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) 📗

He spoke quickly, which meant he was hard to understand. His accent, and the age of the listeners, created confusion and the muttering among the listeners made the message even harder to hear. For Pauline, his explanation of the predatory aggression of the frigate birds directed toward the red-billed tropic birds was all she caught and that only because it accorded with her musings about the death of Jose.

Tropicbirds had long, whip-like tail feathers that are vital to their ability to maneuver underwater in their pursuit of fish and those pirates of the avian world, frigate birds, know this. They don’t try to take the fish from the successful tropicbird, they attack its tail causing the tropicbird to drop the fish enabling the frigate bird, that can’t dive into the sea because it has no oil in its feathers, to have a fine meal of fish.

Pauline thought this natural predatory behavior was so applicable to many human societies, groups and people. But was Jose’s death the result of similar behaviors? It appeared now he wasn’t really a good man but was he like a tropicbird that failed to part with the fish it had killed? And in doing so did Jose lose his ability to survive? Was his death about the worlds of politics or criminality? She smiled to herself. She could almost hear her old friend and mentor, Inspector Ramsay, saying there was little or no difference between those two ugly worlds.

She took pictures, hoping that at least one of them caught the beautiful tropicbirds as they swooped across the face of the cliffs before diving arrow-like into the sea. They entered the water leaving barely a ripple on the surface, before rising out of the water with a silver fish wriggling in their beaks. It was breathtakingly beautiful, even in its wild savagery. The attack by the huge, ugly frigate birds that followed was equally barbarous but less beautiful. She was appalled how many times the frigate birds got the fish and how hard the tropicbirds had to work just to feed themselves and probably their families somewhere on the cliff.

Finally, when she was losing hope, she saw a blue-footed booby. She’d heard so much about them and their relations, the red-footed boobies, and had yet to see one on their excursions. She was beginning to believe it was just a sailor’s tale. As happens so often in life, no sooner had Pauline taken a picture of one blue-footed booby, she saw the rocks were practically littered with them. She took a second, and then a third, photo to be sure she’d have one photo to show the people at work when she got home.

Soon the group was moving again, Pedro was growing ever more anxious over his charges. They hadn’t gone far when a great spout of water caught everyone’s attention and they stopped again. Pedro quickly explained about the blowhole, and how the surging waves were funneled through it, before urging them back to the ship. The excited chattering and questions to Pedro passed the time quickly, which at least made the return journey seem shorter.

Back at the landing site, they discovered Arvin and the medical team had already left. Not by helicopter as Pedro had said but by a fast launch that had taken them back to the ship.

“Will he be able to continue the cruise?” one of the hikers asked Raul, who stayed behind when Arvin had left.

“I don’t think so,” Raul said. “His ankle is broken. I expect a government marine ambulance will be meeting us sometime tonight and he’ll be transferred to hospital in the capital.”

“That’s sad,” the woman said. “He will miss so much.”

Raul nodded but said, “Perhaps not so much. There’s only Gardner Bay and Cerro Hill left to see and then the voyage back to the mainland. Still, the company will find some way of helping him to complete his vacation in the future, or recompensing him, I’m sure.”

“I do hope so,” the woman said to a generous chorus of agreement.

Pauline wryly thought of the future dinner table guests who would be forced to listen to Arvin’s continual downer diatribes and was mentally glad she wouldn’t be there. She didn’t wish ill of anyone but she couldn’t help hoping the always sarcastic Rod would also be carried off with a similarly non-life-threatening injury.

The ride back to the ship and the champagne welcome was an annoyance for Pauline. What she wanted to know was if Arvin said anything to Freda that would help the investigation. If Arvin didn’t say something indiscreet when he was in pain, he never would. Sadly, from Pauline’s point of view, the guests and crew were so determined to be entertained that there was no opportunity to hear from Freda until much later.

After dinner, where the subject of Arvin’s fall and removal to the mainland was discussed endlessly, Pauline and Freda walked out onto the deck to talk privately.

“You’re quite the hero with our fellow passengers,” Pauline said, smiling.

“Nurses, like soldiers and doctors, are heroes when we’re needed – and just unseen ‘backroom boys’ when we’re not,” Freda said.

“Still, it’s nice to be appreciated,” Pauline said. “But to come to the point,” she took one last look about before continuing, “did Arvin say anything useful?”

Freda shook her head. “No! Not really. It seems he really did go straight back to his room but,” she paused, “he’s sure he saw someone on deck that night when he was walking from the lounge to his cabin.”

“A man or a woman?”

“He doesn’t know. It was just movement in the shadows and anyway, he wears glasses. Or to be precise, he has glasses but never wears them because they make him look dorky, whatever that is.”

“He didn’t hear anything, or is he deaf too?”

“He said he didn’t. Frankly, Polly, I don’t think he would hurt anyone. He’s just a frightened, lonely man whose life has been horribly shaped by the events of his childhood.”

“I wasn’t imagining him as an