Dangerous Cargo (20 page)

“I never saw that will before,” said Martin, blinking. “Horace made it out
without consulting me. I know nothing about it.”

This was a lie, because Horace had told us that he had shown both his
wills to Martin.

Mme. Storey shrugged. “Anyhow,” she said, “I can promise you that this
will will stand up in court. There will be Sophie’s testimony, you see, that
the original was stolen from her. There are plenty of precedents for such
wills.”

Adrian turned away with a sick face. Flinging an arm against the marble
wall, he leaned his head against it. There is no doubt but that this gesture
was sincere. Whether he was innocent or guilty it was staggering to have one
of the greatest fortunes in the world snatched away like that. I was
surprised that he took it standing. “To come back to this question of an
autopsy…” said Mme. Storey.

Sophie spoke up quickly: “I won’t permit it!”

My employer looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“You said my will was good, didn’t you?” Sophie went on volubly. “I guess
that puts it up to me!”

“Your will?” said Mme. Storey. She made believe to glance over the paper.
“You are not mentioned here. Celia is the heir.”

“I’m her mother!”

“She’s of age.”

“She will do what I tell her!”

“Celia,” said Mme. Storey, “you have heard all that has been said. In my
opinion an autopsy is necessary. What is your wish?”

The girl answered tremulously: “I want you to do whatever you think is
best, Rosika.”

“Celia!” cried Sophie angrily. “Would you turn against me? Before all
these people! You know nothing about this woman! She may ruin us!”

“How could she ruin us?” asked the girl simply. “She only wants to find
out the truth.” To Mme.

Storey she went on: “If it is really up to me, I want you to act for
me.”

“In other words you constitute me your attorney?”

“I do.”

“I forbid it! I forbid it! I forbid it!” cried Sophie.

My employer ignored her. She said to Martin: “As Horace’s executor, what
do you say?”

What Martin’s real feelings were I had no means of telling. He merely
blinked. He must have known that if he had refused, Mme. Storey would have
gone ahead anyway. He said impassively: “I consent.”

To Les, Mme. Storey said in a lowered voice: “Have the body carried to Dr.
Tanner’s surgery on A deck. If Dr. Tanner refuses to go ahead I will do what
is necessary myself.”

“Yes, Madam,” said Les. He spoke as if this were the most ordinary
situation. Amongst all those hysterical people it was wonderfully
reassuring.

“Another thing,” said Mme. Storey; “I assume that this tank can be pumped
out?”

“Yes, Madam.”

“How long will it take?”

“A couple of hours.”

“Please have it done. My secretary will remain here to make sure that
nothing is disturbed or removed until I get back.”

“How about him?” asked Les with a jerk of his head in Adrian’s
direction.

“Ask him to return to his room until we resume our…er…conference.”

“It’s unjust!” cried Adrian. “To treat me as my brother’s murderer!…Oh,
Horace!…Why, I didn’t even have anything to gain by his death!”

“You didn’t know that! You didn’t know that!” cried Sophie viciously.

“Come on, Mr. Laghet,” said Les.

WITHIN an hour or so we were all gathered at the edge of the
pool again. Adele was there now, sitting on a bench a little apart from the
others, with Dr. Tanner standing beside her. The water in the basin was
slowly going down. Everybody was covertly watching Mme. Storey’s pale
inscrutable face, wondering what secrets it hid. She was conferring with Les
in a whisper.

Les went up the stairway, and she turned to us. “The investigation reveals
that there is no water in Horace’s lungs,” she said. “Consequently he had
ceased to breathe before his body entered the pool.”

She paused, and one could hear a shuddering breath escape her hearers.

She went on dryly: “Owing to my ignorance and Dr. Tanner’s unwillingness,
it was impossible to carry the autopsy any further. The water splashed on the
edge of the pool shows that Horace fell or was thrown into the pool alongside
the diving-board. Cases of cerebral hemorrhage or ‘strokes’ as they are
called, are so rare in men of Horace’s age and good condition I think that
explanation should be rejected. Moreover, I have found a microscopic puncture
in his leg which leads me to believe that he was poisoned.”

There was a silence while the ugly word sank in. None of us liked to look
at the others.

