Chapter 7 death on the deep part 3
Lady Burleigh and Vera came into the office and sat down. The older woman managed to carry an air of dignity. Vera was visibly embarrassed.
“I am discreet enough unless anything I learn is germane to the case,” Alexander said. “And so is Ida.”
“We have nothing to hide,” said Lady Burleigh. “Whatever that fool woman said. Vera has had a nasty upset and it caused her sufficient distress that I felt a cruise would do her good.”
“I was jilted,” said Vera. “I am not with child any more than you are; Jimmy might have tried, but I never let him, and I was glad of that when my wealthy American cousin came to visit for the wedding. The wedding went ahead, but with a different bride. Jimmy fell in love with her daddy’s oil barrels.”
Alexander flicked a look at Lady Burleigh.
“I have to concur with Vera’s assessment,” sighed the matron. “I never liked Jimmy Ednie, but he was full of charm and it seemed as if I was the only person to dislike him. And Vera was so much in love. I was glad, in a way, that he betrayed her before the wedding, not after.”
“Me, too, in theory,” said Vera. “I had a mental breakdown... no, mother, he isn’t going to judge, he’s a policeman and I’m sure he has come across such things.”
“I don’t want him getting any wrong ideas about it making you violent!” snapped Lady Burleigh.
“Why should it?” said Alexander. “Oh, I can imagine any girl who is essentially left at the altar by a rat grabbing up anything to hand, and belabouring him with it, but a mental breakdown is just that; in the same way as succumbing to a nasty chill after being exposed to the elements is a physical breakdown. And nobody makes comments about people with a chill being likely to be violent.”
Lady Burleigh visibly relaxed.
“People say such foolish things,” she said.
“There are a lot of half baked ideas about mental health,” said Ida. “People half understand half of what they half listen to, and are afraid of mental health issues because they can happen to anyone, if pushed hard enough. It doesn’t help that some fool authors use the person with mental health problems as the obvious baddie to replace the nineteenth century’s vampire and werewolf as we are more, supposedly, sophisticated these days. Only we aren’t, and they want a scientific reason for Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Frankenstein’s monster, and the vampire. Part of this is fulfilled with mechanical men, in modern science fiction, but also there’s a lot of trash based so loosely on Freud that the places it falls off should be obvious, but too many people are very credulous. Uhm, sorry, stepping off soap box.”
“You are very passionate about it,” said Vera.
“An evil woman conspired to addict me to opium, to get control of my older brother’s household without an inquisitive teenager asking awkward questions, and it left me in the throes of a mental breakdown when my brother, Basil, helped me to go through withdrawal, and find myself again. She was trying to keep me mentally ill after having murdered both Basil and my sister-in-law; and I’d be dead at her hands, supposedly of suicide, had not Alex stepped in to investigate,” Ida explained.
“Then we both know something of it,” said Vera. “Jimmy introduced me to drugs, and I am fighting my way out of it.”
“You need something to keep your hands busy and your mind busy enough,” said Ida. “Painting, embroidery, crochet, or whatever.”
“I crochet,” said Vera. “Very fine, intricate cotton lace.”
“Nice,” said Ida. “Perhaps we can exchange patterns.”
“First, we need to answer Inspector Armitage’s questions,” said Lady Burleigh.
“Essentially, you have,” said Alexander. “Thank you both for being open and frank with me. I wanted to know if the wretched woman had made any guesses which were close enough to the mark to make her hurtful comments more painful, and thus given you reason to kill her.”
“People of our class don’t do things like that,” said Lady Burleigh.
“People of our class who are mothers still behave like mothers and kill to protect their offspring,” said Alexander.
Lady Burleigh gave him a long, hard look.
“I suppose you are correct,” she said. “I could find it in me to kill to protect Vera. The victim would be, however, Jimmy. One cannot blame my niece, who had no intention of snaring him, and, I fear, will repent at leisure, but she is not my responsibility. I dropped her a word to the wise, with regards to Jimmy’s fickle heart, but she was not listening.”
“One can do no more,” agreed Alexander. “Please send in Mr. Cobham – he is Mr. not Dr., isn’t he? And his nephew.”
“I’m not sure if we can help you,” said Leonard Cobham. “I yelled at the silly creature for miscalling my sister, but to be honest, I’d have taken her to court.”
“My uncle is well known for being litigious,” sniggered Geoffrey Paul. “I am honoured to be a relative of his, but I’m indifferent about whether people think I’m his nephew or his son, it’s an easy mistake, and only insulting when she made up illegitimacy for me.”
“I get irritated about those who get my name wrong, but her comments about us being Jewish says more about her than about us,” said Cobham. “I get on fine with Jews, Arabs, and anyone else, everyone has their racial flaws as well as strengths, and I don’t talk about them to anyone but co-workers to make the work environment more harmonious. I roar at my workers and they call me the Lion of the Sands, which suits me fine.”
