Aeronaut Gone Read online

  “No,” Grandfather Longmont said resolutely.

  “Perhaps just to leave the ladies.”

  “I only work for Ms. Lavender and Mrs. Hughes,” Herzfeld told them. “The chances of me taking the rest of you out is well, non-existent to be quite frank. I’m only here now because this was made possible by Ms. Lavender.”

  “There’s gratitude for you,” Douglas said, getting no response from his wife, but Daisy smirked and his grandfather scowled deeply.

  “Well and to leave you of course,” Mr. Longmont added. He glanced around, noting Betsy clutching at her husband’s arm and Daisy’s wide gaze, begging to leave. Hettie and Ro were weighing each statement.

  “This ship belongs to me,” Herzfeld laughed darkly. “It doesn’t go out if I don’t.”

  “Well,” Jade softly said, “I won’t deny I’d prefer to return after our adventures. There seems to be something sinister in the jungle, but if Grandfather Longmont wants to go on, I won’t have my own wishes held over him.”

  “To be quite frank,” Truman told them all. “The only ones who get to vote about this voyage are Hettie, Ro, and Herzfeld. The rest of us are here at their convenience and nothing more.”

  Douglas scoffed darkly almost in unison with his twin, but Grandfather Longmont turned to the three of them, his watery, ancient eyes pleading as he said, “Well? What of it? Will you grant a very old man his dying wish?”

  Hettie turned to Ro and they conferred silently before turning to Herzfeld who nodded very slightly. Hettie was certain of Ro’s feelings for Truman when she turned back to him. “What do you think, Detective?” This time it wasn’t an insult. “Is it safe?”

  That was a veiled question if ever there was one. Was it safe to continue with this family who almost certainly contained an attempted killer? But that wasn’t all of it, either. The friends and Herzfeld well knew that this was their chance to find that killer and stop him.

  If they went back to their real lives, if Hettie and Ro escaped to Paris, if the Longmonts took their grandfather home, sooner or later, Douglas Longmont’s death would occur. His killer was patient and clever. Whatever happened to him might easily be overlooked by those who investigated.

  “We’ll stay a little longer,” Hettie told Grandfather Longmont softly. “As long as you promise not to make a fuss when it’s finally time to return.”

  “I promise,” he said. His gaze turned to his son and grandchildren triumphantly. “What an adventure we’ll have.”

  “Oh!” Daisy said, stomping her foot. “Oh! How could you?” Her pretty eyes filled with tears and for once, Hettie didn’t think the woman was faking. Daisy wanted to go back to the hotel and be pampered.

  “You shouldn’t have made her come,” Douglas told Frederick.

  “Betsy came,” Frederick snapped.

  “But she wanted to,” Douglas muttered, shaking off his wife. “She could have stayed behind if she wanted.”

  Frederick muttered something low and stormed off the deck of the ship. When his wife called after him, he waved her off with a dark look and said, “I’ll be having a nap in Grandfather’s bunk. Not all of us have the relentless energy of a man who’s preparing to face God.”

  Daisy stared after him and then shook her head, turning to Douglas as she said, “I want to go home.”

  “Sorry darling,” Douglas told her. “We’ve been overruled. I believe I shall have a smoke. Be a darling, would you, and fetch my cigarettes?”

  Daisy frowned darkly and Hettie didn’t wonder at it. Were they lovers or had he stolen that picture of Daisy naked? If Frederick didn’t know about the photograph, it might be enough for Daisy to go get Douglas’ cigarettes and paste a smile on her face that did not go to her eyes.

  Betsy watched it all and said nothing, just bit her bottom lip and crossed to the side of the ship to escape the dueling brothers. A moment later, Hettie followed.

  “Are you all right?” Hettie asked.

  “What do you care?” Betsy replied.

  “Well you didn’t say anything when we were talking about staying or going.” Hettie examined the woman's face, noticing the clenched fists, the dark circles under her eyes. “You look like you might want to go home.”

  “Oh,” Betsy laughed low. “If I had asked to return too, would you have listened to me? Why should what I want matter to you, a near stranger, when it doesn’t matter to any of them?”

