FLORA HOBBLED ALONG the deck at Bunny’s side, her coat buttoned to her neck, one arm tucked through his. The Minneapolis would dock at Tilbury the next afternoon, and she found herself counting each hour before she would have to say goodbye to him.
‘I’m sorry to drag you out into the cold, but I needed some air after being in the cabin most of the day. Taking meals in the suite may sound like an unheard of luxury, but it palls after a while.’
‘Cabin fever, I believe they call it.’ He pressed her elbow into his side. ‘I don’t feel at all dragged. Should whoever attacked you reappear, I intend to be on hand to protect you.’
‘I take it Dr Fletcher still insists he didn’t push me, or that he killed Eloise?’
‘He will only admit to battering Marlon van Elder, who, incidentally, used his real name for that land fraud.’
Flora bit her lip. The thought that whoever tried to hurt her still roamed the ship remained an uncomfortable one.
‘That idea of yours for hot and cold compresses on my ankle worked well.’ She brushed a strand of hair from her face and huddled into him, determined to relish every moment of their last evening together. ‘The pain is little more than a dull ache now.’
Bunny didn’t appear to hear her. ‘I wonder what’s going on over there?’
Flora followed his gaze to where Mr Hersch stood with the captain and two crewmen beside an open door.
‘Isn’t that Mrs Penry-Jones’s suite?’ Bunny shifted his hold on her arm, pulling her in the reverse direction. ‘Perhaps they wouldn’t want us listening to their private conversation. Shall we go back?’
‘Not on your life.’ Flora carried on walking, though it was more of a hop and stagger. ‘I want to know what’s going on.’
He capitulated with a sigh, though Flora suspected he was not as reluctant as he pretended.
As they came level, Mr Hersch greeted them with a tilt of his head. ‘Good evening, Flora. How nice to see you out and about again.’
‘Thank you. We were just getting some air.’ She tried to peer round him but his bulk effectively blocked the door. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Do feel free to make a party of it!’ Mrs Penry-Jones’ harsh laugh drifted out from the interior room. ‘Come in, come in, the governess and her inamorato may as well witness my downfall.’
Flora directed an astonished look at Bunny, who blinked behind his glasses.
Mr Hersch stepped to one side, a hand extended as an invitation for them to enter.
Flora risked a glance at Captain Gates, prepared for his dismissal, but he didn’t react.
Needing no further urging, Flora pulled Bunny behind her and limped into the suite.
Mrs Penry-Jones dominated the room, her complexion pale but for two spots of red on her sharp cheeks; her back held straight, though her head wobbled on her thin neck. With one hand, she gripped her silver-topped cane propped beside her right knee, the other folded and refolded a pleat of her skirt.
Max acknowledged Flora from his chair against the wall, the plaster on his forehead reduced to the size of a half crown, his injured arm still strapped to his chest.
Cynthia paced the room, chewing a thumbnail, her dark-blue gown matching her troubled eyes.
‘Do sit down, Cynthia,’ Max snapped, apparently at the end of his patience.
Cynthia broke off her restless pacing to glare at Flora, but made no attempt to sit. ‘Are we a public spectacle now?’
‘Where’s Miss Smith?’ the detective asked, ignoring Cynthia’s question.
‘I sent her to fetch me some tea to help calm my nerves at this dreadful intrusion,’ Mrs Penry-Jones said, then clamped her lips in a hard line.
‘I shan’t intrude long,’ the detective said archly. ‘I merely wished to ask if anyone here has seen this before?’ From an inside pocket he withdrew the knife Eddy had found, slid the blade from its wooden sheath and held it up. ‘I shall ask Miss Smith the same question when she returns.’
Flora may have imagined it, but though no one spoke, backs stiffened perceptively.
‘It belongs to me,’ Mrs Penry-Jones said after a moment. ‘My first husband brought it back from Korea thirty years ago.’
‘I suspect it’s considerably older than that.’ Hersch returned the blade to its sheath. ‘May I ask why you brought it with you on this voyage?’
She gave a mild shrug, her gaze sliding to Cynthia.
‘Don’t look at me!’ Cynthia squeaked. ‘The last time I saw that – that thing,’ she waved her hand in Hersch’s direction, ‘it was in Grandmamma’s vanity case. I swear I never touched it.’
