“All good reasons,” Alec resumed, “whether Wanda came up with one or all of them. Mr. Gotobed, would you mind telling us exactly what you ordered for lunch?”
“We both had the same, except for afters. First French onion soup, then sole with lemon-butter sauce, then tournedos Chasseur with new potatoes and peas.”
“Exactly the same, sir?”
“The only difference up to that point was that I asked for plenty of sauce with the fish and beef, whereas Wanda wanted only a little. I expect you all know she watched her figure. The steward kindly brought a sauce-boat with extra for each course, and I took some of the lemon-butter, but as it happened
the kitchens had poured as much as I cared for over the tournedos on my plate. Then I had a very nice Gruyère with water biscuits and Wanda had fruit compote, with cream, slimming notwithstanding.”
“And you drank?”
“I had a pint of bitter. She had seltzer water.”
“Hang on,” said Phillip. “There's lots of things she could have put the stuff in, but wouldn't it taste beastly?”
“Belladonna berries,” Miss Oliphant informed the company, “from which the eye-drops are prepared, taste sweet. Is it certain that she died of belladonna poisoning?”
“As certain as we can be without an autopsy. Dr. Amboyne agrees with you that the observed symptoms are entirely consistent, and there is a good deal of the substance unaccounted for.”
“But I do not comprehend, Mr. Fletcher, how Mrs ⦠Welford could have introduced the poison into Mr. Gotobed's food or drink without his noticing.”
“I would have liked to have the steward here to speak for himself. However, with all our extra passengers, the crew are stillâas Daisy put itârun off their feet, so I'll give you the salient points. Everything was perfectly normal until at one point when Bailey went in, both the lady and the gentleman were in the bedroom. Mr. Gotobed told me that Wanda had asked him to fetch her a handkerchief. He was unable to find it, so she went to look, too.”
“The steward would go in to take away dirty plates or to serve the next course,” said Daisy. “He wouldn't have time to keep popping in to ask if everything was satisfactory. So there was no food on the table when Wanda was alone there. She must have put the poison in the beer. But why did she then drink it?”
“Your logic is impeccable, love. Mr. Gotobed and Wanda were both at table when the steward took in two covered
plates of tournedos, a gravy-boat with extra sauce, a dish of potatoes and one of carrots.”
“Peas,” Gloria corrected him. “Mr. Gotobed said he ordered peas.”
“He did. He would have accepted the carrots, but Wanda insisted on peas. The steward went off to fetch them.”
“Which was when Wanda asked me to fetch her handkerchief.”
“And then poured the eye-drops into the gravy-boat, I bet,” guessed Daisy. “Liquid, highly flavoured, and intended for Mr. Gotobed. But that still leaves the question of why did
she
take some?”
“We're nearly there. The dastardly deed done, she joined Mr. Gotobed in the bedroom. The steward returned with the peas. He couldn't wait for them to come in, so he took the covers off the plates and served portions of vegetables and potatoes. He noticed that, as requested, the kitchens had poured plenty of sauce over one serving of beef, which he set at Mr. Gotobed's place. The other plate, however, which should have had a small amount of sauce, as requested by Wanda, had none at all. Deciding it looked dry and unappetizing, he ladled some sauce from the boat over the meat.” His lips quirking at the collective gasp. Alec finished the story: “Then, as Wanda and Mr. Gotobed had not returned, he replaced the covers and left.”
“You know how deep the plates are,” said Gotobed, “to stop the food sliding off in high seas. There was plenty of gravy on mine. I didn't take any extra, though Wanda reminded me twice that I'd ordered it. She ate everything on her plate.”
Daisy sighed. “If she hadn't kicked up a dust and insisted on peas, the steward wouldn't have come back. In effect, she died because she wouldn't eat her carrots. My old nanny wouldn't have been a bit surprised.”
O
n a sparkling clear day, the
Talavera
steamed across New York Bay, passengers crowding the rails. Up on the boat-deck, Mr. Arbuckle eagerly pointed out the sights to Daisy and Alec. Ahead towered the Statue of Liberty and the skyscrapers of Manhattan.
Daisy's attention wandered from the list of buildings with the number of floors for each. Looking down at the swarms of people on the promenade deck, she caught sight of Gotobed and Miss Oliphant. Gotobed had on his caped greatcoat, but he had given his fore-and-aft cap to Denton, to whom it had caused so much trouble. Daisy deplored the bowler hat he now wore.
“I'm so glad he has the witch to console him,” she said.
“What's that, Mrs. Fletcher?” Arbuckle followed her gaze. “Oh, Gotobed and Miss Oliphant. Waal now, I guess she's the sort of lady he ought to have had his eye on right from the start, a real nice lady. He's sweet on her, all right. I'm mighty glad you were clever enough to figure out what really happened, Fletcher, so he can start again without suspicion of murder hanging over him. If you'll excuse me, I'll go down and have a word.”
He went off. Leaning on the rail, Daisy said, “He's right, your theory was brilliant, darling. Everyone is quite sure you're right.”
“I'm not.” Alec sighed. “It's the most likely explanation I could come up with. It's quite possible that Wanda committed suicide. It's possible Miss Oliphant killed her. It's possible that Gotobed killed her, or all three victims, though Denton's experience makes me very nearly certain they were trying to kill him, so it could be considered self-defence.”
“But nothing can be proved,” Daisy reminded him.
“No, and that's why it's best for all concerned if my story stands. Great Scott, Daisy, I'm just afraid I'm beginning to absorb your cavalier attitude towards the law!”
The Daisy Dalrymple Mysteries:
Â
Death at Wentwater Court
The Winter Garden Mystery
Requiem for a Mezzo
Murder on the Flying Scotsman
Damsel in Distress
Dead in the Water
Styx and Stones
Rattle His Bones
TO DAVY JONES BELOW. Copyright © 2001 by Carola Dunn. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
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Production Editor: David Stanford Burr
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eISBN 9781429999991
First eBook Edition : April 2011
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Dunn, Carola
To Davy Jones below : a Daisy Dalrymple mystery / Carola Dunnâ1st ed.
p. cm
1. Dalrymple, Daisy (Fictitious character)âFiction. 2. Women journalistsâFiction 3. Ocean linersâFiction. 4. HoneymoonsâFiction. I. Title.
PR6054. U537 T6 2001
823'914âdc21
00-045768
First Edition: April 2001