Murder on the Minneapolis (24 page)

T
HE STEWARDESS HAD
just set Flora’s morning tea in front of her when the doorbell sounded.

‘That’s most probably the doctor.’ The stewardess rubbed both hands down her apron. ‘I’ll let him in as I leave.’

‘How is the ankle this morning?’ Dr Fletcher’s cheery greeting was in stark contrast to Flora’s mood. ‘How did you sleep last night? Well, I hope?’

‘Your sedative helped, but each time I moved, the pain woke me.’ Her early morning jaunt to Mr Hersch’s cabin had not helped, but she chose not to mention that.

‘I have something which might help.’ He set his leather bag on the low table in the middle of the room and rummaged inside. ‘Although wouldn’t you be better off staying in bed?’

‘I’d rather not. I hate lying in bed during the day.’ Ignoring his disapproving frown, she submitted meekly to having her temperature taken, followed by another gentle, but painful manipulation of her ankle.

‘The swelling isn’t as bad as I thought, but you do look peaked this morning. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell?’

‘I did not fall,’ Flora said through gritted teeth. ‘I was pushed. I cannot remember whether I hit my head or not. I had rather a lot to think about at the time.’

‘Hmm, any nausea, headache or dizziness?’ He held her wrist lightly in his fingers and peered at his watch.

‘All three, actually, but I’ll get over it. Especially if the person who pushed me is found.’ She caught his sceptical look beneath the concerned façade. ‘You don’t believe me, do you?’

‘Well, let me put it this way, young females can be particularly fanciful when not kept busy. And you have been running around this ship making some startling claims during this voyage.’ He tipped some of the contents from a small brown bottle into a tiny glass and held it out.

‘What claims? I haven’t said anything that Mr Hersch hasn’t.’ She took it from him and downed the cloudy liquid in one swallow, shuddering as the bitter taste hit the back of her throat. ‘Besides, I must have discovered something important to unsettle our killer. And I don’t mean Mr Crowe, either.’

He released a derisive chuckle as he examined the readings on the thermometer under the light. ‘Mr Crowe is most certainly the culprit, and he will face the authorities when we reach England.’

‘You’ve accepted he killed Mr Parnell then?’ Flora frowned. ‘Didn’t your report state he died in a fall?’

‘Uh, well, I couldn’t do a full post-mortem, so perhaps I was mistaken. Besides, he killed that young lady, didn’t he? The actress?’

‘Mr Hersch doesn’t think it wasn’t an accident.’ The urge to display her superior knowledge was strong. ‘Parnell was a fraudster, or something like that.’ The memory of the telegram she had seen on Seaman Croft’s desk rose into
her head, but she wasn’t sure why. ‘Something to do with Montana, I think.’ Her head spun and the details slipped frustratingly out of reach.

‘Ah yes, that German chap. He’s a Pinkerton’s man, I believe.’ His eyes narrowed, making them appear closer together than they already were. ‘He’s been asking a lot of impertinent questions.’

‘Hardly impertinent. He’s trying to unearth the truth. Between us we have monopolised that wireless operator’s time, and—’ she broke off as the dizziness returned.

Had Bunny told the captain of her attack? She couldn’t remember. No, she hadn’t seen him yet that morning to ask.

‘Dr Fletcher, would you ask Captain Gates to come and see me?’

His dismissive grin made her want to slap him. ‘The captain knows all he needs to about this affair. As your doctor, I suggest you concentrate on getting better. I’m still worried about your head. You appear to be rambling somewhat.’

‘Do I?’ Flora gave this idea consideration. He might be right. She did seem to be chattering away to no purpose. ‘All right, I’ll stop talking and let you do your job.’

‘Now,’ he began, all smiles now that she was doing as she was told. ‘I want you to take another dose of this in an hour. Could you do that for me?’ He placed the brown ridged bottle on the table with a firm click.

Flora grimaced. ‘If I must, though it makes me groggy and I can’t think straight.’

