copper's cruise 21

 

 

Chapter 21 Internal Affairs

 

There were half a dozen other people flying to Marseilles with Alexander and his party, including Capitaine Maigret and his helpful constable, Lucas. They would go by airship, which was a more reliable way of crossing the Mediterranean than an aeroplane. And, reflected Alexander, considerably more comfortable.

“See that fellow there?” grunted Maigret, enjoying a pipe before they must embark. “That’s Paul Martin. I was convinced he was a part of the drugs ring, but when we searched him last night we found not a vestige of opium. He claimed he had come to taste the delights of exotic women, and he certainly had laid on a heap of the new American latex condoms to avoid disease.”

“He does not look well,” said Alexander. Martin was scratching himself, and looked as if he was about to faint.

“It must be a bout of malaria,” said another passenger, who overheard Alexander’s comment. “I will give him some quinine; I have some with me, I am a doctor.” He went over to speak to Martin, who snapped at him, but who then took a couple of tablets and drank them with some bottled water.

“And quinine can’t do any harm, anyway,” said Alexander.

The doctor was travelling with an assistant or servant, who went to sit in the steerage compartment with Lucas, Campbell, and Gladys, and the servants accompanying the grande dame and her listless but vapidly pretty daughter. The two young men who seemed to be travelling together without servants were enough to fill the ten seats of the first class compartment. One of them outflanked the grande dame as his companion jostled her, and managed to get himself into a seat beside the younger of the women, where there was a padded corner seat able to house several seated people. The grande dame huffed, and settled herself in a chair across a table from her daughter, perforce opposite Martin. Alexander was happy to shepherd his party further aft, nearer the curtain that divided off the servants and the tiny galley. The doctor had aided Martin to climb the mooring mast in order to embark.

“I confess, I am glad to be sitting down,” said Alexander. “My strength was sufficient to get here, but I’m glad it wasn’t any further.”

“Me, I am relieved that we shall have a warm cabin in this gondola, not the freezing cold of an aeroplane,” said Maigret. “We have cabins into which to withdraw, and I will be sharing a cabin with you, and your ladies in another. It will be a full day round to reach Marseilles, not as fast perhaps as an aeroplane, but infinitely more comfortable.”

“Indeed!” agreed Alexander. “You will not be able to smoke, though, for fear of the hydrogen.”

“No, but I will ‘dry smoke’ as you do on Basil Henderson’s pipe in his memory.”

“Now, fancy you remembering that,” said Alexander.

“I never forget anything about anyone I have met,” said Maigret. “Have you ever been by airship?”

“No, never, and it seems very comfortable; pleasant seats with little tables, and a good view out of the windows of the gondola,” said Alexander.  “I think Ida will be taking some aerial shots of the city with her camera as we depart.”

“This airship at least flies directly and will not be stopping off in Italy on the way, as some do,” said Maigret. “Italy should be in sight below us after the evening meal, and then, we wake up as it docks in Marseilles. Modern transport is marvellous, though I prefer the train where possible. It is often faster than an aeroplane, also.”

“I suspect that will change, with competition,” said Alexander. “Well, I have rested my legs, and have no desire to remain in a public area now, from the cessation of the banging, our luggage has been brought aboard, so I will go and sit quietly in our cabin.”

“They are like sleeper compartments in trains,” said Maigret. “One drops down an upper bunk for overnight; I will sleep above so you do not have to.”

“Good of you,” said Alexander. 

The cabins were very like train compartments which converted to be sleepers, and he wondered if the idea had been copied. It seemed sensible to use an idea which worked. Ida and Alma were next to them on one side; Campbell and Lucas on the other, which as Campbell was fluent enough in French was at least no hardship for Lucas. Gladys would be sharing with a maid travelling with the dowager and her daughter.  The other two maids were together. The doctor, it seemed, was happy to share with his man, the two young men had a compartment, and Martin was on his own.

Everyone dispersed by the time Egypt had become a smear on the skyline, except Martin, who seemed happy in a corner chair, sprawling over it as if he meant to sleep there.

 

 

Lunch time came, and Martin was still sprawled in his seat. The doctor bustled over to him.

“Leave me alone!” the voice was slurred, but positive. The doctor shrugged.

“He is not a well man,” he told the steward.

“He has been vomiting, sir,” said the steward. “I provided him with a bucket; he would not order a meal, and he will not let me put him to bed. I do not know quite what to do.”

“At least put up some kind of screen and open the window near him so the rest of us are not disturbed by the sight and smell of him,” said the dowager, sharply.

“Should we care for him?” asked Alexander.

“He is not my prisoner, and wants nothing to do with me,” said Maigret. “For once, it is not my affair. To have malaria and air sickness together is miserable, but I can tolerate his misery; he is one who, if he is not involved in one kind of criminality, is involved in another.”

A screen was rigged up by the crew, and Paul Martin left to his misery. One of the crew unlaced his shoes to put his feet up, providing him with a pillow, and a blanket. The gentle hum of the engines was enough to drown out some, at least, of the noises of his gastric misery.

“I still think he pulled a fast one on me,” grumbled Maigret. “We are short some of the opium, and I cannot otherwise account for it.”

