The Pleasure Cruise Mystery Read Online Free Page A

of being all eyes, a mobile moustache and a large diamond ring. Later he passed on his round a man and woman whom he at once recognised from Ricardo’s description as Mr. and Mrs. Colvin. They were walking arm in arm, and Colvin’s red face seemed unduly serious and preoccupied. They were conversing in undertones, and from the expression on Mrs. Colvin’s soft features the subject was evidently distasteful to her. From the passengers Vereker’s thoughts reverted to his own personal affairs. He was engrossed in them when his attention was attracted by a spasmodic hooting on the starboard. It was the warning siren of the Girdler Light. He ceased walking and leaned over the rails, gazing at the ship with idle curiosity, when he was joined by Ricardo.
    â€œDamned thing woke me up,” said Manuel. “Sounds like a cow with milk fever. I was dreaming I was back at Chalk Farm, where my landlady used to keen periodically for her sons lost in the Irish rebellion. What’s the book?”
    â€œThe Edwardians . Have you read it?”
    â€œYes. Jolly good, but I’m now wandering wearily through the Crystal Palace of fiction built by John Galsworthy. To change the subject, it’s time for tea in the garden lounge and I’m going to get busy with my future playmates.”
    â€œI’m going to dump this book in my cabin, Ricky, and will join you in the lounge for tea,” said Vereker and, leaving his friend, lightly ascended the companion to the upper promenade deck. As he passed along the alleyway to his cabin, No. 88, a woman swiftly emerged from No. 90 and hurried into No. 89. She was still dressed in her shepherd’s tartan tweed suit, and one glance at her figure informed Vereker that she was Mrs. Mesado. She seemed eager to avoid meeting a fellow passenger and disappeared without giving him an opportunity for close observation. On returning to the garden lounge he found Ricardo sitting at the same table as the Argentine lady and her mother, talking volubly over tea to the daughter, who, evidently amused by his light chatter, took every opportunity of displaying a dazzlingly beautiful mouthful of teeth. Vereker chose a seat in a secluded corner of the lounge and was joined at his table by a Scotsman called Ferguson, whose conversation was a questionnaire as to his views on the modern conception of God. Tiring at length of this examination, Vereker lit a cigarette, excused himself and sauntered out on to the deck once more. He felt idle and a trifle bored and began to wonder why he had allowed Ricardo to persuade him into entering on this adventure. Of course the lands of “mystery, sunshine and romance” were ahead, but at the moment they appeared insufferably remote. He glanced at his watch. It was half-past five. Suddenly a commotion among the travellers attracted his attention. He joined the eagerly chattering throng to discover that Gris Nez had suddenly thrust its impressive mass through the haze. Later in the evening a blast from the “Mars’s” siren called attention to the approach of a pilot boat from Boulogne. The white, red and green stars of her lights were reflected in twisted beauty on the sombre ripple of the sea. The simplicity of the dark outline of the boat and the brilliance of the colours awakened his artistic appreciation.
    â€œNice little subject for a decorative poster,” he thought.
    The pilot boat sheered off and the lights of Boulogne swam into view, a diadem of ruby, gold and emerald on the swiftly darkening sky. Away on the port side the lighthouse on Gris Nez exploded intermittently with dazzling radiance. At length Vereker went below to dress, and as he passed Mrs. Mesado’s cabin door, which was partly open, he caught a glimpse of her putting the final touches to her toilet assisted by her maid. She was wearing a pale blue georgette evening gown, and beneath her neatly trimmed hair there glittered on the white nape of her