Murder at the Castle Read Free Page A

corner, inaudible until now over the party babble, continued with a few wavering chords and then stopped playing.
    A man in uniform stepped up to the microphone. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has asked me to make his apologies. He has gone to the bridge to see what is the matter. Though it’s unlikely in the extreme that there is any danger, he asks you all to remain calm, return to your cabins, and wait for further instructions. I’m sorry to say that dinner may be slightly delayed, but please help yourself to more hors d’oeuvres on your way out of the room.’
    That light-hearted remark did much to allay the passengers’ fears. There was a good deal of ‘But what’s happened?’ and general grumbling, but John’s trained ear didn’t pick up the rising note that would indicate panic.
    The woman who had spoken to him about Delia had vanished, presumably back to her cabin as requested. John looked around for Delia, but couldn’t find her in the crowd that was heading for the rapidly emptying hors d’oeuvre tables and then for the doors.
    He hesitated, then headed for the stairs. Delia was not easily frightened, and she could make her way back to the stateroom without him. He only hoped she had the sense to take the stairs. The lifts were going to be in heavy use.
    As he passed them, however, he saw that stewards were directing everyone to the stairs. ‘A precaution, ladies and gentlemen, only a precaution. In case the electrical service might be temporarily interrupted.’
    John felt the first pang of unease. Under what circumstances might the electrical service be interrupted? A fire?
    Nonsense. Something untoward had probably happened in the engine room. A misbehaving engine might very well make a shudder like that, and since the engines presumably generated the electricity, they might have to shut it off for a moment or two.
    He went up a few steps and then turned to take another look around for Delia. Ah, there she was! She was still in the ballroom, still surrounded by admirers. They were shepherding her toward the stairs. She seemed reluctant to go. He waved to try to catch her attention, but she was laughing and talking and didn’t see him.
    He went on up to the stateroom, where they had a balcony. He opened the door and went out.
    There was a good deal of shouting on deck, which increased John’s anxiety by another notch. The crew on a luxury cruise ship did not shout. He could see nothing amiss, except that the ship seemed to have stopped, but on reflection, he went back into the room and quickly changed from his dress suit into slacks and a warm sweater. Then he went to the closet and, feeling more than a little foolish, took out two life jackets.
    He wished Delia would come. Probably she’d be there in a few minutes.
    He stepped across to the stateroom door, and stumbled. Surely there had been a bit of a lurch? That was odd. They weren’t moving.
    But they
were
moving. John watched as the carafe of ice water slid slowly across the bedside table, stopping against the low barrier that edged the table.
    An alarm sounded, a hideous electronic noise that penetrated to his very soul. After a moment it stopped and a voice came over the public address system.
    â€˜This is the captain speaking. All passengers are to bring life jackets and report to the boat deck immediately. Repeat: all passengers report to the boat deck with life jackets immediately. Do not put on your life jacket until you reach the boat deck. This is not a drill. Repeat: this is not a drill.’
    Feeling disoriented and somehow empty, John took one more look from his balcony. The crew members were still shouting, but this time their shouts were purposeful. They were removing the covers from the lifeboats and preparing to launch them. And as John watched, the boat gave another lurch. It was now noticeably listing to port.
    Where was Delia? Frantically he tried to decide what