The Pleasure Cruise Mystery by Robin Forsythe Page A

gruffly.
    â€œVery much so, and the worst of it is that the effects vary with different people.”
    â€œI suppose you’ve just mugged that up in your library,” commented the captain, smiling.
    â€œWell, yes, a man can’t remember everything, though my memory’s a first-rate one as far as memories go.”
    â€œMost Scots have good memories. They haven’t forgotten the Battle of Culloden yet. Could she have taken an over-dose?”
    â€œPossibly, but in that case she’d probably have been deadly sick prior to death. Again, if Mrs. Mesado was in the habit of taking a digitalis preparation she might have died from the cumulative effects. In such a case a patient may go into a fainting fit and die without any warning. What’s more, there’d be no appreciable post-mortem sign. These vegetable poisons are tricky things. You never know exactly where you are with them.”
    â€œThat’s good enough, then, from the Green Star’s point of view, Mac. As far as we can judge it’s an unfortunate occurrence, perfectly straightforward, and it’s no damn good your getting mysterious about it. Has the lady a husband alive?”
    â€œYes; she’s English by birth, but married to a very wealthy Argentine.”
    â€œWhere’s her husband?”
    â€œThey don’t know at the moment. There seems to have been a bit of a rumpus some weeks ago, and the husband went off in a huff. The lady was evidently used to his nasty habits and didn’t trouble herself about his departure. She shut up her house in Sussex and decided to console herself with a cruise aboard this ship.”
    â€œUsual burial unless they want to take the body home or bury it in Lisbon. We’ve no facilities for keeping a corpse in any of the refrigerators.”
    â€œThe sister says she’ll take all responsibility on behalf of her sister’s husband, and wishes a speedy burial at sea. They can’t communicate with Mesado by wireless because they don’t know where he is, although they think he may have gone to Buenos Aires.”
    â€œShe’s a sensible woman. You’ve explained, Mac, that it’s not desirable to make a public function of the burial?”
    â€œYes, yes, I took care to put that aspect of the affair very clearly. They agreed with me wholeheartedly.”
    â€œExcellent. We’ll bury her tomorrow night. Beyond her relatives it won’t be necessary to have anybody else present, though I dare say some of the passengers will find out and put in an appearance where they’re not wanted.”
    â€œThey like burials at sea as a rule,” commented the doctor dryly.
    â€œWell, they’re jolly well not going to get one this trip,” replied the captain firmly. “We’ll drop her overboard tomorrow night. Bit of a nuisance. Dancers and card players hang about the ship till all hours. Damn these cruises. We’ve been turned into variety entertainers. We’re no longer seamen.”
    Doctor Macpherson was silent for some moments, smoking lugubriously.
    â€œThere was one rum thing about the body that I could not quite understand,” he remarked at length.
    â€œWhat the devil was that?” asked the captain, casting a troubled glance in the doctor’s direction.
    â€œShe was wearing a pair of chamois leather gloves. I took these off and found that both hands were very badly cut and bruised. A valuable ring on one of her fingers had had some of its stones knocked out.”
    â€œHow did you account for that?” asked the master sharply.
    â€œI didn’t account for it,” replied the doctor.
    â€œWell, what had the Colvins to say about it?” asked the captain impatiently.
    â€œThey said Mrs. Mesado had a motor smash on the way from London to Tilbury, and had thrust her hands through the windscreen of the car she was driving.”
    â€œAh, well, that’s a satisfactory explanation,”