Ransom at Sea (16 page)

“But there are other people on board,” Ransom said after a beat.

“What?”

“Besides the passengers…”

“What are you saying?” Samantha demanded as she came up behind her husband and laid her hands on his shoulders.

Farraday reached up and placed his hand on his wife's, never taking his eyes off Ransom. “Wait, Sam. Detective Ransom is just doing his job. Thoroughly. Yes, you're right, there are also three crew members.”

“And yourself.”

The captain smiled. “And myself, and my wife.”

“Now, getting back to my original question: Did you notice anything out of the ordinary going on between any of the people on board and Marcella Hemsley?”

“Sam would probably be the best one to answer that—I've spent most of my time in here.” He looked over his shoulder at his wife, who hesitated before answering.

“Well … I don't know any of them, so it's hard to say what would be out of the ordinary. They seemed to form little groups, but I assume that's because they were friends … or at least knew each other before.”

“What were the groups?”

“Um … as far as Miss Hemsley goes, she spent most of her time with Miss Charters and her companion, and of course, her niece. The three men—Mr. Brock, Mr. Driscoll, and Mr. Holmes—stayed together for the most part.…”

So she doesn't know that Holmes had a tendency to break off from the rest,
thought Ransom.

“Which I guess stands to reason. Uh … the Millers keep to themselves, mostly.” Here she stopped and smiled. “They're that kind of couple. And Miss Trenton, she keeps to herself, too, when she can.”

“What about Muriel Langstrom?” Ransom asked.

Samantha rolled her eyes. “Oh, God! The chatterbox! She's latched on to Miss DuPree, who I don't think has the spine to resist her.”

“And how did they all relate to Marcella Hemsley?”

She sighed. “I didn't see them pay much attention to her at all. She was … she wasn't the easiest woman to deal with. I think there was something wrong with her—with her head, I mean.”

“What makes you think that?”

“She was … I guess you'd call it cranky. I didn't have much time to notice her, myself—there's a lot to do on a trip like this, you know—but she reminded me of how my grandmother was late in her life: always irritable. We found out later she was hard of hearing, and was acting that way because she couldn't really keep track of what was going on around her.”

“But you said you thought there was something wrong with Miss Hemsley's head. I took that to mean a mental problem.”

“Well, yes,” Samantha assented reluctantly. “Mainly because of that incident the other night. Honestly! Screaming like that in the middle of the night, she almost scared the life out of me and everyone else on the boat! And for nothing!”

“For nothing?” Ransom looked at the captain. “So you didn't look into it?”

Farraday looked blank for a moment, then shook his head. “No, there wasn't really anything to look into.”

“Didn't she accuse your head steward—David Douglas, I think his name is—of having been the one in her room?”

“Yes, but David came out of his room after we did. There was no reason to think he actually did anything. Hell, there was no reason to believe she saw anything in the first place.”

“Except that she said she did.”

The captain leaned forward a fraction of an inch. “Detective, David followed us into the corridor. When Miss Hemsley accused him, he denied it.”

“Naturally.”

“The point is, what would be the good of asking him if he really had been in there? I don't believe that there was ever anyone there: she was either dreaming or imagining things. If I'd questioned him, which I think would've been totally unnecessary, he would've denied it again and then felt he wasn't trusted. I wasn't going to do that for nothing.”

“So … Douglas has worked for you before? You're sure of his honesty?”

Farraday sat back. “No, as a matter of fact, he signed on just before this trip. We scheduled this at the last minute, and needed to get somebody fast.”

“What's his background?”

“He has had a lot of jobs, various kinds. He's been a waiter, a bartender, he's even worked in a nursing home. So we thought he'd be good.”

“Hmm,” Ransom said with a half smile. “Sounds like he was everything you were looking for.”

“Yes…”

“That was very convenient. However, someone who's had a lot of jobs doesn't sound all that promising as an employee.”

