Miss Barrow looked agonisingly sage, not to say smug. “Ah, there’s more than one type of witness. It’s not what she saw, it’s what she didn’t see.”
And she would say no more, not even when Cabal made several veiled threats of physical violence.
Miss Ambersleigh answered the knock at Lady Ninuka’s stateroom door. If she was perplexed to find Leonie Barrow there, or dismayed to find Cabal, she showed no sign of it. She asked them only for a moment to see if her ladyship was receiving visitors. When she returned, she ushered them inside.
Lady Ninuka was waiting to receive them in the sitting room of her suite, a far cry from the small if well appointed cabins of Cabal, Miss Barrow, and the late M. DeGarre. She was the very embodiment of reserved politeness, but she plainly expected the interview to go one way, and an awkward way at that. She ordered tea and made small talk until it arrived. When it did, she tactfully dismissed Miss Ambersleigh, who left without rancour, saying that she hoped the young people had a pleasant chat.
Lady Ninuka waited until the door had closed quietly behind Miss Ambersleigh before speaking. “You are doubtless here to discuss my talking with Herr Meissner without proper supervision?” she said in a reasonable tone that carried the message that there was nothing here about which they could not come to agreement.
“Doubtless,” said Miss Barrow, smiling. It was the smile of a large predator just prior to driving its fangs into its prey’s cervical vertebrae. “Actually, no. We’re here to talk about Gabriel Zoruk.”
Cabal endeavoured not to look surprised. Were they?
Lady Ninuka blanched slightly. “I don’t really know the gentleman — ”
“Please, please, please. Don’t start off by making statements that you later come to regret.” Miss Barrow shook her head like a governess who has caught a small child out in a transparent lie.
Lady Ninuka was having none of it. “I spoke to him at dinner last night. That is the limit of my association with the man.”
“Oh. Oh, dear,” said Miss Barrow regretfully.
“You see? I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time coming here.”
“Hmm? Oh, no. That’s not what I’m sorry for. I was just feeling sorry for poor Herr Zoruk, thrown into the brig, all alone, and under suspicion of murdering M. DeGarre.”
“Well, of course we’re all sorry — ”
“I hadn’t quite finished,” interrupted Miss Barrow, looking steadily at Lady Ninuka. Ninuka shifted awkwardly in her chair. Despite himself, Cabal couldn’t help but admire Leonie Barrow’s handling of the interview. She had found a chink in her ladyship’s armour, driven a stiletto deep into it, and was now slowly turning the blade. “What I was about to say was that I feel so very sorry for Herr Zoruk’s being in such a dreadful situation when he is entirely innocent.”
Lady Ninuka sat very still, hardly breathing.
“Entirely innocent, yet unable to prove it. Because proving it depends on an alibi, and it’s an alibi that the poor, stupid, chivalrous boy refuses to use.”
Lady Ninuka, deciding that outraged morality would provide a suitable high ground, retorted, “What are you implying?”
Miss Barrow laughed, still pleasant, as if they were discussing hats. “I’m not implying anything, your ladyship. I’m stating it. You are Gabriel Zoruk’s alibi. While he was supposed to be off engineering a disappearance and attacking Herr Meissner here, he was in fact … shall I use a euphemism? He was providing you with company through the dark hours. That seems like a gallant way of putting it. I could be far more specific, of course, if you’d prefer?”
It was clear that Lady Ninuka did not prefer. Standing slightly unsteadily on her dignity, she said, “This is an outrage, Miss Barrow. It is a libel in front of a witness. You will regret this vile slur.”
“No, I shan’t. You’re quite wrong, on two counts. First, you mean
“Of course. My lady, we are not journalists looking for something to amuse the hoi polloi. Nor do we travel in your circles. We simply wish to clarify the events of last night. The search for my attacker has stopped because Captain Schten believes he has him in custody.” He decided not to tell her that the search had resumed, not when he could see a way to bring Ninuka’s self-interest into play. “If he is wrong, that means the real criminal is still at large, walking these very corridors. We have no inkling why I was attacked or whether M. DeGarre’s disappearance truly was suicide; it is not inconceivable that the perpetrator has not yet finished his or her plan, whatever it may be. In which case nobody aboard is safe.” He looked significantly at Ninuka. “Nobody.”
Ninuka considered. Then she said, “There is not an iota of truth in what you say. You understand that? I have a chaperone to guard my honour. How do you propose that I led this ridiculous demimondaine existence you hint at under the very nose of Miss Ambersleigh? Does she strike you as so laissez-faire?”
Leonie Barrow did not flicker an eyelid, nor did she speak, and Cabal knew that she had no answer. He, on the other hand, did. Once he had got over the initial shock of being selected as a bedpost notch, he had been thinking events and conversations through again in light of this revelation, and had made a deduction or two of his own. Miss Barrow might be his superior in matters of the human mind, but when it came to raw data he was the master of synthesis.
“No,” he admitted, pleased to be adding something concrete to the arena. “She does not. Nor is she. Then again, you don’t strike me as a woman with insomnia.”
Miss Barrow looked sideways at him, and he met her glance. There was something like satisfaction and perhaps a tic of respect there. He felt childishly pleased for a moment, before reminding himself that this was the same woman who intended to hand him over to the Senzan authorities on the morrow.
“What nonsense is this?” demanded Lady Ninuka. It was bluster, and weak bluster at that.
“You are not an insomniac. You claim to be, but only so that your doctor will prescribe you sleeping powders. These you squirrel away until such time as they are required. Specifically, when a conscious Miss Ambersleigh would just get in the way.”
Lady Ninuka said nothing, but simply looked at her gloved hands lying in her lap. It seemed that she had finally realised that denying everything was simply undignified.
“Finally,” said Miss Barrow. “Now we can move on. Herr Meissner will inform the captain that there is a witness who can state that Herr Zoruk was nowhere near DeGarre’s cabin or the vent last night. The captain will want a name.” Lady Ninuka coloured slightly. “Herr Meissner will have to provide it, but he will also underline the need for discretion. The captain is no fool. The matter will go no further, and Herr Zoruk will be released, free of suspicion. You need have no part of any discussions, although you may depend on the captain’s paying you a visit to confirm these facts. He will probably also wish to know why you did not come forward earlier.” Miss Barrow’s voice hardened. “Which is an excellent question that I would like answered myself.”
There were several seconds of silence. “Must I say?” whispered Lady Ninuka.
“Yes,” said Cabal. “You must.”
She looked up. The confident young woman of only a few minutes before had gone. Now she had trouble meeting their eyes. When she finally managed it, she said only one thing.
“It was romantic.”
Romantic?” said Captain Schten after Cabal had taken him to one side and told him the state of affairs.
“I couldn’t say,” admitted Cabal. “I believe the idea of a man prepared to fritter away his liberty in defence of her honour occurring outside of a novel was a profound shock to her.” He coughed and added in a confidential tone, “I fear the young lady is becoming jaded well before her time.”
“Good God,” said the captain. He shook his head and brought himself back to the matters at hand. “I’ll have to talk to her, of course, but I’ll have a word with Zoruk first.”
“He won’t say anything.”
“I know, I know, but at least we can let him know that
