“Cyanide,” pronounced Violet. She lowered the port glass onto the table as if it were a golden chalice.
Captain Mills strode into the room. He removed his cap as he came to a halt in front of Patricia’s body, still slumped in that wholly unnatural position. Like a rag doll taking a nap on the table, thought Fina. Fortunately, Violet had gently closed Patricia’s eyes. That stare was more than she could bear. Emeline, too, had fled into a corner of the room, where she sat with her back turned to the company, her head in her hands. The rest of the guests sat motionless, shocked into silence.
Except for Dolores. “Are you saying…” She could hardly bring herself to finish the thought. “There has been another murder?”
Ignoring her, Violet rose from the table. “I’m afraid Mrs Burbage has been poisoned, Captain Mills. Cyanide. In her port glass,” she said.
“Thank you, Mrs Gibbs,” replied the captain. “May I ask how you know it was cyanide? What I mean is, do you have special training in identifying poisons?”
With an odd little curtsy, she said, “I was a nurse during the war, sir. That’s how I met Phillip,” she said, nodding in her husband’s direction. “I learned plenty about poisons in hospital. Cyanide is fairly easy to identify.”
Emeline’s harsh voice broke in. “You’re a nurse? Is there anything you can do to, to, to save her?”
Violet shook her head in sympathy. “I’m sorry, Miss Caulk.”
Ian stepped forward and put a hand on the captain’s shoulder. He whispered into his ear.
At that, Emeline seemed to pull herself together. “Look here,” she said, rising imperiously from her seat. “I do not appreciate this secret counsel about my sister’s death. And who, who is this man to be whispering in your ear,” she said, pointing a finger at Ian as if he were an apparition.
Her voice rose. “I demand an explanation!” Now her hand began to shake.
Violet, apparently transported back to her days of nursing the shell-shocked, rushed to Emeline’s side and grasped her about the shoulders. This seemed to have the opposite of the intended calming effect. Emeline writhed and wriggled out of Violet’s grasp. Once free, she leapt at the captain. She began to yell mild obscenities about “degenerates” and “delinquents”. Ian looked toward Ruby and Ruby looked toward Lev. Ruby nodded. Then she looked to Fina. Fina gulped. Her insides began to churn like the butter she and her aunt used to make in her childhood.
Fina stepped up to Emeline’s right, while Lev moved to her left. Emeline was oblivious to these machinations. Her hair shook and her face turned a pinkish shade of carmine. Fina inhaled a great gulp of air and nodded at Lev. They each slipped one arm up and over each of Emeline’s flailing arms and moved them to her side. In one deft, coordinated movement, Fina and Lev began to shift Emeline away from the captain.
At first, Emeline moved with them. Then she went limp, nearly collapsing on top of Fina. The sudden pressure of her considerable weight nearly made Fina wobble and fall like a newborn foal. Thankfully, her muscles bore up under her. Feeling grateful for the fitness-boosting tennis lessons she had taken back in Oxford, she managed to help Lev drag Emeline to one of the bench-cum-sofas near the farthest exit.
By this time, Emeline had begun to babble. Unfortunately, there were a number of words mixed into her incoherencies that were rather too coherent. Dolores sidled up to the bar and swiped a glass full of liquid and strode toward Emeline, as if she were an angry giraffe. Then, leaning back with her glass, she swept it forward in one quick gesture, splashing water directly in Emeline’s face. She turned and waltzed her way back to her seat.
Fina and Lev had loosened their grip on Emeline, mostly to avoid the small tsunami of water. The cold shock had worked. Emeline sat, stunned and quiet, with water dripping down her face.
No one apparently felt Dolores’ action was beyond the bounds of propriety – if they did, they dared not say anything.
The captain unbuttoned his blazer and wiped his brow. “As I was about to say, I know this second tragedy aboard has us all rattled—”
“To say the least!” interjected Phillip, chewing furiously on his pipe. “Sir, this is outrageous!”
“Yes, quite so,” replied the captain. “We are now approximately two days away from arriving at our destination. In the meantime, I’ve asked Mr Clavering,” he said, pointing to Ian, as if not everyone might be aware of who he was, “and Miss Dove and Miss Aubrey-Havelock to investigate what appear to be two murders.” He held up his hand to pre-empt any protests from the passengers.
“They all, ah, have experience in these matters,” he said with emphasis on the last word. Scanning the room, Fina stopped at the Gibbses’ faces. They didn’t have a look of guilt, but rather one of injury – perhaps because they hadn’t been asked to be a part of the investigation team? Dolores’ face still looked indignant, a sure holdover from her encounter with Emeline. Sadie’s mouth twisted, as if she couldn’t comprehend the situation. Fina felt the same way.
Gustave’s face held no trace of expression, as usual, but she did see that his left hand shook as he adjusted his tie. The staff were all present now as well, except Neville. Fina guessed he was on deck in case of an emergency.
Agnes sat in a chair at the bar, head in hand, gazing at the captain with glassy eyes. Sarah stood next to her, rhythmically sliding her bracelets up and down her arm. The rather loud sighing sounds coming from her direction indicated impatience. Though she couldn’t see Lev’s face as Emeline’s now frozen and quiet body blocked her view, she could sense he was at ease.
A strong breeze rushed through the room, overturning one of the glasses nearest the captain. It splintered into a hundred shards on the floor. Everyone jumped. Even Emeline awoke from her stupor and began to mumble gibberish under her breath. Agnes began to move toward the sparkling mess on the floor out of instinct.
The captain held up his hand again. “Please, no one must touch anything in this room except those I have mentioned. I know the crew will assist you in any way possible,” he said, nodding toward the staff. “And I expect full cooperation from all of the passengers. While we are at sea, I act in the role of a legal authority. Please understand that and we shall all stay safe. I suggest you all return to your cabins and lock your doors.” He made as if to leave, then spoke over his shoulder.
“And please be careful when answering the door.”