It's Murder, On a Galapagos Cruise: An Amateur Female Sleuth Historical Cozy Mystery (Miss Riddell C

you decided to say you found him. Then once the security and doctor arrived you told them your story and explained the blood on your hands by saying you’d checked his pulse at his neck. You’d either pocketed the weapon and dropped it overboard later when the deck was clear or you threw it overboard as you came down the stairs. Is that close enough to how it happened? Nobody will blame you. It was just self-defense.”
“That’s a fine theory but I repeat, I had nothing to do with this man’s death. Events happened as I described in my statement.”
“But you can see where I’m coming from, can’t you?”
“Yes, but there are too many holes in the story, Detective,” Pauline said. “First, even allowing for the man’s overwhelming youthful passion, which blinded him to the fact there were two of us and not one or that he could never get off the ship after what he’d done, do you really think he’d be driven to lust by the sight of one stringy, fifty-five-year-old woman or one plump woman who is even older, neither of whom were ever anything but plain?”
“Many people have unusual passions,” Somerville replied, “Why not this one?”
“Very well,” Pauline continued, “how did I, or Freda, have this weapon just there in our purses when it was needed. You suggest it was scissors or a nail file. You can check our dressing tables and find both are still very much in evidence.”
“I only used scissors or a nail file as possible examples,” the detective said, “until we have a proper post-mortem, we won’t know what the weapon actually was.”
“But somehow, you imagine, we were able to conceal this weapon throughout the time when the security officer and doctor were there and while my sister Freda was with me or that Freda wouldn’t have seen me throw it overboard.”
“I’m suggesting you are both supporting each other in this matter,” Somerville said.
“Perhaps,” Pauline said, “but all these small inconsistencies add up to an unlikely hypothesis, Detective.”
“As I said, Miss Riddell, I’m not accusing you of anything, just testing theories.”
“I’m pleased to hear it. Do you have any other theories that I can help you test?”
“None that you can help me with,” the detective said, rather pompously for one so young.
Pauline stared at him in disbelief. The nerve of the man. He was barely out of school, hadn’t a lick of sense, or an idea in his head, of that she was sure, and yet he took such airs to be above a mere amateur like her, even knowing how long she’d been working in this field.
“Then I’ll leave you to continue investigating,” Pauline said. “Should you wish to confirm we have all our sharp personal grooming tools, do ask. We’ll both be happy to oblige.”
Outside the office, Pauline found Freda, instead of socializing in the lounge, was waiting anxiously. “Is it all right?” she asked.
“Yes, of course,” Pauline said. “He just wanted to talk about what we saw when we found the body, detective-to-detective so to speak.”
“Oh,” Freda said. “Will he want to speak to me, do you think?”
“Maybe,” Pauline said, “but you should decline his invitation.”
“Won’t that upset him and make him suspicious?”
“Probably but I’m sure that young man is used to witnesses getting upset with him. Shall we go for tea and biscuits, though they’ll call them cookies, while we learn more details of our next stop from the naturalist?”
“Don’t you have a briefing with the captain?” Freda asked.
“Not until later, after the naturalist’s talk. By then, I should be calm enough to meet Detective Somerville again without murdering him.”
“Oh dear,” Freda said. “You don’t think it would be better to miss it tonight?”
“No dear, I don’t. We will need to be on our toes with that young man. I can’t leave him to manage the investigation alone. We will have to be involved.”
“Well, Detectives,” Captain Ferguson said, welcoming Pauline and Somerville to the briefing later that evening. “Have you learned anything that sheds light on this unfortunate affair?”
“Not a lot,” Somerville said. “I interviewed the doctor and spent time with the Ecuadorean Police filling them in on details I’d seen at the two places of interest.”
As he hadn’t been present when the body was in one of those places of interest and the other was an empty deck, gate and railing, Pauline wondered how much updating he’d been able to provide the Ecuadorean Police. She didn’t, however, share her musings.
“And you, Miss Riddell?”
“I’ve very little to add to what I’ve already said, Captain, but I would like you to provide us with some background on the dead man.”
“I can give you what I’ve been told,” Captain Ferguson said, “but I’ll have to introduce you to the officer in charge of maintenance for more details. He was closer to the dead man, and the others of the maintenance crew, than I am.”
“You give us the thirty-thousand-foot level, Captain,” Somerville said, “and we’ll get the finer details tomorrow.”
“Very well. As I understand it, this is a tragic case. The young man was a refugee from Peru. You may have heard of the civil war between the government there and the Shining Path guerillas. It seems, when he was just a child, Jose’s family was killed by government troops in an attack on their village, which the soldiers believed had been supporting the guerillas. After this horror, Jose was adopted by an uncle and aunt in another village and, some years later, when Jose was a teenager, that village was attacked by the Shining Path. His uncle and aunt and practically everyone in the village was killed. Jose was fortunate enough to be on his way to school when the attack began and was able to run and hide.”
“Jeez,” said Somerville, “how much bad luck can one guy have?”
“Quite!” Captain Ferguson said.
“He was carefully screened before he was hired, I presume,” Pauline asked.
“Very carefully, I’m sure. The company can’t afford to be lax when we have paying guests.”
“Still,” Somerville said,