The Pleasure Cruise Mystery (10 page)

“I'm afraid I've drawn blank,” he remarked to Colvin, who, heedless of Vereker, was now busy replacing Mrs. Mesado's belongings in her dressing case.

“The confounded thing's not here either,” said the latter and, closing the dressing case, carefully relocked it and rose to his feet.

In one corner of the cabin stood a very capacious cabin trunk, which had caught Vereker's eye on his first entry.

“Have you gone through that Saratoga?” he asked.

“Yes, once, fairly carefully,” replied Colvin and seemed about to give up the search as fruitless. Then, as if assailed by some swift doubt, he crossed to the trunk, unlocked it and flung up its lid. Vereker came and stood over him as he knelt down and ran swiftly through its contents. The latter consisted of one or two dresses, some silk stockings and underwear which only half filled the trunk. These articles of clothing too had apparently been thrust into the trunk in great haste, for their arrangement was singularly unlike a woman's tidy method of packing. Vereker was struck by this fact, and concluded that they had been disarranged by Colvin during his first search for the missing necklace.

“No, I'm afraid it's gone,” said Colvin in a despairing tone. “I wonder what the devil she could have done with it?”

“It may have been stolen, though that appears an unlikely contingency. Barring yourselves, Doctor Macpherson, Fuller, Ricardo and me, no one so far as we know has entered the cabin.”

“Suppose for a moment it has been stolen, what am I to do?” asked Colvin, turning to Vereker.

“Report the loss to the purser. The captain's omnipotent on board his ship, and I dare say he could order every cabin to be thoroughly searched if he felt that the necklace had been stolen.”

“That'd be an unpleasant sort of thing at the commencement of a pleasure cruise,” remarked Colvin ruefully.

“Yes, like a politician, the captain would doubtless explore every avenue before resorting to such a drastic expedient. In any case you can report to the purser later on. He'd probably suggest something helpful in the circumstances. Such losses must have occurred before in his experience. He'll certainly impress on you that the company isn't responsible.”

With these words Vereker glanced at his watch and uttered a mild exclamation of surprise.

“Thanks very much for your help, Vereker. I don't see that we can do any more,” said Colvin, taking the hint, and added, “I'll get back to Constance. She'll be wondering what has happened to me.”

The two men left the cabin. Colvin switched off the light, locked the door and thrust the key in his pocket. In the alleyway he again thanked Vereker for his assistance and, bidding him good morning, turned and disappeared into No. 90.

Back in his own quarters, Vereker sat down once more in his easy chair and gave himself up to thought. He was not quite sure of this man Colvin. There was something insincere about him, something which certainly did not inspire confidence. He was genial, plausible, easy-mannered, but his face suggested shiftiness rather than weakness. He was apparently no fool, and his adroit adaptation of action to conceal his hidden purpose, his swift, suspicious awareness warned Vereker that he must not take his man too lightly in any battle of wits. From Colvin his thoughts turned to Mrs. Mesado, to the quarrel in her cabin, to the missing necklace, to various incongruous factors that obstinately refused to fit into any rational scheme of things, and he grew more and more amazed as he slowly began to piece all he had learned into a constructive theory. At last, weary of speculation, he rose from his chair. The light of dawn was already throwing up the brilliant hues of the cretonne curtain drawn across his window. In a few minutes the steward would bring his morning fruit. It was hardly worth while trying to sleep. He drew the curtain of his window and looked out. The fog was dispersing and the ship's engines were beginning to throb with a livelier pulsation. He picked up his safety razor and began to fit in a new blade. He was proceeding with this operation, his mind still intensely preoccupied with other matters, when he dropped a portion of the nickel-plated mechanism of the razor. He stooped to pick it up, but on striking the cabin floor it had bounded somewhere out of immediate view. He knelt down to search for it, and instantly his eye caught the glitter of something lying under the electric radiator. Thrusting his hand underneath the radiator, to his unbounded astonishment, he drew forth a rope of dazzlingly brilliant stones. One glance at the emerald pendant and the large emerald butterfly clasp forming part of the ornament informed him that it was Mrs. Mesado's lost necklace.