  Hettie’s head cocked at the bitterness in the woman’s voice. “Your grandfather and your sister-in-law had very conflicting wishes,” Hettie admitted. “I suppose if your grandfather hadn’t been asking so fiercely, we’d have returned to appease your sister-in-law.”

  Betsy turned slowly and asked, “Where did you grow up, Mrs. Hughes?”

  “In Canada,” Hettie replied. “Have you been?”

  The look on Betsy’s face demanded why she would want to go to such a place. Instead of replying she said, “I was raised in the Lake Country on a rather large farm. My father was wealthy for a farmer and I was beautiful. Everyone wanted to marry me, but I wanted the best. When Douglas Longmont came courting, charming with his grin, and his jokes, I fell in love so hard.” Betsy’s gaze roved over Hettie again, but Hettie had the feeling the other woman wasn’t seeing Hettie at all. “Do you know what that feels like?”

  Hettie started to say no, but she decided to be honest instead. “Yes. At first, I loved my husband very much.”

  “I should like to go back to those days,” Betsy told Hettie. “When my father looked after me, my mother spoiled me and gossiped with me, when I was the belle of every ball, and the catch of the year. I should like to go back to being romanced and appreciated, but most especially, I should like to go back to when I spoke and everyone listened to me. Now? Loud or soft. Shrill or quiet, I might as well not speak at all. So, no. I didn’t tell you I wanted to go back. You wouldn’t have listened any more than the rest of them did.”

  Hettie cleared her throat, suddenly feeling very badly for Betsy Longmont. They would never be friends, but in the face of the continued journey, the woman’s shield had broken down enough for Hettie to see what went on behind her veiled eyes.

  “Do you wish to go back?” Betsy asked Hettie.

  It took Hettie a minute to answer, but she decided again upon honesty. “I miss the person I was then. I was filled with brightness and hope, but no. However, my father didn’t protect me, and my mother didn’t gossip with me and listen to all my worries. I was assuredly not the belle of every ball, and though I am quite wealthy, I wasn’t the catch of the season. Then or now.”

  “Perhaps it’s your friend Ro who is. I should like to be free again.”

  Hettie’s blunt honesty pushed through and she said, “You weren’t free then. Your father just kept you in a very nice cage.”

  “Well, perhaps it was simply a more comfortable one than the one I have now,” Betsy told Hettie. “I find the lot of a woman incredibly hard.”

  Hettie didn’t have an argument with that so instead she offered to get Betsy something to drink and was declined. A moment later, Hettie said she would get one for herself and escaped. She crossed to fill her canteen and then found Grandfather Longmont at the helm again while Truman, Ro, Neville, and Herzfeld had taken sanctuary at the back of the ship.

  “What was all that?” Ro asked as Hettie offered her canteen.

  “Betsy wants to go back to being a girl again. She found it a better life than her current one.”

  “Her husband is a right bas—” Captain Herzfeld cleared his throat and ended with an, “Excuse me.”

  “That he is,” Ro agreed. “I would rather die than be a girl again.”

  “We’d have to learn all the hard things we’ve learned so far again,” Hettie agreed, shuddering. “No. Never.”

  “Thankfully it isn’t an option,” Nevi finished, his kind eyes crinkling. “We can only let go of the burdens we’ve faced along the way and carry on.”

  “Well,” Ro said. “I t
hink we need to discuss how to catch our man.”

  “I’m not sure we’ll get away with any overt traps,” Truman said. “Our space is so small. The best we can do is keep a constant eye on him and ensure that the next attempt isn’t successful.”

  “Surely, it’s the twin,” Herzfeld said. “Those two don’t like each other a bit, though there’s no denying they’re variations of the same scoundrel.”

  Hettie laughed and then muttered, “I suppose I shouldn’t find that funny.”

  “You’re going to have to keep eyes on him,” Ro told Truman. “I cannot stomach the man. His charming smile, the way his eyes move over you as if he’s undressing you, the way he touches you and his fingers linger too long and too hard. No. You’ll have to earn your keep, I’m afraid. Hettie and I will keep our good captain company and watch the others, from a distance.”

