Two people rarely see the same thing. — Agatha Christie, The Murder on the Links


    "It''s dreadful!" Mr. Colman cried. He wasn''t quite wringing his hands and tearing his hair, but he wasn''t far off. "How can they have arrested her? Anyone can see she can''t possibly have done it!"


    Yo-han studied Mr. Colman carefully. Both times he''d seen him before he had gotten the impression of falseness, an impression that had been strengthened when he learnt the man was an actor. But if he was acting now he was giving the performance of a lifetime. He looked like he was close to tears, and Yo-han knew very few men would cry in public unless they were sincere.


    "I see you''ve heard about the murder," he said.


    "Everyone''s talking about it. And they say Miss Patton''s been arrested! She can''t have done it! Why, you saw her on deck yourself, and I was with her until those stupid police came for her!"


    Yo-han didn''t bother to correct his confusion about who had come for Miss Patton. "The murder had already been committed by the time I saw Miss Patton."


    "But she can''t have done it!" Colman repeated as if this was a convincing argument in itself.


    Yo-han felt as if he was talking to a brick wall. "I know she didn''t." That finally startled Colman out of his ''woe-is-me'' attitude. "I am currently trying to prove she didn''t. And if you would stop behaving like someone murdered your entire family I would be able to do it more quickly."


    Colman had undergone a complete transformation while Yo-han was speaking and he now looked downright cheerful. "Are you going to catch the real murderer? Who is he?"


    Oh no. He was one of those obnoxious people who thought solving a murder was as easy as baking a cake.


    "I don''t know yet," Yo-han said shortly.


    He brushed past Colman. Colman, damn him, immediately began to follow like an overly-friendly puppy.


    "Can I help?" he asked. Yo-han remembered the last time an amateur had tried to help him and felt utter despair. "I''ve read murder mysteries." No wonder he and Miss Patton got on so well. They had the same taste in literature. Now if only Colman would go talk to her about books and leave Yo-han alone. "Are you going to question everyone on the ship?"


    "That would take the better part of a year," Yo-han said dryly. "For now I''m going to question the people closest to the victim, and they''re more likely to talk to me without you hanging around."


    Finally Colman took the hint. Yo-han had begun to fear he wouldn''t be able to beat him off with a stick.


    "Can I see Miss Patton?" he asked.


    Yo-han considered the pros and cons of this. "I suppose there''s no reason why not."


    Colman sped off towards the lift. Yo-han heaved a sigh of relief and continued towards Király''s cabin.


    <hr>


    Yo-han wasn''t really surprised to find the cabin was locked. If Király was inside he wasn''t answering the door. This gave Yo-han a chance to measure the distance between his cabin and Miss Patton''s. He ran from one to the other and found he could do it in two seconds. However, there was no carpet on the corridor and his shoes made a racket.


    If Király was the murderer, he could only have done it when the neighbouring cabins were unoccupied.


    The doctor estimated the time of death was around four o''clock. No earlier than half three, no later than half four. That coincided with the time most of the passengers were meeting their friends or going for a walk on-deck. The second-class cabins got rather stuffy in the afternoon. It also coincided with the time chosen for the maids to clean the cabins.


    Hmm. The victim had certainly not been polite to the staff.


    Yo-han added the cleaners to his list of possible suspects. So far it was very short. Király was at the top of the list, because who was more likely than a disgruntled employee to finally snap? Dr. Latimer was on it too, because he had been forced to change rooms because of the victim. He wasn''t a likely suspect. From their interaction earlier Yo-han hadn''t got the impression he could be a murderer, especially not for such a petty reason. But he had a motive, so for now he was on the list.


    The stewards, the cleaners, and the waiters were also on the list. So far Yo-han considered them unlikely murderers too. Yes, the victim had been rude and demanding, but so were countless other passengers. If the staff had restrained themselves from murder on every voyage so far, they probably wouldn''t have made an exception now.


    So who? Who had access to a gun, skill in firing it, and ingenuity to saw through a wall?


    The crime scene had been set up to throw suspicion on Miss Patton. Was he looking at this from the wrong angle? Was the murderer someone with a grudge against Miss Patton, and her aunt was killed solely to frame her?


    Footsteps sounded on the staircase leading down to the corridor. Yo-han waited to see who was coming. He was pleased to discover Király had spared him the trouble of searching the ship for him.


    Király didn''t spot him until he was almost at the bottom of the stairs. Yo-han had plenty of time to watch him carefully for any signs of a guilty conscience.


    The main impression Király left on him was of someone who viewed life as a vale of tears. His clothes were black and grey, which combined with his pale skin made him look almost as if he''d stepped out of a photograph. A general air of grim resignation hung about him, as if he had expected the worst but was still disappointed.


