Murder on the Minneapolis (11 page)

‘You told Parnell what you planned?’

Eloise nodded. ‘That was my first mistake. He told me he could get me a part in
School for Scandal
in London, and would come to England with me. It was the perfect way out, so I jumped at it.’

‘Sounds a bit contrived to me,’ Flora said.

‘I see that – now.’ She braced both hands on the counter, her shoulders hunched. ‘He pretended to be my friend, then that first night on board he was so different.’ She stared into the mirror as if she didn’t recognise herself. Was she imagining what she used to look like?

‘What changed?’

‘Money, I imagine.’ Eloise grabbed a linen square from a pile on the counter and dabbed at each eye, careful not to smudge the heavy made-up. ‘Isn’t it always? He said he knew what I had done, that if I didn’t give him money, he would have me arrested when we reached London.’

‘Why would that worry you unless it were true?’

‘Of course it wasn’t true!’ Her head jerked up and held Flora’s gaze. ‘I would never have hurt Theo. Frank claimed he had evidence I had done it.’

‘What sort of evidence?’ Flora eyed the door marked ‘Private’, hoping the attendant wouldn’t return too soon.

‘He wouldn’t say, but promised to destroy it if I gave him money.’

Flora rolled her eyes. Eloise would never have been free of such a man, no matter how much money she gave him.

‘If you don’t know Mr Hersch, and I assume you don’t, where does he come into all this?’

‘I’m not sure, but if he’s asking questions, he’s either working for the lawyer who sent me those letters, or the
police. That photograph is the only thing that can link me to Theo now Frank is dead. I can disappear when I reach London, but whilst I’m on this ship, that German could still cause trouble for me.’

Flora was about to suggest Mr Hersch must already know Eloise’s identity, but didn’t want to make her more distressed than she was already.

‘All right.’ Her anger dissolved, replaced by exasperated sympathy. ‘But we can’t do it now, as everyone will be returning to their staterooms any moment. We’ll be seen.’

‘Tomorrow then, first thing.’ Eloise dried her tears. ‘I doubt anyone has noticed we didn’t lock Frank’s door when we were there last time. It will take me two seconds to get inside, so you stand guard and warn me if someone comes.’ She closed the space between them until their faces were inches apart. ‘Now, where exactly did you see that photograph?’

‘Y
OU’VE BEEN GONE
a while,’ Bunny observed when they both returned to the bar.

Before Flora could think up an excuse, Eloise interrupted. ‘Little accident in the powder room with some perfume. Flora was kind enough to help me.’

‘I wondered what that delicious scent was.’ Gus Crowe slid between them, his oily smile in place. ‘I thought you had abandoned me.’

Eloise pouted, running a finger along his jaw. ‘How could I, now would you be a prince and buy me a brandy?’

Crowe’s face suffused with a look of raw panic.

‘Worry not, Crowe,’ Gerald said, evidently having overheard. ‘We’re Max’s guests this evening, all drinks are gratis.’

‘In that case.’ Crowe rubbed his hands together, whispered something to Eloise which made her giggle, then arm in arm the pair headed for the bar.

‘Will Eloise never learn,’ Flora murmured, nodding her thanks to the waiter who slid a fresh cup of hot coffee in front of her. She had seen Eloise and Crowe together that morning on the boat deck. It had struck her as an unlikely alliance at the time, but she had decided it was Eloise’s
way of avoiding her. They seemed friendly enough now. But then, how can anyone know what one person finds attractive in another?

She took her first sip of coffee just as a shadow fell across her lap, and looked up to where Carl Hersch bent over them.

‘May I buy you a drink?’ He dragged a stool forwards and straddled it.

‘Oh, er, most kind of you,’ Bunny said. ‘But I think Max has—’

‘Please, I would rather,’ Hersch cut across him and summoned a waiter.

‘I’m quite happy with my coffee, thank you,’ Flora said.

‘I’ll have another brandy, provided you make it a small one,’ Bunny held out his glass.

