The flaming sun hung just above the horizon, painting crimson streaks on the darkening sea. I clung to the railing, steadying myself as the Clio lifted and dropped. Wind fluttered the standards on the pole behind me, tugged at my clothes, turned the air cool. I turned up the collar of my jacket. If Gustav didn’t come, I would once again call on Glenn, hope that he would listen. Gustav’s fingerprints were sure to be in one of the cabins opposite Sophia’s door. His fingerprints should not be there, had no cause to be there except for the fact of a lovers’ tryst. Surely Ingrid had shared something with Gustav. He might even know who Ingrid approached, the Riordan who maneuvered her into the quiet of Jimmy’s cabin and death.
A footstep sounded behind me. I turned.
Gustav stood a few feet away. His features were hard to make out in the twilight, but grief was evident in the hunch of his shoulders, the slump of his body. When he spoke, his voice was empty. “If you tell Mr. Glenn, I’ll lose my job. But I don’t care. It doesn’t matter anymore. We were going to get married in October.”
I moved toward him. “I am sorry, Gustav.”
His voice was ragged. “I told her not to have anything to do with him. I told her to stay with the lady, but it was so much money. I don’t know what could have happened. They were supposed to go together, wait for him in his cabin. Ingrid shouldn’t have been there by herself.”
“Ingrid wasn’t by herself.” The lady. I was so close I found it hard not to grab him, demand more. Rosie, Val, or Madge. One of them. Oh, Ingrid, how safe it must have seemed, how easy. Why would she fear another woman?
Gustav stepped close. “She must have been alone. That man killed her.”
“Mr. Lennox didn’t kill Ingrid. She was killed by the woman who persuaded her that Mr. Lennox was guilty.”
His jaw jutted out. “They arrested him.”
An arrest would be made in London. But that didn’t matter to Gustav. “Yes, they took Mr. Lennox into custody. Do you know why?”
“He killed her.” Fury made Gustav’s voice rough.
“No, he found Ingrid’s body and called Mr. Glenn. He would not have done that if he was guilty. He would have pushed her body into the sea. No one would ever have known.”
“He called Mr. Glenn?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know that?” He bent toward me.
“Mr. Lennox called me after he called Mr. Glenn.”
“They arrested him.” He came back to the information that had spread among the crew: Ingrid dead in a passenger’s cabin, the passenger arrested.
“She died”—I saw him flinch, hated his pain—“in his cabin. He wasn’t there. He’d gone up to the sundeck. Ingrid left Mr. Lennox a message, asked him to meet her there. While he waited—and she never came—she and the lady went into his cabin and she killed Ingrid.”
“A woman?” He didn’t believe it. “Ingrid was strong.”
“She took Ingrid by surprise. She used a rolled-up towel, dropped it over Ingrid’s head and twisted, then jammed her knee—”
“No.” It was a guttural cry.
I stopped, reached out, gripped his hands in mine. “Help me find out the truth, Gustav.”
“If he didn’t—” He struggled with the horror of how Ingrid had died, unable to say the words that evoked her death. “If it wasn’t him, it had to be the woman, didn’t it? She’s the only one who knew Ingrid was going to be in his cabin.”
“The only one. So please, Gustav, tell me everything that you know. What time did you and Ingrid go into the cabin Friday night?”
“I came right after ten. That’s when she got off work and she made sure no one was around and slipped into the cabin. I tapped three times on the door and she opened it and let me in. She had a bottle of wine for us and cheese sandwiches and a strawberry torte. We pretended we were passengers and going around the world. We had our meal like we were kings and then—” He bit his lip. “She was so beautiful with her hair loose on her shoulders. Her lips—” It was as if he were speaking to himself, remembering warmth and love and life. Tears slid down his cheeks. “Later, after we’d dressed, she opened the door and then she pushed it shut real quick and whispered we had to wait, someone was coming out of the cabin across the way.”
Coming out? “What time was it?”
His shoulders lifted and fell. “I don’t know exactly. Around eleven.”
