Chapter 14 #2
“Detective Chief Inspector Fletcher,” said Alec. “I’m investigating the men overboard for Captain Dane. I need to send a message.”
“Oh, right-oh. Just let me get a jersey on.” He ducked back into his closet.
Alec took out his notepad and started to write down his message. The operator returned a moment later, his head stuck inside a navy blue jersey which appeared to have caught on his glasses. “Damn,” he said in a muffled voice.
When Alec had helped him untangle himself, he saluted and said shyly, “Kitchener, sir. I don’t usually tie myself in knots like that, sir, only I’d just got to sleep. I was up all night last night trying to find out the extent of that storm.”
“Sorry to wake you. I want my sergeant at Scotland Yard to get onto this first thing in the morning, and we’re several hours behind by now.”
“Scotland Yard! Aye, sir!” On hearing the magic words, Kitchener became not merely ready but eager to please. “Do you want it sent in cipher, sir?”
“I hadn’t thought about it.”
“If it’s just in Morse, sir, anyone who picks it up can decode it.”
“I don’t want that.” Alec frowned. “Unfortunately, as I didn’t expect to be involved in an investigation on board, I didn’t arrange a cipher before I left.”
“That’s all right, sir,” said Kitchener earnestly. “We’ll use the company cipher. It goes straight to a confidential clerk at the head office in London. I’ll put in a couple of lines telling him what to do with it, and he’ll see it gets to Scotland Yard. You can trust him, sir.”
Not having much choice, Alec agreed. He finished writing his message to Sergeant Tring—as an afterthought adding Mrs. Gotobed’s name to Pertwee’s, Welford’s, and Denton’s to be investigated—and handed it to Kitchener to encode.
“I suppose I’d better let the Super know what I’m doing,” he muttered to himself.
Knowing Daisy was aboard, Crane would be more resigned than surprised.
Alec scribbled a second, briefer message.
The young operator was poring over his code book, slowly and painstakingly turning the first message into a mess of gibberish.
The contrast when he turned to his apparatus was amazing.
His finger flickered on the key, sending out the dots and dashes much too fast for Alec to follow, though he had learnt Morse code in the War.
When Kitchener began to encode Superintendent Crane’s message, Alec said, “I’ll leave you to it. Thanks. Let me know when there’s an answer, will you?”
“Aye, sir. Uh, sir, if it comes at four in the morning? The day after tomorrow, that’ll be nine o’clock in London.”
“Then it can wait until breakfast. The only good thing about being on board ship is that my suspects have nowhere to go.”
Going out to the bridge, Alec found Daisy being lectured on the use of the sextant by an extraordinarily genial Captain Dane. She turned, with an appeal in her summer-sky blue eyes.
“As soon as the sky clears,” said the Captain, “I’ll give you a demonstration. You can take a sight yourself, why not?”
The appeal became desperation. “Too kind,” Daisy faltered. “Darling, Captain Dane has been showing me how to work out our position.”
“Oh, there you are, Fletcher. I didn’t know your wife had an interest in navigation.”
“Daisy is interested in many aspects of science, sir. She recently wrote an article on the work of the scientists at the Natural History Museum.”
“Old bones!” The Captain looked at Daisy with considerably diminished respect. “Not at all the same thing. Get young Kitchener to show you his wireless telegraph. Now there’s something worth writing about! Sent off your messages all right, Fletcher?”
“Yes, thank you, sir. Mr. Kitchener was most helpful. It’s a bit late to do anything else tonight, but I’ll be pursuing my enquiries in the morning.”
On that official note, Alec and Daisy departed. When they reached the shelter of the enclosed promenade, Alec said, “You had him almost eating out of your hand for a moment there.”
“I had to say something when you deserted me. I didn’t know the blasted thing was a sextant, but it looked complicated enough to keep him going for a while, if he deigned to speak to me at all. You only just got back in time. He was starting to talk maths at me.”
Alec laughed. “Since you have his permission, though, I think you should take a look at the wireless apparatus. It was interesting.”
“Permission!” said Daisy. “I thought it was an order. I’m ready to collapse, darling. May we go to bed now?”
“Yes, let’s.” He put his arm around her waist and gave her a quick hug, dropping a kiss on her tangled curls, but his mind was still on murder.
“If Riddman is our man, he’ll get cocky thinking he’s not suspected.
With luck I’ll take him off guard in the morning, give him a shock and perhaps get something useful from him. ”
“I think he must have shot Pertwee. But why should he have chucked Denton overboard?”
“Why should Gotobed? Why should anyone? I’ll have a
word with Mrs. Denton tomorrow, but until I can talk to Denton or Tom turns up something at home, there’s not much else to be done on that case.”
“You asked Sergeant Tring to investigate Denton?”
“Who knows what passions seethe in a Suffolk village? There may be something perfectly obvious that Mrs. Denton didn’t want or just didn’t think to tell you. Pertwee and Welford take precedence, of course.”
“Let’s pop in and see how Denton’s doing,” Daisy suggested.
The doctor’s waiting room was deserted. From the sick-bay came a low murmur of voices, but Alec didn’t feel justified in knocking to ask for news. They went on to their cabin.
Daisy awoke next morning cosily wrapped in Alec’s arms in the narrow berth.
She snuggled back against his chest, feeling secure, protected against the world.
Though she had never lacked self-confidence, being married added a new dimension.
Now she was part of a whole. She could rely on Alec’s support—at least when he was not lambasting her for meddling.
He had needed her help yesterday, though, poor darling. And even if he had really found his sea-legs, his usual assistants were far away, so she could still be useful. He had better not try to shut her out now!
Daisy stiffened militantly, drawing a muttered protest from her husband. “Move, woman,” he grunted. “My arm’s gone to sleep.”
A cautious rearrangement of bodies led to another delightful facet of matrimony. Afterwards, Alec went back to sleep but Daisy was wide awake.
Musing on marriage, her thoughts drifted to Mr. Gotobed. He might have been much happier married to someone like Miss Oliphant, but he obviously adored Wanda in spite
of her faults. Yet, however jealous he might be of her past lovers, Daisy refused to believe he would have murdered Pertwee.
Chester Riddman made a much more convincing murderer.
He had a filthy temper, according to Brenda.
He apparently owed Pertwee large sums of money, and his all-powerful grandfather disapproved of gambling.
But could he have failed to realize that his cheques would not vanish with the death of the payee, that sooner or later they would come home to roost?
Who else might have wanted Pertwee out of the way? If only they knew more about him. The only others with whom he had any known contact were Wanda, who had been under her maid’s eye all day, and his cabin-mate and presumed colleague, Welford.
Welford—a squabble amongst thieves? Welford was the brains of the pair.
He had deliberately lost at poker, to avert suspicion, so Riddman’s cheques were in Pertwee’s name.
Suppose they quarrelled and Pertwee refused to hand over Welford’s share of the loot?
Welford was probably quite capable of forging Pertwee’s signature to cash the cheques.
Of course, like Wanda, Welford had been confined to his cabin by sea-sickness. Or had he? He had no servant to give him an alibi. But he had spent plenty of time alone in the cabin with Pertwee’s belongings since Pertwee’s death.
Daisy sat up and shook Alec’s shoulder. “Darling, I have a frightful feeling we may have shut the fox in with the chickens!”