‘I see you are busy forming interesting alliances, Miss Maguire.’ Hersch glanced to where Eloise and Crowe stood and away again. ‘Have you learned any more since our discussion?’

‘Not really,’ Flora lied. She would wait until Eloise had fulfilled her promise before revealing anything else to him.

‘
I
have a question for you, sir.’ Bunny lowered his voice. ‘If no one knew Parnell before this voyage, who could have a reason to kill him?’

Hersch tugged at his left earlobe, before answering. ‘I’m confident at least two people knew Mr Parnell before this voyage. Apart from Miss Lane that is.’

Cynthia’s name popped into Flora’s head, but she remained silent.

‘Is one of them Mr Gilmore, by any chance?’ Bunny threw Flora an apologetic glance. ‘I was reluctant to cast aspersions at the time, but it’s been niggling at me.’ He
pushed his glasses up his nose before continuing. ‘It’s somewhat indelicate, but may be relevant.’

Just then a loud guffaw sounded from Crowe, followed by Eloise’s girlish giggle as they availed themselves of Max’s generosity.

‘Go on, Mr Harrington,’ Hersch prompted, bringing Flora’s attention back to their conversation.

‘Gilmore mentioned that he saw Parnell being over-familiar with Hester Smith the afternoon before he died.’

‘In what way over-familiar?’ Mr Hersch asked.

‘Not indiscreet, or anything like that.’ Bunny’s eyes glinted behind his lenses. ‘At least, I don’t think so. He said Hester appeared annoyed at Parnell.’

‘Hester is always annoyed.’ Flora glanced to where Hester and Miss Ames sat. Both women sipped delicately at tiny glasses of some brown concoction but didn’t address a word to one another. ‘Like Cynthia Cavendish was annoyed with Parnell when I saw them together?’

Hersch’s eyes narrowed. ‘You didn’t mention that to me, Miss Maguire.’

Flora groaned inwardly. ‘Ah, no, but Cynthia dismissed it when I broached the subject.’

‘I see.’ Hersch’s unflinching gaze made her squirm. He drained his brandy, placing the empty glass on the table in front of him. ‘So within hours of boarding, Parnell had angered three ladies of different ages, social classes and marital status?’

‘Doesn’t sound as if the man was very popular with women, does it?’ Bunny said.

‘Indeed not,’ Hersch mused, thoughtful.

‘If Gerald is one, then who is the other person who knew Parnell?’ Flora asked.

‘I have yet to receive confirmation, so I’ll keep that
to myself for the time being if you don’t mind.’ Hersch winked at Flora,

Just then a thought struck her. Of course, the envelope! It was a telegram he had put into his pocket earlier. That must have been where he went after dinner. But from whom? Was Eloise right in that he worked for her late husband’s lawyers?

‘I’m interested that neither of you has asked where
I
was before breakfast on Sunday morning.’ Mr Hersch split a look between them.

‘Good point,’ Bunny said.

‘Bun-ny,’ Flora dragged out the word in warning.

‘We all need an alibi.’ Hersch smiled. ‘Mine is that I summoned the purser at six-thirty and requested he lodge some papers in the ship’s safe He obliged, though I doubt he was very happy about it.’

‘I don’t suppose you would reveal what sort of papers?’ Flora asked.

‘You assume correctly, young lady. I was with the purser in his office when a crewman arrived, saying Parnell had been found dead. That was just after seven o’clock.’ He rose from his stool with the economic grace of a man used to a lifetime of physical activity. No groans of effort, nor the easing of stiff joints, though he must have been at least sixty. ‘I’ll take my leave now, but may I ask that if either of you discover anything else of interest pertaining to this matter, that you will let me know?’

‘If you wish.’ Flora followed his progress through the double glass doors onto the deck. At the rail he paused, withdrew a cigar from his inside pocket, snipped off the end and lit it.

