The Secret Woman (21 page)

“A pure example of masculine beastliness. I shall be Nefertiti. I'm sure she kept both eyes to the end—and she was more beautiful anyway. So…Nefertiti is my choice for the moment.”

“And Rex Crediton?” I asked.

“Oh, he's going as a grave robber. He'll be attired in a burnoose and have the requisite tools or whatever they used to open the graves of departed Kings and rob them of their treasures.”

“So you have been exchanging ideas?”

“Well, it's not a masked ball this time. There's no need for secrecy. Do try this scent, Anna. H'm. It's strange, don't you agree? The haunting perfume of the East. But I must get ready for dinner. Look at the time.”

I left her thinking that although she talked a great deal she told me very little—and the one thing I wanted to know was how deeply she was involved with Rex Crediton. I should, of course, have been worrying about my own reactions to the Captain. But I should never betray my feelings, I assured myself. No one will ever know.

The Egyptian conjuror known as the Gulli-Gulli man who came aboard at Port Said to entertain us with his tricks was a great success—particularly with Edward and Johnny. Chairs were arranged in a circle round a space in the middle of the lounge and the two boys sat cross-legged on the floor in the front.

The burnoose gave the conjuror the added touch of mystery in their eyes and his wide sleeves must have been a great asset in his work. He did wonders with rings and paper; but the chief trick was the sudden production of living baby chicks which he produced from the strangest places, including the pockets of the boys. He used both boys to hold his rings and papers or whatever he was working with and I doubt whether either of them had ever enjoyed anything so much.

When he put his hands into Johnny's coat and brought out the two baby chicks, they leaped about in their excitement; and when he did the same to Edward they were rolling about with laughter and delight. With the conclusion of each trick the conjuror uttered the cry of “Gulli-Gulli”; and the boys joined in, clapping their heartfelt approval.

That night, exhausted as Edward was, it was long before he slept. The Gulli-Gulli man had left the ship and we had begun our progress down the Canal.

It was a lovely night—there was a moon and the sight of those sandy shores and the occasional palm tree through my porthole window was so alluring that I could not resist slipping out of my cabin and going onto the top deck.

It was deserted and as I leaned over the rail I wondered what Aunt Charlotte would say if she could see me now. My lips curled into a smile as I thought of her disapproval.

“Hello.”

I turned and he was standing there. The moonlight on his bronzed face seemed to make it glow. He was wearing the white dinner jacket and I could understand why Edward thought of him as a kind of super being.

“Hello,” I said rather uncertainly.

“I haven't had much opportunity of speaking to you alone since we left England,” he replied.

“Of course not. You have the ship to look after. The passengers are another matter.”

“They are my concern too.”

“Everything on this ship is, I know. But
we
can be safely left to ourselves.”

“That is what we hope,” he said. “Are you enjoying the trip?”

“I should say like Edward, ‘Aye aye, sir.'”

“He's a bright little fellow,” he said.

“Very. And you are his ideal.”

“Didn't I say he was bright?” He was flippant but somehow I sensed a seriousness in his mood. Then he said an astonishing thing: “I notice that you have become rather friendly with Dick Callum.”

“Oh yes, he has been very helpful.”

“He has more opportunities of mingling with the guests than I have. It's the nature of our work—although when we're in port he can be busy.”

“One just thinks of a ship sailing comfortably along, I'm afraid. One forgets that it is all due to the expert work of the Captain and his crew.”

He touched my hand lightly and briefly as it lay on the rail. “Do you miss the Queen's House?”

“In a way.”

“I'm afraid we can't offer you Louis Quinze settees on board.”

I laughed. “I should have been very surprised to have found them here; and in any case they would be most unsuitable. That's the whole point about choosing furniture. The surroundings are as important as the pieces themselves.” I surprised myself by saying vehemently: “I'm glad to have got away from the Queen's House.”

With that remark our mood changed.

He was suddenly serious. “I can understand it. I thought of you often.”

“Did you?”

“Because of that evening. It was a very pleasant evening for me. And for you?”

“And for me.”

