copper's cruise 18

 

Chapter 18 death of a cad part 4

 

“Freddy,” said Alexander, “If that little tick caused you to barge him and he fell overboard, I wish you will let me know, because then I can see my way to arguing that it was an accident.”

“I didn’t,” said Freddy. “Eric and I went back to our cabin after I had walked Violet… Miss Pettit… back to hers, where we played a number of silly card games for an hour or so, and then went to bed. If he claims I threw him in the drink, he’s lying; tempting as it was, I have seen crocodiles swimming, and they give me the horrors. I wouldn’t throw a man over, and if anyone fell over in a fight, I’d yell for help.”

“I believe you,” said Alexander. “And you give Eric an alibi too; they found Thwaite’s body downstream, partially consumed.”

Freddy shuddered.

“Don’t tell me any details, or I’ll throw up,” he said. “I can look back at my memories of the trenches now, but crocs just… it makes me squeamish.  I suppose you despise that,” he added defensively.

“Funnily enough, it gives me more respect for you as a man to be able to admit to your distaste,” said Alexander. “We all have things which disturb us. Your mother is terrified of spiders; Ida rescues them from the bath, but gets queasy at height.”

“It’s interesting in the abstract, but… shit, as I can clear Eric, he’d better help you; stand him in good stead at Hendon, wot?”

“Indeed,” agreed Alexander. “I just wanted a quick word with you informally before opening an investigation, because I know you can be rash.”

“I’m improving,” said Freddy.

“You are, and all credit to you,” said Alexander.

“He’s irritated the women most,” said Freddy, “But a woman couldn’t throw him overboard.”

“I dispute that,” said Alexander. “The rails aren’t that high; a woman with the presence of mind to bend, seize his legs below the knee and lift could scarcely avoid throwing him overboard, since his own weight would take him.”

“Look here! Violet wouldn’t do that!” said Freddy.

“I’m of the opinion that if he was thrown, and did not fall, it was accidental,” said Alexander. “Anyone who knew him might have pushed him, and made him lose his balance, and he wouldn’t even have to have gone over the rail; I checked the part which opens as a gate to the gangplank, and a heavy shove breaks it open. So even if Violet did push him, I’d log it as accidental without anything to suggest premeditation. He was a man the most temperate of persons would want to push.”

“Fine,” said Freddy. “Look here, will you let me ask her? I can get her to tell you if she did.”

“That seems like a good idea,” said Alexander. “I have been asked to look into it, and considering what a tick he was, as long as it was unpremeditated, I’m happy to hear anyone’s story.  I’ll have to announce that, I suppose.”

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Alexander, having had everyone called into the lounge. “As a senior officer with Scotland Yard, I have been asked to investigate the death of Captain James Thwaite. Now, I know he was an unpleasant little tick, so if anyone wants to come and tell me that they threw him overboard to cool him down, forgetting the crocodiles, or who pushed him so that he fell, I’m happy to close the case on death by misadventure during an altercation. But he did have a bruise, which will have to be explained.”

“I gave him that,” said Anne Grant. “But it was nowhere near the side of the boat. He had had a few too many and he tried to force his way into my cabin. I hit him with the empty sherry bottle I had in there and kicked him in the crotch and bundled him out. He was alive and shouting about having his way with me when I put on ear-muffs in bed to block him out.”

“Any idea what time that was?” asked Alexander.

“No idea,” said Anne. “After midnight, in any case.”

“It was about twenty to one when he departed,” said Ida. “I had got my pistol ready, and was going to go and help Anne, but she ejected him, and he did not try any other doors. Alma and I were most upset.”

“Anyone else hear it?” asked Alexander.

“I didn’t sleep a wink because of it,” sighed Imogen Worthington. “It was a terrible night!”

“Did you hear anything else, then, while you lay awake, after Thwaite finished shouting?” asked Alexander.

“Oh! No! but I pictured him sneaking around, and I had to wedge my door handle with a chair, and that meant I had to get up to let my maid in this morning and her creating a fuss, and such terrible nightmares!”

“So, you slept, but it was not restful sleep,” said Alexander.

“I did not sleep a wink!” said Mrs. Worthington.

“Forgive me, but if you did not sleep a wink, how did you have nightmares?” asked Alexander.

