The Woman in Cabin 10(51)

“He’s the size of a walrus. Plus he’s got a heart condition. Have you ever seen him take the stairs? Or, more to the point, heard him? He sounds like a steam train, and you start to worry when he gets to the top that he’ll kark it and fall back on you. I can’t imagine him overcoming anyone in a struggle.”

“She could have been very drunk. Or drugged. I bet anyone could tip an unconscious woman overboard—it would be just a matter of leverage.”

“If she was unconscious, then what about the scream?” Ben said, and I felt a sudden pulse of fury run through me.

“God, do you know what, I’m so fed up with everyone picking at and questioning me as if I should have the answers to all this. I don’t know, Ben. I don’t know what to think anymore. All right?”

“All right,” he said mildly. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it like that. I was just thinking aloud. Alexander—”

“Taking my name in vain?” came a voice from up the corridor, and we both swung around. I felt my cheeks go scarlet. How long had Alexander been there? Had he heard my speculations?

“Oh, hello, Belhomme,” Ben said smoothly. He didn’t seem at all put out. “We were just talking about you.”

“So I heard.” Alexander drew level with us, panting slightly. Ben was right, I realized. The smallest exertion set him gasping breathlessly. “All good, I hope?”

“Of course,” Ben said. “We were just discussing dinner tonight. Lo was saying how knowledgeable you were about food.”

For a minute I couldn’t think of anything to say, stunned by how good a liar Ben had become since we were together. Or had he always been such a slick deceiver and I’d just never noticed?

Then I realized both Ben and Alexander were waiting for me to speak, and I stammered, “Oh, yes, remember, Alexander? You were telling me about fugu.”

“Of course. Such a thrill. I do think it’s one’s responsibility to wring every ounce of sensation out of life, don’t you? Otherwise, without that, it’s just a short, nasty, and brutal interlude until death.”

He gave a broad, slightly crocodile-like smile, and hoisted something beneath his arm. It was a book; a volume of Patricia Highsmith, I saw.

“Where are you off to?” Ben asked casually. “We’ve got a few hours free until dinner now, I think.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Alexander said confidentially. “But this color isn’t entirely natural.” He touched his—now that he mentioned it—rather walnut-colored cheek. “So I’m off to the spa for a little touch-up. My wife always says I look better with a color.”

“I didn’t know you were married,” I said, hoping my surprise wasn’t too evident in my voice. Alexander nodded.

“For my sins. Thirty-eight years this year. You get less for murder, I’m led to believe!”

He gave a slightly grating laugh, and I inwardly cringed. If he hadn’t heard what we were saying earlier, it was an odd remark. If he had heard, then it was in very poor taste indeed.

“Have a nice time in the spa,” I said at last, lamely. He smiled again.

“I will. See you at dinner!”

He was turning to go when I spoke, suddenly, compelled by an impetus I couldn’t quite dissect.

“Wait, Alexander—”

He turned, one eyebrow raised. I felt my courage falter, but I carried on.

“I—this is going to sound a little strange, but I heard some noises last night, coming from cabin ten, the one at the end of the ship. It’s supposed to be empty but there was a woman in it yesterday—only now we can’t track her down. Did you see or hear anything last night? A splash? Any other noise? Ben said you were up.”

“I was indeed up,” Alexander said dryly. “I have trouble sleeping—you do, you know, when you get to my age, and a new bed always makes the matter worse. So I slipped up on deck for a little midnight walkies. And on my way there and back I saw quite a few comings and goings. Our dear friend Tina had a little visit from our very attentive cabin crew. And that dishy Mr. Lederer was prowling round here at one stage. I don’t know what he was doing out of bounds. His cabin is at quite the other end of the ship. I did wonder if he might have been coming to see you . . . ?”

He cocked an eyebrow at me and I blushed furiously.

“No, definitely not. Could he have been going into cabin ten?”

“I didn’t see,” Alexander said regretfully. “I just caught a glimpse of him rounding the corner. On his way back to his cabin to establish an alibi for his crimes, perhaps?”

“What time did you see all this?” Ben asked. Alexander pursed his lips, thinking.

“Hmm . . . it must have been around four or four thirty, I think.”

I exchanged a glance with Ben. I had been woken up at 3:04. That meant that the sighting of Josef at four a.m. probably ruled out Tina—presumably he had been in her cabin all night. But Cole . . . what reason could he possibly have for being down at this end of the ship?

I thought again of his huge case of equipment being bumped up the gangway.

“And who was the woman I saw coming out of your cabin?” Alexander said, rather slyly, looking at Ben. Ben blinked.

“Sorry? Are you sure you have the right cabin?”