Queen of Hearts (Royal Spyness Mysteries) (8 page)

He put an arm around my shoulders. “So—you were having fun at a ball without me, were you?”

“If you really want to know it was awful. Mummy chose a black cat costume for me that made me look like a black drainpipe with whiskers, Cy Goldman kept trying to force cocktails down me and an awful chap called Algie Broxley-Foggett was dressed as a knight in fake armor and insisted on dancing with me, knocking over everyone in the process. So no, I was not exactly having fun.”

Darcy grinned. “Broxley-Foggett? He was at school with me. Scrawny little chap when I was in the sixth form. Absolutely clueless sort of fellow. I believe he set the dorm on fire once, trying to practice smoking.”

“Yes, that would be Algie. He also set the curtains on fire when I was at a hunt ball with him once. He’s being sent out to America to make a man of him.”

“Lucky America,” Darcy said. “He’ll probably bring about another Wall Street crash.” He stopped talking and gazed at me, smiling. “It is so good to be here with you, if only for a few moments. What are you going to be doing in America? I had no idea. I thought you were still at Kingsdowne when last I heard.”

“I’m traveling with my mother. This is strictly hush-hush, but she’s trying to get a divorce and now it appears she’s going to be making a film with Cy Goldman and Stella Brightwell.”

“Is she, by George? So she sees herself as a film star now. What happened to the German?”

“He wants to marry her, and I don’t know how he’ll feel about his future wife on the sliver screen. But I don’t think she could resist the chance to be famous and adored again. Mummy does love being adored.”

“Don’t we all.” He took my face in his hands, drew me toward him and kissed me. Then somehow we fell back together onto my bed and it was more than kissing. It was almost as if I was in a dream, a small voice somewhere in the background whispering that I should stop now before it was too late and yet knowing I didn’t want to.

Suddenly a great shaft of light fell onto us and a big black shadow stepped into the room.

“I came to see whether you wanted undressing, miss,” said Queenie in a peeved voice, “but I can see you’re already undressed.”

A
T
SEA
ON
THE
B
ERENGARIA

M
ORNING
OF
S
UNDAY
, J
ULY
15, 1934

When the steward came into my cabin the next morning he acted as if nothing was amiss. I don’t mean about Darcy and me. Darcy had left reluctantly but in haste after Queenie’s arrival, warning her not to say a word about his presence on board or I would sack her on the spot. I had fallen asleep with a smile on my face, knowing that he was close by, on the ship with me.

“Good morning, my lady,” the steward said. “Another beautiful day. We are having a most fortunate crossing this time.”

Most fortunate? Not for some unlucky person, I thought and wondered if anyone had been reported missing by now. I was just finishing my tea and biscuits when Queenie appeared, looking bleary-eyed.

“The one time I manage to stay awake is the one time you don’t want me around,” she said, glaring at me with hands on her broad hips. “I said to myself, ‘She’ll never be able to get out of that blinking cat suit without help so I’d better make sure I don’t nod off.’ So I sat up on me bunk until I heard the last waltz played. And then when I came in I saw you’d got the cat suit off very nicely by yourself. Or with a little help from the gentleman, maybe.” She gave me a knowing look as she came across the room and picked up the cat costume that was lying on the floor. “Who’d have thought he was on board with us? That’s a turnup for the books, ain’t it? Or did you know and weren’t saying nothing?”

“I didn’t know, Queenie, and you mustn’t mention it to anyone. Mr. O’Mara is on some kind of secret mission.”

“Cor blimey,” she said. “He don’t half lead an exciting life, don’t he?”

“Doesn’t he, Queenie,” I corrected.

“Well, he do, don’t he?”

I sighed. She was never going to learn.

“Shall I run your bath then?” she asked. “And what do you want to wear?”

“I think the navy blue linen trousers and a white blouse, please.”

She went across to the closet. “’Ere, I’m sorry about barging in on you last night when you were in the middle of a bit of the old how’s yer father.”

“Yes, I was sorry too,” I said.

“You should let me know in future when I’m not to bother you. Tie a ribbon on the door or something.”

“Queenie, I wasn’t exactly planning something like that.”

“Nobody ever is,” she said. “At least that’s what my old mum tells me. She said she’d been to the pictures with my dad and they took the long way home by the canal and next thing she knew she was expecting me and they had to get married in a hurry.”

“I’ll remember not to walk home via the canal,” I said.

The loudspeaker in my room suddenly crackled into life. “Attention, all passengers. There is to be a lifeboat drill for all passengers at ten o’clock ship’s time. That is ten o’clock at your lifeboat station for all passengers. You do not need to bring your life jacket. This is only a drill. Repeat, this is only a drill.”