‘That’s what potassium bromide solution is supposed to do, young lady.’

Flora dozed, the pain in her hip markedly dulled by the
sedative, but the passing of time took on an unreal quality, so she barely registered Bunny’s arrival. One moment she was alone, then the next time she opened her eyes, he had placed a tray on the table in front of her.

‘I brought your breakfast.’

‘I doubt I could eat half that.’ Flora surveyed the array of sausage, fried eggs, bacon, fruit compote, toast and marmalade. ‘The coffee smells good, though, would you mind pouring me a cup?’

‘How are you this morning?’ He handed her a steaming hot cup that smelled heavenly.

‘Sore, drowsy, definitely not myself.’ She took a delicious sip of aromatic coffee and eased back in her chair. ‘Did I ruin Cynthia’s dress?’

‘Not at all. Simply a few dirty marks the laundry are confident they can remove. This is hardly the time to worry about a dress.’

‘I’m a woman. Clothes matter, especially when they aren’t mine.’

‘Dr Fletcher thinks you imagined that push, you know.’ Bunny perched on the arm of the chair opposite, his arms folded across his chest. ‘He said I was to ensure you don’t exert yourself for the next couple of days. He suspects you have a head injury.’

Flora dismissed him with a wave, judging the good doctor must be severely under-employed to create problems where none existed.

‘Was anyone missing from the dance last night?’ Flora picked desultorily at her food, resenting Bunny’s critical eye observing her every bite. At the same time, a tiny voice in her head told her she should appreciate his concern instead of being annoyed by it.

‘Not that I noticed. Mrs Penry-Jones got quite voluble
on the fruit punch and had to be escorted back to her suite by a crewman.’

‘Where was Hester?’

‘Oh, she had gone to be sick in the powder room. Returned looking very green. Overdid the punch too, I imagine. Then Cynthia sulked when Max got tired early and insisted on leaving. Poor chap looked quite worn out.’

‘What about Gerald and Monica?’

‘They stayed until they turned the lights out.’ He poured coffee for himself and stirred sugar into it. ‘Miss Ames proved to be quite an accomplished dancer. Couldn’t get her off the floor.’

‘I had this strange dream last night,’ Flora began as a memory resurfaced. ‘Where you told me you had been named after some ancient Greek.’ She peered at him over the rim of her cup.

The rhythmic clink of his spoon halted. Slowly, he set it down gently in the saucer. ‘Ah, you did hear me. No dream, I’m afraid. A whim of my father’s. Ptolemy was Alexander the Great’s boyhood companion at Mieza, you know.’

‘No, I don’t know. What’s Mieza?’

‘A sort of boarding school for Macedonian nobles. Alexander studied there under Aristotle.’

Flora cut up her sausage into small pieces, mainly to disguise the fact she hadn’t eaten any, while speculating on how such a royal name got abbreviated to that of a small furry creature with oversized ears.

‘Many believed that Ptolemy was Alexander’s illegitimate half-brother.’ Bunny balanced the coffee cup in one hand and plucked a slice of toast from the silver rack with the other. ‘I like to think that’s true, anyway.’

‘Why didn’t your parents call you Alexander? That wouldn’t have raised any eyebrows.’

‘They did actually. That’s my second name.’ He pointed his toast at her, eyes narrowed. ‘I would appreciate it if we dropped the subject now.’

‘As you wish.’ She paused with her fork held in mid-air, a roundel of sausage clinging to the tines. ‘You do believe I was pushed down those steps, don’t you?’

‘I’ll admit I wasn’t sure at first. No, take that look off your face. It’s not beyond the bounds of possibility that your mind played tricks after everything that has happened. However, I lay awake last night thinking about it.’

‘And what conclusion did you come to?’ Flora held her breath. If he dismissed her again she hadn’t the strength to fight him. Her limbs felt heavy and his voice kept receding, then growing louder again. Even the room seemed to be moving, though she attributed that to the motion of the ship.

