Ginger couldn’t keep from repeatedly glancing at the chief inspector who sat by himself on the other side of the breakfast room.

“Just admit it,” Haley said with a grin. “You find him intriguing.”

“I’ll admit to no such thing!” Ginger sipped her coffee and deflected. “I wasn’t looking at him. I merely caught sight of my new friend, Roy Hardy.”

Haley glanced over her shoulder to confirm that the redheaded waiter was indeed working in the area where Chief Inspector Reed was busy reading a newspaper.

Ginger cast Haley a defiant look, then added, “I promised him I’d help him out with his heart’s desire, but this murder case has preoccupied my thoughts and I haven’t come up with a single idea.”

Haley held out both of her palms, alternately raising and lowering them like a scale. “Murder, romance. Both not your business, I might add.”

“Pfft.” Ginger’s eyes betrayed her and sought out the chief inspector. He happened to glance up at the exact moment, and their gaze locked for a split second before she quickly looked away. She felt appalled. She was caught staring. What was the matter with her? Her skills since the war had slipped in dramatic measures! That was what five years of leisure would do, she supposed.

“What do you make of that baby photo?” Haley said. She, at least, could keep her mind steady on the case.

“I can’t be certain it belonged to the woman Scout witnessed throwing the heavy item overboard,” Ginger said with a sigh. “It could be merely coincidental that the child’s name matched the captain’s.”

“Joseph is a common name.” Haley held her near-empty coffee cup high and took the final sip. “And as far as we know, none of our suspects are parents.”

“Perhaps it’s a photo of a nephew.”

“Or was dropped accidentally by someone else entirely and your little friend was mistaken about it coming from the mystery woman.”

“Exactly. It might be a distraction rather than a clue.”

Haley rose. “I’ll leave you to your meddling, Mrs. Gold. Do find me if you discover anything juicy. And please, refrain from getting yourself killed.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Ginger adjusted her cloche—a felt bell-shaped hat with virtually no rim—and donned her gloves. She wasn’t quite ready to go, and she waved Roy Hardy over.

“More coffee, please.”

“Yes, madam.”

The waiter returned in short order and refilled Ginger’s cup. She took the opportunity to engage him, whispering conspiratorially. “I’ve hired a lad from steerage to walk my dog, Boss. He’s been instructed to meet Miss Chloe in front of my room at ten thirty—the boy has a pocket watch and is uncommonly timely. Go to number 45 under the pretence of delivering a bottle of wine at my request. However, I’ll not be there, so give the bottle to Miss Chloe to place in my room.”

Roy Hardy smiled. “Yes, madam.”

“There is something imperative that you must do when you get there.”

The waiter’s expression grew serious. “Anything.”

“You must introduce yourself to Miss Chloe.”

Roy Hardy’s face blanched and then reddened. “Madam? I don’t...”

“Those are my terms. You’ve already engaged in conversation. Simply add these words, ‘We’ve not been formally introduced. I’m Roy Hardy.’ Can you do that?”

The waiter threw his shoulders back in determination. “Yes, madam.”

“Good. Make it a fine French cabernet sauvignon, will you?”

Ginger’s focus returned to the chief inspector, and this time she didn’t glance away when he caught her looking. He folded his paper, tucked it under his arm, placed his bowler hat on his head, and walked towards her.

“Good morning, Mrs. Gold,” he said when he reached her.

She smiled up at him. “Good morning, Chief Inspector.”

He pointed to Haley’s vacated chair. “May I?”

“Of course.”

“Sleep well?” he asked politely.

“I did. You?”

“Like a log. I think it’s the fresh sea air.”

“The case doesn’t keep you awake? I confess to finding it difficult to shut off my mind.”

“Not at all. Rather, a good night’s rest often is the key to solving a case. It’s amazing what puzzles unlock the next morning over a good cup of coffee.”

Ginger raised her cup. “And the coffee here is quite good.”

“I agree.”