At 11:03 Jimmy’s key was used to open Sophia’s door. Coming out…Coldness touched me, moved over me. Ingrid opened her door as the murderer came out of Sophia’s cabin and turned to pull the door shut, making sure it was firm, then used Jimmy’s key that was taken from the green pottery bowl to open it. Ingrid didn’t see the murderer go back inside because she’d drawn back quickly to avoid notice.
“What did Ingrid whisper?”
Gustav massaged one temple. “‘We have to wait. Someone’s coming out across the hall.’ We stood there, and in a minute or two she eased the door open just a tiny bit and peeked and said, ‘She’s gone.’ I went out first. Ingrid was going to wait a few minutes and then leave.”
She’s gone.
I scarcely dared to hope. I spoke in as level a tone as I could manage. “Did Ingrid describe the woman?”
He shook his head. “She just called her ‘the lady.’”
“I’m sure you talked about it later. Did Ingrid ever describe her?”
“No. She didn’t have any reason to.”
“When did you last see Ingrid?”
He jammed his fingers together, looked down at them. “Last night. In the cabin. Our last night.”
I gave him a moment, but I had to keep pressing. Gustav knew that Ingrid was supposed to be in Jimmy’s cabin with the lady. What exactly did he know? “What did Ingrid tell you about the lady?”
He took a deep breath. “Ingrid said she had wonderful news, that she was going to help solve the mystery about the passenger who’d disappeared from the ship and she was going to get a big reward, ten thousand dollars. I asked her what she could do to earn that kind of money. She said she was going to help the lady she’d seen coming out of the cabin Friday night. Ingrid said it was the luckiest thing”—Gustav’s voice shook—“that she’d decided to talk to the lady. She almost hadn’t because she was afraid for Mr. Glenn to know she’d lied about not seeing anybody in the hall. But she said it wasn’t really a lie because he’d asked about Mrs. Lennox and it hadn’t been Mrs. Lennox and that’s what she’d tell Mr. Glenn.” Gustav hunched his shoulders. If Ingrid had told Mr. Glenn…
Gustav took a deep breath. “Ingrid was making up the lady’s cabin, and Ingrid told her about Mr. Lennox wanting to know if she’d seen anyone in the hall and how he’d promised her a thousand dollars but she didn’t think she’d tell him because it might get back to Mr. Glenn and she’d lose her job, and a thousand dollars wasn’t that much money.
“The lady said it was a good thing Ingrid hadn’t had anything to do with Mr. Lennox, that he was dangerous and everybody knew he’d thrown his wife overboard, and it would be wonderful if Ingrid would swear she’d seen the lady in the hallway because then she could speak up and tell about how she’d seen Mr. Lennox with Mrs. Lennox but she’d been afraid no one would believe her if she couldn’t prove she was there. She told Ingrid that the family would pay ten thousand dollars, and all Ingrid had to do was come with the lady to see Mr. Lennox.”
Gustav’s face twisted in pain. What was a thousand dollars or ten thousand when life was gone?
“What else did the lady say?”
Gustav stared at me with teary eyes. “She told Ingrid she’d have Mr. Glenn ready to come in and help and she promised she’d be right there with Ingrid. Ingrid said she called and left a message for Mr. Lennox to meet her on the sundeck, but that the lady said he’d come on down to his cabin when Ingrid didn’t come and the lady would be hidden and he’d be surprised to see Ingrid and she could ask him about being in Mrs. Lennox’s cabin.”
Gustav’s face was bitter. “The lady promised she’d tell Mr. Glenn that she’d asked Ingrid to bring her a snack late and that’s why Ingrid was in the hall and there wouldn’t be a word about Ingrid being in the cabin. I told Ingrid to let Mr. Glenn worry about what happened to that passenger. But Ingrid said she ought to help if she could, and when we got to London we’d have ten thousand dollars for ourselves.”
A lady with quick wits had spun a plausible tale to a credulous young woman and dangling in the background was more money than Ingrid could have dreamed of having.
“Ingrid didn’t say anything else about her?”
The ship rose and fell. As I reached out to grab the railing, Gustav steadied me.
“Just that she was nice.”
I looked out at the dark water. I knew a great deal, but I didn’t know enough. Tomorrow was our last day at sea.