  “Tell me,” Hettie said suddenly to Herzfeld. “How would you feel about bringing the airship back to Europe and taking us up over somewhere more civilized.”

  Herzfeld shrugged and then asked, “Such as?”

  “Ooh,” Hettie could feel herself brighten, “Holland. During tulip season. We shall create legs of the journey with places to land and inns to sleep in. I should like to have a bath on demand and good food rather than this jerky. Though, mind you, I am not complaining about the food we had to bring. I knew what we were getting into.”

  “We were sucked in by Jane,” Ro told Hettie. “It was almost as bad as how we were sucked in by Anne and Diana.”

  The two friends nodded and when they saw the questioning looks on the gentlemen’s faces, they shook their heads in unison. None of them needed to know they’d read Tarzan of the Apes and thought if Jane could do it, then surely they could as well. They might tease each other when no one else was around, but the gentlemen definitely did not need access to that secret.

  Ro’s gaze met Hettie’s and Ro snorted. Hettie had to bite down on her bottom lip to hold back a self-deprecating shout of laughter.

  “I’ll get it out of you,” Truman said, his head tilting at something and then Douglas shouted, throwing his canteen.

  “Bitter almonds!”

  “What now?” Hettie asked.

  “Stay here,” Neville told her as both him and Truman crossed to the man.

  Hettie turned to Ro and Herzfeld. “What did he say?”

  “You heard him,” Ro told Hettie, but Herzfeld answered.

  “Bitter almonds.”

  “In his canteen?” Hettie muttered. “Our canteens aren’t that different. Any of us could have partaken of that.”

  “Perhaps the killer is willing to sacrifice any of us to get his man.” Ro ran her hands over her arms, despite the heat.

  “But,” Hettie said a moment later, “Frederick went below decks and has been there for a while.”

  Herzfeld groaned as he adjusted his body against the deck and said, “Well the question is, then, when was the last time that canteen was drunk from and not poisoned?”

  “And,” Hettie and Ro said together with Hettie finishing, “when was it left unattended?”

  Chapter 17

  “It’s not Frederick,” Ro said more to herself than anyone else. They’d gathered around the helm to regroup. “If it’s not Frederick, then who is it?”

  To any other group of people, the captain gathered with Hettie, Ro, Truman, and Neville and whispering would have been awkward at the very least. In the case of the Longmonts they were too busy coming apart to notice anyone else.

  Ro watched Grandfather Longmont watch his family bicker and felt compassion for his long gaze of disappointment. He was facing the end of his days with one son gone already and at least two grandsons who had to be a severe disappointment.

  Slowly, Ro decided that someone needed to reach out to the poor man. It wasn’t his fault that his grandsons were so terrible.

  He made eye contact with Ro and pulled no punches after he crossed to them. “Who do you suppose it is trying to kill Douglas? I’ve tried to not see and just enjoy what will surely be my last flight in an airship, but it’s become too obvious for even a nearly dead, essentially blind old man not to see.”

  Hettie comforted the old man by putting an arm on his shoulder.

  Ro swallowed and looked him straight in the eye. “We thought it was Frederick. But this latest event with the bitter almonds in the water—well, it wasn’t Frederick. He’s been below decks. Do you have any suspicions, Grandfather Longmont?”

  “I doubt either of those boys have enough motivation to try and carry off premeditated murder, certainly not multiple times. They’re essentially useless, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Tell me, why did you suspect Frederick?”

  “It seems Douglas owes him quite a sum of money. We understand the way your estate has been set up that Frederick stands to gain much more of your inheritance with Douglas dead.” Ro deliberated whether she should go on, looked at Hettie who nodded ever so slightly, then decided to give the poor man the truth. “When we were searching for traces of the aeronaut when he disappeared, we discovered photographs of a, er, a revealing nature of Daisy in Douglas’s things. We think perhaps the two are having an affair which would also give Frederick a motive to remove Douglas as competition or simply kill him to get revenge. People have been murdered for much less.”

  “I see. It seems my family is quite as awful as I’d imagined them to be. I wonder, if you have ruled Frederick out of the scheme, who else might be motivated by those same facts to kill Douglas?”

