But this point seemed lost on the old boy, who rattled on, “Anyway, even if we were struck by a torpedo, we’d never sink. . not with our watertight bulkheads.”
“That’s reassuring, as well,” I said.
Anderson had a dazed expression.
“And if we should sink,” Captain Turner said, with a fatalistic shrug, “the sinking would be so slow, we’d have plenty of time to get the passengers away in the lifeboats.”
“This is all encouraging information,” Miss Vance said, “but might I be so bold as to inquire how it relates to the murders of these stowaways?”
Turner sighed smoke, then gestured with the pipe in hand. “My understanding is that they aren’t ‘murders’ at all-it’s a falling-out among spies, and they’ve killed each other, and we’re all the better off for it.”
Her eyes wide, Miss Vance said, “I suppose that’s one way to look at it.”
“Young lady,” the captain said, “it’s the only way. The passengers on this ship, God bless them, came aboard despite alarmist talk of U-boats and sabotage and war. I do not want them unnecessarily burdened with further trepidation.”
“Captain,” she said, setting her tea cupdown with a clatter, “these men may have an accomplice on your crew-it’s no secret the
“That’s a gross exaggeration,” Anderson said, bristling.
I was surprised she had broached this-but I noticed she continued to guard her hole card carefully: the cyanide poisoning of the two stabbed cell mates.
Turner patted the air with his pipe in hand. “Let her talk. Let her talk.”
Crisply she said, “Someone had to help smuggle those men aboard. And when the stowaways were captured, perhaps that same someone butchered all three, to cover his tracks.”
“Suppose he had,” Turner said. “Suppose we have a greedy boy who invited those Krauts aboard. . If so, he’s no spy, he’s no German, just. . a greedy boy. He’s killed our spies for us-our passengers are hardly in any danger now.”
Miss Vance seemed stunned by this response, as well she should have been: Its absurdity was worthy of Lewis Carroll, and the captain did after all vaguely resemble Alice’s walrus.
“Captain,” I said, trying to do my part, “a new piece of troubling evidence has come to light-Mr. Anderson? The list?”
Anderson showed Turner the list from Klaus’s shoe, and the captain frowned and asked us what significance we gave it.
Miss Vance presented the two theories-an assassination agenda, or a blueprint for shipboard robbery. Turner listened, entertaining himself with sips of tea and puffs from his pipe.
Then he made an expansive gesture with one hand, saying, “How does this change anything? Don’t we still have three dead Germans, who can neither kill nor steal? Don’t we still have passengers who deserve to make this crossing without undue trepidation?”
No one had answers to any of that.
So Turner went on: “And here is what we’ll do. Those bodies will be moved from the hospital to a refrigeration compartment on the lower deck. . See to it, Anderson, that these cadavers are kept quite separate from the beef, mutton, vegetables and so on.”
News of that might upset the passengers more than German spies!
“Yes, sir,” Anderson said. “We’ll store them in ice, sir.”
“They have to make the full journey, after all,” Turner said, “before we turn them and this entire situation over to the British Secret Service.”
Anderson nodded toward Miss Vance. “Our detective has taken the knife in question into her personal custody.”
“Well, that’s fine,” Turner said.
“She has with her fingerprinting equipment, sir.”
Turner frowned, pipe in his teeth. “How does that help the situation?”
Miss Vance said, “If I find fingerprints on the knife, I can compare them to our three dead stowaways. If prints belonging to a fourth party are present, we probably have a murderer aboard. . possibly a crew member.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“Well,” she said, and she was keeping her tone strictly business-like, “we would fingerprint the crew, to make comparisons.”
Turner’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “Ye gods, how long would that take?”
“It can be done gradually, when they’re off duty. It’s tedious, but easily accomplished. .”
Those eyebrows were still high. “And if there’s no match among the crew?”
She shrugged. “Fingerprinting the passengers might be beyond my capability, under these circumstances. . but I can assure you the British authorities will not allow anyone off this boat before they themselves have taken this measure.”
Turner was shaking his head. “I don’t see how I can allow this. .”
“Captain,” Miss Vance said tersely, “you have no choice.”
His eyes and nostrils flared. “Oh, don’t I? Are you running the ship now, young lady? Is ‘detective’ a rank above ‘captain,’ where you come from?”
She was sitting rather stiff-backed. “As a Pinkerton operative, sir, I am an officer of the court. If I have knowledge of a crime, it is not only my duty, but my legal responsibility to report it.”
Anderson said, “No one is suggesting that this crime not be reported!”
Gesturing with his pipe in hand, smearing the air with smoke, Turner said, “We’re not talking crime, Miss. . uh, Vance. This is an instance of espionage, and it’s a military matter, not a criminal one.”
“That’s for others to judge,” she said.
Turner’s pale face began to turn a peculiar shade of purple. “The captain is the only judge on the high seas, my dear. . and you are sorely trying the patience of the captain.”
“Meaning no disrespect, sir, I was hired by Cunard, not by you. I answer to Cunard, to Pinkerton. . and to the law. I will cooperate with you in every way-both Mr. Van Dine and I have already pledged our confidentiality to Staff Captain Anderson. We have no desire to alarm the passengers, or even the crew. . in fact, our investigation will proceed more effectively under a similar cloud of secrecy.”
“Your ‘investigation,’ ” the captain curtly said, “will consist of checking that knife handle for fingerprints. When you have a result, come to me.”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
Turner’s beady gaze swivelled in my direction. “I’ve talked freely in front of you, Mr. Van Dine-and I know it’s made Mr. Anderson nervous.”
“No need for anxiety,” I said. “My intentions are honorable. My goal is to conduct interviews with various passengers-that is all.”
That those passengers were the same ones listed on the scrap of paper in the dead man’s shoe I did not point out.
Anderson said, “Mr. Van Dine assures me he intends to portray our ship in the best possible light.”
Sitting back, puffing his pipe, Captain Turner said, “Very good-Miss Vance, I would like you to help arrange these interviews. .perhaps starting with your charge, Madame DePage.”
“Certainly, Captain.”
Turner rose. “Now I would suggest we all try to catch a few hours of sleep. . I can tell you that’s what I plan.”
After a brusque good-bye, we found ourselves back in the hallway.
Anderson confronted his ship’s detective. “Most of that was entirely out of line, Miss Vance.”
She stood up to him, her nose inches from his. “Let me ask you a simple question, Captain Anderson-how will you feel if one of your passengers turns up murdered?”
He reared back. “Why would-”
But she pressed forward. “And, afterward, it’s learned that you and the captain were unconcerned that a