‘I agree with you. Gus Crowe is a sneak thief, not a violent criminal who would stab a woman for a gold bracelet. Parnell died in a botched robbery.’ He took a bite of toast and chewed thoughtfully. ‘Incidentally, Hersch told me at breakfast that they had found the murder weapon. The one used on Eloise. He didn’t say anything else.’

Aware of an uncomfortable buzzing behind her eyes, Flora decided to explain about the knife later; when her head was clearer.

‘Tell me about your plans for your factory in England.’ Apart from not wishing to discuss knives, the reason for her question escaped her. It wasn’t as if she would be a part of it.

‘My main problem is finding an engineering firm to make the parts.’ He folded both hands over his flat stomach. ‘I’ll have to manufacture every piece of the engine and bodywork myself, of course, which will make
production very slow. Then there’s the travelling needed to show my designs to possible buyers at the show.’

‘What show?’ Flora asked through a yawn.

‘There’s an automobile show in Madison Square Garden scheduled for next November.’

‘Isn’t that where they hold those boxing matches?’

‘It is, although other events are staged there too. The exhibition will last an entire week, sponsored by the Automobile Club of America.’

‘There is a club for motor cars?’ Flora asked, incredulous.

‘Your scepticism wounds me, Miss Maguire. Motor travel is no temporary madness, I’m confident it has a long and illustrious future. There will be upwards of sixty exhibitors at the show in New York, all displaying at least thirty new autos.’

‘So many? I had no idea.’ Flora eased her neck from side to side, but it didn’t help. She felt as though she were under water.

‘I don’t think you’re listening to me, are you, Flora?’ Bunny slapped the arms of his chair and rose, the sound bringing her eyes open with a snap.

‘Dr Fletcher said I was to make sure you took some more medicine.’ He walked behind her chair towards the mantle, returning with the bottle, poured the liquid into the glass and handed it to her.

She took it with unsteady fingers, staring at it for a few seconds with dismay.

Bunny skirted her chair and when his back was turned, she tipped the contents into the last inch of coffee in her cup. Licking her lips ostentatiously, she held out the empty glass. ‘There, now take it away.’

Chuckling, he hauled her to her feet, then swept her
into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. Flora tried to say something about wishing the circumstances were different for such a romantic display, but the words came out as an unintelligible slur. The effort to stay awake became too much, and she barely registered the click of the door before sleep claimed her.

F
LORA’S TROUBLED SLEEP
was interspersed with vivid dreams of storms at sea, which faded into the kitchen with the black range that had been such a strong image throughout her life. The scene played out as it always did, with herself as a small child on a stone floor, her mother’s skirt clutched in her hands. Then something new intruded.

Someone was calling her name, over and over.

With a groan of protest, she rolled her shoulder to rid herself of a disturbing weight that pressed down on her.

‘Flora!’ The voice came again, louder this time.

She prised her eyelids open, bringing a hand to shield her eyes as stark daylight poked the tender spot behind her forehead. A blur of colour and shadows came into focus and turned into Bunny’s worried face, looming inches above hers.

She jerked upright on an elbow, blinking. ‘What’s happening?’

Bunny sighed, gathering her swiftly in his arms and held on tight, his hands seeking out the contours of her back. He pressed his lips against her forehead and he rocked her gently.

Flora stiffened at first, confused, until his touch sent
ripples of pleasure through her spine, so she relaxed and leaned into him. Her lips curved into a smile and she opened her eyes, then froze at the sight of Mr Hersch in the door frame, his hand on Eddy’s shoulder.

‘How are you feeling?’ Hersch asked, unsmiling, his penetrating gaze searching her face.

She wriggled out of Bunny’s grasp. ‘Fast asleep up until two minutes ago.’ She brought a hand to her hair, encountered a mass of tousled curls that were past repairing, and lowered it again. ‘Why is everyone in my bedroom?’

She hugged the coverlet up to her neck, forgetting that beneath it she was fully dressed.

