Justice Done Read online

  Parsons. Elliot Parsons.

  Robert was related to Ada. He was her grandson. She knew it as surely as she knew anything. Her mind reeled. Robert was Sarah’s cousin—her adopted cousin, at any rate. And all this time—all this time!—Ada had made a guessing game out of her grandson’s identity. Why?

  Mechanically, Sarah began putting the letters away. She came across one other item, a drawing. A cartoon. The subject of the cartoon had aged, but he was easily recognized. The Adam’s apple was exaggerated of course, and so was the blush. “Capt. Dolman, our fearless leader,” was scrawled at the bottom of one corner of the drawing.

  The room seemed to be closing in on her and she stood up and made her way into the sitting room. She turned the light on, and moving to the portholes, opened one, and took a deep breath of the cold air. She sat down in a nearby chair. She was glancing at the carpet, noting a pair of parallel lines on it. Wheel marks from a dolly or handcart, she thought to herself, just as she heard a key sliding into the lock.

  She braced herself for a confrontation with Ada, but it was not Ada who opened the door. Robert Parsons stood before her.

  “Sarah? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Ada’s worried about you,” he said, closing the door behind him, crossing the room to sit near her. “She’s been waiting for you to bring her key back. Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, glancing at the open porthole.

  “I’m fine, cousin.”

  He stiffened. “She told you—and apparently didn’t do a very good job of it.”

  “No, I found out quite by accident. By being clumsy. I knocked over a briefcase full of letters from your grandfather. I didn’t mean to snoop, but . . . well, I didn’t read the letters.”

  “Sarah, I’ve never wanted to hide anything from you. Ada insisted, and I let her talk me into it. I never should have gone along with it.”

  “Why? Why didn’t she want me to know?”

  He hesitated, then said, “For two reasons. The first is that she didn’t want you to get hurt. She was afraid—after the way the Milingtons treated you—she didn’t want you to feel as if I were more important to her than you are. I’m not Sarah—honest to God, I’m not.”

  When she didn’t reply, he said, “You’ve been her granddaughter for years. If you don’t want to share her, I’ll understand.”

  “Oh, it’s not that!” she said. “It’s just—just a lot to take in.”

  “Yes, it’s a lot for me to take in, too, and I’ve had a year to get used to the idea. She didn’t even know I existed. I managed to track her down when I was trying to learn more about what happened to my grandfather—to Elliot Parsons. Ada and my father were estranged.”

  “Because of his stepfather? Ada’s next husband?”

  “Yes. So you know about that?”

  “Not much.”

  “When my dad died, I wanted to learn more about his side of the family, and meet this grandmother of mine. I also wanted to know more about my grandfather. At first, I just wanted to find out if my father’s story was true, that his father had died aboard the Queen Mary, while on the passage to Europe. I learned much more. And I told Ada what I had learned.”

  “About his murder?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s the second reason she didn’t want to tell me?”

  But before he could answer, there was a knock at the door of the suite. “Robert? Sarah?” they heard Ada’s voice call.

  Robert opened the door to admit Ada and Captain Dolman.

  “Here’s your key, Grandmother,” Sarah said.

  Ada studied her as she took the key, then rounded on Robert. “You told her!”

  “No,” Sarah said, and explained how she had learned that Robert was Ada’s grandson. “And he is just about to tell me the second reason you didn’t want me to know about it.”

  “Nonsense!” she said firmly. “Now, although the party was wonderful, I’m completely exhausted, so all of you will please leave my room. All except Sarah.”

  “Ada—” Robert began.

  “Now,” she said, giving him a look that would have sent an emperor running. It was more than enough for Captain Dolman. For several long minutes, it seemed that Robert would refuse to obey.

  “I’ll be all right,” Sarah said. His frustration evident, Robert finally followed Dolman’s lead.

  But in the meantime, Sarah had given some thoughts to the events of the day, and when the door closed behind Robert, she asked, “Where is Senator Hastings?”

  “How should I know?”

  “You know. Why did you invite him?”

  “He practically invited himself.”

  “I don’t believe that. He’s not running in your congressional district; he’s not your state senator. And he is certainly not the type of person you would back in either race.”

  “Whom I invite to my own birthday party—”

  “A party on a ship where, according to Robert, your first husband was murdered—”

  “Robert will have to learn to keep quiet. Although I daresay you might receive more of his confidences than anyone else would.”

  “I should hope so. I’m his cousin.”

  “He doesn’t think of you in that way, Sarah. I can guarantee you that much. And that is not to say that he doesn’t want to be related to you.”

  Blushing, Sarah said, “Don’t try to change the subject, you wily old woman.”

  Ada smiled, but didn’t reply.

  “You invited two men I’ve never heard you mention before, and you were with both of them before the festivities began. One of them disappeared not long after the party started. The other man hasn’t been three feet from your side all night; you have a funny little caricature of him drawn by your late husband.”

  “What you think you’re getting at, I’m sure I don’t know,” Ada said.

  “I think you were getting at something—or rather, someone tonight, Grandmother. Maybe it’s too late for justice—legal justice. But you’ve arranged for revenge, haven’t you?”

