In Dublin's Fair City (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #6)

“How did you know I’d be on board?” I asked. “Did Mr. Burke tell you?”


She laughed. “Not at all. Very tight-lipped is our dear Tommy. Pure coincidence, actually. We bumped into each other buying tickets at the White Star office, so he had to confess he was sending you to Ireland. I wormed it out of him actually. I do have a knack of making gentlemen confess things they never intended to.” That enchanting smile lingered on her lips before she went on, “Do take a seat. There's a bottle of champagne already on ice. I know it's morning and I don’t usually drink before noon, but I always make it a rule to drink champagne when sailing. I find it calms the stomach wonderfully. I am never seasick.”

“No champagne for me, thank you. It goes straight to my head,” I said.

“Mine too.” She chuckled. “It can probably be blamed for a host of wrong decisions in my life.” She propped herself up a little higher and reached across to the table. “Chocolate? I do adore them, don’t you? My one real weakness, especially when I have to watch my waistline.”

She held out a gold-wrapped box to me. This time I didn’t refuse.

“Miss Sheehan,” I said, “why exactly did you invite me? You hardly know me, and I can’t imagine that I’d be the most exciting person on ship. You’ve only to go out of that door and you’ll be surrounded by admirers.”

“Exactly,” she said. “I’ve a small proposition to make to you, Molly.” She flashed me a challenging smile. “I may call you Molly, may I not? If you are a lady detective, then you must be the kind of woman who craves excitement and likes a challenge.”

“I don’t know if I crave excitement,” I said, “but I don’t seem to be able to escape it.”

“Splendid. And you wouldn’t be averse to earning an extra fee from this trip?”

“Nooo,” I said hesitantly.

She sat up now. “I’m going to make you a proposition, Molly Murphy. I don’t think you’ll turn it down.”

I waited. She glanced out of her porthole—one not obscured by a hanging lifeboat. “It's not always easy being me,” she said. “As you said, everywhere I go I’m surrounded by admirers. Foolish men who think themselves hopelessly in love with me, follow me like puppy dogs. I can never be alone, never have a chance to be myself. You may think it's wonderful, but it can become very wearing, I assure you. I’m taking this trip home because my doctor has ordered me to rest or face a breakdown. I have a little cottage picked out on the West Coast, where the local inhabitants won’t know who I am and care little about my fame. But it is this journey that I dread.”

She paused again, one lily white arm raised in dramatic gesture. Truly she was so lovely to look at that I couldn’t stop gazing. Those beautiful green eyes, that perfect little nose. I realized that she was also staring at me.

“You said you had a proposition for me,” I said.

She nodded. “I want to trade places with you on this voyage.”

“You want what?” I blurted out, forgetting that she was one of the world's most famous women, and I was a nobody.

She smiled, revealing the most enchanting dimples. “Exactly what I said. For this voyage I want to become Molly Murphy, and I want you to stay in this cabin and become Oona Sheehan.”

“But that's absurd,” I said. “For one thing, I’m in a tiny second-class cabin down five decks from here, with the view blocked by a great lifeboat. For another, I’d only have to show my face for one second and anyone would know I’m not Oona Sheehan.”

“I’ve thought it all out,” she said. “We’ll announce that I am feeling out of sorts, suffering from exhaustion, and am keeping to my cabin, except for brief walks on deck, during which times I’ll be bundled in my cape and hood. If anyone tries to talk to you during these sorties, youcan hold a handkerchief up to your mouth and complain in a whisper about your sore throat and inability to speak. I think it might be wise if you avoid mealtimes. It might be harder to carry it off when you’re seated at the captain's table, and you are liable to run into somebody who actually knows me.

“I’ve arranged to have my meals delivered to this cabin so you won’t have to risk being caught out at the captain's table or accosted in the public rooms. It will make the voyage rather more boring than you intended, I’m sure,- but at least you’ll be in luxury, and I’ll pay you well for the inconvenience. Above all, you’d be doing a fellow Irishwoman a great service. So what do you say?”

“Let me get this right,” I said. “You’ll take my cabin, down on E deck?”

“And dress simply and be the humble Irishwoman Molly Murphy, returning home to see her family, sitting quietly on the second-class promenade deck, and resting.”

“And I’ll be Oona Sheehan.”

“Who unfortunately is not well enough to receive visitors for the trip. Help yourself to my clothes, and if you want to walk on deck, may I suggest you put on one of my wigs.”