“I wonder what that’s all about,” Queenie said. “We already had one lifeboat drill when we came on board. We can’t have hit an iceberg, can we?”

I looked out of my window and saw people out on deck in short sleeves. “I think it’s highly unlikely,” I said.

As I took my bath I realized I knew the reason for the drill. They needed to know if anyone was missing without alarming the passengers. I dressed, went down to breakfast and heard plenty of expressions of annoyance that the morning was being interrupted by another ridiculous drill.

“It’s not as if we’re on the
Titanic,
” one woman was saying.

It was obvious that not many people had heard about the incident last night and I wondered if those who did know had been asked to remain silent about it. I managed to eat a hearty breakfast then went up to my lifeboat station on the top deck. My mother, Cy Goldman and Stella Brightwell joined me.

“What a stupid waste of time,” my mother said. “How many lifeboat drills does one need?”

“I think they’re up to something.” Cy peered over the side. “I think they want us out of the way on the promenade deck.”

“Up to what?” Stella demanded.

“Well, why did they ask if we had thrown anything out of our cabin window or whether anything was missing?” Cy asked.

“That was certainly strange,” Stella agreed. “I couldn’t see what they were getting at. I said I may have tossed out a cigarette butt from time to time.”

I said nothing. At our lifeboat station they took a roll call and kept us waiting for quite a while. It was only when mutiny was threatened that they let us depart again. I was just returning to my cabin when I saw the officer from last night approaching.

“Lady Georgiana. The captain would like a word, if you don’t mind.”

I was escorted back up the stairs to the officers’ quarters at the stern of the sundeck. I was shown into a pleasant sunny cabin paneled in dark wood. A definitely masculine room. The captain rose to his feet as I came in. Another officer was standing behind his desk and I reacted as I saw Darcy was standing over by the window.

“Ah, there you are, Lady Georgiana,” the captain said. “Good of you to come. May I introduce First Officer Higgins and I believe you are acquainted with Mr. O’Mara.”

“Yes,” I said, managing not to smile. “Mr. O’Mara and I are acquainted.”

“Please take a seat.” He motioned to a leather sofa. “You might have guessed what was behind that muster on the lifeboat deck just now.”

“Presumably you wanted to see if anyone was missing.”

“Quite right.”

“And what was the result?” I asked.

“All present and correct, apparently.”

“Then I must apologize for raising a false alarm,” I said. “I did hesitate before I called for help. I was never quite sure whether what I saw in the water was a person or not.”

“I would have dismissed the incident as something quite harmless had it not been for a piece of disturbing news given to us two days ago. You met Princess Promila at our table. You noticed she was not present last night. She is extremely upset by the apparent theft of a large and very valuable ruby she had in her possession. It is called the Star of Srinagar and is a priceless family heirloom.”

“She didn’t give you the jewel to put in the ship’s safe?” I asked.

He shook his head. “She likes to wear her jewelry. Besides she felt quite safe in the knowledge that her jewels were either on her person or in her jewel case in her cabin.”

“Was she wearing the ruby when it was taken?” I asked.

He shook his head. “It was in her jewel case, so she says. But she swears her personal servant never left her suite.”

“And could the servant maybe have been bribed to help with the robbery?” I asked.

“The servant is an old family retainer, so devoted that she sleeps at the bottom of the princess’s bed.”

I looked across at Darcy. “Do you think this is somehow connected to what I saw last night? Is that why you brought me up here?”

Darcy came over and perched on the arm of my sofa. “It’s possible,” he said.

“But if a jewel was stolen, the thief would hardly throw it over the side of the ship, would he? Not unless there was a boat waiting to pick it up below, and there wasn’t.”

Darcy nodded. “I agree it is perplexing. But the occupants of the cabins from which your object could have been thrown have sworn that they were not responsible for throwing anything out of their windows, and that nothing appears to be missing.”

“If you thought the item you saw thrown into the water was a person it must have been quite large,” the captain said.

I nodded. “It’s hard to say how large as it was hurtling down toward the ocean when I noticed it, but it was a good size.” I held my hands apart to demonstrate.

“And shape?”

“No definite shape. Someone mentioned the word ‘bundle’ and I think that describes it. Maybe various items wrapped in one bigger piece of cloth?”

Darcy shifted position on the arm of the sofa. “It would make perfect sense if people’s cabins had been robbed while a ball was going on, and the thief tossed down the items to be picked up by an accomplice, except that we are in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, nothing has been reported stolen last night, and we have seen no sign of any other ship around.”

