Trouble at High Tide by Donald Bain, Jessica Fletcher

William Shakespeare’s play
The Tempest
is reputed to have been inspired by accounts of the shipwreck and the settlers’ ordeal before they reached Virginia.
    Beyond the
Deliverance
and King’s Square was the ferry terminal that plied the waters between St. George and Hamilton. I would have enjoyed a ride on the ferry but Hamilton wasn’t my destination, at least not that day. I needed a taxi or some other form of ground transportation to return me to Tucker’s Town and my beachfront cottage. I saw where taxis were lined up and headed in that direction. It had been an interesting, yet relaxing day, a nice break from the turmoilin the Betterton household, although Alicia’s murder had never been far from my mind.
    The ferry was preparing to leave as I crossed the large car parking area toward the taxi line. Passengers had already boarded and crew members were starting to release the heavy ropes that tethered the boat to the dock. People leaned on the ship’s railings on the open top deck and waved goodbye to friends and family below.
    The ferry captain gave a loud blast on the ship’s horn, alerting latecomers of its imminent departure. I covered my ears and laughed as the last two stragglers ran up the ramp to the ship. One of the latecomers wheeled his scooter onto the ferry. But it was the second one who gave me a start, the one person I had vowed to confront as soon as I had the chance. It was the redheaded man, hauling his heavy suitcase and still in his strange old-fashioned attire.
    I hurried forward, not stopping to think how I would get on the ferry without a ticket and where it would leave me if I were successful in boarding. But I was too late. The lines were released, the ramp pulled back, and the ferry backed out of the dock and began its trip along Bermuda’s north shore toward Hamilton, the capital.

Chapter Nine
    A dam answered my knock at the Betterton house when I returned from St. George’s. “Two people were here from Scotland Yard today, and they asked about you,” he said.
    “Did they leave their names and how I can reach them?”
    “Yes. The judge has their cards in the library. He wants to see you.” He hesitated. “Mrs. Fletcher, I want to apologize for my behavior this morning. I know I upset you. I didn’t mean to do that.”
    “Why don’t we forget about this morning,” I said. “No harm done.”
    “Thanks.” He looked relieved. “I was out of line.”
    “Tell me about the people from Scotland Yard. You say that there were two?”
    “Yes. A woman inspector, a real doll. I never met a cop that good-looking before. I’d sure remember if I did. And a guy. I didn’t get their names. The judge spoke with them.”
    “Did they question you?”
    “Not today. The police asked me a lot of questions the night Alicia was killed, but I had nothing to offer,” he said, as he led me toward the library. “I’m not important enough to be grilled again.”
    “You sound disappointed. Do you want to speak with them again?”
    “No way! I’m just the PA. I’m not a member of the family. Anyway, how would I know anything about this Jack the Ripper guy?”
    I stopped in front of the closed door to the library and turned to him. “But you certainly knew Alicia,” I said.
    “Yeah, but I didn’t know her well.”
    “You knew her well enough to dislike her.”
    Adam’s head snapped up. “Why do you say that?”
    “Just a feeling,” I said. “You didn’t acknowledge her when we came in the other day. In fact, it appeared to me that you were deliberately ignoring her.”
    “Not any more than she ignored me all the time,” he said, sounding annoyed.
    “Why would she do that?”
    “I was just the hired help to her—that’s why. She considered me a servant. She never had a good word to say to me. Did I say
good
word? She never had a word of any kind to say to me. She was nicer to Norlene than she was to me.”
    “Norlene is also ‘hired help,’ as you put it, so I doubt that