“And then it changed suddenly, didn't it? It was only when your aunt appeared that I realized what an exceptional evening it had been. There she stood like an avenging angel with the sword of flame. Get out of Eden, you miserable sinners.”

I laughed. “That's carrying the simile too far, I think.”

“And then she died.”

“That was much later.”

“And there were rumors. I'm sorry, perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned them. Perhaps it upsets you when people talk of them.”

“Not you,” I said. I no longer cared how I betrayed myself. I was happy now as I had been on that evening in the Queen's House. He—and he alone—had that power to make me throw all caution to the winds.

“She died, and there was some doubt how,” he went on. “And for a while that must have been very unpleasant for you.”

“Yes,” I said. “You see it seemed so incredible that she should take her life. It was so unlike her. And then of course she was incapacitated. But for Chantel…Nurse Loman…I don't know what would have happened. I think it might have been…horrifying.”

“People do strange things. One can never be sure of their motives. If she did not kill herself, who else would have done it?”

“I've often thought of that. There was Ellen, who desperately wanted to get married and was afraid Mr. Orfey never would marry her if she didn't bring Aunt Charlotte's legacy to him, and she wouldn't have that until she died, of course.”

“That seems a good enough motive.”

“But it's so trivial and I could never see Ellen as a murderess. I could much more easily imagine Mrs. Morton as one. She was something of a mystery. There was a daughter who was ill and she longed to be with her. I knew that she was only staying with Aunt Charlotte in the hope of what she would get on her death. I never really knew Mrs. Morton in spite of all the years in the Queen's House. Then of course there was myself—the main beneficiary, who was not on the best of terms with her and who would inherit everything.”

“Which I gather was not very much.”

“I was not to know that. It was only after she died that I realized how hopelessly in debt we were.”

“I believe you were very unhappy at that time.”

“It was…horrible. People in the streets looked at me furtively, whispered about me.”

“I know,” he said.

“You
know
.”

“I know what it means to be under a cloud.” I stared at the land, grayish in moonlight, at the indigo sky and the myriads of stars; the air seemed scented with the faint smell of musk.

“Have you heard any rumors…concerning me?” he asked.

“What rumors? I don't understand.”

“I thought perhaps you might. From Callum, for instance. Has anyone mentioned
The
Secret
Woman
?”

“I may have heard the name of the ship but he has told me nothing about it.”

“You may well hear something,” he said, “and if you did I should like you to hear it from me.”

“It was the ship on which you sailed after…”

“Yes, after that evening when you entertained me at the Queen's House. I want to tell you about that voyage. It was a disaster and is a mystery to this day.”

“Tell me then.”

“Callum was my purser on
The
Secret
Woman
as he is on this ship. Several members of the crew who were with me then are with me now. She was different from
Serene
Lady
. She was a sailing ship.”

“She was also a woman,” I said.

“Odd. It seemed to make a difference. She was a beauty. What we call a barkentine made for the China trade. I was taking her out to Sydney via the Cape and then I was going on to the islands. We had a few passengers on board as we have on this one and one of these was a jewel merchant, John Fillimore. He was taking out a fine collection of diamonds and was going to look at Australian opals. He was a garrulous man who liked to talk of the deals he had made and wanted everyone to know how astute he was. And he died.”

“You mean…”

“I mean that he died. Dr. Gregory diagnosed a seizure. We had dined one evening and afterward had gone to the bar and he had taken I think a brandy or two. He drank rather much. Then he went to his cabin. Next morning when his steward went in he found him dead.”

“Dr. Gregory was on
The
Secret
Woman
too.”

“Yes, he was ship's doctor then as now. It's a feature of our line that we always carry a doctor. Generally, it is only done when the number of passengers is considerably larger. We buried John Fillimore at sea but the diamonds were missing.”

“Did he keep them in his cabin?”

