Murder Above the Silver Waves Page 4

  I frowned, a mixture of anger and embarrassment still washing through me, like the swell and ebb of the tide. Still, I recognized that my twin spoke sense. There was nothing I could do about what everyone else may or may not think of us, at this point.

  “Now, why don’t we take the long way around to the theater,” Felix suggested, holding his arm out to me. “No one will question why we did not arrive with the McDonoughs, I assure you.”

  I had nothing left to say. For all his faults, my brother could be irritatingly reasonable, when he wanted to be. “Fine,” I said, sliding my arm into the crook of his. “Let’s go, then.”

  The idea of walking the long way around the ship to reach the theater had annoyed me at first, but as we walked, I began to see that this might have been the best choice for me at the time. It allowed me a chance to cool down, like an ember someone had forgotten to stoke. Felix did not speak, leaving me to wrestle with my own thoughts. It was better that way, we both knew. If he interfered, the same arguments would rise up and gain strength as opposed to fizzling away.

  After some time, when we had rounded the back of the ship and began to make our way up the starboard side, he gave my hand an affectionate pat. Perhaps he felt the lessening of the tension in my hand gripping his arm, or heard the steadying of my breathing. Regardless, I was hardly surprised he could sense when I was calmer. He knew me better than anyone else.

  “We will be making it in perfect time for the concert,” he said, checking the gold watch that Father had given him before we had departed. “See? A walk is just what we needed, I think.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Thank you, Felix.”

  Night had settled over the Atlantic, the moon large overhead, casting long stretches of milky light across the water as dark as ink. Millions of stars gleamed in the deep indigo sky. If Felix had not been with me, I might have drifted to the side to stare out over the vast expanse, consumed with its immense breadth and my own insignificance amongst it all.

  With his free hand, Felix pulled something from the inside of his coat, a small pamphlet with the itinerary of the day’s events aboard the ship, and began to look over it. “It seems as if tomorrow we will have the pleasure of seeing the artist Marie Englewood painting on the Promenade. Just after lunch.”

  I only half paid attention to him. We had drawn near to the middle of the ship, where many of the lifeboats were hung in case of emergencies.

  It was not the lifeboats that caught my eye, but the silhouette of a man standing between two of them, as if he might have been examining them.

  I suppose it is protocol to check them frequently. One never knows when they might be needed…

  Something was strange, though. It was as if the man had a broken back, with a large growth in front of him.

  Felix prattled on beside me about the other activities available for the remainder of our voyage, and so he did not see the figure.

  I squinted in the dark. The man took slow, struggling steps toward the side of the ship. I realized he must have been carrying something heavy, though I could not make out what it was.

  Just before we passed behind one of weight-supporting pillars, I saw the man heave the heavy weight up and over the side of the ship.

  My heart skipped several beats.

  In the darkness and the shadows, it had almost seemed like the silhouette of a human body being thrown overboard.

  I blinked repeatedly, my mind quickly working through what I had seen, as Felix and I continued walking.

  There was no way that it could really have been a body. It simply was not possible.

  And yet, I could not forget the shape of the man’s frame. As tall and lean as he had been…a very particular person came to mind. But that was someone it could not have been, which made me think the whole thing was nothing at all like the madness my mind was attempting to concoct.

  Mr. Eugene Osbourn, the famous pianist.

  I shook my head, forcing the thought away.

  It couldn’t be. Mr. Osbourn was blind, after all. He could not have done something like that, throwing something so heavy overboard. In the same sense, I knew full well that it could not have been a human body the mysterious figure had carried. The darkness had simply played tricks with my eyes. All the tension from dinner was surely lingering. That was the best explanation.

  It had to be something else. That was all there was to it.

  “Are you all right?” Felix asked. “You have become tense all of a sudden.”

  “Oh,” I said with a laugh that sounded more nervous than I had intended. “I am perfectly fine. Perfectly fine.”

  He looked more intently at me, the opposite reaction to what I wanted. “Lillian, is this about earlier? Or is it something else?”

  “It’s nothing,” I said. “Really, Felix. You worry too much.”

  He stopped walking, and I turned to look at him.

  “Lil,” he said. “I don’t know why you ever try to lie to me. You’re so terrible at it that I always know when something’s wrong.”

  “Honestly, Felix, it was nothing,” I said. “I think my eyes must be playing tricks on me, because I thought I saw a man with a growth on his front like the shell of a turtle. One of the crewmen back there was tending to the lifeboats, and I suppose seeing his strangely shaped shadow startled me. That’s all.”

  What other possibility could there be? I have simply allowed my imagination to run wild, and now I will surely have nightmares about some ridiculous notion that crept up from the shadows.

  Felix looked amused by my imaginings. “All right,” he said after a moment, with a shrug. “It’s easy to be mistaken in the dark.”

  “Right,” I said, and I fell into step beside him as we continued on toward the theater.

  He remained quiet for the remainder of our walk, but worry continued to gnaw at my stomach.