Farraday smiled, which deepened the crow's feet around his incisive eyes. “It's a temporary job. A summer job.”

“Did you check his background?”

“You can't seriously think he had anything to do with this!” Samantha interjected. “Why would he kill Marcella Hemsley?”

Ransom produced an unreadable smile. “As your husband said, I'm just being thorough.”

“In answer to your question,” the captain said, “no, we didn't check his references. We didn't have a lot of answers to our ad, so there wasn't a lot of people to choose from. But I met with him. Interviewed him. He seemed all right. A bit of a glad-hand, maybe, but that can be an asset in this type of job.”

“I see. And the rest of the crew?”

“Hoke—Joaquin Vasquez—he's the other steward. He was with us last summer.”

“He's a very nice and sweet-tempered young man,” said Samantha. “Very eager to please.”

“The only other crew member is Mrs. O'Malley, our cook,” said the captain. “She's been with us since the beginning, and I'd vouch for her all the way.”

“Um-hmm. Well, what can you tell me about the relationship between Miss Bremmer and her aunt?”

“She ran the poor girl into the ground,” Samantha said with feeling. “Rebecca walked on eggshells around her, trying to keep her happy despite … the way she was … and running interference for her with everyone else.”

There was a pause, then Ransom said, “You seem to have observed a lot more than you thought you did.”

Samantha's face flushed a deep crimson. “You only had to look at the poor girl to see how exhausted she was. I wouldn't blame her if—” She broke off, and though it didn't seem possible her face grew even more red.

“If she'd killed her?” Ransom said.

“Everybody has a breaking point. Even with people they love.”

“That was obvious as well?”

“That she loved her aunt? Yes.”

The detective unexpectedly rose from his seat. “Well, I think I have all the background I need for now.” He swung the chair back into its position in the corner. “Thank you for your help. I'll be talking to the passengers and crew—”

“Mr. Ransom,” Farraday said, rising from his chair, “Detective … please keep in mind that the passengers have already been very upset by this business. I'd appreciate it if you'd be … circumspect in the way you talk to them. I don't want them to be more upset than they already are.”

“So far the people I've talked to agree that Rebecca Bremmer adored her aunt, despite her aunt's problems. It's probably already entered at least some of their minds to doubt whether or not she is guilty. And if that's true, I would think they'd feel much safer if they were
sure
they were not traveling with a murderer.”

“I guess that's so,” said the captain, “but still—”

Ransom stopped him with a wide smile. “I'll be a gentle as a lamb.” He started for the starboard door, but before opening it stopped and turned around. “Oh, one other thing: the two of you, I understand, went for a walk of your own while the passengers were on their hikes.”

The captain's visage hardened to granite. “Yes?”

“Did you leave the boat just after the passengers?”

“Why do you ask?”

Ransom contrived to look perplexed by his reaction. “Because if you stayed onboard for a while, you might've seen someone come back, and even if not it would help narrow down the window of opportunity the murderer had to kill Miss Hemsley.”

Much to Ransom's surprise, the captain reddened slightly. “Oh. Well, actually, I'm not sure I remember.…” He looked to his wife.

Samantha ran a hand through her long dark hair. “It was a around ten-thirty when we left, I think. I checked my watch because we had to be back to do the lunch.”

“And nobody came back to the boat while we were here,” said the captain. “At least, if they did we didn't see them.”

“Good enough,” Ransom said genially as he opened the door.

While Ransom had been questioning the captain and his wife, Emily was having a much more relaxed conversation on the deck. After Ransom left her, she wandered over to Lily DuPree in a tentative manner meant to disguise any trace of design. She sighed heavily as she sat on a chair beside the frail old woman.

Before Emily could begin the conversation, Lily roused herself. “Who was that handsome young man you came on board with?” Her tone betrayed a prurient interest.

“He is a police detective from Chicago with whom I'm acquainted.” She had chosen to downplay their relationship for fear of arousing even more of her elderly friend's interest. “He was kind enough to give me a ride back to the boat from the sheriff's station.”

