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

and booked us passage too. Aunt M thought I was over my malaise and keen to get home to Reginald, so didn’t really suspect my sudden change of heart. And I couldn’t believe how lucky we were going to be. We’d be travelling together, going home, and on the ship with us were enough of my family’s jewels to set us up for a life of our own in Canada. Can you imagine how happy I was!’

‘Genie might not have had such a happy ending if she’d been investigated for stealing at your aunt’s behest,’ Fen reminded Eloise.

‘I would never have let it get to that stage.’ Eloise sounded genuine. ‘In fact, the earrings I planted in her room were my way of saying thank you in a way. Thank you for taking the heat off me as a suspect. But then, once she was dead, well, I didn’t think it was so bad to let her take the rap.’ She looked ashamed of herself, as if saying it out loud made the enormity of it real to her. ‘I know that was wrong of me, I do. Love makes you mad, doesn’t it? But, truly, I would never have let her be arrested for my crime.’

Fen chose to believe her, but something else was nagging at her. ‘Why did you ask me to stay on board? If you had Frank with you for the voyage, why beg for a third wheel?’

‘You weren’t a third wheel,’ Eloise said kindly. ‘I knew there was no way Aunt M would allow me to spend time with Frank unchaperoned, but if I had a friend on board… well, it would make it more decorous. You know the score. And you and Lord… James, are such a lovely couple, it seemed perfect.’

‘We’re not a couple,’ Fen sighed. She wouldn’t be the one to stand in the way of love and tried to put herself into Eloise’s shoes. The jewels, though not priceless, would actually have set up a young couple in perfect comfort north of the border and Fen could see the allure. If someone had told her that Arthur was waiting for her to come home, but all they needed was some cash…

She shook her head. No, she and Arthur would have made do with what they had, which at the time they met was approximately a cheese sandwich and three decent jumpers between them. She would never have stolen from anyone, let alone family, to fund their lifestyle.

Still, Fen didn’t want to land Eloise in the soup and she also felt bad that, for a fleeting moment, when she’d seen her stockings drying in her room, she had suspected her of being a murderer, so Fen decided that the jewel theft was a family matter. She was surprised then when Eloise herself volunteered to fetch her aunt.

‘I suppose she’ll want to hear everything,’ she looked at Fen imploringly. ‘Everything about the murders anyway. I’ll see if she’s packing.’

42

The doors swung open and James appeared again, this time with a jaded and unshaven Spencer McNeal and a much more jaunty-looking Frank Johnstone. Eloise and her aunt arrived shortly after the three men and took a seat around the table with Fen.

‘What are you wanting with all of us, Miss Churche?’ Mrs Archer asked, her voice sounding strained. ‘Can I dare to dream that you might have taken time out from your dilly-dallying to find my tiara? And look at the state of you! I thought you would be a good influence on Eloise, but it seems I was wrong.’

‘Shush, Aunt M,’ Eloise patted her on the hand. ‘Fen has been through the mill and is about to reveal all.’ She sighed, knowing full well what was to come.

‘I’m just waiting for Lagrande.’ Fen found it hard to even say his name, but she knew she was going to have to muster quite some strength to see this whole thing through. ‘James, did you see Bisset on your travels?’

‘They’re on their way,’ James affirmed, and then came and stood behind Fen.

She had to admit, his presence, quite literally at her back, was a comfort indeed. And, true enough, a few moments later, the swing doors opened again and in walked Bisset and Dodman, with a groggy Captain Lagrande in handcuffs between them.

‘Captain!’ Mrs Archer shrieked. ‘What have they done to you?’

She was quickly shushed by her niece, while the captain was lowered onto one of the chairs.

Fen could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise in reaction to seeing him again. To think, she mused, I was so honoured to dine at his table.

‘Just Dr Bartlett needed now, and I hope he’s coming back with a tot of morphia for me,’ Fen explained, cradling her injured wrist, and then looked up towards the door as the doctor entered with a small black leather bag under his arm.

‘Only aspirin, I’m afraid. I can’t go about giving you morphia, not while you’re self-medicating too.’ The doctor nodded towards the generous glass of brandy Fen had in front of her and she almost felt like rolling her eyes. Instead, she took the tablets from him and dropped them in it, knocking it back in one slug.

‘Right,’ she said. ‘Where should I start?’

‘I think you might start by explaining to me why we are heading towards New York, perilously close to shallow waters, with a captain incapacitated and in chains!’ Mrs Archer kicked off the proceedings.

‘That’s an easy one,’ Fen replied. ‘He’s the murderer.’

‘Of that showgirl?’ Mrs Archer enquired and Fen saw Eloise, for all her plans to frame poor Genie, visibly blanch at the put-down.

‘Of Genie, or Miss Jean Higginbottom as she was really called, yes. And of the German passenger, Ernst Fischer, in cabin thirteen.’

Lagrande groaned. His concussion after the knock to the head with the lifebelt was making it difficult for him to make himself clear, but Fen had heard enough earlier to explain it to the rest of the gathered passengers and