Free Steele-Faced (Daggers & Steele Book 6) by Alex P. Berg Page A

much anyone on board could’ve gotten in here, and no one was likely to have seen who actually did.” I sighed. “Wonderful.”
    I turned back to the body. Given the disorderly pile of luggage and Shay’s restrictive dress, she couldn’t kneel next to the body, so she’d settled for seating herself on a nearby trunk, her legs pressed together and folded off to the side. The pose helped bring the dress’s mermaid inspiration to life, though I had a hard time imagining a mermaid in such a brilliant scarlet.
    I waded into the suitcases beside her. “Well at least somebody picked the right color to wear tonight.”
    “As if you had any choice,” said Shay. “But blood will stain this dress as easily as your shirt. They’re completely different shades.”
    I took her word for it. “Find anything?”
    Shay brushed back some of the stiff’s hair. “Look familiar?”
    “Sure does,” I said. “Unless I’m suffering from premature Alzheimer’s, that’s Lumpy.”
    “Lumpy?”
    “Yeah,” I said. “One of Johann’s three thugs. Humpty, Dumpty, and Lumpy.”
    “I’m not surprised you already named them,” said Shay, “but I am surprised with your choice of monikers. Especially since there were three of them and only two names from that nursery rhyme to go around.”
    “Hence, Lumpy,” I said.
    “If anything, it should be Lumpty.”
    “Lumpty? That’s not even a word.”
    “Neither are Humpty or Dumpty,” said Shay.
    “Fair enough.” I pointed at the body. “So what else did you find?”
    “Well, I can’t tell a whole lot from this angle, but this incision appears to be the only one on his back, at least. As far as I can tell, it would be enough. See the angle of entry? It indicates a downward strike into his back, and given the placement of the wound, I think it could’ve pierced one of his lower ventricles, assuming the knife was long enough. It would explain all the blood, anyway.”
    I smiled. “Look at you. You’re like a mini Cairny.”
    “I’m taller than she is, but I get your drift,” said Shay. “Why don’t you move him off the suitcases so we can look at him from the front and check his possessions?”
    “And risk sullying my suit? Not on your life.” I waved to Olaugh and James. “A little help?”
    The pair came over, and under my supervision, moved Lumpty to the floor and onto his back. James almost dropped him prematurely due to his nerves, but Olaugh was a rock.
    I knelt down and took a look at the guy. He had a bit of a scrape and a bruise on one cheek, but his face had been pressed against the brass-banded corner of a trunk. If he fell into it, it could’ve easily caused the contusion. Apart from that, I didn’t spot any obvious scrapes, cuts, or bruises, and though his hands—empty, unfortunately—were callused, they didn’t show signs of struggle.
    “Stabbed in the back, plain and simple,” said Steele, echoing my own thoughts.
    I checked Lumpty’s pockets and actually found things. Multiple things. His coin purse, filled with a fair amount of silver, a silk handkerchief, a pair of brass knuckles—not illegal, but not exactly encouraged either—and a key with a chain similar to the one on Shay’s and my own room key. It read one thirty-five.
    “That’s a promenade deck key,” said Olaugh. “It wouldn’t get the man in here.”
    I knew that. I also had a pretty good idea whose key it was. I pulled one last item from Lumpty’s jacket: a slim, black leather case long enough to hold pens. I cracked it open.
    “Looks like Lumpty didn’t need a key.” I held up the lock picking set for everyone to see.
    “Well, knowing one of our own isn’t in on this makes me feel better,” said Olaugh. “Though not much.”
    “We can’t rule anything out at this point.” I stood and turned to Steele. “What do you think?”
    “I think a lot of things,” she said. “I think this case just got a whole lot more complicated, and more dangerous. And I think Steck