“That was where he was foolish. They were worth a fortune, he said. We had pointed out to him that he would be wise to put them in our safe, but he wouldn't hear of it. Not, he said, while we were in port. Someone could blow the safe and make off with the diamonds. He wasn't trusting that. He was highly suspicious and I think those suspicions were directed at some members of the crew. I remember one night when several of us were talking together—Callum and Gregory were there I believe—he said that knowing he was to sail with such a precious cargo many practiced jewel thieves might have joined the crew for the sole purpose of robbing him. He was very conscious of his valuable stock. That night he told us gruesome stories of how his house as well as his business premises had been burgled; he said he was taking no risks with his diamonds. He never kept them in one place for more than a few days at a time. I thought he had them attached to his waist on a leather belt which he wore next to his skin. One night he was the worse for drink and had to be helped to his cabin and to bed. He was horrified the next day that someone might have seen the bag of diamonds. We used to joke about it. We all said we would be glad when we reached Sydney so that we could be rid of our highly dangerous cargo. And then he died and we buried him at sea. And the diamonds had disappeared. His cabin was turned inside out to search for them. They were nowhere to be found. If some of us hadn't seen them we should not have believed that they existed. When we reached land the matter was reported. The whole ship was searched, but the diamonds were never found. It was the belief of everyone that they were somewhere on the ship.”

“And you never discovered?”

“They were never found,” he repeated. “But you can imagine what rumors there were. John Fillimore had died although he was only in his late thirties and had shown no signs of illness before. That was mysterious in itself but nothing, of course, compared with the missing jewels. And there is one man who is supposed to be aware more than anyone of what goes on in his ship. You know who that is.”

“The Captain?” I said.

“Exactly. I had seen the diamonds. I had held them in my hands. I had, as some will tell you, gloated over them.”

“Had you?”

“I could never feel enthusiastic enough over a diamond to gloat.”

“They represented a lot of money.”

“That is the point. Some people believe that for money any crime may be committed.”

“It's unfortunately true.”

“But I must tell you the rest of the story. We left Sydney for the islands.”

“Coralle?”

“Yes, Coralle. We were staying there two days and nights. There's no real harbor there and the ship lay in the bay.”

“And your wife was there.”

“Yes, she lived there with her mother in a rather broken-down old mansion. You'll see it when you get there. It was a feast day on the island. There were special native dances; bonfires, and all day long drums could be heard summoning people to the main town for the celebrations which were to begin at dusk. It was a colorful occasion and of course everyone wanted to be there. Since the death of John Fillimore and the suspicions which were rife there had been an uneasy atmosphere in the ship. There's something uncanny about a ship. It seems to be a living thing—but perhaps that's a sailor's view. Yet
The
Secret
Woman
seemed to have changed. She was alert and uneasy. I was aware of it. There was a spirit of mutiny on board. One could not lay one's finger on it, it was just something that a sailor feels. I almost felt that I was master of the Flying Dutchman. You know the story. I suppose every sailor does.”

“It was a ghost ship that was seen off the Cape of Good Hope in stormy weather, I believe.”

“Yes, doomed to sail the seas forever because a murder had been committed on board; there was precious metal on board and the crew was struck with plague and not allowed to enter any port. Well, there was that doomed feeling on
The
Secret
Woman
. Some said a murder had been committed, in fact it was generally believed and if we hadn't precious metal we had the Fillimore diamonds. In the legend the crew was smitten with plague, but there was a plague of a sort on
The
Secret
Woman
. It was in their minds; and it seemed that every man on board knew that we were moving towards some climax. There was a subtle disobedience. No one exactly refused to obey orders…but how can I explain it? I was the Captain and I knew and I wished to God I had never seen John Fillimore and his diamonds. So we came into Coralle. Every man wanted to be ashore for the feast, but naturally some would have to stay on board, so it was arranged that a skeleton crew would be on duty there—not more than half a dozen men—until midnight, when the rest would return to the ship. I had seen the feasting before; it did not interest me. I was uneasy that night, as though I knew that my ship was in danger. From the house, I could see it lying there in the bay and I had a premonition that all was not well with my ship. So uneasy was I that I decided to row out and see for myself. I went down to the shore. I took one of the small rowing boats, but I had only just pulled away from the shore when there was a loud explosion and the ship broke into pieces, which were flying all over the sea. People were rushing down to the shore. There was no moon, only the light of a thousand stars. I could only turn the boat and row back to the shore because I could hear the warning rumble and suspected a further explosion. I heard someone shout: ‘It's the Captain.'”