Fina glanced around at the crowd, feeling just as lost as most of them looked.
Agnes carried on nodding her head incessantly. “Yes, the bed-clothing, miss. You see, after the first murder, I was doing the wash as I always do. I count up the linens after they’re clean. The pillows were all right, but one whole set of bedclothes was missing! I counted and recounted. I looked in the crews’ wash. I even looked in the extra closets upstairs to see if they were there. Couldn’t see hide nor hair of them. The only thing I could think was that a guest had put it in their luggage. But that seemed, well, daft.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone then?” asked Fina.
“Well, miss, it was just too odd. I did ask the crew if they had seen any bed-clothing lying around, but they hadn’t. I tried to ignore it, but it wouldn’t let me be. That’s when I slipped a note under Miss Ruby’s door about wanting to talk to her,” she said, nodding toward Ruby.
“And that’s when you figured it out, Miss Gidge,” said Ruby, quietly. “Your drawing on the note told me all I needed to know.”
Agnes wiped her brow. “Yes, miss. You see, if I hadn’t been there to see Mr Chadha’s skull bashed in…” She paused. “Beggin’ your pardon, ladies and gentlemen,” she said with a little nod at the crowd.
“No need to apologise, Miss Gidge,” said Ian. “That’s what did indeed happen.”
She gave Ian a little smile and continued. “Well, it was that problem of the blood. There should have been more, well, ah, blood and the like on the floor,” she said, becoming squeamish at her own description of the murder. “And then the missing bed-clothing…” She trailed off with her hands in an open gesture, signalling that the guests should come to their own conclusions.
“I think you’d better walk us through your thought process,” said Ruby.
“Right you are. Well, the reason for the lack of, ah, matter, could be that there was something catching that blood, or that Mr Chadha was killed elsewhere and the body had been moved. What if Mr Chadha had been killed either in his room or elsewhere – and then everything was cleaned up with bed-clothing? Certainly something would be needed to clean up that mess.”
“That’s why the rug was so clean in Balraj’s room!” declared Fina, the truth beginning to dawn on her, ever so slowly.
“Exactly,” said Ruby. “Either Balraj was killed and fell back on the bed-clothing, or the bed-clothing was used to clean up the mess. Though it seems more likely that he fell on the bed-clothing, because it would be impossible to clean the rug well enough – since the murderer was in a hurry.”
“So this means that Balraj could have been murdered somewhere other than his own cabin,” said Ian.
“Yes, sir,” said Agnes.
“Wait a minute, Miss Gidge,” said Sadie. “Wouldn’t you have noticed whose room was missing bedclothes when you cleaned the rooms? Then you would know the identity of the murderer!”
Agnes shook her head. “No, Lady Winchcombe-Twisleton. You see, I leave a note in all the guest rooms explaining that they can find extra linens in the cupboard near the reading room – at the stern of the boat. The murderer was clever and took extra linens from that closet. I counted them in that cupboard so that’s how I know for certain one was missing.”
“All well and good, but this just tells us what we already know,” said Phillip. “It tells us that one of us is a murderer.” His voice was increasing in volume yet again. Those Gibbses were peculiar, thought Fina. Distinctly peculiar.
“Yes, Mr Gibbs, that is exactly what it tells us,” said Ruby in a calm voice. “It also tells us that the murderer wanted to kill Miss Gidge to suppress this knowledge.” She looked sympathetically at Agnes.
“That’s right, miss,” murmured Agnes from her chair.
Ruby smoothed her hair and continued. “Since we’ve established that Miss Gidge’s knowledge was clearly dangerous, let’s review the reasons everyone had to murder Mr Chadha and Mrs Burbage.”
“And which one was the real murder,” said Ian, “assuming that one of them was the primary target.”
“Mm-hmm,” said Ruby, in between sips of water. “Let’s start with the Gibbses, shall we?” She looked over to the fish-like countenances of the Gibbses. Violet grasped Phillip’s arm so tightly that it looked as though her fingernails might pierce his skin.
Ruby glanced at Fina. Must be her turn.