Suddenly Adrian dried out:

“If he was poisoned, Sophie did it! Look at her face!”

Sophie’s face crimsoned, then turned pale as paper again. She could not
control the trembling of her lips. “It’s a lie!” she stammered. “Just a
clumsy attempt to divert suspicion from himself!”

“Sophie did it! Sophie did it!” he reiterated. “She was terrified Horace
would find out how Celia was carrying on with Emil! It nearly came out last
night. She had to act quick before Horace got wise and broke the
engagement!”

Celia was aghast at this ugly charge. “It’s a lie!” screamed Sophie. “I
know nothing about poisons!…Do I have to submit to this man’s horrible
insults?” she demanded of us generally.

“I believe in the French fashion of letting everybody talk,” said Mme.
Storey dryly. “The truth will come out!”

Sophie took refuge in noisy tears. Celia undertook to comfort her, staring
over her mother’s head with a strained white face. It was a terrible
initiation for the inexperienced girl.

“Who was the last to see Horace alive?” asked Mme. Storey. She turned to
Martin. “We left him with you about half-past eleven last night.”

“I left him a few minutes after you did,” said Martin. “He repeated his
determination not to leave his rooms the next day.”

“Did he say anything about taking a swim?”

“No.”

Les returned down the stairs bringing Beaton, Horace Laghet’s valet.
Beaton was a little man no longer young, with a keen, good-natured face.
Suspicion was never directed against him.

“Beaton,” said Mme. Storey, “when did you last see your master?”

“Last night when I was helping him to dress for dinner, Madam.”

“Not after that?”

“I never went into him at night, Madam, unless he rang for me.”

“How about this morning?”

“I heard him go past my door just before seven o’clock, Madam. That was
his usual hour. He would take a few turns on deck before going down to the
pool. But I did not see him. I went in to lay out his clothes for the day
according to custom…” Beaton hesitated, and Mme. Storey asked:

“Well, what happened then?”

“About half-past seven Mrs. Dare came to the door to ask for him,
Madam.”

Every eye turned towards Sophie.

“Well, what of it? what of it?” she demanded defiantly. “I asked for
Horace, Beaton told me he had gone down to the pool, and I returned to my
room, that’s all.”

Beaton looked rather strange and Mme. Storey asked: “Beaton, can you
confirm the fact that Mrs. Dare returned to her room?”

“No, Madam,” said Beaton reluctantly. “She didn’t go back to her room. At
least, not right away.”

“What did I tell you!” cried Adrian.

“I thought it strange she should come to see Mr. Laghet at that hour,”
Beaton went on, “and I opened the door a crack and watched her. She went
along the corridor to the forward companionway and turned out of sight there.
I cannot swear that she went down the companionway, but she did not appear
again.”

“She went down all right!” cried Adrian. “She was the last to see Horace
alive!”

“I didn’t see him!” retorted Sophie. “It’s true I went down to the pool,
but he wasn’t there. I looked in the gymnasium and he wasn’t there. So I went
back to my room.”

“After Beaton had told you he was in the pool, didn’t it strike you as
strange that he wasn’t there?” asked Mme. Storey.

“No. This is his yacht. He can go where he pleases on it.”

“Did anyone see you return to your room?”

“No. Celia was still asleep in her room.”

“What was it that you wanted to see Horace about so urgently?” asked Mme.
Storey mildly.

“None of your business!” retorted Sophie.

“Oh, Mother!” murmured Celia in distress. “We have nothing to hide!”

“Certainly I have nothing to hide! But that woman has no authority over
me!”

Mme. Storey glanced at Les Farman. He said calmly: “Mrs. Dare, I am the
master of this ship, and as long as we are at sea I have absolute authority
over everybody on board. I am supporting Mme. Storey in this investigation,
and I direct you to answer her questions.”

“And what if I defy you, too?” snapped Sophie.

He coolly faced her out.

“I will lock you up, and turn you over to the police when we reach
port.”

Sophie wilted somewhat.

“I don’t mind answering any proper question, but I won’t be
brow-beaten!…It’s no great matter anyhow. After that ugly scene in the
lounge last night, I just wanted to find out how Horace was. It was just a
friendly impulse.”

“Friendly!” cried Adrian with a wild laugh. “Oh, my God!”