“Well I'm damned!” he exclaimed, and stood for some moments admiring the flashing blue and white radiance of the magnificent diamonds that hung in a shimmering loop from the fingers of his left hand.

“Now, how the devil did it get there?” he promptly asked himself, and at once his thoughts flew to Colvin and to Colvin's unexpected visit to his cabin an hour or so previously. No, there seemed no explicable connection between Colvin's visit and this amazing discovery of Mrs. Mesado's necklace. Colvin had been sincerely enough distressed at its loss; either that or he was a consummate actor. Then, as Vereker stood dumbfounded trying to fathom the import of this astonishing find, he remembered that arresting moment when he had heard the impact of some article striking his cabin floor, an incident which at the time he had been unable satisfactorily to explain. At once, too, his memory flashed back to the half-drawn curtain of his window, which he felt certain he had fully drawn on entering his cabin and switching on the light. Some one must have pushed back that curtain. A curious smile spread slowly across his features as he gathered the necklace of scintillating gems into a blazing heap in his left hand and then thrust them into his trousers' pocket.

“That sheds a little more light on the subject,” he remarked to himself, and at that moment Fuller brought in a tray on which was a plate of fruit. Having eaten a few grapes, Vereker shaved, enjoyed the invigorating stimulus of a hot sea-water bath and quickly dressed. Leaving his cabin, he knocked on Ricardo's door and was greeted with a sleepy “Come in!”

“Not up yet, Ricky!” he exclaimed on seeing his friend still huddled up in bed, his dark head almost completely hidden beneath the clothes.

Ricardo moved lazily, rubbed his eyes and finally sat up.

“How now, Algernon? Anything important to discuss with your chief? I thought it was the steward. I see he has left my tea. I didn't hear him come in.”

“Drink a cup and pull yourself together, Ricky. I want to ask you a few questions.”

“A police interrogatory at this unearthly hour! Algernon, you're an outrage. I was dreaming I was a pirate and was boarding

and you shatter the dream by saying you want to ask me a few questions. You've robbed me of an adventure of the soul. I was about to savour the delight of cutting throats, of rapine...”

“Shut up, Ricky, and listen to me.”

“Perhaps you're a fair substitute for sudden death. I'm listening. Anything serious happened?”

“Yes. In the first place, do you remember on which side of her head Mrs. Mesado parted her hair?”

“This is momentous, Algernon; I'm glad you're not being frivolous before breakfast. A woman's hair is a subject to which I've always given considerable thought. I used to think a woman parted her hair on the side she thought most becoming to her face. This is, of course, an error into which a fashionable hairdresser might fall. If she's right-handed she always parts it on the right side; if she's left-handed, on the left. The ambidexterous, and most women are more or less so, part it on either side. The final test, however, is on which side does her hair part in a dead straight line?”

“Did Mrs. Mesado part her hair on the left of right side?” asked Vereker with a shade of curtness. He was in no mood for Ricardo's airy trifling.

“On the left side. Next question, please.”

“You're certain?”

“I took particular notice. You remember her perm wave, don't you? It fell in shining breakers over her right ear.”

“I do. Your answer's a confirmation.”

“They're usually an education, but proceed.”

“When you were pacing round the deck this morning, Ricky, did you notice how many cabin windows were alight on the starboard side?”

“Yours was the only one on the whole deck—a lone star in a world of Cimmerian gloom!”

“You're sure that Mrs. Mesado's cabin was in darkness all the time?”

“Positive. A lighted window has an overwhelming attraction for a vulgarly inquisitive man like me. I'd have remembered.”

“Do you know what your statement implies, Ricky?”

“It implies that the story of Lady Godiva will always appeal to human beings, and that deaf, natural Peeping Tom will be held up for ever as a nasty example by nastier people.”