“Ah yes, so perhaps you could tell us why you are travelling with a king’s ransom in jewellery on this journey?” asked Fina, rather innocently.
“What?” said Violet. “What were you doing searching our room? What does that have to do with these murders?”
“It may have everything to do with them.”
“Ah, I can explain, I can explain,” said Phillip, chomping at his pipe. Fina couldn’t tell if he was wincing from having to tell the truth or from his wife’s vice-like grip. “To be frank, this trip is not entirely a pleasure cruise for us. Violet and I are planning to start a new life in Port of Spain. Sun, sea… it’ll make a change from foggy old Blighty, eh, darling?” His laugh had a forced ring to it.
“If that’s so, Violet,” continued Fina, “why did I hear your husband say, ‘Soon we’ll be safe’ to you?” continued Fina.
Violet looked at Phillip. Fina saw that she was clearly terrified.
Phillip coughed. “Very well, Miss Aubrey-Havelock, I see you hold all the aces. Jolly good. The fact is, we are on the run.”
Well, well, thought Fina. He crumbled like a house of cards.
“You fool!” screeched Violet, slapping him across the face.
“On the run?” said Ian, incredulously. This pair did not fit his idea of professional crooks.
Tears streaming down her face, Violet said, “Let me explain. You see, we were afraid for Gilbert.”
At least three people said in unison, “Gilbert?”
“Yes, Gilbert,” said Violet. “And myself. You see, I was married when I was quite young. To a soldier in India. It was a washout. He went missing – and his friends believed it was related to his military service. Even though I wanted to break it off, I waited. And waited. Over two years. Then I left India and returned to London. I assumed he was dead, as did everyone else. I started a new life as a widow.”
“Then I met Vi in London,” said Phillip, wiping away Violet’s tears. She gave him a half-hearted smile. “We married, and, a year after, Gilbert was born.”
“We were quite happy,” said Violet, blowing into her handkerchief. “Until a month ago, when I had a letter from a friend in India, telling me that my first husband was alive. Not only was he alive, but he was returning to London.”
Phillip removed his pipe and began to wave it around. “Well, you all know the severe punishments for bigamy. Sometimes two years in prison. Gilbert would lose his mother. We thought the best plan was to escape, somewhere where no one could find us, nor would the news matter when Violet’s, ah, husband returned to London. Violet has an aunt in Port of Spain, so that’s how we decided on Trinidad. We left instructions with our families to tell the authorities that Violet had died and that I had vanished with Gilbert somewhere.”
“So the jewellery was your life savings?” asked Fina.
“Yes,” said Phillip. “We thought it would be the safest way to travel – convert all of our money into jewellery that could be easily sold anywhere.”
“So that’s why Mrs Gibbs has looked so ill during this voyage. The three of you never really seemed like you were on holiday,” said Fina. Then she looked at Ruby. “What does this have to do with the murders?”
“Would you like to tell everyone or should I?” asked Ruby, looking at the pair.
Violet gave out a sigh that turned into a cough. “I’ll tell you. We didn’t think anything of it at first, but Balraj, Mr Chadha, that is, made subtle hints about my husband and marriage.”
“At first I thought he was, well, making a pass at my wife, of course,” said Phillip. Fina fought down her urge to judge that comment.
“But then we realised that he travelled quite frequently between India and England,” said Violet. “And that his social circles might be abuzz with gossip of the sort related to subjects like…”
“Bigamy,” whispered Phillip.
“Did you ever confront Balraj about it?” asked Ruby.
“No,” said Violet. “But we did live in fear that he might tell someone.”
Around the room, the silence of those listening took on a cold, hostile quality. Violet, realising that she had brought their suspicion on herself with her own words, shrank back into her chair and clamped her lips tightly shut.
Ruby turned back to the room. “Violet’s fear was legitimate,” she said in a clear voice. “Balraj Chadha had a talent for exploiting his knowledge of people’s secrets. And exploiting those secrets for a great deal of money. But he wasn’t pursuing people like the Gibbses. Strangely enough, he had principles – he only targeted those with money, prestige or power. And his secrets cost him his life.”