Danger on the Atlantic

Book 3: Jane Wunderly Mystery

by Erica Ruth Neubauer

Genres: Historical Mysteries; Private Investigators

Synopsis

For young American widow Jane Wunderly, there are worse fates than adventuring aboard a transatlantic liner with the only man who could change her mind about romance. Unfortunately, her first-class itinerary has an unexpected—and deadly—addition waiting just below deck . . .
Atlantic Ocean, 1926: Voyaging from Southampton to New York, self-reliant Jane is determined to prove herself a worthy investigator on the stately ship—even awkwardly going undercover as the fashionable wife of her magnetic partner, Mr. Redvers. Few details are known about the rumored German spy the duo have been tasked with identifying among fellow passengers, but new troubles unfold once wealthy newlywed Vanessa FitzSimmons announces the sudden disappearance of her husband at sea . . .

Miles Van de Meter, the man Vanessa rushed to marry in Monte Carlo, has allegedly vanished into thin air along with his luggage. Redvers guesses the shifty heiress may be weaving tall tales for fun between flutes of champagne, yet Jane isn't convinced—not after the stunning murder of a trusted acquaintance sends them into uncharted waters. Facing two dangerous mysteries and a boat load of suspects, Jane must navigate a claustrophobic quest for answers before the culprits can slip from her grasp on land . . . or, worse, ensure she and Redvers never reach their destination.

Release date: March 29, 2022

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 304

Sample

The metallic groaning of the giant ocean liner pulling away from the dock at Southampton was nearly drowned out by the frenetic calls from both ship and shore. White handkerchiefs waved gaily from hands all around us—tiny flags of surrender, giving themselves over to the voyage—and long, multicolored streamers decorated the railings and the sky over our heads. I could see the stout figure of my aunt Millie on shore, standing next to her trim fiancé, Lord Hughes, and their daughter Lillian. Millie had offered only a perfunctory gesture before becoming impatient with the ritual, but Hughes and Lillian were still waving gaily as we pulled away.

Redvers and I found ourselves in an orderly crowd on the first-class deck, each of us offering a few waves to my cousin and her father before dropping our hands. I surveyed the wealthy travelers around us, doing my best to make my interest look casual.

“What does a spy look like, I wonder?” The question was muttered from the corner of my mouth.

Leaning against the teak railing, one leg hitched onto the lower rung, Redvers merely shot me an amused look. He looked handsome in his charcoal wool coat and tweed cap—a bit informal, but I noticed many of the male passengers wore similar attire. Rather than ogle the man’s broad shoulders, I hitched my coat collar a little higher against the chill off the water and looked over the railing at the crush of people on the second- and third-class decks below us. I had been informed that they were no longer called “steerage,” an improvement in terminology if not quarters. It was only due to the generosity of the British government that I was traveling in first class on this voyage, or I would have found myself in the human chaos below. And I was intent on fulfilling my obligations—which meant keeping my eye out for a German agent.

I turned back to the upper-crust travelers around me, looking over our fellow passengers, when I found my eye drawn to a tall woman swimming in a luxurious coat of silver fox. I cringed a bit—I always felt badly for the animal, despite the beauty of the coat. She was standing just a few people down the railing from us, so I could see that the woman’s features were a little too sharp to be traditionally beautiful, but her makeup had been artfully applied and her green eyes were luminous and striking against her dark red hair. She was clutching the arm of a bearded man who was nearly the same height as she was, and from the way they were clinging to each other and murmuring in one another’s ears, I guessed they were in the throes of a brand-new relationship. The man was nattily dressed, although his trousers were just a shade too short and his shoes were overdue for a shine. He turned his head slightly in my direction and I was able to take him in more fully—I didn’t typically care for a man with facial hair, but his beard was close cropped and worked well with his strong, dark features. When the open display of affection between the two became too intimate, I turned back to Redvers.

“Shall we head to our quarters, Mrs. Wunderly?” Redvers offered me his arm and I paused for only a moment before I took it. The ship had pulled far enough from the quay that people were slowly drifting away from the railings and off to their own devices, and it was time to face our living situation for the upcoming voyage. We made our way down the long promenade before pushing through a door and entering another world. Once inside the ship, it was easy to forget you were traveling on what amounted to a floating city—the interior resembled a grand manor house with gorgeous oak paneling lining the walls and plush carpet beneath our feet. We moved toward the grand first-class staircase at the front of the ship—one of two such staircases—and my eye was immediately drawn upward toward the glass dome arching overhead, allowing light to filter in and illuminate the area. The rich wood balustrades framing the space were accented with intricate bronze and iron scrollwork, and the heavy oak banister was smooth beneath my hand as we descended one level to the B-deck. Three elevators were available to take passengers to the various decks below, but I doubted I would be using them. I preferred to soak in the beautiful décor—like the elegant clock bordered by a handsomely carved panel on the opposite wall.

