Page 13 of Murder on the SS Leviathan
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It was their third day at sea and, though the wind was a little brisk, the sun was bright, scorching off the early morning mist.
Cecile glanced towards Mr. Robinson’s door, half-hoping he might step out.
Lucrezia took Cecile’s arm, firmly steering her in the opposite direction. ‘Last night, you were giving too many calf eyes. Be careful,cara,or he’ll get the wrong idea.’
‘Cow eyes! Lucrezia, you do talk nonsense! Besides which, after my experience with your brother, I’ve no notion of tying myself to a man; even if he is rather…’ Cecile inwardly chided herself. Amusing as she was, Lucrezia was too fond of being provoking, and Cecile ought to know better than to take the bait.
‘Tying—no.’ Lucrezia grinned wickedly. ‘Only with velvet ribbons…’
‘Shhh! Someone will hear!’ Cecile guided her away from where several passengers were reclining in deck chairs, wrapped in furs and shawls against the chill. One lady, with her little poodle in her lap, regarded them haughtily.
‘Do not excite yourself,piccola. He is too dull to think of such things—but he appears virile and strong. He could be taught, I expect, how to please.’
‘You’re incorrigible!’ Cecile couldn’t help but smile. Innocent she might be, in the way her brother would define the term, but she understood more than he would ever guess, thanks to Lucrezia’s forthright confidences.
Cecile looked down to the lower deck of their portion of the ship. A surprising number of people were clustered directly below and there seemed to be rather a commotion.
‘Is something going on do you think? An entertainer? Or one of those organized games?’
Lucrezia craned her neck. ‘Too many serious faces,cara. Come, let us see for ourselves.’
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, it became apparent that something truly was amiss. One of the rooms had been roped off and a member of the crew was stationed at its door, urging passengers to move on. No one seemed inclined to do so, however, persisting in their questions—in at least three languages Cecile didn’t understand.
Lucrezia frowned. ‘It seems someone died in the night. They’ve already taken the body—carrying it this way rather than through the inner passageway, but the captain and doctor are still inside.’
‘Oh! How very sad. I’m sorry to hear it.’ Cecile suppressed a shudder, though it wasn’t so unusual, she supposed, for a voyage to see at least one person pass away in their sleep; especially when so many of the passengers were elderly.
‘My dears, isn’t it too awful!’ A trembling hand took hold of Cecile’s elbow. ’Our room is right next door you know, and to think we might have been able to do something.’ It was one of the Misses Arbuthnot who spoke.
‘Such an attractive young woman, with her whole life ahead of her!’ said the other Miss Arbuthnot. ‘Senhor Fonseca was a widow, you know, though with family in Rio. She was only telling us so last night—of how she was looking forward to returning there.’
‘Dead? Senhora Fonseca?’ Cecile looked from one sister to the other. They were confused, surely. The senhora was barely older than herself.
‘Yes, and under such circumstances! Such things do happen at sea, one hears, but we never would have dreamed—’ Taking a handkerchief from her pocket, the old lady dabbed at her eyes.
‘Now, Eliza, we promised we wouldn’t gossip.’ Her sister admonished gently.
‘You are quite right, and have perfectly the English manners,’ said Lucrezia approvingly. ‘But we women are strongest when we share our burdens.’
Her tone was confidential. ‘If you know something that would enable us to keep our wits sharp, I implore you to tell us, good ladies—and we shall keep all to ourselves, of course.’
‘Perhaps you ought to know.’ Letitia Arbuthnot gave a sigh and drew them back a little further from the crowd. ‘There were noises, you see.’
‘Very late at night,’ added Eliza. ‘And one does wonder…’
‘We don’t think she was alone.’ Glancing to either side, Letitia dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘An assignation! Passion taken too far, ending in tragedy.’
The other Miss Arbuthnot gave a sniff. ‘We do not sit in judgement, of course. These days are not those of our grandmothers, and where a woman is discreet…’
‘You think then, that her death was not natural?’ Despite the sun’s warmth on her back, a chill crept over Cecile.
‘No dear, and it’s what we’ve told the doctor. When he first arrived, we were able to step into the cabin for a moment and I saw right away—marks round the poor girl’s neck, and the covers all thrown off.’
‘That’s enough, Eliza. It serves no purpose to dwell on lurid details.’ Standing up a little straighter, her sister exchanged meaningful glances with both Cecile and Lucrezia. ‘Here comes his Lordship, and that nice Mr. Robinson.’
Cecile hardly had time to compose her features before the two men were beside them.
