“And then?”
“Then a crew member — Mr. Luckner — came up; he must have been standing in the shadows, fairly close by, because he was there so quickly, and I hadn’t seen him on deck, and then Mr. Clifford came, and… and… well, you know the rest.”
“I see. You never heard the word ‘Murder’?”
“No, sir.”
“Thank you, Mr. Loeb. I think that’s all. You may step down.” The captain’s head swiveled again. “Mr. Luckner?”
Luckner took the seat. The captain considered the scarred face without much enthusiasm; it had struck the captain from the first that an able seaman such as Luckner, first of the crew on the scene, should not have waited for the fourth officer to go to the rescue. On the other hand, maybe the man couldn’t swim; many of the crew couldn’t.
“Mr. Luckner, what can you tell us of this tragedy?”
Fay broke in, staring at the floor, her face blank. Her voice sounded drugged. “He wasn’t depressed at all. He was happy. He was looking forward…” Her voice faded into silence.
The captain swung about, surprised. “I beg your pardon?”
But Fay had gone back into her narcosis. The captain sighed and came back to Carl Luckner.
“Mr. Luckner, what can you tell us of this tragedy?”
Luckner spread his hands, all servility. “Very little, sir. I was taking a breather on deck, sir — oh, out of sight of the passengers, I assure you, sir — and I also heard sounds—”
“Sounds?”
“Like Mr. Loeb, the gentleman there, said, a sort of scraping sound—”
“Did you hear any voices?” The captain leaned forward a bit. “Did you hear, for instance, the word, ‘Murder’?”
“No, sir. I did hear something called out, but I couldn’t swear it was any particular word.”
“Could the word have been, ‘Barney’?”
“It… it could have been anything, sir. I couldn’t say. The wind was picking up, you see, sir…”
“I see. Go on.”
“Yes, sir. Well, sir, I heard this sound so I walked aft to see what was going on, and I saw what looked like Mr. Loeb here, trying to assist another man who was partly over the rail, sir. And then, just as I came up, the man seemed to slip out of Mr. Loeb’s hands and fall into the sea, and then Mr. Clifford came up while Mr. Loeb was shouting, ‘Man overboard!’ and—” He paused. “Well, sir, that’s about it. Mr. Clifford jumped into the sea after him. I threw a life preserver after him, sir, but Mr. Clifford apparently didn’t see it—”
“Very commendable,” the captain said dryly.
“Thank you, sir.”
The captain looked about the saloon, from one quiet face to another. “Did anyone else here see anything? From your stateroom porthole, for example?”
There was silence. The captain heaved a great sigh.
“Death by misadventure,” he said, almost as if to himself. He wrote in his log for several minutes while the deadly silence held, and then came to his feet, his eyes on the dazed Fay Barnato, sitting in a slump in her chair. He looked up. “Ladies and gentlemen, the inquiry is over. If any of you have any second thoughts, or recall any further details at a later date, my cabin is open to you at all times.” He looked at Fay with sympathy and then looked up again. “Doctor, if you would be so kind as to see Mrs. Barnato to her cabin…”
The morning sun reflected itself from the now-calm sea; the Scott moved steadily on the glasslike waters, with land a mere faint line on the horizon to the east. Solly Loeb, his after-breakfast cigar in his mouth, leaned on the taffrail and stared thoughtfully down at the ship’s wake without seeing it. With Barney gone, his problems were not necessarily ended; it was essential that he get back to Johannesburg as soon as possible and straighten things out, make sure that rumors didn’t reach London before he could get things in hand once again. Of course he could scarcely be in London without spending time with the family, and there was the matter of Fay; it was essential that she be gotten on his side, but simple commiseration with her loss should do that. It was lucky that Barney had not had a chance to inform Harry or the others of the facts, but the fact was he hadn’t. But getting back to Jo’burg as soon as possible was still essential. A telegraph arranged to call him back for something urgent ought to do the trick—
“Mr. Loeb?”
Solly looked up, annoyed to have his thoughts interrupted. Standing beside him with a smirk on his scarred face, was Carl Luckner. Solly frowned. “Yes? What is it?”
“I thought we might have a few words,” Luckner said smoothly, “in view of the fact that my testimony was so helpful to you last night. In fact, I should think it would be worth quite a bit to you.”
Solly’s frown deepened. “What do you mean?”
Luckner shrugged. “I mean I could just as easily have testified that you were pushing old Barney over the rail rather than trying to save him—”
“What!”
“You heard me!” Luckner said harshly, all smoothness gone, his scarred face hard. “I can go to the captain right now and say that, now that I think about it, it looked more like you were pushing him over rather than trying to pull him back! I can say that now that I think about it, it very well might have been the word ‘Murder’ I heard! And how would you like that?”
Solly had been listening with only half his attention; his mind had been racing.
“I see!” he said softly. “You’ve hated Barney since the Paris Hotel! And last night I thought you got there in a hurry! You killed him and started to push him over the rail, and then got away and hid in the shadows when you heard me coming! And then you suddenly thought how smart it would be to be a witness, and you came back!”
Luckner smiled grimly.
“If you think you can get away with a story that thin,” he said with a sneer, “just try it! And I’ll be pleased to watch you hang. All Jo’burg knows you’ve been putting the screws to Barnato for years, and that he finally got wise. He was taking you back to England to face the music; you think that was a secret? When it was a newspaperman who put Barnato on the wise, you think it was a secret? You’re a fool, Loeb! So I had a disagreement with Barnato years ago, so what? He saved my life, didn’t he, up in Pretoria? Who would believe I’d do anything to the man who saved my life, eh? But you? Your life was saved when he went over the rail. Think of that when you’re standing in the dock and the judge is putting on that black cap!” He shook his head. “No, I think you would be a lot happier with the ‘death by misadventure’ the captain was kind enough to write in his log!”
Solly stared at him, his face white. “What… what d’you want?”
“I’ll think about it and let you know before we reach England,” Luckner said. He started to turn and then turned back. “And don’t think I’ll ever go over the rail as easily,” he added meaningfully, and swaggered away.
And Fay Barnato sat in her cabin, stunned, thinking of life without Barney Barnato for ever and ever, with Leah Primrose to raise, and a Jason or a Michelle — or both — soon to be added to the fatherless family. She took a deep, shuddering breath and came to her feet. She had faced hard times before, and hard decisions; life had not always been easy. What would Barney have done; what would Barney have wanted her to do? There was still Leah Primrose to raise, and the child she was carrying, and only her to do it. A start had to be made, and telling Leah Primrose in some manner the child might understand that her father was gone and would never be back, was one way to make that start. She looked at herself in the mirror, surprised to see she had not changed appreciably, and opening the cabin door stepped into the companionway.