“Never mind; just enjoy the trip,” said Alexander. “You dealt with most of it.”

 

One of the young men, since his friend was fixing his attentions with Mademoiselle Leda Lamarche, as the girl’s name turned out to be, turned his attentions to Ida.

“And is this your first time in an airship?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Ida. “You have put your hand on my arm. It will move, or my hatpin will draw blood.”

“What, surely you are not that unfriend…OW!”

“The lady said, get your hand off her,” said Alexander, as Ida stabbed the offending member.

“Nobody asked you,” said the young man, rudely.

“Alex, if he touches me again, please throw him overboard,” said Ida.

“Of course, my dear,” said Alexander, who had no intention of doing so, but knew when to sound dangerous.

 

Martin had not moved when dinner was served, but he seemed to have stopped vomiting and drifted into a fitful sleep.  He remained there as the passengers withdrew to their cabins for the night.

 

oOoOo

 

Alexander was wakened by a knocking on his cabin door.

“M. le detective! M. le detective!” said a voice.

“Entrez,” said Alexander, as Maigret grunted the same thing. They sat, fuddled with sleep in their pyjamas as the night steward came in, wringing his hands.

“Which one is M. le detective?” he asked.

“Both of us,” said Maigret. “What is it?”

“M. Martin! He… he had a seizure… and he is dead!” said the man.

“Dead! Are you sure?” asked Alexander.

“I was in the war, I know dead,” said the steward.

“Yes, of course,” said Alexander. “My apologies.”

“He has voided himself, and the ladies…”

“We’ll help you get him to his cabin and you can clean up as best you may,” said Maigret. “I will take the responsibility for moving him.”

“Shall I rouse the doctor?” asked the steward.

“All he had came from the doctor,” said Maigret. “I am wondering if he was to be silenced.”

“Once he is in his cabin, we will make a brief examination, and we will eat breakfast early with the crew, and search the doctor’s cabin, and others, whilst the other passengers are at breakfast,” suggested Alexander.

“Yes, I concur,” said Maigret.

 

They helped take the body through to his cabin.

“I smell opium on him,” said Alexander. “It’s a distinctive smell though the overwhelming stench is of how he soiled himself. His neck is not broken, which I did wonder, whether any had silenced him whilst he was unwell. I think we should get Campbell and Lucas up to join us for early breakfast, and lend their aid searching cabins. I cannot see any of the servants being involved unless the dowager is a part of it.”

“Stranger things have happened,” said Maigret. “The captain must keep all in the dining room.”

 

oOoOo

 

Lucas and Campbell seemed to get on well together, and ate an early breakfast with the stoic manner of men used to take what meals they might when they might, in silence as Maigret explained.

“So, whose cabins shall we be searching?” asked Lucas.

“All, bar Madame Alma and Mademoiselle Ida,” said Maigret. “Just to be certain. If he has been killed to stop him talking, or for disposing of the drugs, there may be some sign. Or maybe he passed them off to someone which is why I could not find anything.”

“Or maybe he has come up with some new and ingenious hiding place,” said Alexander. “Which seems unlikely, as you are very thorough, but we have to consider it.”

“Yes, any man can make a mistake,” said Maigret.

They returned to their cabins to await the departure of the other passengers, and Alexander caught Ida to explain.

“That’s why it whiffs rather,” said Ida. “I did wonder.”

“I opened the window in his cabin, but it is… pungent,” said Alexander.

 

oOoOo

 

An hour later, and the searchers knew that the dowager’s daughter took cocaine, the two young men smoked reefers, and the doctor had a pharmacopeia sufficient to murder an elephant, but all in legal drugs and of the kind any doctor might have.

“His own cabin is left to be searched and we will see if you did overlook anything,” said Alexander. “He must be very cunning.”

“I even looked in the lavatory tank,” said Maigret. “I could swear I caught a whiff of attar of roses in there, but nothing. There was broken glass a servant was sweeping up, and if it was the bottles containing opium disguised as perfume bottles, the damned servant was too efficient and got away before I could stop him. I checked every bottle the fellow had with him and sniffed his cologne, his aftershave, everything, but no opium.”

They opened the door of the dead man’s cabin, and Alexander took an involuntary step back.

“Maigret, we’ve already moved him, and broken protocol, and the stink is pervasive. So long as we preserve the clothing, perhaps the airline will let us have a slops bucket, we could strip and wash him – this is a health hazard. As we descend towards Marseilles, the flies will come thick and fast.”

“I will go ask for a slop bucket,” said Maigret.

 

Armed with a hotel-sized enamel slop bucket, the two began to strip Martin.

It was slow work, avoiding becoming contaminated by vomit or faeces, but they folded each piece of clothing meticulously to put in the bucket.

“Maigret, stop!” Alexander called. “What is that in his underwear?”

“A turd, most likely,” said Maigret. “No, parbleu! You are right, it is some foreign object.”

Alexander grimaced, and retrieved the object, taking it to the passenger toilet to wash off. He returned, somewhat cleansed, and took it back to Maigret.