Having dismisses the antiquarians, Alexander was delighted when Gladys brought in tea and biscuits.
“I thought you’d as soon take refreshments without an Atmosphere, sir, madam,” she said. “Mrs. Barrett has gone to lie down, and Andrew... Mr. Campbell, I should say, is serving tea and cakes, dressed as a steward, and keeping his ears open.”
“Oh, well done, both of you,” said Alexander. “So, as they are waiting to see me, do you think you can manage to search the quarters of the married couples, looking at the intimate apparel of the ladies?”
“Sir! Whatever do you expect me to find?” asked Gladys.
“It’s more what I hope you will tell me you do not find,” said Alexander. “Do either of the couples have servants?”
“The Ambersides have a man and a rather silly girl, but the Chatterleys have no servants.”
“If you are caught, for goodness sake, say it was on our orders,” said Ida.
“I won’t be caught,” said Gladys, skipping out.
“They will surely have some sundries, as... well, camouflage?” said Ida. “For customs’ inspections.”
“Yes, but probably still wrapped up. And some sundries will be missing because they won’t think of it.”
“A pregnant woman would not need some of the sundries,” said Ida.
“And wouldn’t you carry something, in case of miscarriage?” said Alexander.
“I would, but I don’t say some women might be more optimistic and careless,” said Ida.
“And might she not carry some proprietary medicine for nausea?”
“On a sea cruise, it might be sensible. But it’s not conclusive.”
“No, it isn’t. But I’ll be interested to see what there is. And what there isn’t.”
“Will we speak to the stewards next, whilst the passengers enjoy tea and biscuits?” suggested Ida.
“Yes, and let them think it’s for their comfort, and lull them into a sense of security,” said Alexander. He put his head out of the cabin to ask for the stewards.
“I’ll take all at once,” he said. “Then you can get away to your cuppas.”
“I’m not sure any of us can help you, sir,” said the steward. “All of us share cabins, my juniors with each other, me with the doctor.”
“I doubt any of you have anything to do with it; you’re used to idiot passengers,” said Alexander. “For form’s sake, however, did Mrs. Mainwaring say anything to any of you which caused distress?”
“Other than calling us lazy if we couldn’t shift like athletes,” said one of them. “She did not talk to us, we being menials, only at us.”
His superior, and the other under steward murmured assent.
“But that’s not abnormal for some clients,” said the steward. “One takes it in one’s stride; we have the advantage that she would never engage in conversation with us. She irritated the captain, and he told me that if her name came up to dine at his table, no it hadn’t. But he could isolate himself from her in all other respects.”
“Very good; I think I have everything,” said Alexander.
Gladys came up before he could call for anyone else.
“You’ll never guess what I found,” she said. She spoke rapidly, and Alexander nodded as he listened.
“What was used to stuff the brassieres?” asked Alexander.
“Oatmeal,” said Gladys. “I investigated, and then sewed it up tight again. And men’s doo-dahs for keeping things tight.”
“Jock-straps,” said Alexander. “And maybe a cricketing box to avoid reaction if caught in the region?”
“Something like,” said Gladys. “But they ain’t a couple, sir, they have separate beds, and I grilled the room service and they reckon they’re a marriage of convenience because no stains. Either that, or the lady is with child, and has banned him her bed for some reason.”
“Well, that is interesting,” said Alexander.
He saw the Ambersides, David and Paula, next.
“I understand that a honeymoon is not an easy time to have to put up with a gadfly like the Mainwaring woman,” said Alexander. “And she questioned your wisdom in playing tennis, Mrs. Amberside.”
Paula flushed.
“She practically accused me of trying to force a miscarriage because I wasn’t a proper wife,” she snapped. “Well, I consulted with the doctor here and he said tennis would not cause any problems when trying to conceive, nor make me lose a baby. We came on this cruise because I miscarried. It was quite late, and I wanted to get fit again to be ready to give birth.”
“The Hebrew women were quick,” said Ida. “Yes, it is very wise.”
“If she’d been a man, I’d have floored her,” said David. “But what can one do?”
“No, quite,” said Alexander. “Not tempted to kill her?”
“Thoroughly tempted,” said David. “But I resisted the temptation to throw her overboard.”
“Miss Henderson is not the first person to slap her, I did so too,” said Paula. “And she said that I had to be forgiven since I was plainly in an interesting condition, which is old folk’s way of saying ‘pregnant,’ but I had evidence that I had not conceived.”
“It’s another reason to cause upset to the system; I have a sufficiency of sisters to be aware that some weeks, one walks like Agag,” said Alexander, cheerfully. “I’m told that not worrying about nature until it takes its course is best, but I have to say, I’m glad to be a man.”
Paula managed a laugh.
“Oh, to each their own,” she said.
“It must be nice to have another young couple as active as you on board,” said Ida.
“Oh... well, it is handy to make up mixed doubles,” said Paula. “But I can’t say I like Beatrice very much.”
