‘Captain Lagrande was nursing a grudge. More than that, he’d found a way to revenge the death of his brother.’
The captain rolled his head in a silent roar as Fen spoke.
‘Brother?’ Eloise asked.
‘Yes, Jean-Louis Lagrande. The umpteenth generation of Lagrandes, along with our captain here, to join the French navy, and he’d almost served his time when a German torpedo sunk the ship he was on, here in the North Atlantic.’
‘Lagrande boasted of his naval connections the first night we met him,’ James added. ‘And mentioned a brother then too.’
‘Why would he kill that German man though?’ Mrs Archer, clearly not convinced of the captain’s guilt, spoke over James.
‘Well, that’s where a quick look around cabin thirteen came in very useful,’ Fen smiled at Dodman. ‘I found paperwork belonging to the dead man. It seemed he worked at Schwarzkopf, the major torpedo manufacturer in Germany, and later moved to Peenemünde, in Bavaria, where it seems Germany had its HQ for rocket scientists. His work would have been instrumental in creating the torpedoes that made this ocean so treacherous a few months ago.’
‘And Lagrande knew all of this?’ Mrs Archer asked, an eyebrow raised.
‘There are more detailed passenger lists than the one we’re issued with.’ Fen flopped her now quite tatty copy of the list on the table.
‘That’s how he got his threat across to Fischer?’ James stated.
‘Exactly, when Fischer saw that he wasn’t listed, but there was a man called Wracker-Nayman on board, well, he knew it was a message. Not that there couldn’t be someone called Wracker-Nayman – your average German chap might not know what constitutes a common British surname – but I suppose he read it out loud and knew it was a homophone for the German words rache nehman, or “to take revenge”.’
Mrs Archer looked at her watch. ‘Are you really having us believe that this man, the captain of this ship,’ she pointed to the bleary and semi-conscious captain, ‘killed one of his own passengers as a matter of mere revenge?’
Eloise looked shocked at her aunt. ‘His brother was killed. I told you, Fen,’ she turned to speak to her, ‘she does care more about things than people. Aunt M, I’m glad I stole your tiara!’
‘I beg your pardon, young lady?’ Mrs Archer turned to face her niece. ‘You did what?’
‘I stole them. There, I’ve said it.’ Eloise ran her hands down her lap, smoothing her skirt. ‘I stole your jewels so that Frank and I could elope.’
‘Frank? Lieutenant Johnstone? What about Reginald Vandervinter? You’ve been meant for him since you were a child!’
‘And I couldn’t even tell you what he looks like now!’ Eloise stood up, and at the same time Frank Johnstone did too. They moved closer to each other and grasped one another’s hands in a show of unity. ‘Frank, on the other hand… Aunt M, you don’t know what he did for us in the war. You don’t even recognise him, for pity’s sake, though he was at the château with us for months. He did so much for us.’ She shook her head in disbelief at her aunt’s blinkeredness. ‘For me, too. He showed me what it was to be in love.’
‘Love! Love? You will marry Reginald Vandervinter and that’s an end to it. I hope I can rely on those present for their discretion?’ She eyed the room, but most of the others gathered in the saloon couldn’t meet her gaze. ‘So it’s like that, is it?’
‘Aunt, I’m going to marry Frank. As for the Princeton tiara, I’m sorry, I’ll return it immediately.’
‘I should hope so, too!’
‘But you can’t stop us from marrying,’ Eloise sounded worried now, her confidence of a few minutes ago starting to ebb.
‘We’ll see about that. Where is it then? The tiara and the other pieces?’ Mrs Archer was sitting with her arms crossed over her chest, looking less than pleased considering she’d just been told that her jewels were to be recovered.
‘In the lifeboats. That’s correct, isn’t it?’ Fen looked up to where Eloise and Frank were standing. They looked awkwardly at each other, but Eloise nodded. Fen carried on, ‘The night they were stolen you said you’d left your cabin, changing your story from the first time we spoke, and in so doing you put the blame on the dead man in the lifeboat. You’d passed him on the stairs, you said, when you were on your way to take photographs of the moon.’
Eloise nodded again.
‘I should have spotted the lie much sooner really. I mean, taking photographs of the moon when we’ve been beset by fog almost this entire journey? And yesterday when we spoke in your cabin, well, you pointed out that, although luxurious, it had hardly any storage, so nowhere for you to hide anything, but also nowhere for a camera to be lurking. Because, I hate to say it, I did nose around before you met me and, quite simply, you don’t have one. So am I right in thinking that you were on your way to hide the jewels in the lifeboats, while Frank, your accomplice, was being given the best alibi ever, by James?’
‘Yes, you’re right.’ Eloise clutched tighter at Frank. ‘It was all my idea though. I would put the jewels temporarily in a lifeboat and Frank could fetch them the next day, once the theft had been reported and he had a rock-solid alibi.’
‘Eloise, how could you?’ Mrs Archer looked like she’d been building up a full head of steam and was about to let it all out.
‘Steal the tiara or fall in love with Frank? Quite frankly, Aunt, I don’t know which is the worst in your eyes. Frank and I are in love and we knew we had to be cautious, well, at least until he was put beyond suspicion. Then we could be a bit more free with each other. Chaperoned by Fen and James, of course.’
Mrs Archer closed her eyes and held her hand out, begging for no more information. Before she
