The Moonlit Murders: A historical mystery page-turner (A Fen Churche Mystery Book 3) by Fliss Chester (best ereader for pc .txt) 📗

gift, it opened. Fen found herself gazing in wonder at what a first-class cabin looked like. Unlike hers, it didn’t have the steel rivets and bolts visible, if painted over, but instead was lined with wooden veneer panels, and the three portholes that overlooked the ocean were neatly framed by proper curtains, complete with pelmet boards and tie-backs. Eloise had a large, wooden bed, unlike the metal one in Fen’s room, and it was upholstered so that one could sit up in bed in complete comfort.

In fact, the whole cabin was a masterclass in comfortable travel, from the thick-pile rugs that covered the wooden floorboards, the luxuriously plump armchair in a co-ordinating fabric, to the bedhead and the separate but en-suite bathroom, complete with art deco tub and theatre-dressing-room-style light-edged mirror above the pretty porcelain basin.

Fen had to close her mouth as it fell open at the sight of such luxury. It was hardly surprising that James had wanted to stay on board and travel the oceans if he too had a cabin like this. The only slightly down-to-earth part of the whole opulent set-up was that Fen noticed that Eloise’s stockings, probably the new ones she’d bought in Southampton, were drying over the edge of the basin. Even heiresses had to wash their own nylons around here.

Fen was picturing Eloise washing her undies while wearing fabulous jewels when a thought crossed her mind. Stockings… Genie had been killed with a pair just like this. Fen cautiously stepped out of the bathroom, not entirely sure she liked the way her mind was working. The thought had occurred to her earlier and now again, but why would Eloise kill Genie?

A flash of red caught her eye and Fen missed a breath, but realised it was only Genie’s boa, the one Eloise had left Genie’s cabin in the night Ernst Fischer was killed. The night the jewels went missing…

Eloise had said that she’d been taking photographs of the moon that night as she couldn’t sleep and that thought was clamouring for attention in Fen’s mind and right now she didn’t know why.

She gently pulled the wardrobe door open. It was a proper full-size wardrobe, unlike the one in her cabin, and Eloise had so much in the way of clothes hanging up that Fen could barely see the back of the cupboard door. She couldn’t help herself and reached out to touch the textures of the wool coats and silk blouses. She was about to shut the door when a voice behind her startled her out of her skin.

37

‘No luck in the costume box,’ Eloise said, and Fen turned to see her, her hand subconsciously rising to her throat. Eloise laughed. ‘I’m so sorry, Fen, didn’t mean to scare you. Find anything you like? Those stockings we bought in Southampton have been a godsend. Did you know I ruined my only other pair the night I saw that German guy.’

Relieved that she didn’t seem to be in the doghouse for nosing around Eloise’s cabin, Fen replied, ‘Such a shame. Good nylons are such an expense. Sorry, by the way, for letting myself in.’

‘I should learn to keep my door locked.’ Eloise gestured to the armchair and Fen sat down, appreciating the plump upholstery, while Eloise sat down on her bed. ‘Anyway, want to know what I found in the prop basket?’

‘Oh yes, rather.’ Fen leant forward.

‘Uniforms, epaulettes, buttons, caps, helmets. That must have been one helluva production of HMS Pinafore, and after that, one helluva party.’ Eloise slumped back on the bed, as if the exhaustion of looking through all the costumes was only now coming over her. ‘Honestly, Fen, Genie could have taken anything from that dressing-up disaster zone and no one would ever know.’

Fen sighed. ‘Oh well. It was only a thought that perhaps the murderer would have left it there. I wondered if she’d grappled with her killer and, as she did, ripped off his epaulette.’

‘Maybe she did.’ Eloise shrugged. ‘But it’s circumstantial evidence, even I can see that.’

‘And Spencer himself implied that Genie could be a bit light-fingered. I’d hoped that perhaps, if we could prove it had come from a real uniform, you know if none of the costume ones were missing anything… but then…’

‘He may well have killed her in jealousy,’ Eloise finished off Fen’s thought. ‘Whichever way you look at it, Spencer’s definitely looking like the prime suspect.’

It was Fen’s turn to shrug. Then she caught sight of the boa again. ‘Something to remember her by. Will you keep it?’

‘Oh, I hadn’t thought. Perhaps it’s a bit ghoulish of me to do so.’ Eloise pushed her way up to sitting and then stood up and walked towards the wardrobe. She unhooked the boa from behind the door and passed it to Fen. ‘Do you want it? I don’t think Aunt M approves and I need all the credit she can extend to me at the moment.’

‘Why’s that?’ Fen’s natural curiosity sometimes got in the way of her manners and the frown that had passed across Eloise’s face reminded her of that.

Eloise didn’t seem to want to dwell on it though and she immediately changed the subject. ‘Oh, nothing really. Look, I’m famished. Lunch?’

‘Why not,’ Fen agreed, wondering why some people said such leading things and then didn’t follow through with an explanation as she pushed herself up and out of the plush chair, still holding Genie’s red boa. ‘Lovely cabin, by the way,’ she observed as Eloise popped into the bathroom to check her hair and make-up. ‘A lot smarter than mine and heaps more space.’

‘It’s roomy for sure,’ Eloise agreed. ‘But that wardrobe is literally all the storage space you get. No hidey-holes or even a bedside cabinet. It’s all this art deco furniture with too many curves to be practical.’

‘So both you and your aunt kept your jewellery boxes in your wardrobes? I think that’s what your aunt said, wasn’t it?’ Fen looked at the wood-veneered door that connected the cabins.

Eloise came out of