Murder on the Mauretania Read Online Free Page B

head. “Do you want the full story, or will you settle for the shorter version?”
    “The shorter one, please.”
    “Then the truth is that I felt Cunard owed me a silver cruet. At the very least.”
    “Why?”
    “Because they managed to lose some of my baggage on the voyage from New York. God knows how. I mean, they load the stuff into the hold and they take it out again at the other end. How could it possibly go astray?”
    “Pilfering is not unknown,” said Dillman impassively. “Besides, I can’t believe that you didn’t insure the baggage against loss or breakage. The rates are very low.”
    “Yeah. Everything was insured. But it takes an age for the dough to come through. In any case, some of the things they lost were irreplaceable. They had sentimental value. Rachel will be real upset.”
    “Rachel?”
    “My wife,” he said, heaving another sigh. “She bought several of those things for me. I’m not looking forward to breaking the news to her, I can tell you. Rachel was to have made the trip with me, see, but she came down with an attack of shingles. I offered to cancel the whole vacation, of course, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She’s that kind of woman, wanted me to have the experience for both of us.” He grimaced. “All the experience has amounted to so far is suffering a roughcrossing on the
Saxonia
, losing some of my baggage, staying in a rotten hotel in London, missing my wife like hell, and getting hassled by you. Some vacation!”
    “You said earlier that you acted on impulse.”
    “Yeah, I did. And it wasn’t only an impulse of revenge. Love came into it as well. Rachel begged me to bring her back a souvenir from the
Mauretania
.” Sadness came into his eyes. “I couldn’t help myself, Mr. Dillman. I promised her. My wife has a thing about silver, see.”
    “So does the Cunard Line. It likes to keep its supply intact.”
    “It’s not going to miss a saltcellar and a pepper pot.”
    “That doesn’t give you the right to take them.”
    “No, it doesn’t,” confessed the other, “and I’m ashamed of what I did. It was a dumb thing to do. I’ll happily pay for them.” He produced a wallet and flipped it open. “How much do you reckon they’re worth, Mr. Dillman?”
    “They’re not for sale, sir,” said Dillman pointedly. “Neither am I.”
    “That wasn’t a bribe I was offering you, I swear it. What kind of man do you take me for?” He put his wallet away. “Look, let’s be realistic here. I grabbed those things and I’ve told you why. Human nature being what it is, they won’t be the only souvenirs that get snatched aboard this ship. So what do you say, Mr. Dillman?” he asked, adopting a jocular tone. “It’s hardly the crime of the century, is it? What are you going to do with me—lock me up in the brig?” He offered his wrists. “Come on. Cuff me if you have to. I’ll go quietly.”
    Dillman needed a full minute to reach his decision. He shook his head. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Hirsch.”
    “So what happens? A diet of bread and water from now on?”
    “No, sir,” said Dillman pleasantly. “You can continue to use the facilities that other second-class passengers enjoy. Now that you’ve explained it to me, I can see how it must have happened and I’m certain it was an isolated incident.”
    “You can count on that.”
    “Then I suggest we forget the whole thing.”
    Hirsch brightened. “You won’t report this to the purser?”
    “Not this time.”
    “Thanks, Mr. Dillman. You’re a pal.”
    “No, sir,” said Dillman coolly. “This has nothing to do with friendship. I’m hired to keep a lookout for genuine thieves, and I don’t believe you fall into that category.”
    “Hell, no!” exclaimed the other. “If I were a pro, I wouldn’t be trying to sneak off with a saltcellar and a pepper pot. Why settle for a pocketful of silver when there’s almost three million in gold bullion aboard?
That’s
what I’d be after, I tell