‘Have you noticed he always manages to obtain more information than he gives away?’ Bunny said.

Flora opened her mouth to agree when he interrupted. ‘Hey, did you see that?’ Bunny nodded to where Crowe sat at the bar with Eloise. ‘He grabbed a large handful of cigarettes from a box on the bar and rammed them into his pocket.’

‘I noticed that unpleasant foible of his earlier.’ She twisted in her seat, removing Crowe and Eloise from her line of vision. ‘Never mind him. We still have no idea who wanted Parnell dead.’

‘There are usually only three reasons for murder.’ Bunny swirled the brandy round his glass. ‘Money, love, jealousy, or to hide another crime.’

‘That’s four.’ Flora’s gaze went back to Hersch, who stood talking to another passenger at the rail, a cloud of smoke hovering between them. ‘Why summon a purser so early in the morning? It’s a bit unusual, don’t you think?’

‘Not really.’ Bunny appeared to give the matter some thought. ‘Hersch strikes me as a man who wouldn’t hesitate to drag a minion from his bed to do his bidding.’

‘In which case, maybe Parnell did the same and lodged the money Eloise gave him in the safe after all?’

‘Only the purser or the captain are in a position to know that, and I doubt they’ll tell us. What about Gerald?’ He nodded to where Gerald sat with Max and Cynthia. ‘Perhaps he had a longstanding grudge against Parnell, and decided to spread malicious gossip about him? We’ve no proof he was arguing with Hester Smith. Why should he?’

‘A grudge that would make him wish to kill him? Even if that were so, it’s unlikely Gerald would commit murder on the first night of a voyage where he will be trapped for over a week?’ Flora gave a dismissive snort. ‘He’s cleverer than that.’

Flora liked Gerald. The man obviously adored his son and he had been especially kind to Eddy too. Yet on the other hand, she didn’t like the way he talked to his wife. Monica might be abrasive and over-emotional at times, but she didn’t deserve the cruel edge of his tongue. Especially not in public.

‘I cannot help wondering who our German friend is working for,’ Flora said.

’What makes you think he’s working for anyone?’

‘Something Eloise said, but she’s scared and may have twisted things.’

‘It seems Hersch has persuaded you that everyone’s word is suspect in this affair but his own.’

Flora’s coffee cup froze on its way to her mouth. ‘Are you saying I’m wrong to trust him?’

‘Not that exactly. But it could be what he wants.’

Flora’s stomach did a sickening lurch. Had she accepted what Hersch had told her too readily? But then what better way to distract her than appearing to be as eager as she to discover the truth? Then again, it wasn’t Hersch who had growled at her outside the dining room. Or was it?

‘Flora,’ Bunny spoke her name in the slow, contemplative way he did when putting a thought together, his arm draped across the back of her chair inches from her shoulder. ‘Why did Hersch ask us to bring information to him? Why not Captain Gates?’

Flora frowned. ‘I don’t know, but it’s a thought. He told me he had examined the body as well.’

‘Really?’ Bunny shifted his glasses slightly on his nose. ‘Why did he do that? And more interestingly, why did the captain allow it?’

‘My thoughts exactly.’ She took a sip of her now lukewarm coffee without tasting it.

Leaving the other passengers in party mood at the bar, Bunny escorted Flora back to her suite.

They strolled the deck arm in arm, in no hurry despite Flora’s excuse she ought to return to check on Eddy. She imagined that to a casual observer they must look like friends who had known each other for years, or maybe even something more. Then the fact struck her that in little more than a week, they would part company in London and go their separate ways, and never see each other again.

He seemed as reluctant to say goodnight as she and as if by mutual consent, they halted at the rail as a shifting veil of milky white fog obscured the moon. ‘Can you tell where we are now?’ she asked, sadness dragging her mood.

‘I could hazard a guess.’ He released her arm and stepped sideways, putting a respectable space between them. ‘The Newfoundland coast was still visible this morning, so I expect we’ll be coming up to the Grand Banks. That’s where the warmer Gulf Stream meets the Labrador Current and causes this fog.’