She cocked her head coyly. “So, did you unlock the case?”

“Since you’re so keen, perhaps I should ask you the same question?”

“I’ve been thinking about Miss Guilford. What if her motive isn’t love or spite, but money? Perhaps the captain left something to her in his will? Maybe he broke things off with her, and she wanted to make sure that he didn’t change the will when he returned to London.”

Chief Inspector Reed inclined his head. “You are full of ideas, Mrs. Gold.”

“I do read a lot of detective novels.”

Her admission didn’t get a nod of approval from the chief inspector.

“Yes, well, I see you’ve put some thought into this.”

“It’s obviously either Miss Guilford and Officer MacIntosh, or Mrs. Walsh and Babineaux.”

“You are rather sure of yourself,” Basil Reed said.

“I could be wrong on the matchup,” Ginger added, “but I’m confident it’s a team.”

“One strong man could’ve carried this crime out on his own.”

“Even a strong man would have had trouble lugging a dead body from the captain's bedroom down several decks to the ship’s pantry.”

Chief Inspector Reed paused for a beat as he studied her. “How do you know the captain was killed in his bedroom?”

“Oh,” Ginger said calmly, as if her trespass was of no consequence. “Miss Higgins and I visited with Mrs. Walsh to extend our condolences and to offer our assistance. Mrs. Walsh mentioned the captain’s adjoining stateroom. When Mrs. Walsh was indisposed”—Ginger made it sound like Mrs. Walsh had just stepped out to powder her nose—“Miss Higgins and I took a peek in the captain’s room. We saw a bloodstain on the carpet.”

Chief Inspector Reed leaned back and uttered a sigh. “I’m not sure if I should be impressed or distressed by your interference into this investigation.”

“Impressed, absolutely! And rest assured we never touched anything. We left everything as it was. We understand how modern forensics work. Were you able to collect fingerprints?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. However, since I lack an investigative team, I had to dust for prints myself. Unfortunately, I won’t get data on them until after I return to the Yard.”

“Have you identified the murder weapon?”

The chief inspector cleared this throat. “As of yet, it hasn’t been located.”

“I have a witness who observed a woman throw a heavy item overboard. It was about the size of a candleholder.”

“You have a witness? Do tell!”

“Chief Inspector, I can’t give my confidential informers away.”

Basil Reed grunted in exasperation. “What makes you think the murder weapon was a candleholder?”

“One was missing in the captain’s room. Surely you noticed that?”

“I did. I just didn’t expect you to.”

Ginger glared at him. “I’m not a silly, empty-minded woman, Basil Reed. I have a degree!”

Chief Inspector Reed’s jaw slackened. “My apologies,” he said. He had the decency to look sufficiently contrite. “I didn’t mean to offend. Young girls these days seem unable to take anything seriously, it’s just all parties and fun. I shouldn’t have judged you.”

Ginger allowed for a small smile. “Apology accepted. But I’ll have you know I’m not that young. I’m twenty-nine.” Actually, she had turned thirty the month previous, but she couldn’t quite make herself admit to it.

The chief inspector who was a good decade her senior, only nodded. “So, did your witness identify the woman?”

“Alas, her back was to him and she wore a large hat. And the sun was in his eyes.”

“Convenient.”

“I trust him implicitly.”

Basil Reed crossed his legs and held a finger to his chin. “Just because a woman throws an item overboard, doesn’t mean it’s linked to this case.”

“I agree,” Ginger said. “Only, the murder weapon is still missing, so until it’s found, we can’t dismiss it.”

“Fine. It only means a woman could be involved, which we’ve already concluded was a possibility.”

“It points to the woman being responsible for bludgeoning the captain. Her accomplice may just have been recruited to help dispose of the body.”

“Which takes us back to your theory of a perpetrator team.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, Chief Inspector Gold,” Basil Reed said with a sly grin. “What would you do next?”

Ginger smiled brightly. “I’d interview the cook.”