    When he finally saw Yo-han he looked at him with no sign of recognition.


    "Who are you?" he demanded in a tone so unfriendly it was just this side of openly hostile. "What are you doing outside my cabin?"


    "I am the detective in charge of the investigation," Yo-han said. "I''m afraid I must ask you a few questions, Mr. Király."


    Király sighed. "You might as well come in, then."


    <hr>


    Cabin 178 was almost depressingly devoid of anything to show its occupant''s personality. Mrs. Patton-Langdale had a framed photograph and her own alarm clock. Miss Patton had her murder mysteries. Yo-han himself had his calligraphy set and photo album. But Máté Király had his suitcase and nothing else. No photographs, no letters, no books, no trinkets of sentimental value, not even any sign of a hobby. Yo-han found himself wondering how the man passed the time.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Király gestured Yo-han to the only chair in the room. He sat on the bed himself and took a cigarette case out of his pocket, then changed his mind and put it away. Whether that was because he thought it would be rude to smoke in such a confined space, or simply didn''t want to give away the slightest detail about himself, was up for debate.


    "What do you want to know?" Király asked in a marginally less chilly tone. Yo-han got the impression he was trying to be friendly but was badly out of practice.


    "I want to find out as much as I can about your employer and her niece," Yo-han said.


    "Here''s something for a start: Miss Ophelia didn''t do it."


    Yo-han had never investigated a case where everyone was so convinced the main suspect was innocent. It was almost enough to make him suspect Miss Patton in spite of himself.


    All he said on that subject for the moment was, "I am inclined to agree with you. But more about that later. Would you mind telling me how you came to work for Mrs. Patton-Langdale?"


    "She fought with her latest secretary and fired him. So she advertised for a new one, I applied, and she hired me because I can speak German."


    Yo-han raised an eyebrow. "Király is not a German name," he said, phrasing it as a question.


    "No. I''m Hungarian."


    "Highly unusual for a Hungarian to go all the way to Belfast just to become a secretary when Budapest or even Vienna is so much closer," Yo-han observed.


    "Budapest and Vienna are also closer to my father," Király said with a sour twist to his mouth. "He can''t speak English, so I went to London."


    Yo-han was already sure what the answer would be, but he asked anyway. "Did you like working for the victim?"


    Király burst out laughing.


    "No," he said when he was able to speak again. "There were times when I could gladly have killed her myself." He stopped, realising how tactless and potentially incriminating it was to say that about a murder victim. "I should clarify now that I did not kill her. The best proof I can offer is that I stayed in her employment for a full year when none of her other secretaries could bear it for six months. If I didn''t kill her in her own house before now, when I could have staged it to look like a robbery gone wrong, is it likely I went to the trouble of travelling around the world just to kill her?"


    Yo-han had once caught a murderer who did just that. He politely didn''t mention it. "You admit you disliked her yet you worked for her for a year. Why?"


    Király''s eyes darted to the side briefly. Only for a second, but enough to show he was uncomfortable. Yo-han followed his line of sight and realised he''d glanced at the bedside table, almost as if he''d expected to see something there.


    "She paid me well," Király said.


    "Did you expect a legacy?"


    He rolled his eyes. "She made sure everyone in the house knew exactly what was in her will. I get nothing."


    Yo-han leant forward. "Who does benefit?"


    "Her son, first," Király said, to Yo-han''s surprise. Until now he hadn''t realised the victim had a son. "She left the house, the business, and most of the money to him on condition he gave up his job, moved to Enniskillen, took over the business, and married Miss Patton. If he wouldn''t do all of that, he was disinherited. Then the business and half the money would go to Miss Patton, the other half would go to," he stumbled over his words, "to Miss Octavia, and they would share the house."


    A theory began to form in Yo-han''s brain. He took note again of how empty the cabin was. He looked at Király''s suitcase propped against the side of the wardrobe. Rather a large suitcase. Too large for the number of clothes carried in it. He also took note of a fleeting movement of Király''s; it looked as if he''d tried to adjust a ring that wasn''t there.


    "What if either of the nieces married?" he asked.


    Király''s answer came more slowly this time. "If Miss Patton married she would keep the business and the money, and her husband wouldn''t be able to touch it. Mrs. Patton said this was to stop fortune-hunters marrying her for her money. She also insisted that Miss Patton''s future husband must change his surname to hers. If she doesn''t marry, or marries but has no children, everything goes to Mrs. Patton''s son or his oldest child."


    "And Miss Octavia?"


