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

“And what's your opinion, Doctor? Are we dealing with a death from natural causes, or does it indeed look suspicious to you?”


“I think it's safe to say that she was suffocated, sir,” the doctor said. “Probably by the pillow on the bed. There are signs of bruising around the neck where she was held down forcibly. However, she had not— uh—been assaulted or interfered with in any way.” He lowered his voice as he said this with a quick glance in my direction.

“Blast it. This is most unfortunate,” the captain said. “Right. Well, I suppose I’d better go and take a look for myself. If you don’t mind waiting here, Miss Sheehan, I’ll have the doctor escort me back to your cabin.”

“Make sure you don’t touch anything unnecessarily, sir,” the first officer called after him. “I’m sure the police will want the crime scene undisturbed when they come aboard.”

“I’m not a complete fool, Stratton,” the captain barked back. “Besides, I am the law on this ship while we are at sea, and I’ll conduct my own inquiry. It only becomes a police matter when we dock, and if I choose to report it. Ideally I’d like to have the whole thing sewn up before we get to Ireland.”

“Fat chance of that, I should say,” the first officer muttered as the door closed behind the captain and doctor. Henry nodded.

I waited, shivering, even though the room was comfortably warm. This whole voyage had been so unreal, and now had taken on a nightmare quality The first officer, Henry and I waited in uneasy silence. Iwas conscious of a clock, ticking on one wall, the gentle pitching of the ship as we ran with the waves. After what seemed an age, the captain and doctor returned.

“Horrible business,” the captain was muttering as he came in. “Quite horrible. Poor girl. We’re going to find the blighter who did this, damn his eyes. Well, I suppose we had better get down to it. The girl was Irish, I take it. I suppose that means notifying the police when we dock in Queenstown.”

“We will most certainly have to call in the local police when we dock in Queenstown,” the first officer said emphatically.

“We don’t have to do anything.” The captain stared at him. “I am the law on this ship, as you well know.”

“We fly under the British flag, sir. We are subject to British law, and a murder will certainly have to involve the British police.”

The captain sighed. “Yes, I know, I know. By God, this will be a nasty business. I hope to heaven they don’t keep us delayed in port while they conduct their inquiries. The ship's owners will be tearing out their beards if we can’t keep to our schedule. They’ll blame me for some blasted woman getting herself killed on my ship.” He stared out of the window into the blackness, then slapped his hand on the nearest table. “Right. Let's get on with it. Will you take notes, Doctor? There's writing paper on the desk over there.”

“Right you are, sir.” The doctor crossed the room and pulled a chair up to a writing desk.

“I’ve never conducted a murder investigation before in all my years at sea,” the captain said. “We’ve over a thousand people on this vessel and I want this man apprehended as quickly as possible. I don’t like the thought of a killer running around loose in our midst.”

As he spoke it crossed my mind that we should not leap to the assumption that the killer was male. But for once I wisely kept silent.

The captain was pacing now, hands behind his back. “Stratton, I want the crew made aware of the circumstances as quickly and quietly as possible. Have them keep an eye open for anyone acting suspiciously. I’ll do a briefing of the day staff at four bells and I want a full passenger list immediately.”

The doctor looked up from his position at the writing table. “Sir, I think we should make every effort to keep the news from the passengers or to cause any kind of alarm, do you agree?”

“Oh, absolutely, sir.” Stratton nodded his agreement. “If we had some idea for whom we might be on the lookout, we could take steps to apprehend this man before we dock tomorrow.”

“If we knew who we were looking for, the matter would be simple, Stratton,” the captain said dryly. “We’d go to his damned cabin and arrest him.”

I glanced across at Henry to see if he was going to mention the unknown steward. He stood by the doorway with eyes cast down. I was debating whether to mention it at this stage myself and thus risk getting Henry into trouble, when the captain went on, “Well, nobody's going ashore until the police come on board, that's for certain. Have signals standing at the ready. I want semaphore messages sent as soon we make contact with the Irish coast. I’m not putting this ship hours behind schedule while we wait for their inspectors to arrive from Dublin.”

“It is possible they’ll keep us in port while a complete investigation is carried out,” the first officer said.