Flora bit her lip to prevent a smile. Cynthia’s jutted chin, the superior gaze and the wagging finger were all Mrs Penry-Jones, but in a younger body.
‘She’s her grandmother?’ Bunny whispered beside Flora’s ear, though he did not require a response.
‘I keep that dagger for protection,’ Mrs Penry-Jones continued as if Cynthia hadn’t spoken. ‘However, I swear to you, I never used it to kill anyone. I didn’t even know it was missing.’
‘Mrs Cavendish,’ Hersch said. ‘Is it possible you used the knife to stab Estelle van Elder?’
‘How could you, Cynthia?’ Mrs Penry-Jones released a horrified gasp. ‘We agreed! We sought justice, not bloody revenge. Why couldn’t you simply wait?’
‘Grandmamma! How could you think such a thing?’ Cynthia enunciated each word, her furious gaze on the old lady.
‘Would someone care to explain?’ Captain Gates asked, bemused.
‘I wish they would too,’ Bunny muttered, evidently confused.
‘Of course, it all makes sense now,’ Flora said, a finger to her lips when Bunny started to speak. ‘I wonder if Mr Hersch is about to blow the family’s story apart or give them all alibis?’
‘What do you mean, how—?’
Flora shushed him. ‘Just listen.’
‘It was all her idea.’ Cynthia cocked her chin at Mrs Penry-Jones. ‘No one was supposed to die!’
‘We’re every bit as responsible, Cyn,’ Max began. ‘If only we had let the authorities—’
‘Shut up, Max!’ Mrs Penry-Jones snapped. ‘You don’t have to say anything. You cannot be compelled to give evidence against her anyway. She’s your wife.’
A look of patient sympathy crossed Max’s face, before he reverted to silence.
‘For the benefit of Miss Maguire and Mr Harrington, allow me to return to the beginning.’ Hersch set the knife on the low table in front of him with a sharp click. ‘Earlier this year, Mr Theodore van Elder took, as his second wife, Estelle Montgomery, a woman considerably younger than himself.’
The old lady straightened slowly, as if gathering her dignity around her like a cape. ‘Theodore van Elder was my son.’ She paused for effect, adding, ‘That girl was nothing more than a scheming trollop!’
‘However,’ Hersch drew out the word in warning, ‘a week after the wedding, Mr van Elder died.’
‘I thought that sounded suspicious when I read the clipping,’ Bunny said with a snort.
‘Exactly!’ Mrs Penry-Jones pinned the detective with a triumphant glare.
The detective shook his head. ‘The coroner’s report stated he succumbed to a bout of gastro enteritis. There was nothing suspicious about his death.’
‘Fiddlesticks!’ Mrs Penry-Jones sniffed. ‘Theodore was only forty-two. No, Estelle, or Eloise or whatever she called herself, persuaded him into a hole-in-the-wall wedding, only to murder him for his money.’
‘That makes no sense,’ Flora said. ‘They were married, so she already had his money. Why would she kill him?’
‘Well, I didn’t do it,’ Cynthia insisted, two spots of red bloomed on her porcelain cheeks.
‘No, Mrs Cavendish,’ Hersch said. ‘I don’t believe you did. After the stewardess helped you dress for the bridge tournament that afternoon, you called at Mrs van Elder’s cabin with the tea you promised her, but you received no answer because she was already dead.’
‘There, you see, Grandmamma!’ Cynthia flung in triumph. ‘Now do you believe me?’
Mrs Penry-Jones snorted, but did not reply.
‘Is that why you all came on board together?’ Flora asked. ‘To accuse Eloise of murder?’
‘And why ever not!’ Mrs Penry-Jones narrowed her eyes at Flora. ‘I wanted her exposed. That was Marlon’s job, but he fluffed it. Marlon was my nephew by marriage, estranged from the family due to some disreputable behaviour I won’t go into here.’ She closed her eyes briefly as if the embarrassment was too much. ‘After Theodore’s death, he came crawling to me, asking for a chance to redeem himself. I charged him with befriending Theodore’s widow in order to discover how to make her pay for what she had done.’
‘Then why engage Pinkerton’s?’ The term, belt-andbraces, jumped into Flora’s head.