“I'm not referring to your peculiar type of curiosity, Ricky. You remember my mentioning that I heard Colvin and Mrs. Mesado talking in her cabin between 1.30 and 1.45 this morning?”

“Yes.”

“Well, doesn't it strike you that they were talking in the dark? Why had they put out the light?”

“An intriguing question, Algernon,” replied Ricardo, smiling. “It reminds me inconsequently of where was Moses when the light went out? To be blunt, they were doing something in that cabin which they were anxious to hide from the outer world. I was the only outer world at the time you mention.”

“Exactly, and I've a shrewd idea of the nefarious game they were up to.”

“You're not letting your erotic imagination run riot, Algernon?”

“Even my imaginative efforts are rather practical, Ricky, and I'm beginning to think I've made an amazing discovery.”

“Let's have the story; I'm all agog.”

“Not yet. When I'm certain of my facts I'll tell you more. In the meantime you've got to give me a hand. I feel sure that a murder has been committed. How I don't know, but I'm going to find out. It will be a tricky business, for we're dealing with a clever man in our friend Colvin.”

“You've met him?”

“He paid me a visit this morning. First he called on you, but you were asleep, and then he descended on me.”

“What did he want?”

“He wanted to thank us for all the trouble we had taken in this business of his sister-in-law.”

“His gratitude seems a bit devastating. I lost nothing by being asleep.”

“He was fishing for information. I'm sure he wanted to find out if I'd overheard anything of the row between him and Mrs. Mesado in the latter's cabin.”

“You left him guessing, if I know you, Algernon.”

“Naturally. He also wanted to ask my advice. He says that Mrs. Mesado's necklace is missing and was eager to know what steps to take.”

“Good Lord, he doesn't suspect me or you of having pinched it, does he?”

“No, I don't think so.”

“She wasn't wearing it when I found her body on the deck. I'm positive of that because I wasn't tempted.”

“Somehow or other he seemed certain on that score.”

“I'm glad. Where the devil can she have put it? Did she hand it over to the purser?”

“No. I've got it here,” replied Vereker, drawing the necklace from his pocket. “You said you could identify it if you saw it again.”

“Great heavens, that's it all right,” gasped Ricardo in sheer astonishment, “but how the dickens did it come into your hands?”

“It was flung into my cabin through the open window in the early hours of this morning, just before you came across her dead body on the deck.”

“Do you think she threw it in?”

“I'm not certain. You see, my window is next to her own, and whoever threw it in must have thought he or she was returning it to Mrs. Mesado's cabin.”

“I follow you, Algernon, but if there was murder committed for the sake of that necklace, why return it to Mrs. Mesado's cabin?”

“She may have thrown it in for safety, but it's more than I can explain at the moment. Later we shall find an answer to the question.”

“What are you going to do with it? It must be worth a couple of thousand pounds.”

“Hang on to it for the present and say nothing. I may have to have a confidential talk with your friend Partridge to avoid dangerous complications. Now I'm going to tell you how you can lend me a hand.”

“Fire away, Algernon; I'm simply too excited for anything.” With these words Ricardo sprang from his bed, slipped on a dressing-gown, lit a cigarette and sat down in a wicker chair. He looked up expectantly at Vereker, who stood rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“You've a knack of making friends, Ricky, and I want you to cultivate Miguel Dias. Learn all you can about him. He'll probably mislead you, but Miss Penteado may prove less discreet, and she knows him fairly well I should say. Another task—perhaps more congenial to your temperament, is to pay delicate attentions to Mrs. Mesado's maid. She may be informative under tactful pressure.”

“You mean Renée Gautier? I've already got on nodding terms with her and wouldn't mind exerting tactful pressure; she has an inviting waist. Leave her to me. She's of French parents and, though English in outward respects, I'm sure she has the racial characteristics highly developed.
Elle meurt d'amour!
”

“Sounds promising, but be most discreet. There's more than one in this affair, I feel sure, and we mustn't rouse the faintest suspicion. I'll see you at breakfast.”