It's Murder, On a Galapagos Cruise: An Amateur Female Sleuth Historical Cozy Mystery (Miss Riddell C by P.C. James (the best ebook reader for android TXT) 📗

When the translator had finished speaking, the men shook their heads. They spoke and Pauline could at least understand, “Lima.”

“Did he say what had happened to him in his life that he was anxious about or anything in his present circumstances?” Pauline asked.

The men shook their heads when the translator put the question to them.

“Are any of you anxious in your present circumstances? After all, the events unfolding in your country right now are awful.”

Again, the men shook their heads.

Pauline and Somerville glanced at each other.

“Gentlemen, thank you,” Somerville said.

All four men filed out of the cabin and Somerville closed the door behind them.

“What did you think?” he asked.

“Maybe they were telling the truth,” Pauline said, “but, I think there’s something there and, as with Arvin, two of them can’t provide an alibi.”

“That’s how I feel too,” Somerville said. “They’re unlikely to have had anything to do with it but it’s not impossible, or even improbable. We heard nothing that would conclusively rule them out.”

“We need the company to find out if all three really do come from Lima and not the south. And we need to know if Jose spent time in Lima after escaping the south and leaving Peru. We can’t just take these people’s words.”

“Agreed,” Somerville said.

Captain Ferguson took down the information they required and had the questions radioed to the company’s head office.

“On a happier note,” Ferguson said, “did you enjoy this morning’s excursion? Were you on the boat ride or the snorkeling?”

“I did the boat ride,” Pauline said. “I didn’t think I would enjoy it but I really did. I may even have some good photos. I hope so anyway. The guide told us our next stop, Fernandina, is an island of newly hardened lava rock. That sounds different.”

“Yes, Fernandina is a barren place,” Ferguson said. “There you’ll see how all these islands began. Later, when you visit the other islands you’ll see how life turns barren rock into habitable land. It’s fascinating. The other, older, islands have a good covering of vegetation and even good soil. I visited here on a number of occasions during my years at sea. You know it was an old haunt of pirates and whalers before civilization caught up with the region.”

“Our guides have told us,” Pauline said, smiling. “I can’t help feeling a bit nostalgic for those days when they talk about them.”

“That’s the romantic in all of us,” Ferguson said. “Like dinosaurs, pirates seem attractive, lovable even, when they’re extinct.”

Listening to their conversation, Somerville was growing impatient to leave. “I’ve one more person to interview,” he said, heading for the door.

“Who would that be?” Ferguson asked but Somerville was gone.

“I don’t know, Captain,” Pauline said. “He never mentioned this until now.”

“I fear he is torn between competing with you and collaborating with you, Miss Riddell.”

“Oh dear. I hope not.”

“And you? Have you any new thoughts on our incident?”

“Lots,” Pauline said, “but I prefer to let them stay thoughts for now. Suspicion is a dangerous emotion once it’s loose.”

9

Fernandina Island, Punta Espinoza

The zephyr bumped against the newly installed landing spot and the crewman threw a rope ashore where another crewman tied it quickly to a bollard. The zephyr was soon pulled close to the wave lashed platform where, of all people, Detective Somerville was assisting people to step out of the boat, which rose and fell dramatically in the swell.

“Miss Riddell,” Somerville said, as he clasped Pauline’s arm and steadied her, “welcome to Fernandina Island.” Pauline gave him a tight, humorless smile in reply, before asking, “Why are you helping the rest of us ashore?”

“The guys were busy. They asked and I volunteered, and they said I looked strong enough.” He laughed.

Pauline didn’t like his laugh; it sounded triumphant, but she couldn’t deny his strength was a comfort to the passengers as he brought them off the boat. When Somerville assisted Freda ashore, they made their way to where the naturalist guide was waiting.

“I feel seasick,” Freda said. “I hope we won’t be using those rubber boats at every island. They’re okay when the sea is calm but horrible when it isn’t.”

“Sometimes they use the lifeboats as tenders. I don’t know how they decide when to use which,” Pauline said. “The tour brochure only mentions wet or dry landings so it’s either this or ‘wet landings’ which, I guess, means jumping into the sea at a beach. This was a dry one, according to the brochure.”

Pauline looked about. The black lava that made up the only ground she could see was undulating and broken, with deep gullies and sharp cutting edges everywhere. It looked as she imagined a lunar landscape might. She was pleased she’d brought proper hiking boots for it would be easy to turn an ankle and anyone who fell here would be severely sliced and diced when they hit the ground.

Once the group were all gathered, the guide began to explain the geology that had brought this barren volcanic island into existence. As he spoke, Pauline saw Somerville making his way toward her. She kept her expression neutral, though her annoyance was intense.

“What have I missed?” Somerville asked.

“It’s a volcanic island,” Freda replied.

“I thought they all were,” Somerville said.

“And you’ll miss the rest if you don’t listen,” Pauline said in what she hoped was a quelling tone.

He grinned and turned to listen to the guide who was now describing the ‘colonist’ plants who began the process of occupying the barren rock and the vegetation that would come later when the ‘colonists’ had died and left enough nutrient for ‘pioneer’ plants to grow in. The guide went on to describe the iguanas and birds that lived here and those they might see today, and how some of them were used in Darwin’s theories about evolution.

Somerville’s impatience began to become obvious to people around him, as he fidgeted, twisted and turned, looking about for the highlights the guide was describing.

“You’re very impatient, Mr. Somerville,” Pauline said.

“I like to be busy.