Murder on the Caronia by Conrad Allen Read Free Book Online Page B

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Thirty Years a Detective
. It was a revelation to me. I know that Mr. Pinkerton’s book deals with the past but most of his observations are still relevant today.”
    “Such as?”
    “Well, he does stress the value of going undercover,” Dillman said pointedly. “His operatives were trained to pass themselves off in various guises in order to get inside the criminal fraternity. That’s how the Molly Maguires were brought down. If a Pinkerton man hadn’t infiltrated them, their reign of terror would have gone on.”
    “We have our own methods. As you’ve seen, they work.”
    “All I saw were two frightened people being herded onto the ship like lambs to the slaughter. I’m surprised you didn’t have them in chains as well.”
    Mulcaster was roused. “If it were left to me, I’d have handcuffed them.”
    “I’m sure you would.”
    “Killers deserve no quarter.”
    “Their guilt has yet to be proved in a court of law.”
    “What would you do, Mr. Dillman?” sneered Mulcaster. “Put them together in a first-class cabin so they could gloat over the way they murdered that woman?”
    “No, Sergeant, but I would treat them as human beings.”
    Mulcaster snorted. “You’d treat Jack the Ripper as a human being!”
    “I would,” Dillman said easily. “A very bad example of the breed, but one of us nevertheless. And the next time you pour scorn on Allan Pinkerton for failing to save President Lincoln, you might recall your own record with regard to the gentleman we just mentioned. The assassin and his accomplices were all caught and punished. But with all its resources, Scotland Yard seems quite unable to find any credible evidence as to the identity of Jack the Ripper.” Dillman gave him a farewell smile. “As you say, Sergeant Mulcaster, you have your own methods.”
    He walked away and left his companion fuming in silence. It had not been the happiest of strolls. In the course of his tour, Dillman had spoken to only two people but both had been disagreeable. The bluntness of Wes Odell was complemented by the gruff disdain of Sergeant Mulcaster. Neither man wouldqualify for a post that entailed tact and diplomacy. Dillman still hoped to spend more time with the amenable Inspector Redfern, but he promised himself that he would dodge Mulcaster whenever he could. After a look around the empty lower deck, he made his way back up through the ship, wondering if Theodore Wright was still cycling away above him. It seemed a strange way to enjoy a trip on a Cunard liner.
    It was only when he reached his cabin that Dillman became conscious of how tired he was. Suppressing a yawn, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. Before he could close the door behind him, however, he heard a noise farther down the corridor and paused. It was now well past midnight, an unlikely time for anyone to be about. Applying his eye to the crack between the door and the frame, he saw a man emerging furtively from a cabin with a small case in his hand. After glancing up and down, the man scurried along the corridor. Dillman saw the smile of elation on his face as he passed. Dillman was astounded. Earlier that evening, the same person had sat beside him throughout dinner with the lugubrious expression proper to his trade.
    It was Ramsey Leach, the undertaker.
    News of the first crime reached Genevieve Masefield as she was finishing her breakfast in the restaurant. A steward delivered a note from Paul Taggart. As soon as she had read it, she got up from the table. She met Isadora Singleton at the door.
    “Oh,” said Isadora with disappointment, “are you going?”
    “I’m afraid so.”
    “I was hoping to have breakfast with you. Mother and Father are having theirs in the cabin but I was sure that you’d be here. Must you leave?”
    “I have an appointment with someone,” said Genevieve.
    “That means I’ll miss you for
two
meals.”
    “Two?”
    “Yes, Genevieve. My parents are having lunch served in their cabin as well.