The green room was blessedly empty, except for Gustave and Sadie huddled in chairs near the bar. Fina admired Sadie’s double-breasted yellow and orange beach dress. She and Gustave spoke in a relaxed, amiable way – the way one does when one doesn’t really know someone yet, but wants to be polite.
A long, shining bar stood at one end of the room and windows at the other. The light from the windows – as much as it was waning given the oncoming storm – brought a welcome airiness to the heavy Edwardian furniture. Blues and pink hues emanated from thickly painted, framed canvases scattered about the room.
“Gin and tonic, please,” said Fina to Lev. Lev appeared completely relaxed in his striped sailor’s shirt.
“And a pink gin for me, please,” said Ruby. Though Ruby had fully recovered from her mal de mer, she looked a little, what was it? Haunted? Perhaps it was just the circles under her eyes.
Fina shivered with pleasure at the cool tartness of the gin mixed with the sweet bubbles of the tonic.
“I feel much better now.”
“Let’s sit by the windows,” said Ruby, with a nod of thanks to Lev for her drink.
Ruby pushed together two chairs so their arms touched. They faced the rest of the bar so they could keep an eye on the comings and goings.
Ruby rubbed her arm. “I can tell a storm is coming. I’m getting little shock waves of electricity. Feels like the hair is standing up on my arm.”
Fina nodded with sympathy. One of her cousins had this same trait of being extra sensitive to electric storms. Her own body shivered, as if in sympathy. She pulled a shawl from her handbag and wound it around her arms. She could see from the barometer in the corner that the pressure was dropping quickly.
“Let’s talk. I’m afraid this storm will provoke another round of seasickness for me! I’ll take extra precautions when we dress for dinner – I’ll double up – no, I’ll triple up – on the tonic dosage. I must thank Sarah for her gift. It truly has been a gift.”
“Mmm,” said Fina, as an affirmative response through a sip of her drink. She munched on some nuts from a bowl on the table. “I’ll tell you about what I’ve found out so far.” She relayed to Ruby everything about Emeline, the Gibbses and Neville.
“My, I am impressed,” said Ruby, sitting back in her chair. “I mean, I’m impressed by everything that you’ve found, but I just cannot believe that you slapped Emeline!”
Ruby began to chuckle. And then the chuckle turned into laughter. Gustave and Sadie looked over at them. Ruby suppressed the noise but still smiled at Fina.
Fina began to giggle. “Yes, well, you know I can be impulsive. But as my grandmother said, where the tongue slips, it speaks the truth.”
“Very true! And speaking of truth, I think we can safely dismiss everything Patricia was telling us after breakfast today, don’t you?”
“I do. It sounded like a story you’d read in one of those pulp fiction novelettes. After all, a scorpion planted in someone’s bed is hardly a reliable murder weapon.”
“She clearly believes it all herself, of course,” said Ruby thoughtfully. “And it may well be true that there are financers or others who bore a grudge against her husband. But if so, why would they hold on to such a grudge even after his death, and transfer it to his widow? It’s not her fault if he made some ruthless decisions.”
“Delusions of grandeur,” said Fina decisively.
“She certainly does have a high opinion of herself.” Ruby shifted in her seat and crossed her legs. “So it seems everyone on board has, well, shall we say, certain proclivities – as a generous interpretation – but none of them seem to fit with the letter we received. Or do they?”
Fina tilted her head back against the chair. She stared at the hairline crack in the ceiling. “Well, the only thing that seems likely is the fact that Neville mentioned his reading recommendations again. That seems significant.”
“Go on,” said Ruby, sipping her gin. She grimaced slightly, a grimace that turned into a slow smile of satisfaction.
“Well, that’s it, really. It just seems important. But I cannot figure out the angle. You took a look at the Makhno book he gave me, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I skimmed it. There aren’t any significant markings in the book. It cannot be the text itself, could it?”
“Perhaps, but that is rather vague. How did you get on this morning?”
Ruby sighed. “It depends on which area you’re talking about. As for design, it was enormously edifying to be recognised as a real designer – for once – by Dolores. We sat in her cabin and chatted and sketched, sketched and chatted. She is rather shy for an actor. But then again, what do I really know about that!”
Ruby stared into her glass. Then she began to tap her teeth.
“I know that look. Did something else happen?”
She bit her lip, as if holding back a secret. Then her teeth released her lip. “I’m not sure, but there was something peculiar. She kept referring to ‘we’ when describing what she would do on the ship or in Trinidad, but would quickly slip back into ‘I’ as if she had made an embarrassing mistake.”
“Do you think she has a lover? But why would she be embarrassed? She’s a liberated Hollywood actress, after all.”
“That’s what’s odd. It’s also odd because she didn’t seem, well, bashful. She seemed a little afraid.”
“Afraid of someone?”
“Could be. But it could also be she was afraid for someone. But that was just an impression,” Ruby said, relaxing back into the chair.
Fina couldn’t help asking, “And the designs?”
Ruby’s smile had a touch of professional pride. “Most of them she loved. The evening gowns in particular: she loved the one with the dramatic neckline.” Then the smile vanished. “There was one thing, though.”
“What?”
“Well, I brought along a few of Gustave’s designs as well, since we’re meant to be a team. And frankly, they were almost…” She tapped her teeth. “Almost amateurish. He’s clearly talented, but on the practical side, he’s severely lacking. It’s almost as if he’s forgotten all his training. Any back-street tailor would know that you’d never get organza to drape in such a way.”
“How odd,” said Fina. Still, it wouldn’t be the first time the Parisian haute monde had celebrated a creative talent far in excess of his or her abilities.
“As for our other task, I came across this,” Ruby said, opening her clutch to reveal a folded-up newspaper. She handed it over to Fina.
It was The New York Times, the same 3rd May issue that Fina had seen Emeline reading.
Fina read aloud: “Actress Blacklisted.”
“I dislike that term intensely,” said Ruby. “It should be ‘whitelisted’.”
Fina didn’t understand her meaning at first, but the message slowly dawned on her.
“You mean terms like ‘black-something’ should be avoided or replaced?” She felt enormously naive as soon as she uttered the question.
Ruby looked undisturbed. “Yes. Think about all the negative terms associated with the word ‘black’, such as ‘blackmail’ or ‘blackballed’.” She smiled. “Sorry to be pedantic, Feens.”
“No, no, no need to apologise. I hadn’t thought of it before.” With that she began to read:
Hollywood executives have decried actress Dolores Dominguez’s accusations of inappropriate conduct with young extras on film sets. Miss Dominguez, famous for her roles in Blue Hyacinths and Three Teardrops, previously reported to The New York Times that three Hollywood executives regularly took “liberties” with young actresses on the set. When pressed further, she said that some of these women had told her that these men had violated them.
Miss Dominguez has declined to name the specific executives involved. She said she “fears for these women’s safety” if she were to name the men involved…
The article continued, but the main point was clear to Fina. She gave a low whistle. “It’s certainly salacious, but what does it have to do with us?”
“Though the reason is somewhat foggy, it does offer a possible reason why Dolores is travelling to Trinidad.”
Fina blinked.
“I think it makes it unlikely that she is our contact. It seemed odd at first that someone of her stature would be taking this trip with us. Now it provides a possible explanation – that she is hiding or on the run, but not necessarily our contact.”
“I see. You’re eliminating possible contacts, just like we did with our suspects for the murders at Pauncefort Hall.”
Ruby choked on her gin. “Let’s hope that’s the only similarity, Feens, let’s hope so.”