The Riverboat Mystery (Jenny Starling #3)(41)

Jenny led the way, selecting a large black leather armchair for herself. She knew full well just how time-consuming these things could be. You might just as well make yourself comfortable.

Sergeant Graves brought out his notebook yet again. Rycroft fixed Jenny with a gimlet eye. ‘Right, Miss Starling, we’ll begin with you, shall we?’ he asked, somewhat maliciously.

Jenny inclined her head. ‘I prepared lunch for one o’clock as usual. It started a little late, as Francis didn’t come to the galley to start serving until about a quarter past. Mr Olney ate the same dishes as everyone else, I believe.’

Sergeant Graves’ lips twitched. She certainly wanted to make it clear that there was nothing suspect about her food.

‘After I’d cleared away the dishes, I decided to take a long walk. It was hot in the galley, it was our last day out, and I wanted to stretch my legs.’

Sergeant Graves, for one, didn’t doubt it. A woman the size of the cook would no doubt find the tiny galley something of a trial.

‘I returned about three o’clock and informed the captain. I started preparing the vegetables and various other edible items for the dinner this evening. I did not, at that point, go to the cupboard,’ she added quickly, seeing that Rycroft was about to ask just that.

‘At about a quarter past four, I went out for some air on the starboard deck, and found Dorothy and David Leigh already out there. Mrs Leigh looked unwell, so I returned to the galley to make her some weak tea and some toast. I then took it out to her. I took a short turn around the boat, going on down the deck, through the back corridor, out onto the rear deck and, lastly, along the port deck. Mr Finch stood on the port deck, alone. I noticed at that point that the planking next to him was wet. I then returned to the galley. I had been gone only five minutes or so. When I returned, I opened the cupboard door to get some chutney and pickles and discovered the body.’

Lucas had stirred a little angrily at her mention of him and the wet planking, and then sighed wearily. It was no good blaming the cook for merely stating facts. The rozzers, he knew, would ferret about asking questions and no doubt unearthing all sorts of unsavoury titbits about himself and his guests before all this was over.

‘Thank you, Miss Starling,’ Rycroft said. ‘Very succinct,’ he added a touch dryly. ‘Mr Finch?’

Lucas stuck out his long, spindly legs and closed his eyes for a moment. He seemed to have aged somewhat in the past few hours.

‘Let’s see. We all had lunch together. And yes, Gabby did eat the same as the rest of us. It was all very tasty.’ He bowed to the cook.

Sergeant Graves’ lips twitched again.

Jenny — who noticed everything — thought somewhat inconsequentially that the sergeant’s personality did not match his name very well. He seemed to be brimming over with repressed good humour.

‘After lunch, we all sort of moped around for a few minutes, then Dorothy — Dorothy Leigh, that is — proposed a game of darts. Er . . . let’s see. The captain had come in at that point to say that the cook hadn’t yet returned, so I dragged him in on the game. David Leigh and myself played Gabby and Tobias. Or was it the other way round? Buggered if I can remember now.’

‘What time was this?’ Rycroft asked quickly.

‘About twoish? Somewhere round then. Mrs Olney said she couldn’t play, and Dorothy said she didn’t mind just watching. So we played for . . . I don’t know, twenty minutes. Maybe less. Then Dorothy became rather ill, and her husband took her upstairs. After that, the match was abandoned, of course, and we all dispersed. I think Gabby went out there—’ he pointed ‘—onto the starboard deck. I don’t know how long he stayed out there, of course, or where he went afterwards. I myself went out onto the rear deck to snooze for an hour or so. Then I sort of wandered around the boat for a bit. I’d only just stepped onto the port deck a few seconds before I spotted Miss Starling. I too noticed that the deck was wet, but I assumed Brian had been taking on some river water.’

‘What time was this?’ Rycroft asked again.

But Lucas wasn’t so sure. He thought it was sometime after four.

‘Then I took a turn round the end of the boat, checked that everything was OK and all that. Then I noticed the boat was slowing and turning into the bank and wondered why. It wasn’t a scheduled stop, and nobody had come to tell me about it. I was just going to the bridge to find out what was going on, and as I came into the salon, I found the cook sitting in the chair by the galley door. She told me what had happened. Then we arranged for you lot to come and . . .’ He shrugged. ‘That was that.’

‘So the last time you saw Mr Olney alive was at about half past two, when the darts match broke up?’

Lucas nodded.

‘Captain Lester?’ Rycroft glanced at the captain.

‘I had lunch, as usual, on a tray in the bridge. The cook brings it to me, or I go into the galley for it. I think I went to the galley to collect it today. We were due to sail at two, but I knew the cook had gone for a walk and hadn’t reported back, so I went to tell Lucas we’d be delayed. Then we played darts, as he said, until poor little Dorothy got so sick. Then I went back to the wheelhouse.’ He paused and took a breath, obviously considering his words carefully. Once again there was that air of calm competence about him. ‘Sometime near . . . three o’clock, I should think it was, Miss Starling reported back and I took the Swan out. I was on the bridge until Miss Starling came in, about half past four, to tell me we had to stop and get the police. And that’s about all I can tell you.’