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

in his. ‘You’re hurt, Fen, come on, let’s get you in and warm. Bisset and Dodman can secure the captain. I’ve only knocked him out.’ He turned to look down at the still body of Captain Lagrande as they stepped over him. ‘I think.’

Fen could barely speak. The shock of the last few moments was making her shake all over and although she wanted to thank James again and again for saving her life, she could barely manage a squeak. With all the strength she could muster, she asked after Eloise. ‘James…. Is she safe?’

‘Eloise? Yes. I was on my way to find Spencer when Dodman caught up with me. He said you’d asked him to squirrel her away, so he’d hidden her in the dressing-up box in the auditorium.’ James paused and waited for Fen to acknowledge that her friend was safe, before carrying on. ‘He was worried about you though, asking such an odd request of him, hence coming to ask me if you were feeling quite well.’

Fen nodded and let James walk her down the stairs to the safety and warmth of the lower deck, managing a quick smile to Bisset and Dodman, who passed them on the stairs heading up, complete with handcuffs and a gun, in order to properly secure Captain Lagrande.

A little while later and Fen was seated in the warmth of the saloon bar, a fresh, dry jumper on and her wrist tightly bandaged by Dr Bartlett, who was sitting beside her. On her other side sat Eloise, who was fussing and pandering to Fen’s needs, minimal as they were. James had brought her a tumbler of brandy from the bar and that and the knowledge that things were finally falling into place was all she needed.

‘Eloise,’ Fen said, relieved to see her in one piece. ‘Dodman found you in time then?’

‘Yes, and explained everything. Which was necessary, as he suggested I go and hide in the dressing-up basket in the auditorium. I thought you were on some mad mission to find more epaulettes or something.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘But are you all right? You look cold and hurt and…’

‘I’m fine, really I am. Thanks to James.’

‘Any time, old girl,’ he mumbled, and then turned away, muttering something about going to the bar.

Fen called after him. ‘James, could you round up Frank and Spencer?’

‘Of course.’ James seemed happy to be used and pulled his greatcoat on so he could cross the outer deck to find the two men.

‘He’ll be back in a jiffy,’ Fen said, and then rather pointedly asked Dr Bartlett to see if he could find her some painkillers. As soon as he was gone, she turned to Eloise. ‘I’m so sorry that you had to go into hiding in the fancy-dress box.’

‘Oh, it was nothing. I mean, thank you for warning me, or rather for telling that nice steward to warn me.’

‘I suppose hiding things comes rather naturally to you.’ Fen looked at the other woman knowingly.

Eloise sighed. ‘Please don’t tell my aunt.’

‘I don’t want to. But she needs to know you don’t want to marry Reginald T. Vandervinter.’

‘How did you know that too?’ Eloise’s mouth hung open and she seemed genuinely shocked.

Fen slipped her good hand into her trouser pocket and pulled out the passenger list with her grids on them. ‘I thought the jewels were something to do with Genie’s death, and in a way they were, as I think you were quite willing to let her take the rap for stealing them, dead or alive.’

Eloise dropped her eyes in shame at the accusation, but nodded.

‘You showed me in Southampton that your moral compass had a penchant for veering off, what with those bootlegged coupons. And I don’t think you would need to steal your aunt’s jewels if you were planning on marrying rich-as-Croesus Reginald. He of the houses in the Hamptons and family dynasty. He’s probably got family tiaras in linen cupboards, too. But you would need some capital if you were planning on marrying the impoverished diplomat of whom none of your family approved.’

‘It wasn’t like that. Frank and I, well, we fell in love while we were in hiding.’

‘I thought your impassioned speech on the subject was masking some real experience.’ Fen tried to sound understanding, but her wrist was throbbing, not to mention the aches in other parts of her body, and she wasn’t sure Eloise should get off so lightly, not so much for the thieving but for the false accusations against an innocent woman. ‘You planted those earrings in Genie’s room, didn’t you?’

Eloise stared at her lap as she answered Fen. ‘That night when we were playing dress-up. It was all too easy. We were slipping on headbands and boas and I just popped them in her bedside drawer. I knew that later I could sneak into Aunt M’s room and nab the tiara,’ she looked up and finally made eye contact with Fen. ‘Then all I had to do was get them to Frank without anyone noticing. Aunt M sounding the alarm was actually the perfect diversion. James had given him a cast-iron alibi, so he would never be suspected, plus no one knew we had a link.’

‘And a past,’ Fen mentioned.

‘He was one of the “soldiers” who came to the château. I say soldier, but, of course, he was in intelligence. We housed him for several months in 1943 and again in 1944. Fen, those were the happiest months of my life. I knew then that, if I married Reginald, I would die inside. I love Frank, I love him so much, and him me. But when the war ended and Aunt M said we could travel, well, I tried to hang on in the château, I made excuses to stay as I hadn’t heard from Frank since his last mission had sent him north.’

She paused, looking devastated. ‘Finally I got word that he was in England and being sent home on the De Grasse, so I changed tack