  “Betsy,” Hettie breathed, awareness blooming on her face. “Of course. Ro, we should have seen this earlier. The wife of the philanderer. How well we know that role. We even joked about it when we met, do you remember?”

  Ro nodded, rubbing her stomach. Revisiting those days always left her a bit sick to her stomach. It was like looking back on a successful trek across the desert and being utterly shocked that you’d survived. How had she joked with Hettie that night? How had she had hope enough to make a friend and plans? Her fraught gaze met Hettie’s and the two of them took hold of each other.

  Hettie added, “Betsy said how miserable she is, how she’s lost her own voice…that nobody sees or hears her anymore. In fact, she’s so invisible we never even suspected it would be her. My goodness, we contributed to that, and we know that role so well.”

  Ro nodded. “Mr. Longmont, is that what you were implying?”

  He smiled, a sad smile, but still a smile. “I’ve been watching her for a bit and I noticed that she was never very affected by the many, many times that Douglas was nearly killed. In fact, only if she saw someone specifically watching her did she offer any sympathy for him at all.”

  “That doesn’t mean she’s guilty,” Truman said. “Once,” he glanced sheepishly at Hettie and Ro, “I’d have thought it were enough, but it isn’t.”

  “Ahhh,” Ro said, grinning at Truman before she remembered they were talking about attempted murder. Her mind raced back through the last several days and he was right. Betsy had either overreacted or underreacted every time her husband nearly met his end.

  Ro, in the security of her own thoughts, imagined how she’d have behaved if Truman continued to almost die at every turn. She’d have stuck herself to his side to keep her own anxieties at bay and to try, however ineffectively, to keep him alive. Betsy didn’t seem to care about Douglas’s fate at all, unless someone who thought she should care was observing her.

  “Let’s give her an opportunity to end him one last time, shall we?” Truman asked.

  “Now that we know it’s likely Betsy, I’m much less excited about catching her in the act,” Hettie admitted. “We know what it’s like to be married to horrific men.” She looked at Ro, and they both tried and failed to give the other a sympathetic smile.

  “Yes, but remember,” Neville said, “if we’re right, in her zeal to kill him, she nearly killed Captain Herzfeld.”

  “And,” Truman added, “by extension the rest of us whe
n she left us without an airship captain.”

  Neville then added, “She hasn’t actually killed anyone yet so perhaps you can think of it as a mission of mercy. If we stop her before she actually kills anyone, we may be helping her find her way to a new life. Once she’s murdered Douglas, she’ll find no peace and certainly will have an even bleaker future than she would as an attempted murderess. Hanging is not a good way to die. Let’s save her, shall we?”

  “Oh, you are beautiful when you are logically saving someone. I do love you, Dr. Hale.” She seemed as surprised as anyone else that she’d offered up such a public expression of her affections. Neville, however, seemed utterly flabbergasted.

  Ro laughed. “Hettie is a softie for men who protect women from the fate of their husbands, if you haven’t noticed.”

  “That’s enough,” Hettie said, “leave me alone.”

  Ro sniffed and then said, “Could we please focus on catching Betsy red-handed, thank you very much.”

  “I think I’ve got just the plan,” Truman said, whose mind had obviously been working on a solution since Grandfather Longmont’s suggestion. “Captain, it will require some trust in me. Do you have a slice of good faith left in you after such shenanigans?”

  The captain smiled. “I have nothing but trust and respect for you. How can I help?”

  The trap was set. After a bit of scheming, they’d decided to weave a trap for Betsy and give her just the right amount of push to convince her she was nearly out of time to eliminate her husband.

  Grandfather Longmont sat with Captain Herzfeld on the open deck of the ship. Their backs were to the hatch ladder. Neville, meanwhile, occupied Jade, Will, Frederick, and Mr. Longmont inside one of the cabins. He had decided to check people over to see if the stress had been too much and demanded they join him below decks to have their heart and lungs listened to.

  Truman hid out of sight, not an easy feat to cram so large a man behind the water barrel.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Ro asked Grandfather Longmont just before she and Hettie did their part.