Murder on the SS Rosa: a 1920s cozy historical mystery - an introductory novella

Strauss, Lee

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Ginger’s pulse leapt at the thought of the upcoming ballroom dance. She loved dancing almost as much as she loved fashion. She flipped through her gowns and placed them on her bed one by one.

Haley’s head bobbed up from her books. “What are you doing?”

“I can never decide exactly what to wear,” Ginger said.

“Can’t you examine your wardrobe without undoing all the work we went through to hang them up?”

Ginger’s attention moved from the dresses to Haley’s face. Her friend hadn’t sounded angry or frustrated, and Ginger was satisfied that she was merely interested in Ginger’s modus operandi.

“I need to see them in the light,” Ginger said. She rested a long, painted fingernail on her chin. “I’m waiting for one to call out to me.”

“Now I’m worried.”

Ginger shot Haley a look. “I’m not going crazy. At least not yet.”

“Noted.”

“It’s just that these dresses are all so gorgeous: I almost feel like I would be cheating one by selecting the other. You must help me decide.”

Haley cast her a look of helplessness. “You’ve a very nice selection of gowns, but—and don’t take this the wrong way—outside of colour, they all look the same to me.”

“Haley Higgins! That’s heresy!”

Haley snorted.

Ginger tried on a blue loose-fitting dress with a long, full skirt and a large, full-bloom starched rose fastened at the hip. She examined her reflection in the mirror, frowned, and discarded it.

“What was wrong with that one?”

“I don’t know. It just didn’t feel right.”

After two more attempts, Ginger felt she’d hit a home run with a gold, straight-lined chemise dress with two shimmering layers that flowed from the waist. It was tastefully decorated with tiny metal sequins, sleeveless, with a wide bateau neckline that accentuated the creamy contours around Ginger’s collarbones. She chose a very fashionable, beaded turban-like headdress and finished her look off with super-sheer hose and black strappy two-inch heels.

“How about this?”

“It’s great. You look beautiful.”

“That’s what you said about the others.”

Haley shrugged, but didn’t deny the charge.

Ginger looked at her friend dejectedly. “Oh, I miss Molly.”

Haley said grumpily, “I’m beginning to miss her too.”

Ginger, ignoring Haley’s veiled complaint, appealed to her appreciation of history. “Did you know the ballroom on this vessel used to be the triage room during the war?”

“Is that so?” Haley replied.

“Yes. The lives of many men were saved there by nurses like you.”

“Interesting.”

“Shouldn’t you like to come to see it?”

“Nope.”

Pfft, Haley, you’re impossible.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“You’re sure I can’t convince you to come along? It seems a shame for you to miss such an elegant event.”

“Dances are really of no interest to me,” Haley said. “I’d rather stay in and read.”

“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” Ginger said twirling on the tips of her shoes. “In this case. it makes Haley a dull girl."

“I’m sure you'll have enough fun for both of us.” Haley leaned back and propped bare feet onto an empty chair. “I'm assuming that the dashing Chief Inspector will be there?”

“It's quite likely,” Ginger said. “He is a fine dancer after all. But don't think for a minute that I'm going to spend my evening dancing with him. There are plenty of gentlemen onboard to keep me occupied until the early morning hours.”

“I’m almost tempted to come just to watch you. You’re a delightful spectacle on the dance floor.”

“Does that mean you’ve changed your mind?” Ginger asked hopefully.

Haley smirked. “I’m afraid not.”

* * *

One truly had to use their imagination to picture the ballroom as a bloody, noisy triage centre. All traces of death and dying had been painted over and polished. The wooden floor glistened under the lights of the chandeliers that hung from an ornate ceiling. Plush, upholstered chairs in rich greens and pinks sat in clusters along the walls. The bar in the back was made of rich mahogany, with brass rails to hold in flyaway glasses.

Ginger spotted Roy Hardy working at the bar and strolled over. He was dressed in a crisp, clean uniform, and his red hair was neatly combed over from a straight side parting.

“Mr. Hardy,” she said in greeting.

“Good evening, Mrs. Gold,” Roy Hardy returned with a friendly smile. “Might I get you something to drink?”

“Yes, please. A glass of your best champagne.”

“Most certainly.”