  Ada said nothing. She moved to the porthole, looked out at the harbor.

  “Grandmother, you can trust me. I—I may not be family, but I love you as much as—”

  “Don’t talk nonsense!” Ada said, her voice quavering. “Of course you’re my family. I don’t want you to come to any harm, don’t you see? And you wouldn’t like this particular brand of revenge.”

  Sarah took a deep breath, and said, “Have you murdered a state senator, Grandmother?”

  Ada turned to look at her. “You think I’m capable of that?”

  “No,” Sarah answered.

  “Thank God for that, at least.”

  “Well, if you haven’t killed him—” She looked around the room, an idea suddenly occurring to her. Horrified, she said, “Grandmother—the trunk! You’ve locked him in the trunk!”

  “Yes,” Ada said.

  “Where is it? Where’s the trunk?”

  “Sarah—”

  “It’s in Robert’s room, isn’t it? That’s why Robert had the other key to your room—you didn’t give it to him, he already had it.” Her eyes went back to the carpet. “The wheel marks—that’s what made them. Oh, Grandmother! It isn’t right.”

  “Where are you going?” Ada asked in alarm, as Sarah hurried toward the door.

  Sarah didn’t answer.

  She could hear the phone in his room ringing, even before she got to the door. It was quiet on the ship now; most of the guests had turned in for the night.

  When he answered the door, she said, “I don’t care what Grandmother said to you just now—”

  “Come inside,” he said, glancing up and down the passageway.

  Once the door was closed behind her, he said, “She only wants to protect you, Sarah. I’m in
too deep now, but you don’t have to be involved. It would be better if—”

  “Remember that painting?” she interrupted. “The one of the dancers, in the Observation Bar?”

  He nodded.

  “I don’t want to be an outsider, Robert. We’re all in this together. Please, Robert—”

  “All right,” he said, “but Sarah—”

  She heard a muffled thumping sound, and pushed past Robert into the bedroom.

  The trunk lay near the foot of the bed. She heard the thumping sound again. Her face pale, she turned to Robert and said, “Let him out!”

  “In a moment, when Grandmother and Captain Dolman arrive.”

  But images from her own nightmares surrounded her, and when she heard the thumping again, she turned to Robert with such a look of horror on her face that he relented, and began unfastening the trunk’s latches.

  As he lifted the lid, she saw that Hastings was bound and gagged. His face bore an expression that quickly passed from relief to anger.

  “Wait in the other room,” Robert said. “I’ll bring him out.”

  A few moments later, an irate Archer Hastings was led to a chair in the sitting room.

  “You’re out of that box thanks to Sarah,” Robert said. “But if you raise a ruckus of any kind, you’ll go right back into it.”

  Sarah saw the fear in Hastings’s eyes.

  “The trunk is custom made, isn’t it?” she said to Robert. “It’s built to be the same size as a soldier’s berth on the ship.”

  “Yes.”

  There was a knock at the door, and in another moment, Ada and Dolman had joined them.

  Hastings glared angrily at Ada.

  “You’d like to see me arrested, wouldn’t you?” Ada said to him.

  He nodded vigorously.

  “The feeling is mutual.” She turned to her granddaughter. “Do you know how Elliot died?”

  Sarah shook her head.

  “Tell me, Sarah, was the Queen Mary air conditioned?”

  “Not all of it—not until later years, after the war.”

  “And before the war?”

  “Not on all decks. It wasn’t necessary. The ship was built for travel on the North Atlantic. The electric fireplaces in the first class cabins—”

  “Never mind the fireplaces,” Ada said. “You just made an important point. The ship was built for North Atlantic crossings.”

  “You knew that, didn’t you, Mr. Hastings?” Robert said.

  Hastings made an angry sound behind the gag.

  “Oh, pardon me. I’ll remove the gag, but I’ll expect you to keep your voice at a conversational level. If you don’t—” He nodded toward Captain Dolman, who held a gun aimed at Hastings. “I’m afraid Captain Dolman, who is an excellent shot, will be allowed to fulfill his fondest wish.”

  “Now see here,” Hastings said as the gag was removed, “I’ve heard for years about Ada Milington’s crazy parties, but this is too much! Let me go now, and we can forget this ever happened.”

  “As you’ve forgotten what happened to those men you murdered?” Ada asked.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “Sarah,” Ada said. “How many standee berths were placed in the cabin class swimming pool?”

  “One hundred and ten,” she answered promptly. “Was that where Elliot was assigned while on the ship?”

  “Yes,” Dolman answered. “My unit was sent to that hellhole.”

  “It was crowded for everybody!” Hastings said. “There was a war on, remember? We needed to get troops to Europe and the Pacific.”

  “And that was your responsibility,” Robert said.

  “Yes, of course it was. I made this ship ten times more efficient for the transporting of troops.”

  “The numbers got bigger and bigger, thanks to you.”

  “That’s right. That’s why you didn’t grow up speaking German or Japanese, sonny boy.”

