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

as is proper, of course. We should none of us brag about ourselves. But to answer your question, I was captain of this ship when it was the MS Ilium and taking tourists around the Eastern Mediterranean. I’ve been with her since the Sixties when it was all happening on the Greek Islands. We took school trips in the spring and autumn season; they were fun too. It was a happy time.”
“And now?”
“The Eighties haven’t been kind to any of us, passengers or crew, and the ship was to be scrapped and me with it. With things as they are at home right now, unemployment in double digits and marine unemployment even more than that, the British merchant fleet gone, it looked like the end of my working life. Then a miracle happened.”
“The tour company bought the ship?”
“They did and had it refitted for a more upmarket clientele. Where we used to have cabins for three hundred guests, now it’s only ninety. Where we had entertainment for regular folk, now we have lectures for people who love nature and photography. I’m not ashamed to say I practically begged them to take me with the ship. After all, no one, other than our chief engineer, knows her better. They agreed so here I am. In nine more years, I can retire and draw my pension so I’m hoping very much this new venture succeeds.”
“Which is why you’re keen to have no shadow of wrongdoing to destroy the company’s future?”
“Yes, I’m afraid my desire for a satisfactory answer here is personal as well as professional.”
“I will do my best for you, Captain,” Pauline said, “but I’ll report what I find, even if that causes you and the company harm. I’m sorry I can’t do otherwise. My conscience would never let me.”
“Miss Riddell, I would never ask you to. I’m old-fashioned enough to believe that if someone has been murdered, justice must be done.”
Pauline rose. “Then I wish you good day, Captain, until I return to report my progress.”
She left the cabin and returned to the lounge where Freda was in deep discussion with an elderly widow. Pauline sighed. Misery may love company but too much of its company isn’t good for anyone. She caught Freda’s eye and drew her away.
“You should have joined us,” Freda said, as they walked toward the bar where tea and coffee were being served. “Mrs. Schomberg is nice.”
“I want to tell you of my meeting with the captain and I can’t do that with people about,” Pauline said.
“Oh. I’d forgotten about that.”
They took their tea outside where the sunshine seemed to pin them to the planking. They climbed the steps leading to the first of the decks from where Jose could have fallen and made their way to the spot. Once they were in an area clear enough to see they weren’t observed or likely to be overheard, Pauline told Freda she was investigating the suspicious death of Jose.
“Polly, are you sure you want to do this?”
“The Captain knows Matt and has asked for my help,” Pauline said. “Anyway, if this young man was murdered, he deserves that we find out who did it and see that they are punished.”
“But Polly, you’re sticking your neck out here. Everyone says it’s an accident. If you can’t prove it isn’t, your own standing, your reputation if you like, will be tarnished.”
“So be it,” Pauline said. “No one other than the people on this ship will know so my reputation, as you call it, won’t suffer any damage.”
“People always know. Remember, many of the passengers are from Toronto as well. Word will get about. You’ve become quite famous there since that jewel robbery crime you solved.”
“Maybe it’s time for me to hang up my deerstalker and magnifying glass anyhow. I don’t know how Miss Marple kept it going into her seventies.”
“Then quit right now and save my holiday.”
Pauline shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. “That young man had the face of an angel. I must bring his killer to justice. I must.”
“That’s the end of our holiday together,” Freda said, her expression gloomy.
“There will be plenty of time together,” Pauline said. “After all, my investigating will be done here on the ship.”
“That’s true,” Freda said, and added, brightening, “and I can help. I’ve always been a bit jealous of your detective work. We’ll be a detecting team.”
Pauline smiled. “We’ll be a detective team,” she agreed, “when we’re not photographing iguanas and finches. We’re starting right now by revisiting the possible crime scenes.”
They found the railing above the place Jose had been lying and looked over.
“It’s not high enough,” Freda said. “If he fell awkwardly, he could die, of course, but it isn’t more than fifteen feet. If it’s murder, the murderer took an awful chance.”
Pauline nodded. “You’re already thinking like a detective,” she said. “We’re going to be a great team. As you say, to be certain, a murderer would want it to be from the next deck up. Maybe it wasn’t really murder. Maybe someone pushed him, he overbalanced on the railing and plunged to his death and the someone was horrified at what they’d done.”
“If it was an accident,” Freda said, “wouldn’t they have gone for help?”
“You or I would,” Pauline said, “but many people are just frightened of what could happen to them, or they could have some reason to believe the authorities wouldn’t believe it was an accident. I agree it’s unlikely, but we can’t rule it out. Let’s go up to the next deck.”
The upper deck was windy causing their hair and skirts to flap around them.
“I don’t like it up here with this stiff breeze,” Freda said. “I feel I’m going to be blown overboard.”
Pauline didn’t reply. She’d reached the point from where Jose might have fallen, and she was gently shaking the loose gate in the railing.
“This is where he fell from,” Pauline said. Freda slowly joined her and held onto the rail rather than the gate. She looked over.
“I agree,” she