Decline in Prophets Read Online Free PDF Page B

did nothing to shatter the illusion. Edna was busy bewitching Father Bryan. Rowland found himself talking with Captain Madding. Initially, neither
mentioned Orville Urquhart, though at times it almost seemed he was sitting between them.
    Unexpectedly, considering the circumstances, both found the other good company. Rowland suspected that Godfrey Madding was interrogating him, but he did not particularly object. He had nothing
to hide, and he was curious as to how his walking stick finished up in Urquhart’s neck.
    “So, you are not a Theosophist?” Madding asked.
    “No.”
    “But you don’t object to them?”
    “We Protestants don’t get quite so worked up as the good bishop.”
    Madding stroked his short naval beard. “Yes, His Grace is rather direct.”
    “Eloquent, though,” Rowland said on reflection.
    “You knew Urquhart?” Madding asked, lowering his voice.
    “Not well. He had been pursuing Miss Higgins since we came on board.”
    “And did that offend you?”
    Rowland glanced up at Edna who was laughing—an unrestrained bubbling giggle, completely inelegant, entirely uninhibited. “Not at all,” he said. “You’d have to be
dead not to pursue Miss Higgins.” He stopped, realising what he’d just said. He smiled ruefully. “That was probably unfortunately put.”
    Madding nodded. “Quite.”
    “What I meant to say,” Rowland explained, “is that Miss Higgins has many admirers. My issue with Mr. Urquhart is that he chose to press his admiration without consent. If she
welcomed his attentions, he and I would have had no quarrel.”
    “You broke his nose, Mr. Sinclair.”
    “And settled the matter.”
    Madding sighed. “I am inclined to take you at your word, sir, but no other candidate presents and this is my ship.”
    Rowland nodded. He could see Madding’s dilemma. “I shall speak to Mrs. Besant, if you like,” he offered. “She may know more of Urquhart’s
background…”
    “I would rather you didn’t tell her that Urquhart was murdered,” Madding said, frowning. “The last thing we need is for the passengers to panic.”
    Rowland smiled. “Mrs. Besant is clairvoyant,” he said. “Urquhart’s probably having dinner with her now.”
    “You believe that infernal nonsense?”
    “I believe Mrs. Besant is rather astute and extremely perceptive. I doubt, very much, that she’ll believe Urquhart slipped and hit his head.”
    Madding thought for a moment. “Very well,” he said finally. “It may help to know more about Urquhart. I’ve radioed New York and London—there are all manner of
jurisdictional problems on top of everything else.”
    “Do you know where he went after he left the infirmary?” Rowland asked.
    The captain shook his head. “According to Yates, he was feeling rather sorry for himself.”
    “I’ve been thinking about my stick—where I left it,” Rowland said thoughtfully. “I had it as I went out onto the promenade… Clyde—Mr. Watson
Jones— mentioned it at one point. I’d say that may have been where I left it.”
    “I know,” replied Madding.
    Rowland was surprised.
    “My staff captain remembers that you didn’t have it when you left the promenade. He recalls you using the wall to steady yourself.”
    “Oh.” Rowland hadn’t realised he had done so. “So I’m no longer a suspect?”
    Madding leaned back. “Well, you may have returned to find your stick, but it does indicate that other men also had the opportunity to get hold of it.” Stern grey eyes met dark blue.
“As I said, I’m inclined to believe you had nothing to do with it, but, you understand, I have to be cautious. Either way, there is a murderer somewhere on board the Aquitania .”
    Hubert Van Hook appeared at the table as the final course was concluded. He spoke to Milton and Clyde of the American jazz band that would be entertaining in the ballroom that night and
suggested that Prudence and Felicity Hickman join them all after dinner.
    “Rowly,” he added,