Free Murder Most Posh: A Mrs. Xavier Stayton Mystery by Robert Colton Page A

killed his wife. His brash lover, perhaps?
       Mr. Pace sent for a crewman to inquire with any staff members who had been present in the ballroom when the unknown woman created the scandal. Very little time passed before we had her name.
       “Simone Wainwright,” said Mr. Pace. “Cabin C-53.”
       After sending a steward to her room, the fellow returned to tell us, “The door was unlocked, and when I knocked, it came open. No one is in the cabin, but something has occurred.”
       Lucy, Gerald, and I followed Mr. Pace to Ms. Wainwright’s cabin. Just a few steps before we reached it, I asked Gerald, “How did the countess slip into the second-class promenade?”
       “How’s that? Oh, she bribed a porter to let her pass through a gate,” Gerald replied.
       We came to the room, and it was immediately obvious that there had been a struggle. Although located within the first-class section of the ship, this single room was much smaller than ours, but lavish in décor all the same.
       The bed was unmade, a lamp was knocked to the floor, and a single suitcase was upended in the corner of the room.
       The purser, in a grave voice, told the steward who had followed us, “Start searching the ship for Ms. Wainwright.”
       I began to open the drawers to the dresser, and Mr. Pace asked, “What are you doing?”
      Lucy replied for me, “She’s looking for clues.”
       There were very few articles of clothing in the dresser. They were flashy, but cheap. Beside her bed, I found only two pairs of shoes, both rather plain compared to her brightly colored dresses.
       On a dressing table, there were two pairs of beaded earrings, a necklace of costume jewels, and a single tube of lipstick. I picked up her set of hairbrushes. A few golden threads clung to them, but they showed little wear.
       “Lucy, look at her shoes,” I said as I placed the brushes neatly on the table, just as I had found them.
      “The soles are quite worn,” she remarked after examining them.
       Gerald asked, “What does that mean?”
       “I would say she got her money’s worth out of them,” I retorted, attempting to sound mysterious. Before another question might be asked, I said, “I have seen all there is to see. I suggest the room be locked until Ms. Wainwright is located.”

Chapter Six
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    At my request, nothing was said to Mathew Farquhar regarding Simone Wainwright until a discreet but thorough search failed to locate the missing woman.
       We waited many hours in the purser’s office until the ship’s captain arrived and said to me, “I’m most sorry that this affair has troubled you, Mrs. Stayton.” Despite the politeness of the comment, I rather believe he was irritated that I had become involved.
       “Think nothing of it. I lend my talents of deduction most earnestly,” I replied.
       The man’s eyes grew wide, and he fumbled for something else to say.
       Lucy quickly uttered a helpful suggestion, “What if Ms. Simone is in Mr. Farquhar’s cabin?”
       Gerald bolted from his chair, nearly knocking it over. “A damned good notion.”
       The captain blew out a long breath and admitted, “Yes. Well, it is a thought, if, as you’ve told Mr. Pace (Mr. Pace’s name was said in a way that told all who had gathered that the captain was not pleased with the man.) there is some sort of relationship between these two individuals.”
       “There is,” I assured him.
       The captain gave me a pained smile and said, “I do believe it would be for the best if Mr. Pace and I go alone.”
       “Now wait a damned minute! This all has to do with Dominika; I have every right to be there when you confront the bastard.”
       The captain took a step back, and in a hushed voice, remarked, “There are ladies present, Mr. Hurst.”
        Gerald gave me a coy grin and responded, “Shucks, these two women are quite worldly. For heaven’s