“To be out here in a small boat would be folly,” the captain said. “A ship our size could easily obliterate a small craft without even noticing it. And how would it have got this far from land? No. I have to say that the scenario you suggest is impossible. So the question is if not to hand something over to an accomplice then why throw something out of a window?”

“Somebody trying to get rid of something incriminating,” I suggested.

Darcy shook his head. “But what? What would you need to get rid of in the middle of the ocean that couldn’t easily be thrown out in New York Harbor?”

“If someone thought that cabins would be searched?” I said.

“Searched for the missing ruby, you mean?” Darcy asked. “Unfortunately it is extremely easy to hide a precious stone on a ship this size. Shove it among the life jackets, stick it into a potted palm. Our best hope is searching every passenger at disembarkation—and what a stink that will cause.”

“But the very act of throwing out the object has now brought about that very thing,” the captain said. He looked across at Darcy. Darcy put a hand on my shoulder, an action that gave me an instant electric shock and made me forget what we were talking about for a moment.

“Georgie, what you don’t know is that one of the reasons for the lifeboat drill was to search every cabin for the princess’s jewel. Obviously we didn’t have enough time to do the job really thoroughly but there were plenty of cabins we knew we didn’t need to search. Those families traveling in second class, elderly clergymen, aged spinsters . . .”

“What about the crew’s cabins? Did you search them too?”

“In this case it wasn’t necessary,” Darcy said. “You see the reason I am on this ship is that I’m on the trail of a notorious cat burglar, responsible for a string of jewelry robberies. We suspect he’s a gentleman. He always leaves behind a black glove at the scene and the burglaries take place at society gatherings. Whoever he is, he’s dashed clever, and daring. He’s lifted things from under people’s noses.”

“And left no trace, no evidence?”

“Not a thing, except that one of the gloves had the letters
BOB
written in ink on the label. Whether that was something put on by the manufacturer or the shop that sold it we don’t know. Since our burglar is meticulous we can assume that if he wrote it there, he wanted us to know something. He was teasing us.”

“You keep saying ‘he,’” I said. “You’re sure this is definitely a man?”

“Since we suspect he can shin up drainpipes, cross ledges, open windows and perform various other athletic feats, it would have to be an exceptionally strong and agile woman. Also if it was one of the guests at various house parties, as we suspect it might be, a woman would be hampered by what she wore.”

“And you have reason to think he’s on this ship?”

Darcy nodded. “Two reasons, actually. We know an attempt was made to steal the princess’s jewels once before in Paris. And we know that Stella Brightwell is on this ship.”

“Stella? You think she might be involved in this?”

Darcy leaned closer to me, his hand on my shoulder now squeezing tighter. “This is not to go beyond this room, Georgie, but the only thing that links the burglaries is that Stella Brightwell was present at each of the gatherings.”

“Golly,” I said, forgetting to be sophisticated. “You can’t think she’s the cat burglar. Why would she need to be? She’s a film star. She’s rich.”

“Stranger things have happened before now,” Darcy said. “Some people turn to crime for the excitement, even when they don’t need money. However she has a watertight alibi for each of the robberies. When the crime was committed she was with a group of people, playing bridge, sitting at a dinner table, or in bed with Cy Goldman . . . all occasions on which it would have been noticed if she had left the room.”

“So it is true then,” I said. “She’s Cy Goldman’s mistress? I thought they seemed awfully chummy.”

Darcy nodded.

“But doesn’t he have a wife? I’m sure she was mentioned.”

“He does,” Darcy said. “Mrs. Goldman spends most of the year in their penthouse in New York. She doesn’t like the West Coast, apparently.”

“And she doesn’t want to divorce him for carrying on with other women?”

“Some people find divorce is too tiresome,” Darcy said. “And the current situation probably suits her just fine. She has all the advantages of being Mrs. Goldman. . . .”

“Except one,” First Officer Higgins commented.

I looked up and went bright red. Darcy grinned.

“As I was saying,” he went on, “Mrs. Goldman has all the advantages of his wealth and position but she doesn’t actually have to put up with him. I’m sure you’ve noticed he is not the easiest of men. I’ve been told he likes his own way all the time. He flies into temper tantrums if he’s crossed. Like an overgrown two-year-old. But then men like him have what it takes to succeed. I don’t know if he’s told you his life history yet. He’s very proud of it. He came to America as a young man at the turn of the century, after his village in Russia was burned to the ground. He came with nothing, did any job he could lay his hands on, met Thomas Edison, saved up and bought his own movie camera, then moved out West and started shooting pictures. Now he owns one of the most successful studios in the world. He can afford to be difficult.”