“Oh! Don’t be so impossible! They were waking nightmares in my imagination, of course,” said Mrs. Worthington.

“An unproductive doze,” murmured Alexander.

“She didn’t sleep,” said Lieutenant Pierce, sharply.

“You were in Mrs. Worthington’s cabin observing that she did not sleep?” asked Alexander.

“Of course not! How dare you insinuate such a thing?” cried Pierce, going red.

“You cannot, in that case, know that she did not sleep, as you did not personally observe it,” said Alexander. “And a nightmare occurs during sleep, even if the quality of the sleep is poor, and so disturbed as to feel as if it was no sleep at all. I understand that; I’ve had a similar experience when feverish.  But if Mrs. Worthington had, in fact, remained wakeful all night, she might have been expected to have heard the circumstances in which Captain Thwaite met his death, which would have been useful testimony.  Unless she killed him, in which case obfuscating about whether she was asleep or not might be a careful ploy to cover supposed sleepwalking.”

Mrs. Worthington gave a screech.

“I did not! I could not! I am not a well woman, why do you harass me?”

“I’m not; merely saying that your perceptions of not having slept are incorrect but that this is not uncommon, and therefore you cannot be of any help to me.”

“I may have dropped into a fitful doze,” said Mrs. Worthington, sulkily.

“Very well, that seems reasonable,” said Alexander.  “Anyone else hear the initial altercation?”

“All of us on the women’s side, I imagine,” said Violet Pettit.

“I certainly did,” said Penelope. “Nasty, lewd little man.”

“We both did from the married cabin,” said Christie. “We decided to ignore it. I mean, frankly, the man was suffering sexual frustration; and hardly surprising, considering his looks and personality. Positively Freudian! I threw a used French letter at him, and told him it was as close as he would ever get to sex.”

Alexander blinked at this frankness.

“I, er, see,” he said.  “You heard no more?”

“Certainly not; Douggie was ready for round three,” said Christie. “Perhaps he skidded on the French letter and fell overboard; I don’t really care.”

“I’m not sure that’s feasible or I might consider it as a theory,” said Alexander. “He’d have to skid a longish way and round a right-angle.”

“Oh, well, I don’t care that much,” said Christie. “Your Ida depicted him as Set the Destroyer and I don’t think she was far out.”

“I have to care what happened to him,” said Alexander. “My job is to protect everyone, even those I personally dislike.”

“He’s very good at it,” said Freddy. “We got off to a really bad start, but Armitage made sure I wasn’t set up to take the fall for killing my cousin. I endorse the right of the unlikeable to be protected; I’ve been there.”

“You’re not unlikeable, though, Fred,” said Violet.

“I was, Vi. I was a cad,” said Freddy. “As much as this little tick who reminds me too much of what I was becoming. It’s why I didn’t beat him up; I was sorry for him. I was going to talk to him about getting help, but it’s too late now.”

“Freddy, you’ve truly grown,” said Alexander. “Call me Alex.”

“Thanks, Alex,” said Freddy.

“And suppose he is lying and he did kill Thwaite?” asked Doug. “Playing devil’s advocate, you understand.”

“Freddy and Eric alibi each other, and Freddy prevaricates but I’ve never known him to outright lie. And protecting his lady falls into affray with mitigating circumstances, so I already established his innocence,” said Alexander. “You and your lady presumably form each other’s alibi.”

“We neither of us left the cabin, bar Christie throwing that thing out,” said Doug.

“I heard Mrs. Worthington jam her door, for what it’s worth,” said Penelope. “And how she cursed that poor child, Edna, when the poor girl could not get the door open in the morning. Quite a fish-wife is Mrs. Worthington when she thinks nobody can hear her – nobody she counts, anyway.” There was a touch of malice to Penelope’s tone.

“Oh! You are too unkind, and making it up,” sighed Mrs. Worthington. “I would never curse!  You misheard, and projected on my sudden panic the sort of thing you might say, no doubt,”

Penelope gave her a slow hand clap.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Lieutenant Michaels, pugnaciously.

“It means I applaud the acting skills of Mrs. Worthington,” said Penelope.  “I would not repeat in mixed company what she said, but if Mr. Armitage questioned me, I would endeavour to do my best to do so, and as he could ask Edna separately, he would have a record of it – if it were germane. I suspect it was not, but in my book, no lady talks to a servant like that. A gentleman may swear at or in front of a valet or butler who has long service and knows he doesn’t mean it, but that’s different.”

