Murder Afloat by Ruby Riverton

Author:Ruby Riverton [Riverton, Ruby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BookMarks

After a somewhat long and awkward dinner, where I note Mr. Tewksbury surveys my every move, we at last break for drinks and dancing in the Lounge. I seize my moment to talk with the inspector privately, drawing myself close to him. “So, you didn’t mention when we met before, you being an inspector.” I raise a curious eyebrow.

“Oh, yes, that,” he bobbles, then looks away sheepishly. “I believe you were in quite a hurry at the time.”

“I was,” I say. “But I did afford you time enough to introduce yourself properly, and you purposely left it out. Why?” I tilt my head, and he frowns.

“My goodness, you don’t miss a beat, do you?”

“No. I rather pride myself on being perceptive.” I stir my drink and raise a brow.

In the background, the band begins warming up. Strings, horns, and a piano plunk holes in our conversation.

“So, I take it you are in service to this ship then, in some capacity?” I ask, stirring my drink. “Is that why the casual dress of uniform?” I glance again at his attire.

“No,” he says. “I’m not with this ship. Not in any formal capacity, at least. However, I do hold rank within the police back in England.” He looks at his feet.

“With Scotland Yard?” I ask, a little more excited than I should.

“Yes,” he answers, still studying the floorboards. “Or at least I was,” he mutters.

“What was that?”

He looks up abruptly, his eyes stark. “I have been an inspector, yes. A DCI, actually.”

A Detective Chief Inspector. Murder, then… How exciting.

“Wait.” I frown. “So you have been. Does that mean you no longer are?”

He sighs as if growing tired of answering me. “I’m not in service at the present time, no,” he tells me flatly.

Hmmmm … I wonder why?

The smooth lines of his formerly attractive face now appear to be pinched, and he studies his shoes again. I sense there is a story here that he’d rather not tell me, but my curiosity gets the better of me. “So, am I to presume than that you were once an inspector but no longer are?” I gaze up into his face, backlit by the yellow glow of the massive chandelier that hangs above our heads.

He looks up, scowling. “My goodness, for just having met me you are forthcoming with the questions.”

“Is that a problem?” I ask. “My asking you questions?” I quirk an eyebrow.

He lets out a long sigh. “If you must know, I am currently on an extended leave.”

Oh, see, now that’s not going to get me to stop asking questions.

Because if he’s not actively an inspector, he won’t be much good to us. I bite my lip, then try again. “So, you’re on a leave, but you will be returning?”

He draws in a breath and looks back at his shoes.

My goodness. It’s a simple question.

He looks up at the walls, the windows, the curtains, anything to not look at me. I await his answer patiently as he stares far off across the dance floor then shifts his gaze back to me sharply.

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