The False Inspector Dew

1

After breakfast there was great activity in the main lounge. A team of stewards set to work. They moved the occasional tables to the sides. They brought in one of the large tables from the dining saloon and placed it at the top end of the lounge near the grand piano. They arranged the easy chairs and sofas in rows to face the table. Meanwhile a squad of bellboys brought in upright chairs from the restaurant and positioned them in rows behind the armchairs. Two boys moved along the rows and left a hymnbook on each chair.

At a quarter to eleven the first class passengers who wished to worship took their places. All the armchairs were filled. Latecomers used the upright chairs. At five to eleven the congregation was completed by passengers from the second and third classes. Those who could not get chairs stood at the back with members of the crew. Among them was Walter, looking self-composed.

Alma, several rows ahead, felt sure he had seen her. She had turned only once to look for him. She was trying to stay calm. The recovering of Lydia's body was desperately unlucky, but it was not the end. Who was to know that it was Lydia? It was simply an unknown woman who had fallen or jumped overboard. They would check and find that no-one was missing. It would remain a mystery for ever.

Captain Rostron entered the lounge with the senior officers. They took their places at the table. The service began with a hymn. The purser read a lesson about "they that go down to the sea in ships, and occupy their business in great waters". The congregation stood while the captain said prayers. Another lesson was read and another hymn sung.

After the hymn, Captain Rostron asked everyone to be seated. He moved round the table and stood in front of it. He said, 'Ladies and gentlemen, our service is concluded. It is not my custom to address the passengers on this occasion, but something occurred last night that I feel bound to speak to you about. Some of you know that a passenger, a lady passenger, was seen to fall overboard. It was reported to me and I gave orders at once for the ship to be turned about and a search made. The passenger was recovered, but it was too late to save her life. We are not yet certain who she was, or in what circumstances this tragic incident occurred. The master-at-arms, Mr Saxon' — he indicated one of the officers, who stood up — 'is making inquiries. If you can help over the matter of identification or in any way that throws light on what happened, I would be obliged if you would speak to him. His office is situated next to the purser's. I would only add that tragedies of this sort are bound to occur from time to time on great ships making regular ocean crossings with up to two thousand passengers and eight hundred crew aboard. The appropriate action is taken by the captain, but the routine of the ship continues. I hope that this will not prevent you from enjoying your voyage on the Mauretania.''

Captain Rostron picked up his prayer book and left the lounge. A muttering somewhere in the congregation rapidly became a chorus in full voice. There was hardly a person in the room without some recollection of the previous night. Sounds and strange movements had been noticed, lonely women seen on deck. Those who had watched the search gave their account of it.

Alma turned in her chair and pretended to listen to a man in the row behind who said he had heard a scream. She looked towards Walter. Their eyes met. He did not look disturbed. He made a slight movement of the head from side to side. Then he turned away and joined the other passengers making for the door. Alma understood his meaning. There was no need to be alarmed. She got up and made her way along the row towards the other door.

Marjorie Livingstone Cordell had managed to acquire an easy chair in the second row for the service. She had enjoyed the hymns, but she wasn't impressed by the captain. 'It's easy for him to tell us not to panic, they pick bodies from the water every trip. It doesn't satisfy me. I mean suppose the poor lady was pushed. Who's going to find out the facts? That little guy with a ginger moustache who stood up when the captain called his name? He doesn't inspire me with confidence.'

'Well, no, he doesn't. You've got a point there,' agreed the woman next to her.

'Marje, if you'll forgive the expression, you're all at sea,' said Livy from her other side. 'This is just the kind ofjob the master-at-arms is trained to do. He's the cop on the ship. Any trouble, he deals with it. Stowaways, smugglers, drunks.'

'Stowaways are one thing, murder is another,' said Marjorie acidly.

'Who mentioned murder, for heaven's sake?'

'I thought it might be suicide,' said the woman on Marjorie's right.

'Murder, suicide, accident — do you really think ginger moustache can tell the difference?'

'His name is Saxon, honey,' said Livy.

'I tell you one thing, Livy. If it was me or my daughter fished out of the sea, you wouldn't be so happy with him in charge. Where is Barbara? I didn't see her in here.'

'No. I guess she decided to miss the service.'

'We didn't see her at breakfast, either. Oh my God! Livy, where is she?' Marjorie stood up and looked wildly around the lounge.

'Take it easy, Mane. She could be anywhere — her stateroom, the cafe, the library. She could be laid out somewhere.'

Marjorie gave a cry of distress.

'On a deckchair, honey,' said Livy. 'On a deckchair.'

'We've got to find her.'

'Okay. You check the stateroom. I'll look around the other places.'

'Should we speak to the captain? They could put out a call on the public address.'

'Not before we check, Marje. Just do as I say, will you?'