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) 📗

active killer but a frightened lonely man who felt threatened could easily push someone over a rail without meaning to. Didn’t you notice that ornately-wrought ring on his hand? That could easily have caused the scratch under Jose’s chin. No, I’m not taking Arvin off my list of suspects just yet.”

“Well, he isn’t coming back to the ship, Polly, so even if it was him, he’s beyond your reach now.”

“Not necessarily. Deduction, evidence, a process of elimination could still point to Arvin but I take your point, he is an unlikely culprit.”

“What do we do now?” Freda asked, “There are no other suspects.”

“We go over what we know and we think,” Pauline said, but her disappointment over Arvin’s apparent innocence was crushing.

It was Pedro and Rod all over again. Another dead-end and even less hope of a solution this time than last. Arvin really was the obvious candidate, not for murder, but to be the one involved. The Jose she was beginning to see better now would have found Arvin a much easier, softer target than the physically strong, and mentally aggressive, Rod, or even the kind, weak, Pedro who was despite all that, also fit and healthy. Neither of them would be an easy target to attack, even for someone as aggressive as Jose, as she now thought of him. But Arvin had fitted the bill perfectly.

16

Espanola Island, Gardner Bay

Another wet landing, which they all now managed with the panache of Indiana Jones, and a short wade through the surf onto the colorful sand of Gardner Bay. The beach was everything the guide said it would be with sand ranging from the purest white through golden, green, red and even black, the result of lava erosion through the centuries. It was a beautiful beach with warm water, and thanks to the National Park regulations, no one was on it. Pauline and Freda tried capturing the subtle colors with their cameras, hoping they would come out when the film was processed.

Today, they’d chosen the beach-walking option to start with the possibility of snorkeling off the beach later if they chose. There was no organized hike, everyone was free to explore on their own, enjoying the silence, broken only by the soft breeze and waves on the shore.

Once they were away from the rest of the group, and after a long silence that seemed it would never end, Freda asked, “Are you still thinking it’s Arvin?”

Pauline shook her head. “No,” she said, “he was the most likely suspect in my mind but your kind, yet effective, interrogation rules him out as well. It’s very frustrating, no one is completely cleared and yet none of them seem to have done it.”

“What do the others think?”

Pauline smiled. “I thought you weren’t taking an interest anymore.”

“I’m just making conversation. Wandering along without a word spoken can get very tedious sometimes, Polly.”

“Sorry,” Pauline said. “When I’m focused on a case, I lose track of everything else. It’s okay when I’m home. I have the house to myself. I forget that I’m not home sometimes.”

“Honestly, Pauline. Forget Arvin. If there was ever a time when he might have given himself away, it was while he was injured. Even more so when the medics gave him painkillers. He didn’t do it. Give it up.”

“You’re probably right,” Pauline said, “but you can see how this looks to me. As you said, I pushed others to consider Jose’s death a murder, and now I haven’t a credible suspect left.”

“It’s your own fault,” Freda said.

“Not entirely, Freddie, dear. As I recall, you became quite eager to have me take the case so you could help me.”

Freda blushed, enough to be visible even with her sunburned face. “I was caught up in the excitement at first,” she admitted.

“And now it’s almost over?”

“What do you mean, almost? This is our last big island stop. Tomorrow, we have one small call into Santa Cruz and then the boat sails back to the mainland. What is there to change what we know now?”

Pauline frowned. “There’s still Señor X.”

“Stop being silly, Pauline. You can’t just invent people when you need them.”

Pauline laughed. “Says the woman with three grown children.”

“That’s different. We didn’t invent them to pin a murder on them.”

“True,” Pauline agreed, “and you’re right. I shall tell the others at tonight’s meeting that I’m happy to call it an accident and it will all be over.”

“Please do. Don’t prevaricate. Be clear. Have the captain announce it on the PA. Make this whole sad story over. I want to sleep soundly in my bed. I don’t want to be wedging my bedroom door shut for the rest of my life.”

Pauline smiled mischievously. “But Freddie, if you had given up believing in a murderer all those days ago, why are you still jamming your cabin door shut?”

“Because you make everything so plausible,” Freda replied, crossly. “I couldn’t bring myself to stop.”

“Then, for your sake, I will end this tonight. Now, come on, let’s get back to the group before they call out the coastguard and come looking for us.”

“Gladly,” Freda said, “anything to get away from these insects and this infernal heat.”

At the landing site, they found the others all waiting to be returned to the ship. They’d also returned to the comfort of the water’s edge, where the insects were less numerous, the heat tamed by a sea breeze.

“I’ve decided to swim,” Pauline said. “Are you coming?”

“I’m not sure we’ll get our costumes dry before we have to pack,” Freda said.

“We have plenty of time. If we don’t swim there’s nothing to do but go back to the boat,” Pauline took the snorkel tube and goggles the guide offered and turned back to the beach.

Freda sighed. “I’m coming,” she said, “but I’m staying near the beach. You can go out there with the others, if you wish,” she pointed to the bobbing heads about three hundred yards from shore, “but I’m not.”

Pauline didn’t reply. When they’d undressed down to their swimsuits, they waded