The Moonlit Murders: A historical mystery page-turner (A Fen Churche Mystery Book 3) Fliss Chester (most read book in the world txt) đ
- Author: Fliss Chester
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âMade of sturdier stuff?â James raised an eyebrow at Fen, who gave him a disparaging shake of the head.
âItâs not like it gets any easier⊠finding dead bodies, I mean.â She paused, thinking of the recent murders she and James had investigated. âBut I guess I have toughened up a bit. And IâŠâ
âWhat is it? James asked.
âI met him. Here on board the ship and on the dock even before we left. I knew he was German.â
âYou didnât mention this to me?â James said, and Fen wondered if his feelings were a touch hurt.
âIâm sorry. I didnât really know what to do with the information. Rather inflammatory, donât you think, to have a German on board? Anyway,â she paused and looked up at him. âItâs not like I was the only one keeping a secret.â
âOuch. But I suppose I deserve it.â James swept a hand through his damp hair, pushing it away from his forehead, before ruffling it back into position again. âAny thoughts?â He slipped back into investigative mode while the captain and crew gestured for them to move away from what was now effectively a crime scene.
âAbout who did it? No, not yet. But somethingâs bothering me about his name, or lack of it.â
âWhat do you mean?â James looked a bit perplexed.
âI mean, I donât know what his name is, only that he was German. And in cabin thirteen, which is a few doors down from my own, so therefore itâs in second class and thereforeââ
âHe should be listed along with all of us in one of those leaflets we all got in our cabins,â James finished off Fenâs thought for her.
âExactly. And yet when I first realised he was German, I did a quick tally and then compared that to the floor plan at the back of the leaflet and there were exactly the right amount of names for the first- and second-class cabins. And none of them were German.â
âMeaning he gave, or was given, a false one for the purposes of the voyage?â James concluded.
âYes, but why bother? He barely concealed his accent from me when I bumped into him before we embarked, he even said âEntschuldigungâ as if it was the most normal thing in the world for a German chap and an English woman to be buying newspapers together on a French dock!â
James frowned and Fen wondered if he was still hurt by her omission, or if he was merely concentrating. Before she could ask, he spoke again. âSo, no name listed, or rather a phoney one, if you say the number of cabins tallies with namesâŠâ
âYes, even after more passengers came on at Southampton. And there was another odd thingâŠâ Fen thought she better tell James everything about the man, or everything sheâd seen and heard, at any rate. âIt wasnât only on the dock that I bumped into him. Later on, shortly before dinner that first night, I heard him shouting the same words over and over again. âIch bin foreignâ or something. Iâm afraid my German isnât terribly good, but I donât know why heâd be shouting âI am foreignâ.â
Fen paused to check that James was following her train of thought. His brow was furrowed in thought, so she assumed so. âAnd then he came out of his cabin, right into the corridor, where luckily I was the only person in sight. I mean, anyone could have heard that thick accent of his. And he said something about deserving to die in the sea. It was quite incomprehensible. And not just because he was German.â Fen sighed and pushed herself away from the cold metal wall sheâd been leaning against in the stairwell.
Crew members were strapping the body to a stretcher now, overseen by Bisset, and Fen wondered if he looked entirely shocked by the whole affair.
She lowered her voice to a whisper so she couldnât be overheard. âBisset was lurking outside cabin thirteen too that night and he told me that he himself had torn down the last swastika in Le Havre. He didnât say heâd kept it, butâŠâ She shrugged. âBut I do know what Arthur would have said in this situation.â
âIf you canât work out your two across, look at your five down.â James knew Fenâs mind liked to work as if she was solving a cryptic crossword, a technique her late fiancĂ© had taught her, and one that had served her well over the last couple of months.
âQuite,â Fen replied, smiling at the thought of Arthur, his round spectacles on and a copy of the Daily Telegraph crossword in his hand. âAnd at the moment I think my five down, in fact my only down clue, is going to be working out which name he was using.â
âAnd if while youâre at it, you could try to find out where anyone, murderer or not, would find a body-sized swastika flag and sort out the mystery of the missing jewels tooâŠâ James winked at her.
âYou never know, James, the Princeton tiara might be my five down instead⊠Iâll put my thinking cap on.â
âThinking tiara.â
âVery funny, come on.â
With that, the two of them followed the staircase down to the lower decks and Fen bid James goodbye before heading to her cabin for a much-needed hot wash and lie-down under a nice warm blanket.
23
An hour or two later, Fen met up with James again in the dining room. The reassuring noise of cutlery on crockery and the gentle hum of chatter belied the fact that somewhere on this ship was not only a jewel thief but also a murderer.
âI hate calling him âthe German Manâ as if he wasnât a real person,â Fen mentioned as they discussed the morningâs events. âIt feels a bit disrespectful.â
âI agree.â James loaded up his fork, but spoke before putting it in his mouth. âThough we may be the only two on board this ship who think like that. What shall we call
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