  I was imagining it all, wasn’t I? There could be no other explanation, surely…

  Felix pulled open the door to the inner decks of the ship, and the warmth and sounds of life and people greeted us. We made our way down the hall, and when I glanced over at Felix, he returned my look with a cheerful smile.

  He has already forgotten the matter. Why can’t I?

  The entrance to the theater appeared, the large doors flanked by velvet curtains that matched those lining the walls near the stage. Guests mingled outside, while others streamed in over the threshold.

  “Where would you like to sit this evening?” Felix asked. “In the balcony again? Or – ”

  A loud crackle drowned out my brother’s voice, filling every inch of space in the hall. It only took me a moment to realize that the speakers lining the walls had come to life.

  “Attention all passengers,” said a loud, authoritative voice following the ear-splitting crackles. “This is Captain Bartow speaking. I am sorry to inform you…that we have a man overboard.”

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  No.

  Surely, I had heard him incorrectly.

  “I would ask that everyone remain calm,” Captain Bartow continued on.

  “How dreadful,” said a woman who had followed Felix and me to the theater doors.

  “Overboard? How could that have happened?” asked a man within earshot.

  “It is not even tumultuous weather,” said another.

  “The crew members of this vessel are trained for such emergencies…” said the captain’s voice, still echoing through the speakers.

  “I wonder how it happened,” Felix said in a low voice to me.

  I said nothing.

  It was as if my heart had turned to living ice. It pounded away, but the terrible chill that it left as it pulsed down my arms, down my legs, made me shiver.

  Maybe I was not imagining things. Could this be about what I saw out on deck?

  The captain’s announcement continued. “We are going to be turning the ship around to conduct a search for the fallen passenger. Meanwhile, the rest of the evening’s activities have been canceled and all passengers are asked to return to their cabins – ”

  “Really? Why can they not search while allowing us to enjoy the evening?” complained a man behind me.

  “They likely want to make sure there is nothing suspicious about the whole thing,” said another in reply.

  Felix glanced over his shoulder at the man. “Suspicious? What do you mean?”

  The nearest man shrugged. “Someone could have shoved the fellow overboard, for all we know.”

  Felix stiffened beside me.

  “Let’s head back to our cabin,” I said, a little louder than usual, so other passengers might hear and follow the suggestion as well. “Surely they will find the poor soul soon and we can continue on our journey…”

  I tugged my brother along down the hall, glancing briefly at the placard at the corner indicating the direction of our cabins.

  “So that’s it? The concert is canceled, just like that?” asked a girl no older than ten, accompanying a woman who must have been her mother. “But I wanted to hear the man play the piano!”

  Felix said nothing more as we continued on to our cabin. It seemed that most of the passengers were listening to the captain’s instructions, though as we circled around the lounge next door to the dining room, it was clear that some of the men sitting within, smoking their cigars, had little regard for the person who had fallen over the side.

  Not fallen. Was thrown.

  I shook my head. I cannot be sure of that, no matter what I thought I saw.

  When we reached our cabin, I allowed Felix to open the door, and followed him in without a word.

  He closed the door, and I let out a long, heavy sigh.

  “Well, that was certainly a disappointment,” I said, adopting a casual tone to hide my nervousness. I planted my hands on my hips as I turned on the spot, surveying our small, shared living space. “I, for one, was looking forward to the music.”

  “You knew,” Felix said in a low voice.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, not meeting his eyes. If I didn’t allow myself to dwell on it, perhaps this unreal feeling and the memory of what I had seen would somehow go away.

  Felix turned, his hand falling to his side. “You knew…” he repeated. “That is what you were lying to me about when we were out on deck. You saw it happen! That’s why you made that comment about your eyes playing tricks on you.”

  Like a rabid dog, worry chomped down on my heart. “I – I didn’t see – ”

  Felix strode past me, running his hands through his hair.

  I hurried after him. “Felix, how could I possibly have known that was what I was witnessing?” I asked.

  He rounded on me. “Exactly what did you see?”

  “That’s what I don’t know!” I said. “It was dark. Incredibly so. I thought I was seeing things that weren’t there – ”

  “We have to tell someone,” he said, snaking around me and heading back to the door. “Someone needs to hear what you saw.”

  “There is no point,” I said.

  He stopped and turned to look at me. “Have you lost your mind?” he asked. “If you could help them to locate this person, give them the precise place and time – ”

  “Felix, they announced that a man had been lost overboard mere minutes after I saw it,” I said. “Which very likely means that someone else witnessed the poor man being thrown overboard as well, perhaps from a deck or two above. They would have then had to go to the captain and inform him. So, there is no point in my going to report what is already known. I would only be in the way.”

  Felix frowned, but I could see that he was considering my words, as he moved to sit down on the narrow sofa along the wall.

  I sank down onto the chair opposite him.

  “What did you see? Exactly?” he asked me again.

  I tried to swallow but I could hardly do so with how tight my throat had become. “I saw a man willingly carry himself to the edge of the ship and throw himself over,” I said.

  My twin glared at me.

  I returned it. “What did you expect me to say?”

