Chapter 13 #2
“She has a good deal of common sense,” said Alec, with vicarious modesty.
He hadn’t realized Daisy had been responsible for stopping the Talavera, but he might have guessed.
She had been the one to take charge when Lady Brenda turned hysterical after Denton fell overboard.
Dammit, he was proud of her, and he ought to tell her so.
“It was not until she had gone,” Gotobed went on, “that I really thought about it, and I could come up with no other explanation which fitted what I had seen.”
“You are familiar with fire-arms?”
“Not with their use, though I do know something of the metals involved in their manufacture. I was too old to fight in the War, of course, but I trust the details I was able to provide about Germany’s pre-War imports of special steels may have been of some small assistance.
And though a countryman, I am not, as you know, a country gentleman.
The nearest I’ve come to shooting as a sport was earning a few shillings as a beater in my youth.
Any poaching I may have been guilty of—and I admit to nothing, mind you! —was a matter of snares, not shotguns.”
He was convincing. Alec’s suspicions veered towards Chester Riddman, but he asked, “You did not hear a shot?”
“No. The wind noise up there was tremendous, as you may recall.”
“Nor see anyone leaving in a hurry or throwing something overboard which could have been a weapon?”
“My entire attention was on the unfortunate victim. Pertwee, you said? Has he relatives aboard?”
“Apparently not. Thank you, sir, I appreciate your cooperation.
Perhaps I might beg a favour? Since I haven’t my usual facilities for investigation, would you be so kind as to write down your recollections, while they are fresh in your mind, in the form of a formal statement?”
“Certainly. I shall let you have it tomorrow,” Gotobed promised. “I’m afraid I haven’t been very helpful.”
“You have been very clear, which few witnesses manage. And without your report, no one would have known a crime had been committed.”
Gotobed showed no sign of wishing he had kept it to himself. “I hope you catch t’bugger as did it,” he said, standing up, his gaze fixed on something behind Alec.
Alec glanced back. Phillip and Gloria Petrie had joined Arbuckle and Miss Oliphant.
Petrie was standing with his hand on the back of his wife’s chair, and beside him stood Chester Riddman.
Both were tall, sleek, and dressed in the finest evening get-up Savile Row could produce.
Petrie looked as usual amiable and rather fatuous.
In comparison, the younger American had a reckless, dissipated air.
“Riddman?” Alec asked Gotobed.
“Nay, lad, I’ve no call to be naming names.”
“I’ll be asking Mr. Riddman a few questions. But probably not tonight,” he added, spotting Daisy and Lady Brenda heading for the door to the ladies’ lounge. With any luck, Daisy would provide him with some ammunition with which to face Riddman in the morning.
What luck! Daisy thought. Chatting with Arbuckle and Miss Oliphant, she had been wishing she could overhear Alec and Gotobed.
Then the music stopped. Phillip and Gloria were next to Riddman and Brenda on the dance floor, and the two girls spoke to each other.
Still talking, Gloria started towards her father’s table, and Brenda drifted along with her.
Phillip naturally followed, after exchanging a word with Riddman.
Riddman in turn, after an indecisive moment, had reluctantly drifted along with Phillip.
Introductions took several minutes, after which Brenda announced that she was going to powder her nose.
“I’ll come too, Birdie,” said Daisy, so here she was with her quarry, making for the ladies’ lounge, that haven for confidences.
When Brenda emerged from the inner room, Daisy was seated at one of the long mirrors, studying her face critically.
“Freckles,” she observed as Brenda sat down on the stool next to her and took her powder-puff from her evening bag.
“Five minutes of sunshine, even at this time of year, and a whole new crop appears. It’s a good job Alec doesn’t mind them.
I was pleased to see Mr. Riddman dancing with you this evening. ”
Brenda glowed. “Yes, isn’t it marvellous? Chester’s a frightfully good dancer and such fun when he’s in a good mood.”
So much for Second Officer Harvey, whom Daisy had spotted sadly watching Brenda and Riddman dancing. “Has he turned over a new leaf?” she asked.
“I hope so. But I don’t know. The men he plays poker with didn’t turn up after dinner.”
“What, none of them?”
“Neither; there are just two regulars. Daisy, you said they sounded like card-sharps. Do you really think they’ve been cheating him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not both. Have you met them? Or has he described them to you? Tell me about them.”
“I’ve met them.” Brenda didn’t look as if it had been an enjoyable experience. The name she next uttered was no surprise to Daisy. “Pertwee’s the one who found Chester’s wallet on the quay and returned it. Chester always carries loads of
cash, and it was all there so Pertwee must be honest, don’t you think? He’s rather common, though quite good-looking in a flashy sort of way. Actually, he’s just how you might imagine a card-sharp to be.”
“I’d have thought card-sharps do their level best not to look like what they are. Did he win a lot from Chester or was it mostly the other one?”
“I think it was mostly Pertwee. In fact, yes, I remember Chester saying the other chap was a sore loser.”
“Hmm.” Daisy couldn’t work out exactly what had been going on, but it sounded fishy. The Purser might be able to shed some light on the working methods of sharps. “What was the other man like?” she asked.