  “I fought against them,” Dolman said, “but they were the enemy then, and the war was on. But you weren’t supposed to be our enemy, Hastings. Troops weren’t supposed to die because of you.”

  “You’re insane! All of you! I worked at a desk job! I didn’t kill anybody. Sarah—” he pleaded, turning to the one person who seemed inclined to show him mercy.

  But Sarah had been thinking about the questions that had been asked so far. “The ship has no portholes in the pool area,” she said, frowning. “The room is completely enclosed. During the war, the pool was drained, but that would mean that the temporary berths were positioned . . .” She looked at Robert.

  “Yes, you’ve guessed it.”

  “Directly above one of the boilers,” she finished, staring at Hastings now.

  “We crossed the damned Equator in a ship built to go from Southampton to New York,” Dolman said. “The tropics, Hastings. Do you know what it’s like to watch men dying of the heat? Suffocating to death? No fresh air, just the stench of people getting sick and sweating and some of them dying. Temperatures over a hundred and ten degrees—and that’s on the upper decks. Down where we were, it was a damned oven, Hastings. I say we put you in that trunk and we heat it up until you feel your blood boiling. You should have had to watch men like young Elliot Parsons die. I had to, Hastings, and I’ll never forget it!”

  “There was no way I could have known—” Hastings pleaded. “We were just trying to do our best to fight the war.”

  “Until now,” Dolman said, “I didn’t know who made the decisions about how we were going to be loaded in there. There wasn’t any escape for us then, and there shouldn’t be any for you now.”

  “You aren’t going to kill me! Not for something that happened so long ago! Not for a simple miscalculation!”

  “What do you want from him?” Sarah asked.

  “Withdraw from the Congressional race,” Ada said.

  “What?”

  “And resign from office,” Robert added.

  “You’ll never get away with this!”

  “People get away with things like this all the time. You’ve been getting away with murder for over fifty years.”

  “It wasn’t murder, I tell you! We didn’t know.”

  Sarah frowned. “But you must have known.”

  “What?”

  “The voyage Elliot Parsons sailed on—it wasn’t the first voyage to cross the Equator.” She looked at Hastings. “You didn’t miscalculate. You accepted the fact that some men might die on the voyage.”

  There was a long silence, broken only when Robert said, “Bravo, Sarah.”

  “We can prove all of this, Hastings,” Ada said. “Retire as a State Senator, or lose an election in shame.”

  “Do you think anyone is going to care about what happened then?”

  “Put him in the trunk again!” Dolman said. “He’ll have just as much room to move around as we did. Let’s see him win an election from there.”

  “No—no! I won’t run for office. I swear I won’t. Just let me out of here!”

  “Don’t trust him!” Dolman said.

  “There’s another alternative,” Robert said, opening a drawer in a built-in desk.

  “What?” Hastings asked, apprehensively.

  Robert didn’t answer right away, but when he turned around, he held a syringe.

  “What’s in there?” Hastings asked.

  “Oh, you’ll just have to trust me,” Robert said, “maybe it will give you a fever—something that will make your blood boil, as Captain Dolman says—or maybe it will just help you to sleep.”

  When State Senator Archer Hastings awakened, he was hot, unbearably hot, and thirsty. He was still on the ship, he realized hazily. The damned ship. And, he realized with alarm, he was not in his bed, but in an enclosed space—the trunk. He pushed against the lid�
�it flew open.

  Shaking, he crawled out of it, onto the bed. He was still hot, miserably hot, and the terror of the trunk would not leave him.

  He reached for the phone next to his bed, and said thickly, “Help. Send a doctor in to help me. I’m ill.”

  Not much later, a doctor did arrive. He stepped into the room and said, “Are you chilled?”

  “Chilled? Are you mad? I’m burning up!”

  “So am I,” the physician said, and turned down the thermostat. “Open the portholes and you’ll be fine.”

  “Those damned people!” Hastings exclaimed.

  “Which people?” the doctor said, in the tone of one who has encountered a lunatic.

  “Mrs. Ada Milington—is she still aboard?”

  “Oh no. I’m the last of Ada’s party still on the ship. She said you’d had a bit too much to drink last night and asked me to make sure you got off the ship all right. She was in a rush.”

  “I’ll bet she was.”

  “She asked me to give you a message. She said for you to remember that you have an open invitation to a pool party.”

  Hastings frowned. “Where’s she off to? I need to talk to her.”

  “Oh, I believe she’s well on her way to Glacier Bay by now—one of the Alaskan cruise lines. She said something about her grandchildren getting married at sea. Quite eccentric, Ada,” the doctor mused, as he was taking his leave. “Yes eccentric—but I’d take her seriously, if I were you, sir.” He paused before closing the door. “Shall I ask the hotel to send someone to help you with that trunk?”

  “No! I don’t want the damned thing.”

  The doctor shrugged and left.

  Hastings brooded for a moment, considered the odds of convincing anyone that he had been kidnapped by Ada Milington. He would retire, he decided. There was a sense of relief that came with that decision.

  All the same, he continued to feel confined. He hurried to a porthole, opened it and took a deep breath.