‘She isn’t sweating from what I can tell.’ Hersch crept closer, making the tiny space claustrophobic. ‘No shivering or tremors. Her pupils look clear and are of normal size.’

‘How much of that sedative have you taken?’ Bunny wrested the coverlet from between her fingers and took her hand in his. ‘No, don’t scowl at me like that, Flora, this is important. How many doses did you take apart from the one I gave you this morning?’

‘Um, well actually, I threw that one away. Dr Fletcher gave me one last night and another this morning.’ She shuddered. ‘It tasted bitter and made me feel as if I was floating. I haven’t taken any more. Why?’

The intense look in Bunny’s eyes dissolved with an exhaled breath. ‘Oh, thank God for your contrary nature.’

Flora scooted farther up the bed. ‘Will someone please tell me what’s happening?’

Bunny dropped a kiss on the back of her hand, tugged the coverlet aside and pulled her gently upright. ‘Come into the sitting room, and we’ll explain.’

‘I’ll just settle this young man with Mrs Gilmore.’ Hersch patted Eddy’s shoulder and guided him out of the
room. ‘There, you see, Ed, old chap, fuss about nothing.’ His soothing voice receded as they left, followed by Eddy’s half-hearted protest that he wanted to stay.

Monica Gilmore must have been waiting outside the suite door, for Flora heard her high-pitched greeting to Eddy, followed by enthusiastic plans she had in store for the afternoon, most of which seemed to involve food.

Reassured he would be looked after, Flora concentrated on getting her stiff muscles to move.

Bunny supported her as she limped into the sitting room, where Captain Gates stood with Dr Fletcher. Officer Martin stood by the door, hands clasped behind his back as if on guard.

‘To what do I owe the pleasure of this gathering?’ Flora asked, her voice brisk with embarrassment at her rumpled, sleep-heavy appearance.

‘Don’t joke, Flora,’ Bunny’s grip on her arm tightened as he lowered her into a chair. ‘We were genuinely worried about you.’

‘And very relieved to see you well, Miss Maguire.’ Captain Gates’s ever-present smile broadened, while the other two remained grim-faced.

Hersch plucked the brown bottle from the mantle and held it up. ‘Is this what the doctor gave you, Flora?’

She nodded, frowning. ‘It’s bromide, to help me sleep.’

‘I don’t think so, my dear.’ He dropped the bottle into his pocket. ‘When we have this analysed in London, I suspect we’ll find it’s a strong concentration of laudanum. Well, Dr Fletcher?’ He turned to face the doctor. ‘How much of this did you intend her to take?’

Without warning, Bunny launched himself at the man, both hands encircling his throat. ‘You were asked a question! How much did you give her?’

The doctor’s eyes bulged and he tried to unhook Bunny’s hands, but to no effect.

‘Bunny!’ Flora started forwards in her chair. ‘What are you doing?’ She cast a swift glance at the detective, expecting him to intervene, but he remained standing passively to one side.

Officer Martin looked about to step between them, but Captain Gates shook his head.

‘I said, how much?’ Bunny repeated, giving Dr Fletcher a rough shake.

‘Four grains,’ the doctor croaked, his voice distorted. ‘Four grains each dose.’

Bunny released him with a snort of disgust, flattened both hands against the doctor’s chest and shoved him backwards with such force, he staggered against the bulkhead.

Fletcher righted himself again, a sneer on his mouth, though the hand he pushed through his hair shook.

‘I don’t even know what that means,’ Flora murmured, her head still full of images from her dream.

She stared at Bunny, now red-faced as he fought to settle his breathing. Accustomed to his calm manners and gentle nature, his burst of uncontrolled anger shocked her. The fact it was on her behalf was strangely exciting.

‘Six grains is a fatal dose,’ Hersch said finally, a brow raised. ‘The accumulation of that much laudanum over a twelve hour period would most likely have killed you, Flora.’

‘What?’ Flora gaped. ‘Why would Dr Fletcher try to kill me?’ The remnants the fog cleared from her mind, but she had no reason not to believe them. Had the doctor pushed her down the steps? Is that why he was so keen to intimate she had imagined it?