We didn’t have far to travel to our cabin, where Redvers produced a key and opened the door to our suite. Through the connecting door I could see that both of our trunks had been delivered and set up in the adjoining bedroom.

I paused inside the doorway, letting my senses soak up the richness of the room. A small desk occupied one corner beside what I could only assume was a false fireplace with an elaborate oval mirror hanging above the carved wooden mantel. I eyed the mirror with some reservation—I hoped it was firmly secured to the wall, since in the event of a squall it could do some serious damage to any occupants of the room. Two windows with gray silk curtains framed the fireplace, letting in more light than I would have imagined possible on board a ship. A modest table was positioned to one side with several seats pushed in, and the rest of the space was occupied by two comfortably upholstered chairs. The walls were paneled in oak with tastefully decorative molding framing out spaces on the walls. All in all, it was a small space, but every inch of it was used well, and far more spacious than I had anticipated.

My eyes flicked toward the bedroom, and the reality of our traveling arrangements began to set in now that we were alone in our quarters. Together. “Ehrm. Are you absolutely sure we need to travel as husband and wife?”

Redvers’ eyes lit with a teasing light. “Is the idea of being alone with me so repulsive?” He knew very well that it was not, but I was glad he had left the marriage issue alone—even pretending wedlock was a touchy subject for me, due to my disastrous marriage to the late Grant Stanley.

“Well, I’m not physically ill at the thought, but these are rather close quarters.”

A small smile played on his lips, but then he quashed it. “It’s rather late now to change our minds. And it really will be easier if we play the part of a married couple on board. There will be fewer questions about us spending so much time together that way.”

He was correct there, at least. We had discussed the situation at length when I agreed to help Redvers with this investigation. Ultimately, I had agreed to the plan since a married man traveling with his wife was much less conspicuous than a single man traveling alone. Or a single woman, for that matter. Of course, we had kept the entire matter from my aunt, who believed that we were occupying separate cabins for this trip. What Millie didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

Redvers cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind him. “And I’ll be sleeping out here in the sitting room, so you needn’t worry about that.”

“Oh,” was all I could muster. I eyed the two upholstered chairs and glanced back at Redvers. I wondered how he planned to make things work—the man was far too tall to do anything but sleep on the floor out here, and I was struck with a pang of guilt. He was attempting to protect me and prove himself as a gentleman, but it wasn’t necessarily Redvers I was worried about. The more time I spent alone with him, the more I found myself rethinking my hardline stance on never marrying again, despite my terrible past experience. Plus, the man kissed like heaven.

No, Redvers wasn’t the one I was worried about.

We were interrupted by a knock at the door, and Redvers went to meet with the steward who had come to introduce himself. While they spoke, I wandered about, inspecting the rest of the suite we had been assigned. The bedroom attached to our sitting room had a double bed along one wall with a brass sconce overhead for reading. A small table and chair occupied the corner near the window, while yet another door led to the attached private bathroom. The bedroom walls were lined in a rich damask silk with decorative wood insets breaking the patterns into panels. Glancing up, I noticed the intricately carved molding creating a circular pattern on the ceiling—it appeared that no detail was overlooked in creating an atmosphere of luxury.

I poked my head into the bathroom and found a partially enclosed spray shower above the bathtub occupying one wall. I walked forward and inspected the various knobs it took to operate the thing, and hoped it would prove easier than it appeared at first glance. A marble sink with a large mirror graced the opposite wall, and I ambled over and picked up the Vinolia Otto toilet soap that had been provided, taking a sniff of the light rose and lemon scent before replacing it in the soap dish.

“Jane?” Redvers’ low voice carried in from the sitting room to where I was standing. I passed through the bedroom once again and joined the two men. Redvers gestured to the steward in his sharp blue uniform, with its gold buttons marching smartly down the front of the military-style coat. “This is our steward, Francis Dobbins. He’ll be working with us.”

I shot a questioning look at Redvers and he nodded. I didn’t know how they managed it, but apparently Her Majesty had contacts working everywhere. For my own curiosity’s sake, I would inquire later as to whether the man was an existing employee on the ship and had simply been tapped to help, or whether he had been planted here by Redvers’ employers. Of course, regardless of how he had come to be on board, it was going to be helpful to have someone on the inside. I reached out and shook the man’s soft hand, worried for a moment that I might hurt him with my firm handshake. He was young, and had yet to lose the baby fat in his round face—as well as the rest of him.

Redvers invited the steward to have a seat while we discussed matters, but Dobbins refused the invitation, standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

“We suspect there is a German spy on board this ship. Our sources confirmed his presence, but not his identity. We’ve narrowed the field to three possible suspects,” Redvers said.

