It's Murder, On a Galapagos Cruise: An Amateur Female Sleuth Historical Cozy Mystery (Miss Riddell C P.C. James (best color ebook reader .TXT) 📖

once again to take part in this honestly. If there is a threat to others on board, it’s best we know sooner rather than later. You may have heard of ‘Mystery Nights’ or ‘Mystery Cruises’ where the guests take part in a murder mystery performance. Try to think of it in that light, and I hope that’s how it will be seen at the end of the investigation but please keep in mind, in this case, it isn’t just a parlor game. Please help Detectives Somerville and Riddell as much as you can.”

As he finished speaking, the Cruise Director arrived with a folder of revised itineraries and the conversation immediately switched to that and the changes. Captain Ferguson left quietly, leaving the Director to explain the new route.

As they left the lounge, making their way out onto the deck to enjoy the night air and stars, Pauline heard herself being called. She looked about and saw Detective Somerville on a higher deck signaling her to join him.

“You stay here with the others and enjoy the drinks and snacks, Freddie. I’ll go and see what he wants and see you back at the cabins.”

She climbed the steps up to the deck where Somerville was waiting. She’d vowed to herself she would always use the stairs and not the elevators or she’d be pounds heavier by the time the cruise was over. Sometimes, she wished she wasn’t quite so diligent in carrying out her vows.

“What is it,” Pauline said, puffing a little and embarrassed because of it, “that couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“I wanted to ask you about finding the body,” Somerville said to Pauline, ushering her into the Purser’s office and to a chair.

“Really,” Pauline said bluntly. Her opinion of the man was low from the moment they’d met at dinner the night before and it sank even lower by his commanding her to this meeting; it had been uncourteously done. She thought his appearance also didn’t inspire confidence. He was poorly groomed, badly and inappropriately dressed in a Hawaiian shirt of gaudy flowers and parrots, and seemingly unable to understand how unprofessional all that looked.

“I wanted to ask you to tell me everything that happened before, during and after you discovered the body, up until the time the security officer and doctor arrived,” Somerville said. “We didn’t really talk when the captain brought us together.”

“I’ve already provided a written a statement on this to the captain and the police,” Pauline replied, “have you not seen it?”

“The captain shared it with me, but I’d rather hear it from you and explore your memory for more details if you don’t mind.”

“Very well,” Pauline said. She hadn’t believed it possible but she was beginning to like him even less. Did he really think she hadn’t already done this?

She began recounting the events of the previous evening, from the moment she and Freda decided they would return to their cabins. Somerville listened quietly until she reached the point where she’d discovered the body.

“Did you call for help immediately after you found the body?”

“Not immediately,” Pauline said coldly, “as I said in my statement. I wasn’t sure of the man’s condition. I checked his pulse at his wrist and then at his neck. That’s when I found blood on my fingers and I discovered he’d been stabbed under his chin.”

“And you heard and saw no one?”

“That’s correct,” Pauline replied, “From the moment I saw it was a body and not a pile of clothes, I was very alert for sounds and the sight of anyone else. I’m not without experience in these matters.”

“I’m sure you’ve thought about this, so I won’t beat about the bush,” Somerville said, “From a detection point of view those who last saw the victim or are first on the scene are likely to be involved in some way with the crime. To be clear, I’m not accusing you of anything, but you must see that one explanation is that you did it.”

Pauline frowned. She had expected this line of enquiry, which is why she’d taken such trouble over her written statement.

“Well then, let me assure you I didn’t,” she said.

“Of course not,” Somerville said, “but your explanation of how the victim got there would work if you’d caused him to fall and then come down to confirm he was dead.”

“That’s true,” Pauline said, “though I should point out how slowly Freda and I would have come down two decks of steps. It would have been a crazy thing to do. Anyone could have heard him fall, come out to see what happened and would see us coming down the stairs.”

“I think you would feel safe enough doing that, wouldn’t you, Miss Riddell? Who would imagine two elderly ladies being capable of throwing a young man over a rail? I think you would just say you heard a noise and saw the body and were coming down to provide help. After all, Mrs. Holman is a trained nurse. And I understand how you might feel you’re innocent, after all, as I see it, it wouldn’t be murder, just self-defense.”

Pauline was taken aback. This was very direct. “I can only repeat,” she replied. “This man’s death has nothing to do with me. I am interested in hearing your theory though.”

“Okay, here’s how I see it happening,” Somerville said. “You were out for your after-dinner stroll, as you said, when the victim, who was passing and was perhaps overcome by his feelings, grabbed one of you, perhaps not realizing there were two of you. You, or Mrs. Holman, took something from your purse, scissors or a nail file maybe, and you stabbed him. You didn’t mean to kill him, just fend him off, but he stepped back at that low place on the rail. He lost his balance and fell. Looking over the rail, you realized you may not have killed him and you hurried down to give him aid, perhaps. When you discovered he was dead and nobody had seen or heard anything,