“Captain?…”
“Yes? Sorry, what did you say?”
“If I might make a suggestion? While Hector does a preliminary examination to see if we can discover the cause of death, will you allow me to question Gray’s colleague, and then we might discover the why as well as the how?”
Evans lips compressed thoughtfully. “I don’t feel that I have the authority. I’ll have to speak to the chairman of the company.”
“As soon as possible, Captain. We’ll wait here,” Fane replied calmly. “While we are waiting, Doctor Ross and I will get the body out of the toilet.”
Hardly any time passed before Moss Evans returned. By then Ross and Fane had been able to remove the body of Kinloch Gray from the toilet and lay it in the area between the bulkhead and front row of the premier-class seats.
Evans cleared his throat awkwardly. “Doctor Fane. My chairman has given you full permission to act as you see fit in this matter… until the aircraft lands, that is. Then, of course, you must hand over matters to the local police authority.” He shrugged and added, as if some explanation were necessary: “It seems that my chairman has heard of your reputation as a… a criminologist? He is happy to leave the matter in the hands of Doctor Ross and yourself.”
Fane inclined his head gravely. “Will you be diverting the aircraft?” he asked.
“My chairman has ordered us to continue to our point of destination, Doctor. As the man is dead, it is pointless to divert in search of any medical assistance.”
“Good. Then we have over three hours to sort this out. Can your steward provide me with a corner where I can speak with Gray’s colleague? She tells me that he is his personal secretary. I want a word without causing alarm to other passengers.”
“See to it, Jeff,” Captain Evans ordered the chief steward. He glanced at Fane. “Don’t they say that murder is usually committed by someone known to the victim? Doesn’t that make this secretary the prime suspect? Or will every passenger have to be checked out to see if they have some connection with Gray?”
Fane smiled broadly. “I often find that you cannot make general rules in these matters.”
Evans shrugged. “If it helps, I could put out an address asking all passengers to return to their seats and put on their seat belts. I could say that we are expecting turbulence. It would save any curious souls from trying to enter this area.”
“That would be most helpful, Captain,” Hector Ross assured him, looking up from his position by the corpse.
Evans hesitated a moment more. “I am going back to the flight deck. Keep me informed of any developments.”
Within a few minutes of Evans’s leaving, there came the sound of raised voices. Fane looked up to see the stewardess, Sally Beech, trying her best to prevent a young man from moving forward toward them.
The young man was very determined. “I tell you that I work for him.” His voice was raised in protest. “I have a right to be here.”
“You are in tourist class, sir. You have no right to be here in premier class.”
“If something has happened to Mr. Gray, then I demand…”
Fane moved quickly forward. The young man was tall, well spoken, and, Fane observed, his handsome looks were aided by a tan that came from a lamp rather than the sun. He was immaculately dressed. He sported a gold signet ring on his slim tapering fingers. Fane had a habit of noticing hands. He felt much could be told about a person from their hands and how they kept their fingernails. This young man obviously paid a great deal of attention to maintaining well-manicured nails.
“Is this Mr. Gray’s secretary?” he asked Sally.
The stewardess shook her head. “No, Doctor. This is a passenger from tourist class. He claims to have worked for Mr. Gray.”
“And your name is?” queried Fane swiftly, his sharp eyes on the young man’s handsome features.
“Oscar Elgee. I was Mr. Gray’s manservant.” The young man spoke with a modulated voice that clearly betrayed his prep school background. “Check with Frank Tilley, in premier class. He is Mr. Gray’s personal secretary. He will tell you who I am.”
Fane smiled encouragingly at Sally Beech. “Would you do that for me, Miss Beech, and also tell Mr. Tilley that I would like to see him here when convenient?” When she hurried away, Fane turned back to the new arrival. “Now, Mr. Elgee, how did you hear that there had been an… an accident?”
“I heard one of the stewardesses mentioning it to another back in the tourist class,” Elgee said. “If Mr. Gray has been hurt-”
“Mr. Gray is dead.”
Oscar Elgee stared at him for a moment. “A heart attack?”
“Not exactly. Since you are here, you might formally identify your late employer. We need an identification for Doctor Ross’s record.”
He stood aside and allowed the young man to move forward to where the body had been laid out ready for Ross’s examination. Ross moved to allow the young man to examine the face. Elgee halted over the body and gazed down for a moment.
“That’s exactly what we are attempting to find out,” Ross told him. “I take it that you formally identify this man as Henry Kinloch Gray?”
The young man nodded briefly, turning away. Fane halted him beyond the curtained area.
“How long did you work for him, Mr. Elgee?”
“Two years.”
“What exactly was your job with him?”
“I was his manservant. Everything. Chauffeur, butler, cook, valet, handyman. His
“And he took you on his trips abroad?”
“Of course.”
“But I see he was a stickler for the social order, eh?” smiled Fane.
The young man flushed. “I don’t understand.”
“You are traveling tourist class.”
“It would not be seemly for a manservant to travel first class.”
“Quite so. Yet, judging from your reactions to his death, you felt a deep attachment to your employer?”
The young man’s chin raised defiantly, and a color came to his cheeks. “Mr. Gray was an exemplary employer. A tough businessman, true. But he was a fair man. We never had a cross word. He was a good man to work for. A great man.”
“I see. And you looked after him? Took care of his domestic needs. If I recall the newspaper stories, Harry Gray was always described as an eligible bachelor.”
Fane saw a subtle change of expression on the young man’s face. “If he had been married, then he would hardly have needed my services, would he? I did everything for him. Even repairing his stereo system or his refrigerator. No, he was not married.”
“Just so.” Fane smiled, glancing again at Elgees hands. “Repairing a stereo system requires a delicate touch. Unusual for a handyman to be able to do that sort of thing.”
“My hobby is model making. Working models.” There was a boastful note in his voice.
“I see. Tell me, as you would be in the best position to know, did your employer have any enemies?”
The young man actually winced. “A businessman like Harry Gray is surrounded by enemies.” He looked up and saw Sally Beech ushering a bespectacled man into the compartment. “Some enemies work with him and pretended to be his confidants,” he added with a sharp note. He paused and frowned as the thought seemed to occur to him. “Are you saying that his death was… was suspicious?”
Fane noticed, with approval, that Sally had motioned her new charge to sit down and did not come forward
