She stopped and examined one thick fingernail closely.
There was another silence. Mickey's face was a mask, white and stiff. His eyes lifted to Gili's face as clear and deep as the sea. Josh Morgan, seeming very tall and big and solid in the crimson bathrobe, said suddenly: "Did they say anything else?"
"No. No, I think they saw us."
"Why? What did they do?"
"Well, Alfred made some motion, some movement. He understood English, you see, he heard the word Nazi. They were standing by the railing. They were very still for a moment and then they seemed to whisper and they walked away. But I think they knew it was Alfred. So I think they killed him. For fear of—of ..." she hesitated, fumbling for a word.
"Blackmail?" said Josh Morgan.
"Blackmail. Yes, yes. Money from her to keep silence."
"Did he ask them for money?"
Gili's face clouded. "I don't know that. I think he meant to."
"Why do you think that?"
She shrugged. "Oh, I think so."
"Did he say he intended to try to blackmail them?"
"N-no. But he said they were very, very rich. And he said, to himself, you know, as if he were thinking aloud, something about money; he used the word money. He said they'd never miss it. Then he thought of me, I suppose, and laughed and talked of something else. But that is what happened. She killed him. The husband wouldn't have the courage to do it. He is a mouse, that man. She has the strength; she could have killed him. I think they knew I was there. I . . ." She hesitated and then said very rapidly: "So I was afraid just now. So I was frightened when you said someone tried to push you into the sea." She turned to Marcia, flinging out her hands, speaking still very rapidly and somehow all at once, theatrically, so her words took on a falseness they had not previously had. "So you see, I screamed. I was terrified. I am afraid. Of the Cates woman. She killed him. She did it when she saw that this was an American ship. She knew that it was going to the United States. They are people of importance and of money. If their friends know they were Nazis, if it is in the papers, if anyone tells—well, they are kaput. Finished. All their lives. Do you see?"
It was, of course, true.
It did not square with anything Marcia had perceived or felt instinctively about Daisy Belle Cates, or about Luther. Yet it did square suddenly with certain other small facts. Daisy Belle had given the extra coat to Gili, and when Gili had said, but then, you'll have all the coats you want, or something of the kind, Daisy Belle had replied with a queer, bleak look in her face that she doubted it. Yet they had had money, a great deal of money. Theirs was one of the famous, moneyed families and had been for several generations. Did she doubt whether or not they would be permitted to claim that money?
There was the care Daisy Belle took of her jewels; not, somehow, as if she liked them as ornaments, but rather as if they might represent—well, food and clothing and shelter, the necessities of life. She had not struck Marcia as a woman who would actually care for jewels as jewels. It was a small, faint impression, but now it took on a certain validity. And there was Daisy Belle's solicitude about Luther, She loved him, obviously, and cared for him; but there was something else, something dimly felt that suggested trouble and anxiety.
But mainly there was the fact that they had worked so hard to get passage on the ship to Buenos Aires. With their money and connections, with their prominence as American citizens it would have been reasonable to expect them simply to stay on in Lisbon until their passage directly home and in comfort could have been arranged. Marcia realized suddenly that there had always been to her something incongruous, something a little questionable and mysterious about their presence on that ship bound for Buenos Aires.
All those things bore out Gili's accusation in a way that had a certain ugly authority. Yet, to offset that, there was Marcia's belief in Daisy Belle.
Neither of the men listening, of course, could have that belief. Mickey's experience had been such as to lead him to suspect everybody. To doubt everybody; to question every motive—every impulse, every word. It would be a long time before Mickey could possibly recover any sort of faith in such simple things as goodness and honesty.
But he believed her. He had come to her; he had made her, he told her, a symbol and a talisman. Marcia turned to him: "Daisy Belle is honest. She couldn't have been a Nazi. Ever."
Mickey got up, his white face taut and lined. Gili said with quick anger: "I heard it. That is what I heard. You don't believe me."
"Oh, yes," said Mickey. "We believe you. But"—he moved restively—"accusations, threats, all that—if only there were a little peace somewhere."
"The man was murdered, Messac," said Josh Morgan. "Someone attacked Miss Colfax; someone may have attacked you."
Mickey rubbed his face wearily. "I don't really think anyone attacked me. I think I slipped. And as for the Cates couple, I—well, I think Gili's mistaken. She doesn't understand English really well; she may have got things confused."
"I didn't," said Gili furiously. "I'm telling the truth. . . ."
Mickey said quickly and peaceably: "I didn't say you were lying. I only meant it's better not to do anything hastily."
Gili subsided with another sulky flash of her green eyes.
Josh Morgan said: "If whoever murdered Castiogne thinks that you saw it, Messac, or have evidence against him, he might attack you, or Miss Colfax, for the same reason. Don't you think we should tell Captain Svendsen Miss Duvrey's story?"
"No," cried Gili, rousing abruptly and changing her mind again. "No, I won't. I'm afraid to. You made me tell you; but I won't tell the Captain. I won't tell anybody. I'll deny it if you do."
And Marcia said suddenly: "No, please don't. Please wait. We can't do anything tonight anyway."
Josh Morgan said: "What about the two seamen? Who are they? Where are they? There were two seamen in the lifeboat, isn't that right?"
"Oh, yes." Mickey looked at the Air Force colonel somberly. "There were two seamen. Their names are Para and Urdiola. The Captain questioned them first. I don't know what he did with them."
Gili knew. She said with a sullen look that they were quartered with the seamen of the Magnolia.
"Still at liberty, then," said Josh Morgan.
"Yes," said Mickey. "I suppose so. I asked Captain Svendsen about them. It seemed to me that one of them must have killed Castiogne. He said he did not have proof of motive or means."
"He's trying to be fair," said Josh Morgan, "He was a common seaman himself once; he told me. He came up the hard way. He's not going to railroad them for murder until he's pretty damned sure."
"It was the Cates woman," said Gili sullenly. "It was the Cates woman. She's as strong as a man. She did it."
Josh Morgan started toward the door. "We'd better all go to bed," he said coolly. "It's very late. As to the Cates couple—I don't know. There may be some mistake. Let's wait."
"I agree," said Mickey. "We'll keep it to ourselves and no harm done."
"And be murdered in our beds," flashed Gili. She did not, however, actually look frightened now. Her skin had lost that sudden look of dampness, her eyes their flat, bright look of fright. She seemed, indeed, rather pleased and complacent. It was a singular small change, yet perceptible, so it puzzled Marcia. She could not, however, try to solve it, if there were any real solution beyond Gili's childish and yet nevertheless cunning and devious instincts. She rose and Mickey rose too, and put his arm lightly around her. "I feel sure you are right about Luther and Daisy Belle," he said. "Besides, anything you say is right with me."