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) 📗
- Author: P.C. James
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“At least it’s warm here,” Freda said.
“After our beach walk, I’d have preferred cooler,” Pauline replied, “but it’s pleasant to be out of the sun and the flies.”
As they swam, a turtle rose beside them, its glassy eye examining them intently.
“They don’t eat meat, do they?” Freda asked, anxiously.
“You’re the one who watches Jacques Cousteau, Freddie,” Pauline said. “You tell me.”
“I’m sure they don’t,” Freda said, “but maybe we should turn around in case.”
“I think it wants us to feed it,” Pauline said, as the turtle kept pace.
“I’m going in,” Freda said, heading back to the beach.
Pauline laughed. “You came to see the animals,” she mocked her sister.
When Freda waded out of the water, Pauline knew she wasn’t coming back. Placing the goggles over her face and gripping the snorkel tube between her teeth, Pauline swam on watching the turtle’s effortless underwater paddling as it swam alongside.
As she approached a rocky reef, the sea life grew bigger. Small colorful fish gave way to larger even more brightly colored ones. A small ray flapped lazily along the sandy bottom below, when her shadow, and that of her turtle companion, passed over it. Cruising along the reef, she could see waving sea weeds and, she suspected, the lures of predators. As she was too big for any of them to consider lunch, they were of interest rather than fear. Her companion, however, saw the weeds as lunch and bit off pieces as they continued their journey. Pauline began to wonder if she was going to have to take the turtle home with her. It was like a stray cat or dog following her.
A small shark slithered through the water ahead of her. While she knew it wasn’t dangerous, she felt it was a reminder there were things farther out that were dangerous. She waved goodbye to her turtle friend, hoping it understood this signal, and turned back toward the beach. For a moment, she thought it was going to follow. Then, with a graceful flick of its flippers, it set out toward the sea. Pauline felt she’d been abandoned.
“I wanted to let the sun dry my costume before I put my clothes back on,” Freda said, when Pauline joined her on the beach.
Pauline nodded. “A few minutes in this sun will do that for us,” she said.
“I’m dry already.” Freda said, shaking the sand out of her Polo shirt and pulling it over her head.
“I loved the giant tortoises,” Pauline remarked, “but I swear they didn’t even know we were there. That turtle is now my favorite. I know it sounds crazy,” she continued, “but I felt connected to it in a way I haven’t with any of the other creatures here.”
“You’re imagining things,” Freda said.
“I expect you’re right,” Pauline replied, placing her sun hat over her face to have a moment’s respite from the sun.
“We saw lots more interesting things this morning.”
“But they didn’t walk a little way with me through this vale of tears, Freddie. That’s the thing.”
Freda shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I think you need to lie down in a dark cabin with a cold compress on your head before you go any more nuts,” she said.
“Then let’s go back to the ship and eat first. I’ll carry my clothes and change on board.”
To Pauline, the evening briefing with Ferguson, Hidalgo and Somerville was equally crushing. There was no new information from the mainland and when Pauline shared what Freda had learned from Arvin, there was a general almost audible sigh of relief.
“I think we’ve done all we need to do to satisfy the company, Miss Riddell,” Captain Ferguson said.
“I agree,” Somerville added. “There never was much doubt it was an accident, though we don’t know the exact course of events that led to it, but Arvin Weiss was the only remaining candidate for murderer.”
As this was what she’d expected to hear when she’d told them, Pauline wasn’t surprised by their eagerness to wrap this up.
“The suspects we had are none of them truly cleared, gentlemen, and I can’t see any plausible chain of events that would have led Jose to fall backwards over that gate so I can’t altogether give this up,” Pauline said, then throwing her promise to Freda overboard, continued, “I’d like us to give Señor Hidalgo and the police one more day to find something new and for us to reconsider everything we’ve heard before we finally call it a day.”
They didn’t groan out loud, Pauline was pleased to note, but she was sure they all did inwardly.
“Miss Riddell,” Hidalgo’s voice was always strange over the radio, “the police will not be investigating further. They have made that very clear to me. You can expect no new evidence from here.”
Pauline suspected Hidalgo had heard enough and was making this story up but she couldn’t blame him or any of them. It really was a waste of everyone’s time. Something happened to Jose but what that was wouldn’t come out of this investigation.
“And we’ve gone over this every night for a week now, Miss Riddell,” Somerville said. “The investigation is over. There’s no compelling evidence that supports your theory and the evidence that you’ve highlighted has now been thoroughly investigated and, if not discredited, at least found not to be damning of anyone. I don’t want to waste any more of my, or anyone else’s time on it. Captain?”
“I agree, Detective. I’m sorry, Miss Riddell. Knowing of your expertise, your initial belief of murder made me persuade the company to initiate this investigation. Now, however, I don’t see any need to take this further. Do you?”
Pauline hesitated. Then she said, “Very well. I hope you will announce this to the crew and passengers, Captain, for I know many people are frightened at the thought of a murderer on board. You will set many minds at rest if you do that.”
“Certainly, I’ll do that. I know the crew are anxious to hear
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