CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Nancy Guilford took up a position at the rail looking out to sea. She fished out a cigarette—not bothering with a holder—lit the tip and inhaled deeply. She released a puff of smoke through her bright red, lipstick-laden lips and promptly inhaled again. Ginger thought this an indication that Nancy Guilford’s encounter with Mrs. Walsh unnerved her.

Ginger tugged on Boss’s leash as she got to her feet. She nodded towards the actress and Haley followed.

“Hello,” Ginger called out.

Nancy Guilford eyed Ginger and Haley cautiously as they approached. “Hello, ladies, how are ya?”

“Terrific,” Ginger said. “Such a lovely day.”

“Especially after yesterday’s storm,” Nancy said. “Poor Patty was in the toilet the whole time, emptying her stomach.”

“Beyond that unfortunate patch of weather, it’s been a particularly pleasant summer,” Haley said. “I’m happy to have escaped the humidity.”

“You can say that again,” Nancy said as she released another puff of smoke “Which is why I so much prefer the West Coast. Los Angeles has delightfully dry summers.”

“What brings you to England?” Ginger asked.

“My agent wants to introduce me to an important playwright. He believes I would be perfect for the lead in an upcoming production.”

Ginger found that hard to imagine with the calf-like sound of the actress’s voice, but said, “Sounds exciting.”

Nancy shrugged and let her cigarette fall into the ocean. “It’s work.”

Patty approached, still looking a tad green around the gills. “Here’s your coffee, Miss Guilford,” she said, handing Nancy a mug. Nancy took it without a word of thanks, and Ginger wondered what she had on Patty Applebalm that she could get the older woman to wait on her hand and foot like that.

Patty waited for further instructions, and when none came, settled herself onto one of the lounge chairs.

Ginger lowered her voice. “Has Patty been with you long?”

“Oh, Patty?” Nancy glanced at her assistant. “Sure. She’s a trouper. No family to speak of, so I never have to worry about her ditchin’ me. I treat her decent-like, ya know. For a woman her age, there ain’t a lot of good jobs around.”

Nancy Guilford had her story down when it came to her pseudo-relationship with her aunt.

“I’m certain she is quite in your debt,” Ginger said.

Nancy’s eyes flashed with something hard to define before she changed the subject. “What are you gals gonna do in England? Gonna take in any theatre? I hear they’ve got some great plays.”

“No, nothing so exciting as that,” Ginger said. She recounted her father’s passing and her subsequent need to handle the estate, and Haley’s entry into medical school.

“Wowza,” Nancy said loudly. “A lady doctor! I’m impressed.” Ginger believed Nancy to be sincere in her proclamation because her thinly veiled interest in the plainer woman disappeared. She now considered Haley with real admiration.

“Could I enquire,” Ginger said, “has Chief Inspector Reed given you any clue as to who might be behind the captain’s death? Or who might be behind the blackmail?”

Nancy stiffened at the question, then fell into her role play and smiled. “No, but I wish he would. And ain’t he just the most dashing man! I promised to meet up with him in London for drinks.”

The thought of Basil Reed seeing Nancy Guilford socially did something strange to Ginger’s stomach, but she ignored it and pressed on. “I’m sure he’ll show you a good time.”

A late afternoon breeze stirred, tangling loose strands of Nancy’s golden hair. “It’s been nice chatting, but I need to get out of the wind.” She motioned to Patty. “A scarf.”

Patty peeled herself off the chair and returned to Nancy, carrying a leather satchel. As Nancy began to walk away, Patty reached into the bag to retrieve a colourful silk scarf. She passed it to Nancy, who pulled it over her head and tied it underneath her chin. She finger-waved with long, delicate fingers. “See ya around!”

Ginger and Haley watched them go.

“Interesting,” Haley said.

Boss stretched out on his leash and sniffed at a small object on the deck floor. Ginger hurried to examine the item and picked it up. “Good boy, Boss.”

“What is it?” Haley asked.

“It must’ve caught on Nancy’s scarf.” Ginger held up a lone cuff link, its fleur de lis insignia flashing in the rays of the setting sun. “I think I know who the killer couple is.”