sided with Gault. As Dillman got himself ready, the little audience cheered them on. Nobody noticed that Genevieve was slipping a deft hand into the pocket of Gault’s jacket.

‘Ready?’ asked Dillman.

‘Give it all you’ve got,’ goaded the other man.

‘Here goes!’

Dillman did not pull his punch this time. Putting much more power into the blow, he struck Gault in the middle of the stomach and saw a faint glimmer of pain in his eyes. Dillman shook his hand, then removed the handkerchief to blow on his knuckles. The children laughed and Gault grinned in triumph.

‘You’re welcome to try any time, Mr Dillman,’ he said.

‘No thanks. I think I’ve learned my lesson.’

‘It was my fault,’ said Genevieve. ‘I wanted to see if what he told me was true.’

‘It’s true, all right,’ said Dillman, taking his jacket from her. ‘I’ve never felt stomach muscles like that before. I’ll need to put my hand in cold water.’

‘Congratulations, Mr Gault,’ she said. ‘The professional wins the day.’

Gault put his chest out. ‘I was a good fighter. Fourteen knockouts.’

‘It shows.’

After helping him on with his coat, she went off with Dillman and left Tommy Gault to entertain the children. They were out of earshot before Dillman spoke.

‘Did you find anything?’

‘Yes, George,’ she said, slipping a key into his hand. ‘In his right pocket.’

‘I had a feeling it would be on him somewhere.’

‘What now?’

‘I’m going down to the orlop deck to see if it fits.’