‘Insurance.’ Mrs Penry-Jones glared at her. ‘When Marlon told me Eloise had booked passage for England, I couldn’t risk her getting away before I could expose her. I had no idea he was working for them.’ She waved her stick at Mr Hersch before bringing it down on the floor again with a thump. ‘The agency operates beneath a cloud of secrecy.’
‘That’s quite true,’ Hersch said. ‘I was engaged to keep Miss Lane, er – Mrs van Elder under surveillance, I had no idea Mrs Penry-Jones or her granddaughter were on board.’
‘You weren’t meant to know!’ Mrs Penry-Jones snapped, then her eyes glinted. ‘You also work for me, so I won’t tolerate being questioned in this way.’
‘The young lady’s death ended our agreement, Mrs Penry-Jones.’ Hersch’s voice brooked no argument. ‘At which I offered my services to Captain Gates.’
Mrs Penry-Jones merely grunted, and continued kneading the top of her walking stick with both hands.
‘Now if you don’t mind, I’ll continue,’ Hersch said. ‘For the benefit of you, Flora, and Mr Harrington, how did you become involved in all this, Mrs Cavendish, when you reside in England?’
Cynthia sighed, as if whatever fight remained drained out of her. ‘Max and I were about to leave for Rome on our honeymoon when a telegram arrived saying Daddy had been murdered.’ Her eyes filled with tears, making them more vivid. ‘I didn’t know him that well, but he was still my father. We changed our booking and sailed here instead. Grandmamma told me what she suspected and Max and I agreed to help.’
Max gave a snort but no one took any notice.
‘On that first night,’ Mrs Penry-Jones took up the story, ‘Marlon told me he had obtained the evidence I needed. He was supposed to bring it to me the next morning but he never arrived. When I was told he had been found dead, I thought—’
‘That Eloise had killed him to prevent him doing so?’ Hersch finished for her.
She nodded stiffly.
‘I’m afraid he deceived you, dear lady.’ The detective sighed. ‘Marlon possessed no such evidence. We cannot know exactly what happened between him and Miss Lane, but we believe,’ he said, turning to Flora, ‘that he convinced Miss Lane to part with her money in exchange for a pardon from you.’
‘Why would Eloise agree to that when she wasn’t guilty?’ Flora recalled the argument she had heard through the bulkhead on the first night.
‘Perhaps she imagined she would never be rid of a family prepared to hound her across the Atlantic.’ Hersch turned to glare at the old lady. ‘Maybe she was simply desperate?’
‘Oh, dear.’ Mrs Penry-Jones brought a wrinkled hand to her chest, blinking rapidly.
Max groaned and pressed a thumb and forefinger into the fleshy part above his nose.
‘If you believed that your stepmother killed your father, Mrs Cavendish,’ Hersch broke the oppressive silence that had descended, ‘it’s understandable you would wish her dead.’
‘I did wish her dead,’ Cynthia spat. ‘Stepmother, indeed! She was a year younger than me.’
‘Are you accusing my wife of murder?’ Max’s furious gaze raked the detective in challenge.
‘I’m quite capable of answering for myself, Max.’ Cynthia waved him away and turned on Mrs Penry-Jones. ‘How could you think I would do such a thing?’ Her breath hitched and close to tears, she dragged her bottom lip through her teeth.
Flora forced down belated sympathy for Eloise, who had found herself caught up in this twisted family. Recently widowed and with no one else to turn to, she had fled for a new life in another country. Then Parnell, a man who had pretended to be a friend, revealed that her husband’s vengeful mother was on board issuing threats. Being offered a lifeline in exchange for money must have seemed not only attractive, but her only hope. That she had overheard Crowe’s argument with Seaman Crofts and turning it to her advantage was an act borne of desperation.
‘And you, Mrs Penry-Jones, could you bring yourself to plunge a dagger into a young woman’s chest?’ Hersch asked.
‘Most assuredly.’ The old lady’s eyes fluttered closed for a second. ‘In my head I did so several times. But no, I didn’t kill the girl. I wanted her to suffer for the rest of her life, and for the world to know what she had done. Dead, she provides me with no satisfaction.’
‘Then who did kill Eloise?’ Flora demanded.