Free Depth of Deception (A Titanic Murder Mystery) by Alexander Galant

embracing you, taking the cold and fear away from you. Let the crackling flames illuminate the darkness in your mind. "
    Myra smiled. She stopped shivering.
    " Let’s go back, " continued Natalie. " Before you were found in the water, how did you get to the middle of the Atlantic Ocean? "
    " I was on a boat," replied Myra.
    Natalie was pleased they were making quick progress, " Can you describe it? "
    " It’s… big. "
    Hmm… Maybe not as quick. Natalie wondered if she was going to have enough cassette tapes. " Is it a yacht? "
    " No… larger than a yacht. "
    " A cruise ship? " asked Natalie. Myra frowned as if not understanding the question. " Is it a passenger ship? "
    " Oh, yes, " smiled Myra.
    " Are you traveling alone? "
    Myra suddenly bemused, " No. "
    Natalie sat up. This was progress. " Who else is traveling with you? "
    " My husband… my son. " Myra smiled, " And… "
    " And? "
    " And someone else, " Myra responded with agitation in her voice. She began tapping the arm of the chair with her finger. Natalie carefully moved the tape recorder to a safe distance where the tapping wouldn’t drown out the voices.
    She turned back to Myra and asked, " Can you see this other person’s face? "
    " Yes. It’s a woman… " Myra’s breathing became labored.
    " What’s wrong Myra? "
    " I’m not feeling well. I haven’t felt well for most of the trip. It’s odd. "
    " Why is it odd? "
    " I have traveled all my life and I have never experienced seasickness. Now I have a weak constitution. I am not capable of keeping any food down, and I’ve been burning up. I feel so dizzy. "
    " Did you fall overboard? " Natalie asked as calmly as she could.
    " No… "
    " Do you know how…? "
    " Something’s wrong! " Myra's voice started to grow louder. " The ship’s engines have stopped. I’ve been asleep, where is my husband? Where is my son? I can’t find them! "
    " Myra, think of the fireplace, " Natalie said soothingly trying to get Myra to calm down. " Feel the warmth... "
    " The fireplace. Oh, I knocked the tea cart toward the fireplace. "
    " What tea cart? "
    " My tea. I’m supposed to drink my tea to calm my nerves. My son's teddy bear was under the teacart. Where's my son? "
    Myra started to breathe harder. " The state room…it’s on an odd angle. The teacart is rolling past me… things are falling… I run into the adjoining cabin … my son’s teddy bear is floating by… Mr. Fluffy… he wouldn’t leave Mr. Fluffy. Where’s my son? I can’t find my son! "
    Natalie was torn. Should she calm her down? Or let this play out? It could lead to a mental breakthrough. Trying to sound calm and impassive, Natalie continued, " Use your other senses. Can you hear anyone? "
    " I can hear people screaming… the ship is sinking?! It’s not possible…! "
    " Why is it not possible? " Natalie had the feeling she knew what Myra was going to say but she hoped she was wrong.
    " The ship is unsinkable. We’re on the Titanic ! "
     
     

    Cha p ter XII
    " Would you like a biscuit, Mr. Toughill? " asked the old lady as she poured coffee from the glass hand-pumped cafetière into the glass mug. Callum was impressed by the traditional French press set. It certainly beat the brew he had back home.
    " That would be nice, " smiled Callum. " Thank you, Miss McArthur. "
    " Please call me Ruthie, " the old lady smiled as she retreated to the kitchen.
    " Are these pictures of your family? " asked Callum as he looked at the framed photos on the fireplace mantle. Most were black & white, some were faded and a few were in colour which was surprising for having been taken at the turn of the century.
    " No, " Ruthie called out from the kitchen. " Most of those pictures were taken by my father. He was a photographer. It was his life and joy. I’ve kept them because I look at them and I see what he saw. The people he knew or the ones he was proud of. "
    Callum looked at some of the photos that had colour tint to them. " Are these hand-coloured