I do not imagine; detectives aren''t allowed to imagine. They note probabilities. -- Ngaio Marsh, A Man Lay Dead


    Yo-han went back to the telegram office. Two more replies had arrived. He read them and found they confirmed all his suspicions. He went on-deck for a breath of fresh air and to go over the pieces of this puzzle. Again and again he mentally put them together in various combinations. Only one explanation fit. But there was still one very important detail missing: the motive.


    It was now half-nine. Time to meet Miss Patton and Király. Yo-han was almost certain he would discover the motive in a few minutes.


    When he arrived at Miss Patton''s door he found Király already there, scowling at the guard. The guard, for his part, was seated in a chair beside the door and munching stolidly away at a slice of toast. He looked up with a relieved expression when he saw Yo-han.


    "About time," Király grumbled. "This idiot insisted I had to wait out here."


    The guard shrugged. "Orders, sir. I''m not to let anyone speak to the prisoner — I mean, the young lady — without Mr. Seo being there too."


    He got up and knocked the door, then unlocked it. "She''s had her breakfast. Kroeger — him who had the watch last night — said she cried most of the night, poor girl. I hope," he looked anxiously at Yo-han, "you can prove she didn''t do it? Doesn''t seem natural, a young lady killing her own flesh and blood."


    "I assure you I can do more than that. In a few hours you will have the real murderer in this room."


    The guard and Király stared at Yo-han, the guard in admiration and Király in astonishment.


    "Cor!" the guard said in an awed tone. He finally remembered to open the door and let them in. Behind them they heard him mutter "Cor!" again.


    Miss Patton was standing when they entered, less as if she was waiting to receive them and more as if she''d paused in the middle of pacing back and forth. Her hair was disordered and her face was even paler than normal. Her first words showed she had overheard what Yo-han said.


    "Do you mean it?" she demanded as soon as the door was closed. "You know who the killer is?"


    "I do," Yo-han said. "All I need is your help to find the motive."


    The cell was really just an empty cabin hastily given an extra lock, so it had a bed and a chair just like the other cabins. Yo-han opened the door again and asked the guard to bring an extra chair for Király. When this was done the three of them sat down.


    Yo-han took one of the telegrams out of his pocket. "I have received some interesting news from Belfast. I think it will be a surprise to you, Miss Patton, but probably not to you, Mr. Király. Mrs. Patton-Langdale was robbing her business partner in Belfast."


    "I thought so," Király said, while Miss Patton exclaimed, "So that''s how she could afford that summer-house!"


    Yo-han took out another telegram. "Her business partner appears to be a... I don''t know if ''gangster'' is quite the right word, but certainly an unscrupulous businessman. He is suspected of hiring an assassin to kill a reporter who annoyed him. But what assassin would travel half-way across the world to kill someone? I contacted an acquaintance in Hong Kong who assures me no assassins there have been hired by foreigners lately, and he certainly can''t have hired an Australian one."


    "Do you want an answer or are you just talking to yourself?" Király wanted to know.


    Miss Patton''s mind moved along the same tracks as Yo-han''s. "The murderer must have been hired in Britain but was already planning to go to Australia. Or he was paid enough to make the trip worth his while."


    Yo-han nodded. "Who on the ship has plenty of money?"


    "The people in first class," Miss Patton suggested.


    Király scowled. "That bast— sorry. That loathsome creature Tremaine. Did you hear the racket he made this morning?"


    Yo-han wisely decided not to mention his part in that. "Playing loud music without regard for the neighbours does not necessarily mean a man is rich."


    "No, but the way he bought free drinks for everyone yesterday does. He said he''s some American film producer and one of his films is a success. I don''t believe it. A producer travelling in second class?" Király rolled his eyes at the very idea.


    "Anyway, the assassin must have got to the ship after us," Miss Patton said. "He would have killed Aunt in Hong Kong if we were still in the hotel when he got there. I''ve never seen Tremaine so I don''t know when he arrived. Mr. Colman and the doctor were at the hotel with us, and Mr. Colman was on the train with us before that."


    Király looked surprised. "Was he? I never noticed."


    Miss Patton nodded. "He got off somewhere in Russia. Yesterday he showed me the photos he took of the place where he stopped. Lots of mountains and forests and old churches. But about the murderer, I think he must have meant to kill Aunt in the hotel and had to change his plans at the last minute. It just doesn''t make sense to do something like saw through a wall unless you''re desperate and running out of time. So find out who bought their ticket right before sailing and I think we''ll have found the murderer."This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Yo-han got up. "I have one last thing to investigate. In about an hour I''ll speak to the captain and summon both of you — and a few other people — to a meeting. Then I''ll reveal who the murderer is."


    He stared very hard at a drawing taped to the wall. "Excuse me, Miss Patton, is that from Mr. Colman?"


    Miss Patton blushed slightly as she looked at it. "Yes. He said he couldn''t get any real flowers, so he drew some for me."


    "What sort of flowers are they?"


    Unexpectedly it was Király who answered. "Lilies of the valley, tulips, orchids, and I think those are meant to be hyacinths." Yo-han and Miss Patton both gave him surprised looks. It was his turn to blush. "Vi likes flowers."


    Miss Patton''s air of gloom briefly dispelled. She nodded with a wry smile. "I know. When we shared a room she filled it with flowers every spring. It was enough to give me an allergy."