Mme. Storey said to Sophie: “I have one more question to ask you. When
Celia told you that she was in love with Emil, why did you tell her that if
she kept it secret for a little while, everything would come out all
right?”

Sophie was taken by surprise. Her eyes rolled in a terrified fashion.

“I didn’t…I didn’t—” she stammered.

“It is useless to lie,” said Mme. Storey deprecatingly. “For Celia told me
at the time, and I’m sure you don’t want to force her to lie now.”

“I was only thinking of her happiness,” faltered Sophie. “I would never
force my child into a loveless marriage.”

Adrian laughed again.

“You and Celia are practically without means, I understand,” said Mme.
Storey relentlessly. “Emil has made a reputation artistically, but he is far
from reaching the point where he can cash in on it. How did you think they
were going to live?”

Sophie was stumped. “That’s nobody’s business,” she muttered.

“Believe me,” said Mme. Storey mildly, “it is easier to answer such
questions here than it will be in court. For your own sake and for Celia’s, I
advise you to speak frankly.”

Sophie appeared to come to a sudden resolution. “Well, I will!” she said
hardily. “When I heard of the plot against Horace’s life, and when I saw how
he acted on board, raising up enemies in everybody, I thought it quite
unlikely that he would live long. That’s why I held him to his promise to
make a will in Celia’s favour. And that’s the sole reason why I told her that
if she waited, things would probably come out all right!”

Celia was shocked by this admission. “Oh, Mother!” she murmured.

“From the moment she got that will out of him, Horace was doomed!” cried
Adrian. “She was here when he died! I demand that she be locked up!”

Things looked bad for Sophie. She had been caught in several lies. Her
nerve failed her. She looked around in a terrified fashion and began to weep
helplessly. “I didn’t! I didn’t!” she faltered. “Everybody is against
me.”

“Look at her!” cried Adrian. “She’s found out! Lock her up!”

“One moment,” said Mme. Storey dryly. “Let us go a little further into
this.” She turned to me.

“Bella, as I understand it, you got down here about ten minutes to eight,
or say, quarter of an hour after Sophie says she left. Did you see any water
on the floor except the one splash that you have described?”

“No.”

“You told me that you dived into the water. Was the diving-board wet?”

I shivered at the thought of that dive. “No, it was dry,” I said.

“That bears out Mrs. Dare’s story,” she said coolly. “Horace had been in
the pool for half an hour before she got here. It is not conceivable that he
sat here doing nothing. It was his custom, as you all know, to dive
repeatedly from the board. He climbed out by the ladder to the right of the
board. Well, if there was no water on that side, and if the board itself was
dry, it proves that he never entered the water until he fell, or was pushed
in dead, to the left of the board. That must have been before Sophie got
here.”

What a change in Adrian’s and Sophie’s face when they heard this. Sophie
began to weep afresh, but these were tears of relief.

“Oh, Rosika!” she sobbed. “I thought you were against me!”

“I am neither for nor against anybody here,” said Mme. Storey mildly. “I
just want to get to the bottom of this business.”

Sophie quickly dried her tears, and turned to Adrian truculently. “What
I’d like to know is,” she said, “how you knew I was down here this morning
unless you were here yourself!”

“Nothing to it!” retorted Adrian. “You know very well that I was locked
up!”

“So you say!”

“We will go into that later,” put in Mme. Storey. “Just now I want to
examine the floor of the pool.”

This called our attention to the fact that it was almost empty. It had a
sloping bottom and the water had receded to the deepest part under the
diving-board. Mme. Storey walked around the edge, keenly searching over the
black tiles that lined it, and we followed her, unable to contain our
curiosity.

Not until the water had been completely drawn off did she find what she
was looking for. Then with a slight exclamation she pointed to a small bright
object shining against its black background. It lay below the spot where I
had found the water splashed on the floor. We went down on our knees to get a
closer view. Everybody simultaneously recognised what it was, and a horrified
whisper went round:

“A hypodermic needle!”

Mme. Storey went down the ladder to the bottom of the pool. “Before I
touch this thing,” she said, “I want you to notice that the plunger is
pressed all the way down. Whatever poison this needle may have contained, was
discharged before it was thrown into the water.”