“It's terrible, isn't it? Just terrible!” Lily said, obviously eager for another opportunity to discuss the tragedy. “To think that something like this could happen on our little trip.” The avid light in her normally dull gray eyes belied the idea that she felt any grief over the event.

“Yes, it is. Of course, Marcella was quite old, and not in perfect health, but that seems to me all the more reason to be allowed to enjoy every day you're given, rather than having your life snuffed out prematurely.”

“Well … Well, I don't know about that,” Lily replied, some of the light dimming as her tentative manner returned. “I don't like to think it, but … well, I've seen a lot of people go the way Marcella was going, and I'm sure she would've ended up in a nursing home … and I think … well, I've often thought that I'd rather die than end up in one of those places.”

Emily looked at her with an appraising eye.
Yes,
she thought,
so many people say that, but when it actually comes time would you give up even an hour of your life?

“It's terrible to say it, I suppose,” Lily continued, “but her niece probably did her a favor.”

Emily leaned in closed to her and whispered confidentially. “From what I heard at the station, they're not completely sure it was Rebecca who did it.”

“Really?”

Emily could almost hear the other woman's heart flutter with excitement. She nodded. “No, they're not completely sure.”

Lily tried to lean in closer herself, but the slight hunch to her back made it something of a struggle. She was finally able to do it by tightly gripping the arm of her chair. “The sheriff questioned me, you know. Because I stayed here in the boat. He wanted to know if I'd seen or heard anything.”

“Really?” Emily said with zestful interest. “And did you?”

Lily's brow twisted with disappointment. “No … no, I was so tired, you see—that dreadful to-do the night before! It was hours before I was able to get back to sleep, so I was very tired when I was lying up here. I'm afraid I fell asleep. Just lightly, mind you. I do think I heard footsteps coming and going, but…” The effort to keep herself pulled forward became too much, and she lowered herself back against the chair.

“It seems so odd that nobody stayed on the boat,” Emily said. “The crew, I mean. You would think someone besides Mrs. O'Malley would stay to mind the store, so to speak.”

“Yes, I agree.” The corners of her mouth turned down in a slight frown that didn't go unnoticed by Emily.

“Did you see them leave, by chance?”

“Yes, I was still awake then.… I imagine the captain and his wife have to get off the boat now and then and stretch their legs. They're very attentive, don't you think?”

“Yes?” Emily replied, hoping to prompt her to continue.

Lily pursed her lips in a disapproving manner. “But I shouldn't have been surprised when that steward left … when the cat's away, as they say.”

“You mean David?”

“Who? Oh, no, no, the little one—the dark one.”

“Ah. Joaquin.”

“Yes. Then the other one left as well. David.” She paused and smiled. “His mother must be very proud of him.”

“Why do you sat that?” Emily asked, completely mystified.

“He has such nice posture, doesn't he?”

Emily cleared her throat. “I hadn't noticed.”

“Anyway, I just didn't think that was quite right. It seemed like somebody should be on the boat, just as you say. I mean, after all, our things are here! Just anyone could come on and do anything!”

“Yes, they could,” Emily said thoughtfully. “Lily, you were sitting just where you are now, facing the water with your back to the deck. Did you actually see these people leave?”

“Oh, yes! You know how it is—I heard footsteps and glanced over my shoulder.”

“But you didn't see anyone later—Rebecca or Marcella?”

She shook her head slightly. “No. After that … Joaquin left, that was when I really started to doze. Isn't it funny? I stayed behind and ended up being right where the action was, even if I was asleep.”

“Yes, it is.”

Muriel Langstrom chose that moment to emit a louder snort than usual. Lily started to look back over her shoulder but winced slightly and checked herself. She then leaned closer to Emily. “You know, I do feel sorry for Muriel. I think it really was too bad of Mr. Driscoll and Mr. Brock to do what they did. And as difficult as her life has been.”