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“Go solve this horrid mystery for all of our sakes. I swear I’ll be here when you return.”
She crossed her heart and I hoped she’d actually keep her word.
I couldn’t help but think the light above our makeshift postmortem table sounded like a dying bee. The slight buzz and flicker did nothing to improve my mood as Uncle folded the shroud down, revealing the victim.
I studied her wheat-blond hair, the peaceful look upon her face. It was hard to imagine she’d died in such a violent manner—that was, until my attention dropped lower. There were a total of fourteen holes in her body, two in each arm, two in each leg, and ten throughout her torso. Entry and exit wounds from the swords. I wanted to close my eyes, but hiding wouldn’t change anything. She’d still be deceased and I’d still need to find any clue that might lead to why. I shuddered a bit, recalling how her death had been staged after a tarot card.
“Begin your examination now, Audrey Rose.” Uncle had already finished washing his hands and handed Thomas the journal and a pen. “Start with wounds this time, please.”
“Yes, sir.” I cleared my throat, then walked around the body, observing. “Skin around both ankles has a slight rash, though there’s no indication of rope burn. If it had been present, that would indicate she’d been alive and struggling against her bonds. Since it is not, it is likely she was not struggling and therefore already deceased.”
“Good. What else?”
I stared at her face again, biting my lip. There was something too serene about her. She had kohl around her eyes, but there weren’t any smudges. Odd for someone who’d been murdered in a heinous way to not have shed any tears. I pointed to the clue.
“Victim’s kohl is perfectly intact,” I said. “Either the perpetrator applied it postmortem, which I do not believe, or we might find an elixir in her system. I doubt this woman was conscious when she was attacked.”
“Brilliant.” Thomas lifted his attention from his note-taking, and looked at me. “Her nails are also unbroken. There are no signs of any defensive wounds.”
“Which also explains why she hadn’t screamed,” I
said, building off our examination. “She was already either deceased or incapacitated when she’d been hung upside down.”
Uncle hovered above one of the wounds. “I believe the facts are lining up with that theory. Look at the cuts. What story do they tell?”
I joined my uncle, leaning in to get a better look. At first I was unsure… they were horrendous cuts, then it hit me. There was blood, but no bruising. “The swords were likely inserted after death.”
“Very good. Cause of death?”
I stopped seeing a deceased young woman. Before me lay a puzzle waiting to be put together. I pulled her eyelids back. “There’s no petechial hemorrhaging. No bruises on the neck.” I moved around the table. “She certainly wasn’t strangled. Until we open her up, I’m afraid we can’t be sure of cause of death. Though, given the lack of other signs, we might be looking at a poisoning.”
Thomas stood abruptly, dropping his notebook as he lifted the victim’s arm. He leaned close, then set it back down, face grim. “It appears as though she’s been administered a shot. Or has had some bloodletting done. Look there. A small syringe might have made that mark.”
My heart rate jumped. “We know of at least one doctor aboard this ship.”
“One who had a connection to our first victim,” Thomas added. “And he was none too keen on having us anywhere near his next patient.”
“Dr. Arden admitted to giving Chief Magistrate Prescott an elixir.” I had a growing feeling of dread. “And both Prescotts were absent from the dining saloon.” I’d imagined they’d chosen to remain in their rooms, mourning their daughter. But what if they were unable to leave? “I know he’d said he wouldn’t be attending, but did either of you notice Dr. Arden during the show tonight?”
Uncle shook his head. “I didn’t see him. And Chief Magistrate Prescott didn’t answer the door when I called on him again before supper. In fact, the room sounded empty. No one so much as shifted. Odd if they were both in the room as they’d claimed they’d be.”
“Well, then”—Thomas grabbed our cloaks—“let’s check on them at once. We’ll fetch the captain on the way.”
“No need.” Captain Norwood leaned against the doorframe, his face more tired looking than it had been the last time I’d seen him. “I’ve come to give you the news myself.”
I covered the body with the shroud, hoping to give her as much respect as I could. The captain wrenched his attention away from the corpse, appearing a bit green around the collar. “My crew went to each first-class cabin, hoping to find a witness. But—”
“We believe we’ve discovered who’s responsible, sir,” I said, not wanting to waste time. We needed to check on the Prescotts; hopefully we weren’t already too late. “You need to locate and apprehend Dr. Arden at once. He was last—”
“Pardon me, Miss Wadsworth,” he interrupted, “but I’m afraid you all may be wrong.” He glanced at the covered body again, swallowing hard. “You see… we spoke with everyone… and Miss Arden, the doctor’s daughter, is missing.” He removed a photograph from his coat pocket and held it out for us to see. I drew back, stomach sinking. “This is the young woman on your examination table, is it not?”
I stared mutely at the photograph, mind slowly catching up with the new information and what it meant to our case. If Dr. Arden’s daughter was our victim, and if there was no conflict between them, then that eliminated him from suspicion. We needed to begin again—and the task seemed daunting.
“But this isn’t all you found out, is it?” Uncle nodded to another sheet of paper the captain had poking out from his coat pocket.
“I wish it was.” Norwood sighed and withdrew the note. “Another family is demanding we investigate the disappearance of their daughter. I ask that you all come with me straightaway.”
My knees felt weak. Already… the potential for another body. Thomas caught my eye. He needn’t utter a word—two bodies and a possible third in only two days. What we had now was another career murderer. One who had only just begun his dark acts.
