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realised that seeing the world while dodging bombs and bullets wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Next he dabbled in computers. For the last couple of years, his TV company has been everything to him. I often wish he was more like his father,” she said, twisting the gold band round her finger. “Howard started from nothing and Tom forgets that. And when I say nothing, I mean nothing. Fifty years ago, while I was busy making wedding plans, Howard bought a cheap terraced house at auction. He spent every spare minute renovating that place, such hard work, until he sold it at a good profit. We married, spent most of that profit on a house for ourselves, and then he bought another property and another. He worked long, hard hours, seven days a week.”
    Howard—Howard Jackson? Surely not the Howard Jackson?
    “Howard died five years ago,” she explained, “and the company was sold. It still uses the same name—perhaps you’ve heard of it?”
    “Howard Jackson Properties?” One of the biggest construction companies in the UK?
    “That’s it.”
    There was no question that the pearls and diamond were real. Ruby Jackson must be worth a fortune.
    “Anyway—” She brightened. “I’ve told Tom not to discuss business and I’m not even going to think about it. Instead I shall enjoy every minute of this cruise. And if I’ve made my son sound a real horror, I should add that I love him dearly. I love his sister too and I couldn’t live with her either. Laura’s totally different to Tom. She lives a quiet life in the Cotswolds, where she works as a teacher. People would describe her as the perfect daughter, but, boy, can she fuss. She’s very bossy too. I love my children, Dylan, but they both drive me to distraction. Just as they despair of me.”
    “Isn’t that what families are for?”
    Ruby laughed, an attractive sound that had several passengers glancing their way. “I suppose they are.” She finished her coffee and picked up her bag. “I’m going for a nightcap. Care to join me, Dylan?”
    “I’d be honoured.”
    They walked along the corridor to the now crowded bar. People were having to talk loudly to make themselves heard over the old Beatles tunes that were being played. It wasn’t Dylan’s kind of bar but it had one thing in its favour. It served drinks.
    “Wasn’t the death of that poor woman awful?” Ruby said. “I saw her last night, you know. Of course, I didn’t know who she was at the time, but she certainly seemed healthy enough then. She was having a right old ding-dong with the chef in the kitchen.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes, and he’s an enormous chap, tall and broad. You’ll have seen him, Dylan. Shaved head with a tiny gold cross hanging from one ear. Well, she was tearing him off a strip. Mind you, he gave as good as he got. I thought they were about to come to blows.” She frowned. “I hope that wasn’t responsible for her death.”
    “What were they arguing about?”
    Ruby perched on a tall stool at the bar. “I’ve no idea. By the time I saw them, she was ranting in Norwegian and he was yelling at her to get the hell out of his kitchen. When she stormed out, he followed her for a few yards brandishing a huge meat cleaver. It was amusing at the time with him being so huge and threatening. It’s not funny now, of course.”
    Trying to find Hanna Larsen’s killer—if indeed there was a killer—would be impossible. The woman had made enemies wherever she went.
    “I hope I don’t pop my clogs on this ship,” Ruby said. “What a horrible way to go.”
    “Someone else I was talking to thought it was a great way to go. He thought she would have died happy being on holiday.”
    “That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose. I still hope my own demise isn’t imminent. I have too much to sort out before I shuffle off this mortal coil. Mind you, I’ve been saying that for years and I’m no further forward. I wonder if anyone has ever been ready for