“Do I look like I come from the sort of background that has servant?” demanded Michaels.

“I don’t know; it’s hard to tell these days, but as an officer, I would hope you would be a gentleman and behave with proper decorum to underlings and servants. You are not permitted to swear at private soldiers; what would make you think it’s any different to behave in such a way to any underling?” said Penelope. “I did not grow up in a background that has servants, either, but my mother-in-law helped me to handle marrying up, because I asked her. She was kind to me.  And perhaps if Mrs. Worthington came from a lower background to her late husband, it’s time someone pointed out some things to her.”

“Oh! You are so unkind!” fluttered Mrs. Worthington.

“Hardly,” said Penelope. “I haven’t slapped your face. I heard you slap Edna, and she has a hand mark on her face.  And if Mr. Armitage does not need to know what you called her, so that I have to keep my distance, I shall be offering her a job with me.”

“I know what she said to the maid,” said Alexander. “My fiancée’s maid reported it to me, having cuddled Edna and put a cold compress on her face. Much harder, and I’d have arrested Mrs. Worthington for actual bodily harm. Go talk to Gladys, Mrs. Beauchamp, I told her to take care of the girl and keep her away from a mistress that intemperate.”

“You have no right!” cried Mrs. Worthington.

“I have every right to give advice to whomsoever I feel in need of it,” said Alexander. “Fortunately, Edna did not know the meanings of some words which would make a squaddie blench.  A young woman has the right to be defended from such words.”

“But I’m an invalid! I need a maid!”

“It doesn’t excuse language that bad purely for not being able to get in where you barred the door; it’s not as if you were in pain.”

“Pain! What do you know about pain?” scoffed Mrs. Worthington.

“What, you’ve had a knife cutting your belly open without anaesthetic, and the odd bullet taken out of you in the field? I never knew you had so much fortitude,” said Alexander.

“Ooooh, I am going to faint! Edna! My smelling salts!” Mrs. Worthington lolled in her chair.

“Now see what you’ve done!” said Pierce, angrily.

“Her colour hasn’t changed,” said Alexander. “Just get the wretched woman out of my sight; and unless either of you heard or saw anything in the night, you can get out with her.”

“We share a cabin,” said Michaels. “We can alibi each other.”

“Good. Hoppit,” said Alexander.

“I don’t think I can be of much more help,” said Penelope, apologetically. “I sleep very well.”

“Then by all means, run along,” said Alexander. “Go collect that little maid, and make sure she’s safe.”

Penelope sniggered.

“She’s safe. Campbell has moved into her berth, and she’s sharing rather snugly with Gladys. And what a nice, obliging girl she is!”

“Well, Campbell won’t take any nonsense, having Edna share with Gladys is interfering with his courting time,” said Alexander. “If that wretched woman manages to persuade either of those young fools to try to bully the girl, they won’t like getting a bit of home-brewed from him.”

“Or from Gladys,” sniggered Ida.

“I’d pay to watch that,” said Freddy.

“I wouldn’t hold back either,” said Violet. “I’m not sure that women who talk men into doing their dirty work for them aren’t worse than bullying men.”

“You don’t need a man to take care of you, Vi, but any man who stands beside you would be privileged,” said Freddy.

“You’ll have to be able to knock down my foreman when we get home; he’s protective of me,” said Violet.

“I’ll put up my best against him, if it’s what it takes,” said Freddy. “And at least you can tell him I don’t need your fortune.”

“Go away and bill and coo on your own time,” said Alexander. “Eric’s my assistant, and that leaves Mr. Langburne and Mr. Purvis, and the entertainers; I can’t seriously think he had much to do with the crew.”

“Stewards,” said Eric.

“Oh, good point,” said Alexander. “He is… was, I should say… the type to throw his weight around to stewards. We’ll talk to them separately.”

“I fancy I might have some relevant information,” said Miss Goldsworthy. “I do not find that I need as much sleep as I used to do when young, and I also like to sleep with the cabin windows open, for the air. I carry mosquito netting with me always, you understand, so I do not fear the night air and anything travelling on it.”