Free Justice Done by Jan Burke Page A

ship.”
    â€œOh! You have something in common with Grandmother then.”
    He smiled slightly. “Yes. Ada and I have a great deal in common.”
    Not wanting to pursue that subject, she said, “So your grandfather told you about traveling on this ship?”
    â€œNo,” Parsons said, looking out over the railing, toward the sea. “He died before I was born. Even before my father was born. My grandfather died aboard the ship.”
    â€œAboard the ship?” she repeated, stunned.
    â€œYes. He was a young soldier, newly married. His wife was pregnant with their first child, although he didn’t know that when he left for war. He was, by all accounts, a bright and talented man with a sense of humor; he used to draw cartoon sketches of his fellow soldiers and mail them home to my grandmother. He went off to war, not willingly parted from her, but willing to fight for his country.” He paused, then added bitterly, “He was murdered before he had a chance to reach his first battle.”
    â€œMurdered?!”
    â€œYes.”
    Sarah’s own thoughts raced. It was not difficult to see that under the crowded wartime conditions aboard the ship, tempers might easily flare. She suddenly knew without a doubt that his grandfather had been killed near the swimming pool; this, she was sure, accounted for Robert’s reaction when they were in that area of the ship.
    â€œI’m sorry, Robert,” she said. “What a terrible blow for your grandmother.”
    â€œShe didn’t learn exactly what happened until many years later. She thought he had been killed in action.”
    â€œWas the killer punished?”
    â€œNo. He got away with it. Listen, I shouldn’t be talking to you about this,” he said. “You’re here for a pleasant occasion and Ada would tan my hide if she knew I was—”
    â€œAda doesn’t entirely rule my life,” Sarah said. “I’m glad you told me. Does she know about your grandfather?”
    â€œOh, yes.”
    â€œAnd she still insisted on bringing you here!”
    â€œSarah, as I’ve told you, I’ve been here before.” He smiled. “And not just to lay my family ghosts to rest. I’ll admit that was why I made my first visit, but I found I couldn’t dislike this ship—she’s not to blame for what happened to my grandfather. I suppose I fell in love with her style and elegance. She was built for pleasure—a thing of beauty, not death and destruction. And she’s a survivor. Of all the great luxury liners built before the war, the Queen Mary is the only survivor.”
    They resumed their tour of the ship. He had saved the art gallery, one of his favorite rooms on the ship, for last. As they left it, he said, “Ask Ada to tell you what sort of relationship I share with her.”
    â€œWhy don’t you tell me instead?”
    â€œI promised her I would leave that to her.”
    They soon reached the stateroom. As he was about to leave her at her door, he paused and said, “Something was troubling you this morning.”
    Her eyes widened.
    He shrugged. “I saw it. In your face, I suppose. Your eyes.”
    â€œIt was just—just something silly,” she said. “Just a dream.”
    â€œA nightmare?”
    â€œI dreamed of that closet—the one at the orphanage.”
    â€œYou’re all right now?”
    â€œYes. I’ll be fine.”
    He started to walk off, then turned and said, “Thank you for taking the tour with me.”
    â€œMy pleasure,” she said softly.
    W hen she had finished dressing for the party, Sarah knocked on her grandmother’s door. Ada opened it herself, beckoning Sarah in as she returned to her dressing table. To Sarah’s surprise, Ada was nearly ready, and she was attired not in one of her wild ensembles, but in a very simple but elegant black dress.
    â€œAre you feeling all right?” Sarah