“Oh?” said Alexander.
Paula wriggled her shoulders, unhappily.
“I can’t put my finger on it,” she said. “It’s not that she’s hearty; we’ve all known the jolly hockeysticks type of girl at school, but... well, I didn’t feel that she entered into my feelings at all; as if the idea of wanting a baby and missing the feeling of my baby inside was... somehow alien to her. She said, ‘Oh, well, you can always have another,’ which is just so insensitive.”
“Oh, that is unkind,” said Ida.
“Even I understand that, and I’m only a man,” said Alexander.
“David understood,” said Paula.
Her husband’s smile said that he did not understand, but that he understood that it meant a great deal to her, and that he would say what she wanted.
“Well, I don’t think I have any other questions,” said Alexander. “Don’t leave the boat in a hurry.” He winked.
David laughed.
“Don’t leave the boat in a hurry – oh, that’s funny,” he said. “What an unpleasant business! Are we allowed to swim?”
“Yes, if the pool has been opened up again,” said Alexander.
“Oh hell! Was the poor old thing drowned?” David looked sick.
“No, she was put in the pool to look as if she drowned, but she was already dead,” said Alexander.
“I see; nobody is telling us anything.”
“On my orders,” said Alexander. “Send in the Chatterleys, please.”
The Chatterleys might be described as a handsome couple, Cyril being dark, and Beatrice blonde, with longer hair than was fashionable, hanging around her face, held back somewhat with an Alice-band. Alexander thought it was bottle blonde.
“They say the poor old woman drowned herself,” said Cyril.
“Very nasty,” said Beatrice, swallowing, her Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Oh? Which ‘they’ do you mean? I issued orders not to have her means of death talked about,” said Alexander. “It’s not true, anyway. She had her neck broken and was dumped in the pool. And the only people who have anything to fear from her comments were a supposed couple where the wife is actually a young man, whose supposed devotion to the supposed husband was overdone sufficiently to recall a story ill-recalled to the said Mrs. Mainwaring, who cited the slavish devotion of Ganymede without any concept that ‘Ganymede’ is a term used for the junior partner of an all male relationship in the forbidden love. This frightened you into thinking that she supposed an intimate relationship between you, and you were afraid of being revealed as two men.”
“This is preposterous!” declared Cyril.
“Killing a foolish old woman who had no idea what her comments about ‘Ganymede’ meant was preposterous,” said Alexander. “Now, if you had been intimate, I’d have thought there was some small excuse for you, but the maids who work under the stewards know that you are not intimate at all, as there have been no stains of any kind on the sheets. The servants always know. You don’t have a sufficiency of lacy smalls for a woman to be wearing, and they don’t go to the laundry. You have no cloths for monthly essentials, and you are staring at me with incomprehension. I suspect you of having stolen the passports of a genuine couple, though why I don’t know.”
“What...what nonsense are you talking?” quavered Beatrice.
“Well, if you are prepared for my fiancée to watch you strip, and prove you are a woman...” said Alexander.
Cyril made a lunge and grabbed Ida.
“Your fiancée will be spending the rest of the cruise until we disembark in our cabin, and whether she survives the experience will be down to your behaviour,” he said. “And unless you make it look good, we’ll both use her as well, to fix that problem of stains.”
He had an arm around Ida’s neck.
Ida grabbed his little finger and wrenched it backwards and broke it. Cyril screamed, and Alex threw a heavy paperweight at the man known as ‘Beatrice’ to discourage him from joining in. Ida dropped and threw herself into a forward roll, which forced Cyril to let go, or be pulled over. He was off-balance however, and Alexander seized a flailing arm, and snapped a handcuff to it, connecting the other hand to the handle of a drawer of the steward’s desk, thankful that they were open handles, not knobs.
Campbell came and confronted ‘Beatrice’ who had pulled a knife.
“Gawd!” said Campbell, making short work of disarming, disabling, and cuffing ‘Beatrice,’ who was swearing like a trooper. “Boss, we had a telegraph about a Norman and Edgar Breesham, they’re brothers, murderers and thieves, reckon these are them?”
“From the look on ‘Cyril’s’ face, I’d say so,” said Alexander. “Thanks for the timely help.”
A couple of hefty sailors removed the Breesham brothers to the brig.
“And to think, they might have got away with it, if they hadn’t killed Mrs. Mainwaring,” said Ida.
“Well, she has avenged the killing of what the report says they believe to be eighteen other elderly widows or old maids, living on the Riviera, who were flattered by one or other of a pair of handsome young men, until they took them home, where they were killed, and their homes searched at the leisure of these nasty pieces of work; and by the same method Mrs. Mainwaring was killed,” said Alexander. “And to think I was supposed to be avoiding police work!” He gave a thin smile. “They’ll be sent back to France to answer for their crimes, where they will both be married – married to the widow, as is the French idiom for the guillotine.”