‘The temperature has certainly dropped in the last few hours.’ Tendrils of hair at her forehead laced with tiny drops of moisture made her shiver, and she gathered her shawl round her shoulders.

‘We’ll be in “Iceberg Alley” tomorrow,’ Bunny said.

‘I hope you don’t mean that literally.’

‘It’s a nickname given by superstitious naval types.’ His lips twitched into a lop-sided smile she had begun to look for. ‘They break off the arctic floes in the spring and float south. I imagine they’re virtually melted before they get here, so we can steer round them.’

‘I hope I don’t get seasick.’ She spoke without looking at him, aware he had eased closer, shielding her from the worst of the wind.

‘There’s an old English sailors’ proverb, that the only cure for seasickness is to sit on the shady side of an old brick church in the country.’

‘Sounds sensible to me.’ Flora laughed.

‘Then again, ginger infused in hot water is good for nausea. It’s an antiemetic, and very effective.’

‘I’ll remember that.’ She smiled at his habit of explaining everything scientifically. She slipped her arm through his and drew him away from the rail. ‘Incidentally, what do you think about those items Max says have gone missing?’ she asked as they set off along the deck again.

‘Max is careless with his things, apparently, so not much. Cynthia mentioned much the same thing to Mrs Penry-Jones earlier.’

‘Really?’ Flora slowed her pace, pulling him back a step. ‘I wouldn’t have thought Cynthia and the old lady had much in common.’

‘I came across them in the writing room, their heads together, arguing.’

‘Arguing?’

‘That’s what it looked like.’ He held a hand out level and waggled it. ‘Cynthia left soon after I arrived, or rather, she marched out just as I walked in. I didn’t catch the more interesting part of their conversation.’

‘Didn’t you find out anything at all?’

‘How was I supposed to do that if Cynthia had left?’

‘Easy, you saunter up to Mrs Penry-Jones and ask if she has any spare notepaper, then you make some remark about Cynthia looking upset. Mrs Penry-Jones might have leapt on the chance to gossip about a passenger who had
annoyed her and revealed something interesting.’

‘How devious.’ His left brow lifted. ‘Besides, the writing room is a female domain, and I didn’t actually want any notepaper.’

‘Do you always take everything so literally?’ Flora stared at him.

‘I’m a trained solicitor, so the answer to that must be yes. Nor do I possess your penchant for investigation, or burglary, come to that.’

Flora administered a hard nudge with her elbow, at which he pretended to stagger in pain for a few steps. She dared not mention Eloise’s plan for a repeat performance.

‘If you have a moment,’ he said, reaching for her door handle. ‘I’d like to ask you something.’

Flora hesitated, but before she could think of an excuse, he had ushered her inside.

The stewardess rose from her chair when she saw them, gathered her magazine and with a knowing sideways glance at Bunny, left.

Flora sighed, anticipating the gossip that would likely circulate among the crew about unchaperoned ladies who entertained men in their suites. She could only hope tales of her sullied reputation did not get back to Lady Vaughn.

‘Don’t tell me you asked her to sit with Eddy?’ Bunny hooked a thumb at the closed door.

‘I did, actually,’ Flora replied, daring him with her eyes to criticize.

‘Eddy’s too old for a babysitter. I shouldn’t imagine he was too pleased about it, either.’

‘He wasn’t, but I gave him no choice.’

‘That’s part of what I want to ask you. Why you’ve been so jumpy lately where Eddy is concerned? Almost
as if you are afraid to leave him on his own. It’s not gone unnoticed.’

‘I was afraid of that. Monica has made a few remarks about it too.’ Flora took a deep breath and related the incident with the husky-voiced man who had accosted her outside the dining room.

Bunny gripped her upper arms firmly in both hands. ‘Why-didn’t-you-tell-me?’ He emphasized each word with a tiny but firm shake.