Evil on the High Seas by Emily Queen

Author:Emily Queen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Willow Hill Books

CHAPTER 17

ROSEMARY EXITED THE lift and took a moment to get her bearings. Forward would lead her to the top of the grand staircase, overlooking the first-class dining saloon, but instead, she walked aft towards the ship’s midsection where guest services—configured to resemble the shopping court two levels above—acted as a separator between first and second classes.

On the port side, the barbershop and hairdresser flanked the laundry service, their window displays filled with models of all the latest hairstyles. Opposite and starboard, the purser’s desk and stewards’ bureau shared space with the correspondence station where one could send or receive a telegram at all hours of the day and night.

“Can I assist you, madam?” the clerk manning the purser’s desk asked politely, just as his counterpart on the stewards’ side turned away to return a tagged key to the rack mounted on the wall. Each little hook bore a label, and she noted idly that the stewards did indeed seem to have access to every nook and cranny of the ship.

Rosemary looked between the purser and steward and made another quick decision. She ducked inside and, after a short few minutes, emerged, significantly lighter in the absence of both the case itself and the anxiety she felt carrying it around and knowing what was inside.

A spring in her step, Rosemary was poised to turn left back towards the first-class staircase when she caught the sound of jazz music emanating from the opposite direction. It was a jaunty tune that, even in snippets, made her think of drinks and dancing in the nightclubs of London. Curious, she changed course and headed further aft towards the second-class entrance—a place she, as a first-class passenger, was quite forbidden to enter.

A little thrill ran through her. Impulsively, Rosemary glanced around, noted that none of the few nearby passengers were paying her any attention, and slipped through the corridor, down another hallway, and finally arrived in front of the second-class staircase. While less lavish than the one leading to the Grand Saloon, it was still quite impressive, its banisters carved in a similar but simpler style.

Louder now, the music called to her like a siren’s song, further piquing her curiosity and propelling her forward almost involuntarily. Rosemary wandered a bit further and peeked into the second-class lounge.

Her first impression was of dark-paneled walls with slightly less ornate trim than that in the first-class one. Also on the plainer side, the tables and chairs were still of good quality and looked comfortable.

A cheerful buzz of conversation and laughter competed with the sprightly song that had served to draw her there. Passengers danced, played games, or just lounged and chatted. The whole room carried a more relaxed atmosphere as people appeared less concerned with maintaining a level of social status than with just enjoying the voyage.

Rosemary longed to stay for another tune but knew she was pushing her luck just by being there. She turned around reluctantly and retraced her steps back towards the second-class entrance to

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