  “The truth would be refreshing,” Felix said. “I’ve told you before that I can always tell when you’re lying.”

  I folded my hands in my lap, chasing my thumbs around one another. He was right, of course, but I couldn’t escape the feeling that, if only I didn’t admit it aloud, what I had seen would somehow go away.

  I said, “Well, I might have seen…It’s possible that the figure I saw carried someone to the edge and dropped them over the side.”

  “Dropped?” Felix asked.

  “It was dark,” I said. “I do not know if I can be certain about anything – ”

  “Stop dancing around it,” Felix said. “Did you see someone shove a man overboard?”

  “I think I might have,” I admitted.

  “Then we must go and tell someone,” Felix said, his brow furrowing. “This will change everything. It will mean what happened was more than an unfortunate accident, it was a murder…”

  “My word would mean hardly anything,” I pointed out. “You and I would become entangled in the business for nothing, and I know I don’t have to remind you that neither of us can afford to be entangled in any scandals right now. Like I said, there would be no point. They would ask what I saw, and all I could tell them is that it looked as if someone was struggling with something heavy, and the shape of the heavy object looked something like a body – ”

  “Looked something like it?” Felix asked, his forehead wrinkling.

  “How many times must I tell you that I am not at all certain what I saw?” I asked, becoming exasperated. “For all I know, what I saw was not even the person who was lost overboard. It could have been garbage or something being tossed out from the kitchens. Perhaps I was allowing my imagination to get the better of me.”

  Felix scratched his ear, his jaw working.

  “Regardless, we have already begun to turn around,” I said. “The man who fell might well be rescued within the hour.”

  “That’s if he has not yet been swallowed by a wave,” Felix said. “You do realize how dark it is out there in the water at night, don’t you?”

  “No, I assumed it was as bright as high noon,” I snapped. “Of course I know how dark it is.”

  “It will be a miracle if he is found,” Felix said. “Did you happen to see what the person who might have thrown the body overboard looked like?”

  “I am growing tired of repeating myself,” I said, my eyes narrowing. “It was dark. I could hardly see anything.”

  “I assume the person you saw was male?” he asked.

  “As far as I could tell, yes,” I said. “I’ve seen a few women with legs that long, but the general way he carried himself was like a man.”

  “There was nothing significant about his form?”

  “No,” I said. “Nothing apart from his height and his narrow waist. I couldn’t see what he was wearing, so don’t even ask.”

  “Tall, long legs, narrow waist…” Felix said. “If I didn’t know better, I might imagine it to have been the pianist on board that everyone is so interested in.”

  “Eugene Osbourn?” I asked. “It’s ironic you mention him, as I thought at the time there was a resemblance.”

  “But that is not possible,” Felix said. “The man is blind. There is no way he could have carried someone across the deck to hoist him overboard…”

  “Actually, for all we know, it very well could have been him,” I said.

  My twin looked at me, surprised. “How?”

  “I wonder if the blindness is nothing more than an act,” I said.

  He blinked at me. “You cannot be serious.”

  “I am more than serious,” I said, spreading my hands wide, palms up. “Today, when he and his sister were strolling across the Promenade, he narrowly missed a chair that he surely could have avoided only if he had seen it. I witnessed it happen.”

  Felix pursed his lips, shaking his head. “Lillian, you cannot be accusing Mr. Osbourn of being, not only a murderer, but a fraud, as well?”

  “Allow me to remind you that only a few moments ago, you suggested that my description sounded like him,” I said, annoyed.

  “I said it sounded a great deal like him,” he said. “But any number of people on this ship could match your description.”

  “Oh?” I snorted. “Well, go on, then. Name one other person that it might have been. Just one that comes to mind. I’ll wait.”

  Felix glared at me, and I groaned in exasperation. “Felix, I am not accusing Mr. Osbourn of anything. All I have said is that I found it strange how he so easily missed that chair, how effortlessly he avoided the obstacle in his path.”

  “That is only one event,” Felix said. “You cannot determine anything based off such a small thing.”

  “No, but I can certainly question it and be suspicious,” I retorted.

  A moment of silence passed between us, and I sighed. I could tell by my brother’s expression that the situation was worrying him.

  “Look, I am sorry for not telling you the truth about what I saw out there on deck, when I saw it,” I said. “I am just as startled by all of this as you. Perhaps we should stop dwelling on it. After all, it’s not as if we can do anything.”

  I got to my feet. “I am going to go out and find us something to eat,” I said. “We didn’t have dessert with our dinner and I think we could use something sweet.”

  “You cannot leave,” Felix said, looking up at me. “The captain has asked everyone to remain in their cabins for the evening, so the crew can focus on finding the man overboard.”

  “We cannot possibly be expected to starve,” I said, my brow furrowing. “I am certain they will have something available down in the lounge or the dining room.”

  “Fine,” Felix said. “But do not go gossiping about any of this with the other passengers. I will not have you telling me that we need to avoid the subject, only for you to go out and do the very opposite. Unless you plan on telling the captain what you saw, I suggest you say nothing.”