Murder Most Posh: A Mrs. Xavier Stayton Mystery by Robert Colton Page B

spun around, hoping this to be the delivery of the telegraph.
       Opening the door as quickly as I could, I was disappointed to see a simple letter rather than a telegraph. It was addressed to Yara.
       After she read it, she shared the information. “Mr. Michael begs of me to speak with the captain and let Rory continue on to this farm after the ship reaches the dock. He promises me that his brother will be safe there, and well-tended to.”
       Lucy retorted, “That is if the countess’s murder doesn’t get pinned on him.”
       With confidence, I remarked, “Oh, no, it will not.”
       Lucy looked expectantly at Yara and said, “Well?”
       Living up to the character I had hoped, she responded, “He is not well, and he did not mean to scare me. I will speak to the captain.”
       Smiling, I said, “But not yet.”
     
     
       Yara rested in her room, and Lucy reread from her notebook while I paced the parlor’s floor. It was very near time for luncheon when the telegraph finally arrived.
       My eyes flew over the message, and Lucy demanded, “Well, what does it say?”
       “Mr. Jack persuaded the countess’s lawyer to answer my questions. The countess has a will on file with him, newly drawn up at that, and the countess’s sister, Alisa Sidorvo is the sole beneficiary.” I took a deep breath and concluded, “He also understands that she has a life insurance policy, a sizable one... he wagers that Alisa Sidorvo is also the beneficiary.”
       Shocked, Lucy asked, “Do you believe her sister arranged all of this?”
       I pressed my lips together for a moment and then responded, “I do believe that Alisa Sidorvo arranged the framework of this mystery.”
       After picking up the phone, I asked the operator, “Yes, please connect me to Cabin A-2.”
       The telephone only rang once. “Yes?”
       “Mr. Farquhar, it is Mrs. Xavier.”
       “I’m so glad you called. After we spoke, I went on looking through my wife’s belongings, and I found that her jewelry is missing—every piece.”
       I nodded my head. “Her passport too.”
        “Yes, but how did you know?” he replied, amazed by my knowledge.
       “Mr. Farquhar, when you and your wife traveled together, did you ever see the inside of her passport?”
       After a long silence, he replied with a grunt and explained, “My wife always seemed to wander away. I can’t remember a single time we made it on board a ship together. When customs came, she was nowhere to be found, and then somehow, she’d turn up angry that I kept her waiting.”
      This was just as I suspected. “Mr. Farquhar, how often has Ms. Wainwright secretly traveled with you while you and your wife took trips?”
       He was slow to respond. “Simone traveled ahead of us to Italy and met me late on a holiday in Spain.” He paused. “We were just in Paris two weeks ago; she followed then as well.” 
       Reaching for Lucy’s notebook and pen, I asked for the dates. After he gave them to me, I cleared my throat and very boldly said, “I think there is still one lie you’ve told, or at least, I do hope you lied.”
       “I have told you the whole truth, Mrs. Stayton.” So he thought he had, but perhaps he’d forgotten a detail that had stuck in my mind.
      “A man who appears quite guilty of killing his wife would be a fool to toss a master passkey off this ship, as he may find himself locked up. Mr. Farquhar, I’m sure if I had that key, I could solve this mystery.” I hung up the phone.
       Lucy followed me to the promenade, and she gave a little gasp of delight as we watched through the glass window of the door separating the two balconies. Mr. Farquhar appeared and then inserted the key into the lock.
       Once through, the man reluctantly handed me the item. “I’m counting on you, Mrs. Stayton.”
       I took the key and smiled. “I have some snooping to do, Mr. Farquhar.”
     
     
       Poor Yara was