Free Murder on the Minneapolis by Anita Davison

he was found. Poor girl was worried she would be made to pay for it.’
    ‘The housekeeping staff have their wages docked for breakages, most of which never happen,’ Dr Fletcher said. ‘Harsh, maybe, but company policy.’
    ‘When the crew were questioned, they said the deck was washed before Parnell’s body was discovered, but insisted there was no blood on the steps, or beneath the body.’
    ‘I found that somewhat unusual, but fear it’s destined to be one of life’s mysteries.’
    ‘What about the lividity on his face?’
    ‘What about it?’ The doctor’s voice took on a sharp edge.
    ‘Can you explain it?’
    ‘I am qualified, you know,’ Dr Fletcher snapped. ‘I suppose you could say it was odd if he had only lain there a short while, but hardly conclusive.’
    Flora hunched against the pillar, taking small bites of a shortbread biscuit, her excitement growing at the knowledge she wasn’t the only one who believed Parnell may have been dead for hours, not minutes.
    ‘Could he have been killed elsewhere?’ Hersch asked. ‘And his body left on the steps to make it appear as if he had fallen?’
    ‘Steady on.’ The doctor dropped his voice to a fierce whisper Flora struggled to hear. ‘You could damage my reputation with such talk.’
    ‘What is more significant, is that it would mean there’s a murderer on board.’ Hersch appeared to be losing patience with the good doctor.
    ‘Quiet, man! You don’t want to go spreading rumours like that.’
    Flora imagined the doctor giving the room a swift, nervous glance to see if they had been heard.
    ‘What do you expect me to do about it?’ he continued in a fierce whisper.
    ‘Nothing, for the moment,’ Hersch said, unfailingly calm. ‘However, I suggest you ensure your record-keeping is flawless, or this could come back to haunt you.’
    ‘I hope you’re wrong, Hersch.’ The creak of leather signalled the doctor was about to leave. ‘Anyway, I must be off, I’ve a patient due with a boil that needs lancing. One of the few ailments I can charge for as it didn’t occur on board.’
    His footsteps tapped across the polished floor, followed by his cheery greeting to someone on his way out. The room fell silent, the clink of china and the slap of the door the only sounds as stewards and passengers came and went.
    ‘He didn’t appear particularly interested in my theory, did he, Miss Maguire?’
    Flora froze. Aware it would be pointless to pretend she hadn’t heard, she peeked around the pillar to where Carl Hersch stirred his tea, the silver spoon dwarfed by his manicured hands. His immaculate nails were the first thing she had noticed about him.
    ‘Did you know I was here all the time?’ She rose andeased round the pillar whilst bidding a mental farewell to the last remnants of her reputation. As if tripping over dead bodies wasn’t enough, she had now been caught blatantly eavesdropping.
    ‘I doubt you wear perfume, my dear, but your soap is distinctive. Jasmine, I think.’ He gave a low chuckle, indicating the seat the surgeon had vacated. ‘Would you care to join me?’
    Flora sat. ‘Is it my imagination, or did Dr Fletcher seem nervous?’
    ‘You noticed that, did you?’ Hersch lifted the teapot in invitation. ‘You don’t suffer fools gladly, do you, Miss Maguire?’
    ‘He’s not a fool, but I think he’s lazy.’ Flora declined his offer of tea, but his compliment gave her confidence. ‘Do I understand you saw Mr Parnell’s body after it was taken to the doctor’s office?’
    ‘How did you know that?’ He took a slow sip from his cup before returning it to the table.
    ‘You mentioned the purple bruise on Parnell’s cheek, which you wouldn’t have known about had you not seen it for yourself.’
    ‘Very astute of you.’ His eyes crinkled at the corners as his probing gaze met hers.
    Flora stiffened, suspecting she was being teased. ‘It’s not merely idle curiosity. I have responsibility for a young boy whose