Murder at the Castle Read Free Page B

to do. Wait here for her? Take her life jacket and try to find her?
    She had heard the announcement. Would she come back here or head straight for the boat deck? There were extra life jackets, weren’t there?
    Another lurch made him realize there was no time to waste. He took the pad by the bedside table, wasted precious moments searching for the pen, which had rolled off, and quickly scribbled: ‘Delia. Gone to boat deck. Have your jacket. Come at once!’
    He affixed it to the door with one of the brooches from her jewel box and hurried to the stairs.
    He thought he’d never get down to the boat deck. The metal stairs from his deck were in truth little more than the ladders they were officially called, and they were jammed with people. Many had ignored instructions and donned their life jackets, and were having trouble manoeuvring the bulk through tight places. It didn’t help that the treads were tilting markedly, and many of the women still had on their high heels.
    Stewards did their best to keep the crowd moving, but now that high note of hysteria was beginning to sound clearly.
God help us
, John said under his breath, not certain whether it was exclamation or prayer.
    â€˜I can’t!’ It was a shrill scream, coming from the woman in front of him. She was, he saw, the woman who had spoken with him at the party. She was at the head of the ladder down to the boat deck, and she was paralyzed with fright.
    â€˜Here, I’ll help you,’ he said, with all the calm he could muster. ‘Take off your shoes. It’ll be easier. And I’ll be right behind you. I won’t let you fall. Is your life jacket fastened securely? Then I’ll hold on to the back straps. You won’t fall.’
    It meant he had to put on his own. He couldn’t carry it, hold the railing, and hold the woman at the same time. It also meant he must drop Delia’s life jacket.
    He gave a despairing look around for her, but the scene by now was utter chaos. The crew was having trouble lowering the lifeboats on the starboard side, with the ship now listing heavily to port.
    He took a firm grasp of the woman’s life jacket and followed her, cajoling, soothing, talking her down the ladder.
    Once on the deck, he was at a loss. The passengers were being loaded on to the boats as fast as it could be managed. Many were refusing to board. The boats certainly didn’t look very safe, hanging as they now did against the side of the ship. How could they be safely lowered to the water?
    And he couldn’t board yet. He must find Delia.
    â€˜This way, sir.’
    â€˜I can’t. My wife—’
    â€˜Someone will look after your wife. There’s no time, sir! She’s going down!’
    â€˜You don’t understand! I must—’
    And then the lights went out.
    Screams. Panic. The press of bodies. The stink of fear. Then . . . nothing.

PART ONE
Ten years later

ONE
    â€˜H ow would you like to go to a Welsh music festival?’
    â€˜An eisteddfod? Or however you pronounce it. I find the Welsh language even more difficult than most Celtic tongues.’
    Nigel grinned. ‘Well, you’re close, except that double d is pronounced
th
and the
f
is a
v
.’ He pronounced it correctly.
    It was the hard
th
as in
them
and
there
. ‘Ice-teth-vawd,’ I imitated tentatively.
    â€˜Yes, well . . . anyway, this isn’t a real eisteddfod I’m inviting you to. They focus on solo competitions, largely, and include a good deal of poetry reading. Usually in Welsh.’ He grinned again, more broadly, at the expression on my face. ‘No, this one is much more to your taste, I’d think. There’ll be music of all kinds, solo and ensemble, but it isn’t a competition, just a festival. It’s in aid of the RNLI—’
    â€˜What’s that?’ I interrupted.
    â€˜Sorry, the Royal National Lifeboat Institution. You know, the ones who do sea