Free Murder on the Celtic by Conrad Allen Page A

first-class lounge that afternoon was a forerunner of a number of performances that would be offered to passengers in the course of the voyage. Featuring the resident orchestra, it was a small-scale event that provided pleasant entertainment on their first full day afloat. Concerts being held simultaneously in second and steerage class relied strongly on the more homespun talents of the passengers or crew and a motley selection of would-be conjurers, impressionists, musicians, comedians, monologuists and singers who competed for applause. The concert in first class was largely a musical affair and it drew a sizable audience. Genevieve Masefield was among those who took their seats. Her companion was Lady Bulstrode, complete with lorgnette and a small box of chocolates.
    â€œRupert is not fond of music,” said the old lady, surveying the room through her lorgnette. “I have a dreadful job persuading him to go to the opera with me. He’s partially deaf, you see, and his eyesight is a trifle impaired, so he misses a great deal.”
    â€œWhat a pity!”
    â€œThat’s why I’m so grateful to you, Miss Masefield. It’s so vital to have agreeable company at such events as this.”
    â€œIt’s I who should thank you, Lady Bulstrode. Had I come on my own,” said Genevieve, “I might have felt far less comfortable.”
    â€œYou’d not have been alone for long.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œSomething about the sea air seems to bring out the philanderer in some men,” said Lady Bulstrode with a confiding smile. “They cannot help themselves. I noticed it when we sailed to New York. As they enter a public room, certain men immediately look around to see if there are any attractive unaccompanied young ladies on board. Some of those same ladies, of course,” she added in a hoarse whisper, “may not be at all what they seem.”
    Genevieve did not need to be told that. During her years as a detective she had identified more than one high-class prostitute, who traveled on liners in order to pick up wealthy clients. Other women, working with a male confederate, had lured gullible men into compromising positions for the purposes of blackmail. Genevieve had also been called upon to apprehend an occasional female thief or pickpocket on board. Crime was by no means limited to the male sex.
    â€œRupert is playing chess with that nice Mr. Cleves,” said Lady Bulstrode. “I have to confess that I tend to find Americans a little too assertive for my taste, but Mr. Cleves is the exception to the rule. He has such exquisite manners.”
    â€œYes,” agreed Genevieve. “I liked him.”
    â€œA happy coincidence in both cases.”
    â€œI don’t understand, Lady Bulstrode.”
    â€œWell, I met you in the customs shed and discovered that we had mutual friends back in England. When my husband firstchanced upon Joshua Cleves, he not only found someone who is as addicted to racing as he is. Rupert also acquired a fellow chess player.”
    â€œCommon interests do draw people together.”
    â€œThey’re the basis of civilized society, my dear.”
    Genevieve had not made a deliberate attempt to befriend the couple. While they chatted in the customs shed, however, Lady Bulstrode had mentioned someone whom Genevieve had actually known. It then transpired that they had other mutual acquaintances among the minor English aristocracy. What Genevieve did not explain was that she had met those people as a result of her engagement to a young man who was set to inherit his father’s title. Unforgivable behavior by her fiancé had compelled her to break off the engagement, but she was certainly not going to entrust the details of that episode to Lady Bulstrode. They belonged firmly in her past.
    â€œWhat did you really think about him?” asked the old lady.
    â€œMr. Cleves?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI found him friendly,