Brenda looked blank. “Just ordinary. Not quite top drawer but not an absolute outsider. Rather quiet, I think. He didn’t make much impression actually. I can’t even remember his name.”
Blast! thought Daisy. That was the one scrap of information she had wanted most, apart from Riddman’s whereabouts at the time of the shot, which she must not ask after Alec’s categorical prohibition. “Big or small? Young or old?” she persevered.
“Oh, just medium. I can’t see what that has to do with whether he cheated at cards though, as long as he wasn’t a midget who couldn’t fit an ace up his sleeve. He seemed too dull to be a crook, but you just said a card-sharp would try not to look like one.”
“And you said he was losing anyway. Were he and Pertwee friends?”
“I haven’t the foggiest. Daisy, do you think one or both of them has been cheating Chester? Should I warn him?”
“Would he take any notice if you did?” Daisy countered. She sighed as Brenda’s face fell. “Sorry, Birdie! I honestly don’t know, but I’ll see if I can find out any more and tell
you, all right? So if you remember the second man’s name, let me know. It’d help.”
“Right-oh, and thanks. It’s jolly decent of you.”
“I can’t promise a definite answer.” She hadn’t many answers for Alec either. She could have promised Brenda that Pertwee, at least, would never play poker again, but that would lead to questions about how she knew what was not yet general knowledge. “Shall we go back?”
They returned to the Grand Salon and made their way towards the table where they had left the others. Only Alec, Gotobed, and Phillip were there.
“Where’s Chester?” Brenda wondered in an apprehensive tone, scanning the room. “Oh, he’s dancing with Mrs. Petrie! Gosh, maybe he’s going to start being fun again.”
Because he imagined he had wiped out his gambling debts by bumping off the man who held his cheques? Daisy was sure it would not be so simple. Somewhere Pertwee must have heirs, who would receive all his effects, including the cheques.
As Riddman swung Gloria into an impressive turn, Daisy saw that his smile was strained.
He did not look as if he was having fun—unlike the couple nearest them.
Arbuckle and Miss Oliphant were obviously having the time of their lives.
Daisy recalled Wanda’s snide suggestion that the witch was on the catch for a wealthy husband. Could it be true?
“If so, good luck to her,” Daisy murmured to herself as she and Brenda reached the table.
Phillip sprang up. “Lady Brenda, would you like to dance? I know you won’t mind, old thing,” he said to Daisy. “It’s not your sort of dance.”
“Not at all,” Daisy heartily agreed, observing again the cavorting on the dance floor. Sitting down with Alec and Gotobed, she added, “I’ve been dashing up and down companion-ways all day. I’ll have to beg or borrow some more of Miss Oliphant’s salve, or I shan’t be able to move tomorrow.”
“She’s a grand dancer,” sighed Gotobed. “I didn’t think it would be right, dancing when Wanda’s ill abed. I ought to go down and see how she’s feeling.”
“I did stop in earlier,” Daisy told him. “She said she was going to take a powder to help her sleep, so there’s no point in your going down.”
He frowned. “I wish she wouldn’t take those powders. There are herbs which aid sleep without any possibility of dangerous overdosing, Miss Oliphant was telling me. Camomile and valerian, I believe.”
“I expect they’re safe enough,” said Alec, “like mint and ginger. But there are also many plant preparations which are dangerous if not used properly.”
“Speaking of mint,” said Gotobed, signalling to a passing steward, “can I get you a crème de menthe, Mrs. Fletcher? Or something else, perhaps? What will you have, Fletcher?”
“I think I’d better stick to seltzer, thanks. I might venture on a few plain biscuits.”
“Bravo, darling! I’d like to try the ginger wine tonight, Mr. Gotobed.”
Under cover of Gotobed’s giving their orders to the steward, Alec asked in a low voice, “Anything from Lady Brenda?”
“Pertwee did play poker with Riddman, and he was the big winner. She can’t remember the other player’s name, said he was utterly unmemorable, which sounds just like Johnnie Number Two.”
“And any number of others.”
“At least it doesn’t rule out Welford,” Daisy pointed out.
“No. I must go and talk to Riddman’s cabin steward. I was just saying, sir,” he added as Gotobed turned back to them, “that I shall shortly have to—in official parlance—proceed to pursue my enquiries.”
“You’ll stay and eat your biscuits first,” Daisy said sternly.
“I’m actually quite looking forward to them,” Alec admitted.
The digestive biscuits and seltzer were scarcely consumed when the dance ended and the three couples returned to the table.
In the bustle as the Petries, Brenda, and Riddman took over a nearby empty table, Alec gave up his seat to Miss Oliphant and slipped away.
Daisy sadly abandoned half her ginger wine to follow him.
If he should decide to go up to the bridge to report to the Captain, she was determined not to let him go alone.
Too many people knew he was investigating the two “accidents.”
Most people aboard were still under the impression that Denton and Pertwee had fallen overboard by accident. Glancing back from the door, Daisy saw a scene of tranquil enjoyment. How that would change if everyone found out the truth!