I was all attention. This was the first time I had been officially included on one of Redvers’ cases, and I wasn’t going to miss this opportunity to prove myself to his employers. Whoever they were. He’d never been terribly specific on that front.

Dobbins spoke up. “One of the men is a passenger. Heinz Naumann. He’s staying in cabin C48, and I’ve arranged for Mrs. Wunderly to have the deck chair next to his.”

I raised an eyebrow at Redvers. I was bemused that we appeared to be traveling under my last name instead of Redvers’—which was Dibble—although I knew that he used his surname as little as possible. “Redvers Dibble” didn’t exactly command respect, so I could understand his reluctance to use it, yet I suspected there were also more personal reasons at play. I hoped to someday learn what those were.

“It’s common for the first-class passengers to reserve their deck chairs. We’ve arranged for you to have the one next to Mr. Naumann so that you can chat him up.” Redvers turned back to the soft-spoken steward. “Excellent work, Dobbins.”

“Do you want to be seated at his dinner table?” Dobbins asked.

Redvers shook his head. “I think that would be overly conspicuous. This is an excellent start. With our first suspect, anyway. What about the other two?”

“They are both employed here on the ship. The band leader, Keith Brubacher, and the man who runs the photography office, Edwin Banks.”

“Have you learned anything about either of them?”

Dobbins shook his head. “I haven’t had the opportunity, sir. I just received word of the names. Although I do know they are both new on board for this voyage.”

Redvers nodded, and I wondered if this was the first time he had heard those names or whether he was simply checking Dobbins’s work.

“We’ll start looking into them immediately,” Redvers said.

Dobbins inclined his head. “I’ll leave you to dress for dinner then. It starts promptly at six, but you should hear the bugle call before then.”

Dobbins left the room, closing the door silently behind him, and I turned to Redvers. A little tingle of excitement flashed over my skin—I was excited to get underway with this investigation. It was a refreshing change to be consulted rather than left in the dark until the last minute. “So, we have three suspects.” All Redvers had told me before we got on board was that we were looking for someone passing information to the German government, but he hadn’t shared any particulars with me beyond that. I wasn’t even certain the person we were looking for was a German citizen, or just someone working for them. “Which person do we want to investigate first?”

Redvers looked amused at my eagerness. “I think our first step is simply for you to become friendly with Naumann, while I start looking into the other two men.”

I could feel my forehead puckering in annoyance, but I quickly smoothed it out. We had a little more than a week on board this ship before we reached New York, and I would be at my most charming.

Heinz Naumann didn’t stand a chance. For that matter, neither did the others, once I went to work on them.

When it came time to dress for dinner, I locked myself in the bedroom and changed into a forest-green silk evening gown, adding my favorite pair of silver kitten heels. An entire wardrobe of beautiful gowns and day dresses had been provided for me especially for this trip since I needed to look the part of a first-class passenger. Nothing I owned was quite so fine, and I briefly wondered who had picked up the bill for my trousseau. Shrugging, I pulled out a beaded black shawl and added it to my ensemble, along with an Egyptian scarab brooch. Even if we weren’t going above-deck, I suspected I would need the extra layer in some areas of the ship, and the brooch was a lovely reminder of where Redvers and I first met.

I paused for a moment inside the bedroom door and attempted to hear whether Redvers was still moving around changing into his evening wear, but the only sound I could make out was the gentle thrum of the ship’s engines below us. Redvers had dragged his trunk into the sitting room as soon as Dobbins left; it was fortunate that our steward was aware of our situation, because otherwise eyebrows would be raised at the unusual arrangement in our suite.

I knocked on the inside of the bedroom door. “Are you ready?”

Redvers’ low, rumbling voice answered me. “I’m ready.” I stepped out into the sitting room and my mouth went dry. The man was stunning in a simple black dinner jacket with matching tie and starched white shirt, the jacket accentuating his broad shoulders and dark hair. I almost missed the appreciation in his chocolate-brown gaze, but his eyes sparkled as he greeted me.

“You look lovely.”

“Thank you.”

We stood awkwardly for a moment, feeling the tension of being left to our own devices for once, with no meddling aunt or other family members to interrupt us.

At least I was feeling the tension. I couldn’t be certain why Redvers was behaving awkwardly.

After the silence had stretched on for a beat too long, Redvers cleared his throat, a light flush on his neck stark against the brightness of his white shirt. “Shall we?” I nodded and hid a smile as I came forward and took the arm he offered me.

Redvers locked our suite and we made our way to the dining room two levels below on the D-deck, falling into the steady stream of well-dressed passengers heading that way. Before we made it to the reception room, the raised voice of a woman drew my attention and I slowed to a stop. I cocked my head, then pulled Redvers by the arm in the direction of the corridor where the voice was coming from.