“Now we know what he did with the latex condoms,” he said. “He put the oil of opium in them, tied them up like balloons, and swallowed them. This one has passed through, but I suspect one burst inside him. What we thought was malaria was opium poisoning. And he was not murdered, but essentially killed himself.”

“Death by misadventure,” said Maigret. “But as he is dead, alas, we cannot know to whom he was to deliver this haul.”

“Perhaps the answer will be in what tickets he has booked,” said Alexander.

“Yes; if he has no more, we might look for those who seek him in Marseilles,” said Maigret. “I am learning a lot from you.”

“I am not always conventional,” said Alex.  “I work a lot on the way men think, rather than strictly by the book. I am a bad example to you.”

“But no! this way seems reasonable,” said Maigret.

The tickets were interesting.

“You will have to wire to your superiors,” said Alexander. “If I am to complete this case where I have jurisdiction, at Croydon, then any ceremony must be very fast, and at the Gare du Nord.”

“I will tell them,” said Maigret. “How can they but admire such dedication!”

“And let the locals take care of his body and removing any other containers,” said Alexander.

 

Maigret went to make calls from the captain’s cabin, and Alexander locked up, and went to join Alma and Ida. On a moment’s impulse, he picked up a bright guide to the monuments near Cairo which was folded in Martin’s overcoat pocket, and slipped it into his own cabin on the way to the dining room. Martin was not the sort to keep guides to antiquities.

The dowager stared at him through her lourgnettes whilst her daughter fidgeted with a napkin, her leg jigging under the table. The old woman ignored her daughter and sneered at Alexander.

“So, have they let you out? I suppose it is a lack of evidence. I knew you were a criminal type when I first saw you.”

Alexander stared for a moment, and then threw back his head and laughed and laughed.

Maigret came out of the forward compartments, and stared.

“But what is the joke?” he asked.

Ida was giggling too much, and Alma managed to get her whoops under control.

“Madam there,” she indicated “Thinks she knew he was a criminal when she first saw him.”

“Ah, Madame, you will all dine out on this one day,” said Maigret. “Madame la baronne does not recognise the famous English aristocrat detective, perhaps?” he said to the dowager.

She flinched back as if slapped.

“My apologies,” she said, icily to Alexander.

“Oh, my thanks for a good laugh on a day with very little that is funny about it,” said Alexander. “We weren’t looking for your daugher’s… self-medication… but you should, perhaps be careful if you are going on to Croydon. The customs officials will not be so understanding.”

“Dorothy! Did you bring that filth with you?” snapped the woman, in English.

“Everyone does it, mater,” said the girl, trying to sound bored, but actually sounding petulant.

“Perhaps, mademoiselle, you would like to view the body of M. Paul Martin, who died because everyone does it,” said Alexander. “He died in agony, voiding himself, unromantic, ugly, and with his face twisted into a rictus of eternal agony because the overdose wracked him with terrible spasms, and his heart burst open in his death-throes. It’s a mug’s game, miss, in the more common vernacular.”

The vapid flapper looked shocked and scared.

“Throw it all away, mummy,” she said. “I don’t think I can. I… I want it now.”

“Ah, but you have the strength to get over it,” said Alexander.

“I was tricked into addiction,” said Ida. “It is so hard at social gatherings to refuse, is it not? But I took up painting to cope with it. And I am free.”

“I c-c-can do it,” said Dorothy.

“I’ll help you get started on the way home,” said Ida. “And your Mama will get you a nurse to be with you, one who will play chess or card games, or something else to keep your hands and your thoughts occupied.”

 

The airship had come in over the city, and was attached to the tower.  A number of gendarmes were waiting, but permitted the passengers to disembark first. Maigret stopped to talk to them.

Ida was helping Dorothy down the tower; having not been permitted back to the cabin to take a dose after breakfast, her withdrawal was evident.

“What’s wrong with her?” asked one of the gendarmes.

“She is overcome with sensibility having seen the nasty little man’s body,” said Ida, smoothly. “It has made her quite nauseous, and I assure you, when you go up to remove it, the stench will make you nauseous too, so do not put on a superior smile. When you fight not to vomit, I will be far away on the train, and I will spare a thought for you and your misery, and how the Calvados you drank last night sits like the bottom of a parrot cage, and your head pounds with crapulous misery because you chased it down with a rum toddy.”

The man stared at her in horror that she could recognise the signs of his queasiness.

 

The old baroness did not linger, and when they embarked on the train, she engaged a whole carriage for herself, her daughter, and Alexander’s party so that Ida could help.  It was a miserable journey for Dorothy, but by the time they reached Paris, she was through the worst.

“It’ll be a few more weeks,” said Ida. “Get through it a day at a time. Remember that every day is a victory, and that by summer, you will be able to wear lovely sleeveless frocks, because the tracks will be starting to fade. And you will have more energy to play tennis, and dance, and flirt. And if that unsuitable young man who tried to monopolise you was procuring it for you, he is not a friend.”

“Just a passing ship in the night; I did not know him,” said Dorothy.

They parted company, and Maigret hustled Alexander into an office where the impromptu ceremony to award him with a medal went without a hitch; and Alexander endured being kissed on each cheek.

Then, official cars took them to Le Bourget to embark upon the aircraft for Croydon