    "If she married without her aunt''s permission she would be completely disinherited."


    Yo-han''s theory was becoming a near-certainty. To prove it he produced the letter. "This was in your employer''s cabin. Did she often read your letters?"


    As an answer Király gave Yo-han a lesson in the sort of Hungarian not generally used in polite society.


    "I might have known," Király said when he calmed down enough to revert to English. "She always read her maid''s letters. She''d have read Miss Patton''s too, if Miss Patton ever got any."


    "Speaking of Miss Patton, she assured me this letter has nothing to do with the case. But it is a mystery, and I dislike more than one mystery at a time. Makes a case so much more complicated than it needs to be. Perhaps you can explain." Yo-han''s tone made it clear this wasn''t a suggestion.


    Király read the letter in silence. Yo-han took advantage of the pause to reach over and rap his knuckles against the suitcase.


    "What are you doing?" Király asked, sounding more resigned than annoyed.


    "Confirming a theory. I am sure that if I opened this suitcase and examined it closely, I would find a false wall in it." Yo-han straightened up and fixed Király with the stare that never failed to silence suspects. "I believe I understand the situation, but you can correct me if I''m wrong. In the first place, you and Miss Octavia are married."


    Király nodded slowly.


    "I have two theories on why you kept it secret, one less honourable than the other. In the first theory, Mrs. Patton-Langdale was unbearable as an employer and would have been even worse as an in-law, so you kept her in the dark to keep peace in the family. In the second, you admitted Mrs. Patton-Langdale—" Yo-han internally cursed the victim for not being content to pick one surname and stick with it, "—would disinherit Miss Octavia — I beg her pardon; Mrs. Király — if she married without permission. I notice you didn''t say what would happen if she married with permission."


    "Mrs. Patton had no plans to ever grant that permission unless Vi found a duke or a millionaire," Király snapped. "And I resent your insinuations! We were going to tell her. We just planned to break it to her gently. Vi tried just before we left and it ended in a terrible fight. She mentions that in the letter. Though I don''t know what J means or why I''m supposed to remember it." He frowned at the letter as if hoping to find a post-script he''d missed the first time.


    "But even if you broke the news gently you would still have married without permission," Yo-han pointed out.


    Király made an exasperated gesture. "Vi never expected to get anything from her aunt at all. Either Mr. Langdale or Miss Patton or both of them will get everything. Mrs. Patton threatened constantly to make a new will disinheriting Vi completely, married or unmarried. She might have actually done it; she visited her lawyer the week before we left."


    "Then where exactly did you expect to get money? Surely you didn''t think Mrs. Patton would keep you in her employment when she found out about the marriage."


    "Vi has a job in the opera house. She''ll have a steady income for as long as they need costumes made and altered. And I can easily find another job." Király frowned. "But how did you find out?"


    Yo-han gestured to the room at large. "In the first place I had begun to suspect a relationship of some sort from the letter. In the second I saw how empty this place is. The logical deduction was that you had hidden your personal belongings somewhere you thought they would be safe from your employer''s curiosity. The suitcase fit with that." His tone became abruptly more serious. "I must trouble you to open it, since it would also provide a convenient hiding place for a gun."


    Király looked like he was about to object, but thought better of it. He opened the suitcase, moved his shirts aside, and removed the false wall. Inside, as Yo-han expected, were letters and photographs. Also there, as he hadn''t expected, were a painting kit and a few watercolour landscapes.


    The space wasn''t as large as he had expected. Most of it was a layer of padding to prevent the photographs being damaged. There was no sign of a gun and no room for one to have been hidden there.


    "Thank you," Yo-han said. "Out of curiosity, who do you think killed Mrs. Patton-Langdale?"


    To his surprise Király answered without hesitation. "The doctor."


    Yo-han wondered if he''d heard right. "The... who? Do you mean Dr. Latimer?"


    "Of course," Király said as if it was obvious. "He''s close enough to her cabin."


    "Do you think he was so upset over changing cabins that he murdered her?" Yo-han asked.


    Király rolled his eyes. "No. It goes back before that, to the hotel in Hong Kong. The doctor was staying there too. Mrs. Patton found out something about him and I think she tried to blackmail him."


    This was new information. Yo-han decided to question the doctor next. "Do you know who is in each cabin on this corridor?"


    "No one''s in the ones opposite Mrs. Patton''s and Miss Patton''s. An old lady is in the one between mine and Miss Patton''s. The doctor is opposite her, and that actor is opposite me. That one—" He pointed to the wall to indicate the cabin to the right of his, "—is empty. So''s the one beside the actor. One of the others is empty, and the last one has a man who plays loud music."