“I would think it’s easy enough for you to have your people search for him.” The woman’s voice was high and sharp, but it probably had more to do with the obvious tension in her words rather than her natural speaking voice.

“Madam, I’m sure your husband will turn up in an hour or so. There’s no need to fret.” The man’s tone was obviously meant to be soothing, but instead came across as nothing short of patronizing.

I popped my head around the corner and recognized the tall redhead from on deck during the ship’s departure. She was no longer wearing the fur coat, but it was unmistakably the same woman. She was speaking with a ship officer, obvious in his smart cap and impeccable uniform with its gold stripe running along the cuff of his coat. Another man in uniform stood with them, hat tucked under his arm, and as I watched the two men exchanged a loaded look.

The woman practically growled now. “I know you think he’s just disappeared with some sheba, but I assure you that isn’t the case. We’re newlyweds, and my husband isn’t a heel. He was supposed to meet me for a drink and he didn’t show.”

The officer looked uncomfortable. It was obvious where he believed this woman’s husband was, and her argument wasn’t swaying his opinion. “Perhaps you should check the common rooms again. Or have your steward look in the gentlemen’s lounge. It’s entirely possible he simply got caught up in a conversation.” He gave a forced chuckle. “And you know, more than one husband has been ‘lost’ to a card game there—perhaps he’s just forgotten the time.”

The woman huffed, spun on her heel without another word, and started in our direction. I quickly turned to Redvers, who was patiently waiting for me to finish eavesdropping, and took his arm again. “Shall we?” We started moving toward the dining room just as the redhead came around the corner and brushed past us, her heels clacking angrily down the hall. Within moments she was out of sight.

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.” Redvers’ eyes twinkled, and I gave him a soft jab in the ribs.

“I recognize her. From the deck this morning.”

“Do you?” Redvers shrugged. “I didn’t notice her, I’m afraid. I was busy watching the young man with his camera.”

I had missed that individual entirely. “I guess we’re even then.”

Down on the D-deck, the Olympic had a reception area where guests could meet and have a drink before going into the dining room for their evening meal. The white paneling in this room was delicate but just as detailed as elsewhere on the ship, and I noticed the decorative molding on the ceiling here as well, a pattern of alternating squares and swirls. Small groupings of wicker chairs with comfortable pads and small tables were scattered throughout the space, the occasional potted palm adding some warmth to the busy room. A huge tapestry hung at the entrance directly opposite the staircase, and its rich detail and coloring drew the eye immediately. I stopped and stood to one side to take in the scene while Redvers checked in with the steward at the entrance to the dining room.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wunderly, excellent. If you’ll follow me to your table, I believe your tablemates have already begun their dinner, but that shouldn’t be an issue.” He gestured for us to follow him, and we fell into line behind him.

The dining room was enormous, extending nearly the entire width of the ship, and although it was only one level, the high ceilings gave it a feeling of spaciousness. The patterned ceiling from the reception area was repeated here, with decorative wood pillars running in a line down the center of the room. It seemed there were perfectly set tables and elegantly dressed passengers as far as the eye could see. Our seating assignment was centrally located with a decent view in both directions—I was certain that was no accident. Redvers would be able to casually keep an eye on the entire room from here. I then turned my attention to our table, finding three people already seated, and the steward gave an apologetic smile before turning on his heel and hurrying away. I wondered for only a moment what he was sorry for.

“Well, you’re a bit late, but sit yourselves down.” The owner of the booming voice that greeted us was a buxom woman wearing a dress entirely covered with silver sequins, and the overhead light playing over them was nearly blinding. She half stood as we approached to rearrange herself in her chair, and I could see that her height was matched only by her width. We only just managed to introduce ourselves and take our seats when the woman continued on in the same projecting volume even though we shared a table. “I’m Miss Eloise Baumann and this is my sister, Margret Gould.” She gestured to the thin woman sitting quietly at the table sipping a glass of water. Then she turned to the gentleman who had stood when we approached and was seated at Margret’s left. “And this is Douglas Gould.” Her lip curled a bit as Douglas nodded briefly at us and went back to his soup. It looked as though Douglas was determined to ignore any further interruptions to his meal.

“Where are you both from?” Eloise didn’t wait for either of us to actually answer her question before continuing on. “We hail from New York, and were just spending a little holiday in England. Well, these two were. I was interviewing with organizations to do some overseas missionary work. We must bring the good word to the savages overseas, you know, and with England over in India just now, it seemed like a good time to make the trip.”

I tried to keep my lip from curling at her characterization of the Indian people as “savages,” since I knew full well they were no such thing. From the corner of my eye I could see Redvers’ eyebrows creeping further up his foreh. . .