    <hr>


    Yo-han walked slowly back to his cabin. He now had all of the pieces, including ones he hadn''t expected. None of them were conclusive in themselves. So much evidence, but no proof.


    He sent a message to the captain. Miss Patton, Mr. Király, Mr. Colman, Dr. Latimer, Mr. Tremaine, and Yo-han himself would all gather in the captain''s own sitting room, accompanied by several armed guards just in case the murderer tried anything when they were revealed. The meeting was set for twelve o''clock. It was now half-past ten.


    Yo-han rummaged through his suitcase for a notebook. He pulled his chair over to the bedside table and used it as a desk. Methodically he wrote down every piece of evidence. They were all so little, but they added up to so much.


    When he finished he asked himself, Can I be wrong?


    He tried fitting the facts to the other suspects. Something was always out of place.


    <hr>


    The cleaner watched in astonishment as an officer knocked the cabin door, then opened it with his master key.


    "Excuse me, sir, is something wrong?"


    "Captain''s orders," the officer said shortly.


    He disappeared into the cabin. A minute later he emerged carrying a large square box. The cleaner couldn''t help suspecting robbery. He watched the officer relock the door and head down the corridor. At the end he met up with the detective. They had a short whispered conference. The officer handed the box over to the detective and left. The detective left in the other direction.


    After a minute''s speculation, the cleaner gave up and went back to dusting. It couldn''t possibly be something to do with the murder. He''d never believe it, not from the occupant of that cabin.


    <hr>


    Twelve o''clock found five passengers, four officers, and the captain himself in the captain''s sitting room. A curious mixture of emotions were on their faces. Mr. Tremaine looked nervous. Dr. Latimer looked bored. Máté was waiting patiently, but without any obvious emotion. The captain was busy trying to light his pipe. Phil was pale but otherwise composed, and talking quite calmly to Leopold, who was doing his best to be cheerful.


    Yo-han arrived as the clock on the mantlepiece was still chiming the hour.


    "I won''t keep you long," he said without preamble. He moved the vacant armchair back so he could see everyone, and waved Mr. Tremaine over from the window to sit on the settee so he could see his face. "I''ve asked you all here to reveal who killed Mrs. Patton-Langdale. But first I must go back two months and recount one of my previous cases. The reason, I hope, will soon be clear.


    "There was a, let''s call him a political leader, in Georgia — not the American Georgia, the European one. He used a dozen aliases, but his real name was Jughashvili. He started out as a trainee priest[1], then changed his mind, became a communist, and lived like a king. Unfortunately that king was George the Evil[2]. In his pamphlets he said private property shouldn''t exist and everyone should have the same amount of money, and he practiced what he preached by forcing people off their property and taking it for himself. It''s not really surprising someone decided the world was better off without him.


    "They hired an assassin. This much I was able to find out: the assassin crossed the Black Sea from somewhere in eastern Europe, but he was not from eastern Europe. I traced him as far as Vienna before the trail went cold, and I''m almost sure he had come from somewhere even further west.


    "The assassin killed Jughashvili by shooting him in the head, through a window, from the building next door. Strangely no one saw the assassin enter or leave the building. I was able to trace him as far as central Russia, but there he disappeared again.


    "As you might expect, the assassin took the job for a large sum. I don''t know how large because I suspect a deposit was paid before the murder, and there was some confusion about who actually hired the assassin. He may very well have been hired by two separate groups, each unaware of the other. But whatever the truth, he left Georgia a very rich man. Hardly the sort of man who would need to kill someone else for money two months later. Especially when the victim was someone so much less important. An embezzler is a step down from a bank robber, serial torturer and gangster.


    "And yet, I believe that is exactly what happened."


    Yo-han paused to see what reaction this elicited. Until now most of the audience had been listening with politely-concealed boredom. At his last words they mainly looked astonished. Király looked disbelieving, and Miss Patton looked stunned. Yo-han looked at them all in turn to avoid appearing to single anyone out. All the same, he took careful note of one person''s expression. In spite of himself he had to admit he was impressed at their mask of surprise.


    "Are you telling me that a professional killer was hired to murder Mrs. Langdale?" the doctor asked.


    Yo-han nodded. "I know, it sounds improbable. But there are certain important facts that prove it. First, the similarity in the murder weapon and the way the murder was committed."


    Tremaine ventured to say, "That ain''t proof, though."


    "Not on its own. Second, the assassin''s apparent invisibility. Third, the music."


    "Hey!" Tremaine yelped. "Are you tryin'' to pin this on me?"


    Yo-han took a deep breath and forced himself to remain polite. "Not at all, I assure you. I simply mean the assassin was familiar with the piece of music and knew when it would be loud enough to cover a shot.


    "Fourth, where did the money go? Obviously the assassin has expensive tastes, or is spectacularly careless. I doubt he gave it all to charity. Could he, perhaps, have lost most of it in gambling?"


    Under cover of surveying all of the suspects, Yo-han kept a close eye on one of them in particular. Now for the first time he saw a flicker of alarm beneath the mask.


    "Fifth, the hole in the wall.


    "Sixth, he cannot have regular employment or he would never be able to travel the world like this. Yet he can''t be completely reliant on the money he earns from killing, or the irregularity in his finances would have been discovered before now.


    "In short, we have a murderer with a fondness for gambling, a knowledge of disguise, music, and carpentry, and no steady job. That description would fit an actor very well. Don''t you agree, Mr. Colman?"