‘Care to enlighten the lady, Fletcher?’ Captain Gates
spoke for the first time.

‘Yes, why don’t you do that – Fletcher?’ Bunny came to stand beside her chair, one hand caressing her shoulder.

The doctor’s eyes flickered with doubt and he stared at the floor.

‘Nothing to say, Doctor?’ Hersch snorted. ‘Then let me do it for you. Nine years ago, Mr Parnell once organized a fraudulent land deal in Montana.’

‘Montana,’ Flora repeated, sifting through the fog in her head. ‘Where have I heard that word before?’

‘I sent a telegraph to a contact of mine to unearth a list of those people who lost money in that venture,’ Hersch continued. ‘Their response came through this morning. Gerald Gilmore lost money in that deal. He remembered Parnell and called him by another name.’

Flora vaguely recalled Bunny mentioning something like that, then pushed the memory away and concentrated on what Hersch was saying.

‘Dr Fletcher lost money in the same enterprise,’ he went on. ‘A lot of money. He also encouraged some of his patients to invest.’

‘I didn’t know it was fake!’ Dr Fletcher interjected. ‘I was swindled too.’

‘Unfortunately,’ Hersch addressed Flora as if he hadn’t spoken, ‘The good doctor was hounded out of his practice. He could hardly continue his career in an assumed name, so hiding was his only option. He took a position as ship’s doctor to avoid the scandal.’

‘You call this a career?’ Dr Fletcher gave the suite a slow, contemptuous look. ‘Handing out plasters and tonics to rich, spoiled hypochondriacs?’

‘You also recognized Frank Parnell on that first night,’ Hersch continued.

‘I spent years rehearsing what I would say if I ever saw him again. Then there he sat, throwing money around without a care. I lay awake half the night, then rose early and went to his stateroom before I lost my nerve.’

‘Why? Did you expect him to apologize?’ Bunny demanded.

‘I wanted him to know he had ruined my life!’ Fletcher’s gaze, cold and reptilian, slid towards Flora. He reeked of self-pity, making her wonder how she had ever imagined him attractive, let alone trusted him.

‘What happened, Doctor?’ Hersch said gently, gesturing to Bunny for silence.

‘Parnell came to the door with a towel held to a gash on his head.’ Fletcher swallowed before continuing. ‘Nothing serious, but it bled quite a bit. He assumed that in a fit of remorse, Crowe had sent me along to see to him. When I told him why I was really there, he laughed; said I was simply an unlucky punter and should have got over it by now.’

‘I can see why that would enrage you,’ Hersch said. ‘However, that doesn’t explain how Mr Parnell ended up dead.’

‘I don’t know what came over me.’ Dr Fletcher hunched his shoulders as if the events of that night still confused him. ‘I wanted to remove that smug look from his face. I picked up the first thing I laid my hands on, which happened to be an ashtray, and hit him.’ His mouth twisted as if the memory gave him a certain satisfaction. ‘That gash was a darned sight worse when I had finished, I can tell you.’

He massaged the knuckles of his right hand repeatedly, and having begun, appeared reluctant to stop. ‘I cleaned the wound with the same towel, then removed any traces
of blood I found from the stateroom. I waited until the crew had finished washing the decks. I was going to throw him overboard. After all, no body, no crime, eh?’

Flora winced, but no one else responded to the doctor’s uneasy smile.

‘I dragged him as far as the companionway, but heard voices, so dumped him down the steps. I went back to his stateroom to collect the bloodied towel and the ashtray, then returned to my cabin, where I waited for a crewman to tell me a body had been found.’

‘It was simple after that.’ He gave a resigned shrug. ‘Once he was delivered to my office, I stripped and washed the body to ensure no evidence remained to contradict my report that he had died from a fall.’

