S.S. Murder by Q. Patrick

Author:Q. Patrick
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road
Published: 2018-10-10T16:00:00+00:00

“Caesar’s wife!” I cried, “I’m ashamed of you, Adam Burr. When it comes to a question of virtue you are as cynical as a Paris concierge. You mistrust Earnshaw simply because his dark hair and moustache make him look like the handsome Villain of the piece. But apart from the fact that he had a perfect alibi in both cases, may I remind you that our particular villain is clean shaven—with brown hair and spectacles? As a budding young detective I am not interested in Earnshaw. I am interested only in Robinson.”

“Well, that lets me out.” said Adam cheerfully. Then he added in a serious tone: “And, as a matter of fact, the authorities are inclined to agree with you about Robinson. They are convinced that he is an impersonation—probably one of the passengers in disguise—and that he and he alone is responsible for the murder of both Betty and Mr. Lambert.”

I gave a slight shiver. “In other words, every time I sit down by a man—at table—on deck—or in the smoking room, my neighbor may be Robinson. That’s a pleasant thought!”

“Well,” replied Adam flippantly. “Here’s an idea to cheer you up. Why not turn tonight’s fancy dress dance into a Robinson party? Make everyone dress as our mysterious ‘thirteenth chair’ and give a prize for the one who looks most like him. We will be the judges. It’s more than probable that Robinson himself would get fourth place the way Charlie Chaplin once did at a Charlie Chaplin party. What are you going as, by the way?”

“I’m going as a newspaper and pray to heaven it won’t be windy. And now, if you’ve no more to tell me, I want to take a nap—in preparation for tonight and in reparation of last night.”

Adam scratched his bald pate. “You are not going to take a nap, my dear. You are going to scribblé in that infernal book of yours. And I have some more news too. What d’you think? Mrs. Clapp—the inimitable Marcia Manners—has promised to give a turn tonight. But, not a word, mind. Jennings told me as a profound secret.”

“Oh, good,” I said, rising from the chair. “If she’s anything like what she used to be, it will be a marvelous treat. Worth our passage money for that alone! Well, I’ll see you at dinner.”

Then I made my escape and fulfilled Adam’s prophecy by writing all this to you, Davy darling, when I ought really to have been sleeping.

But there’s time for a nap too.

So here goes!

On Deck.

Thursday, November 19th.

9:30 A. M.

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