Ginger watched him as he skilfully popped the cork, poured several ounces into a tall flute, and handed it to her.

“How did it go with Miss Chloe?” she asked.

Roy Hardy’s face flushed crimson. “I did as you said, madam.”

“And?”

“It’s hard to say. We’re now formally introduced, but I’m no more certain as to whether I’ve turned her heart.”

“Baby steps, Mr. Hardy.”

“Madam, is there something I should do next?”

Ginger nodded. “You must do some investigating on your own as to when Miss Chloe takes her lunch break. Then arrange for yourself to have a break during that time. When you see her, ask if you can join her. If she says yes, you have your answer that she is interested. If she makes an excuse, or agrees, but without a smile, the answer is no.”

Roy Hardy swallowed hard. “I think my stomach will not be able to handle a meal either way.”

“Better to know where you stand upfront, no? If she’s not interested, you won’t waste your time any further. There are plenty of other girls who would be happy to spend time with you.

Roy Hardy waited a beat before asking, “Do you think so?”

The young waiter had little in the way of self-confidence, and Ginger was determined to bolster it.

“Absolutely, Mr. Hardy. You’re ambitious, intelligent, and handsome. You must see yourself as such and move forward boldly.”

“Thank you, madam,” Roy Hardy said, smiling ear to ear. “Thank you, so very much.”

Ginger did as she had promised Haley and spent half the evening dancing with every available gentleman who was willing, but not Chief Inspector Reed. It came to a point when he was among the few left who had not asked her to dance. Ginger was tempted to harbour offence at this slight. She found herself seeking him out in the room despite her current dancing partner, and chastised herself for this weakness, even though she found that the chief inspector was doing the same. It was quite ridiculous how they both pretended to ignore each other.

Eventually he crossed the room and asked for a dance. She held up a gloved hand and obliged.

“You’ve been quite busy on your feet tonight, Mrs. Gold. I hope you still have a morsel of energy left to spare for me?”

“I believe I do, Chief Inspector.”

Ginger placed her hand on Basil Reed’s shoulder as he gently placed one of his on her upper back. Their alternate hands joined, and Basil Reed expertly waltzed her across the ballroom floor.

“Have you gotten any further on the case, Chief Inspector Reed?” Ginger asked.

“You certainly get right to the point,” he said. He hesitated as if he was wrestling with himself, whether he should share his findings with her, and in the end, he relented.

“I interviewed Miss Patty Applebalm, and she revealed to me that she is not only Miss Guilford’s assistant, but is also related by blood. Miss Guilford is her sister’s daughter.”

“I had guessed as much.” Ginger didn’t feel it prudent to mention that she too had queried the woman.

“Had you?”

“Indeed. I perceived a familiarity between the two women that went beyond an employer and her employee. It was natural to assume that there was a kinship somewhere.” On Basil Reed’s look of doubt, she added, “Miss Higgins can confirm my suspicions.”

He inhaled, accepting Ginger’s explanation. “It seems that the Applebalm family were humble farmers in Eastern America. Apparently, Miss Guilford works hard to keep this fact out of the press.” He cocked his head. “Did you perceive that as well?”

“I’m afraid not,” Ginger said. “I am a good study of character, but I have yet to master mind reading.”

“I’m relieved to hear that, Mrs. Gold. I was beginning to think that you were some kind of mystical creature and not flesh and blood.”

Ginger broke into her sprightly laugh. “There is nothing to fear there, my dear Chief Inspector. I am as human as you are.”

“Yet above average, I would say. I regret that I must confess to having made inquiries about you.” As an afterthought, he added, “As I have with all my suspects.”

Ginger pulled back and stared into Basil Reed’s eyes. “Oh?”

“It seems that you have more skills than you let on. Skills that came in handy during the war.”

Ginger kept her expression blank. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“It seems that even Scotland Yard can’t access the total of your files. Your activities were quite confidential.

Ginger smiled playfully. “I feel you have me mistaken for someone else. My task during the war was simple. I operated the telephone switchboard in France, nothing more.”

Basil Reed didn’t respond. They swirled around the floor in silence until the song ended. Ginger couldn’t be sure just how much the chief inspector knew about her covert activities during the war, but that was no longer her concern. She kept her side of the bargain by remaining silent.

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