‘What did you do with the towel and the ashtray?’ Bunny asked

‘I threw them overboard.’ Fletcher’s upper lip curled in contempt. ‘A task which proved more difficult than it sounds. Whenever I left my cabin, a passenger waylaid me with a minor complaint. You’d be surprised how little free time the crew get aboard this ship.’

‘I still don’t understand why you tried to kill
me
,’ Flora said. ‘I never suspected you.’

‘When I came to examine you this morning, you mentioned that accursed land deal.’ His sullen glare turned to uncertainty. ‘I knew it was only a matter of time before you and the detective here discovered I was involved. So I swapped the bromide for laudanum.’

‘You weren’t supposed to wake up.’ The weight of Bunny’s stare made Fletcher fidget and turn red. ‘Our good doctor had already prepared the ground about a possible head injury.’

‘Which I didn’t have,’ Flora murmured. Tipping the
medicine into her coffee was a momentary impulse. She could just as easily have drunk it to keep Bunny happy. Although had it not been for that awful drug, she wouldn’t have been so voluble with Fletcher in the first place.

Captain Gates jerked his chin towards Officer Martin as a signal to escort the doctor out. Fletcher shrugged off the man’s retraining arm with a harsh, guttural snort, raked the company with a final defiant glare and stomped outside where two crewmen waited.

The captain replaced his cap, tipped the peak at each of them, then followed.

‘I cannot believe it was him,’ Flora said softly as the door clicked shut. She looked up at Mr Hersch. ‘Did you know all along he had been swindled by Parnell, or rather, Marlon van Elder?’

‘No,’ Hersch replied. ‘I told the truth about the list. I only received it this morning. I certainly didn’t expect his name to be on it.’

‘How did you know about the sedative?’ Flora asked.

‘Eddy told me. We met on his way back from breakfast. When I asked how you were, he said you were sleeping and the suite smelled like a sweet shop. That’s how I knew something wasn’t right.’

Flora stared at him. ‘What has that got to do with anything?’

‘Cinnamon. It’s not used in the administration of bromide, but often mixed into laudanum to disguise the bitter taste.’

‘Well it didn’t work, that stuff tasted horrible.’ Flora wrinkled her nose in remembrance.

‘I even insisted you take it.’ Bunny shook his head, his face white. ‘Thank goodness you defied me.’ He sniffed ostentatiously. ‘Come to think of it, it does smell a bit like a
confectioners’ emporium in here.’

Flora giggled, but the sound was too close to hysteria for comfort.

‘I happened to be in the upper lobby when our intrepid detective pounded on Fletcher’s office door and dragged him out,’ Bunny said.

‘He was quite insistent about tagging along,’ Hersch said, amused.

‘I wonder if Seaman Crofts is aware his telegraph machine has captured a dangerous criminal?’ Flora rubbed her upper arms with both hands to still a shiver that wouldn’t go away.

‘I doubt the good doctor was dangerous until Parnell goaded him,’ Hersch said. ‘Then something just snapped. In nine years, rage can embitter a man into desperation. Now.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘I’ll leave you to recover fully, Flora. I, however, have another killer to apprehend.’

‘I had almost forgotten Eloise,’ Flora said on a sigh. ‘You don’t think Dr Fletcher was responsible for her death?’

‘That would make everything conveniently simple, wouldn’t it? But no, I think not. However, you may rest assured, the net is closing in.’ He held up a finger as he backed towards the door.

When he had left, Flora became keenly aware of Bunny’s presence. The fact he had been so angry at the doctor’s actions thrilled her on the one hand, but a niggling thought scraped incessantly at the edge of her brain.

‘Bunny? Do you happen to have an interest in antique oriental daggers?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ He stood over her, a frown drawing his brows together. ‘Are you sure you didn’t take more of that laudanum than you said?’ He tucked a strand
of her hair behind her ear. ‘What was that about daggers?’

‘Nothing, just something that occurred to me.’ She raised her chin to meet the angle of his gaze, searching for something in his eyes. There was nothing there. No hostility, no anxiety; simply a man who had feared for someone he cared for. She squeezed the hand that he still held against her hair.