Reed took her arm in his, and they turned toward their carriage.
“I suppose Berne was put on that policy and yanked off the boat not so much because he’s a ruthless blackmailer or even smart enough to cook up insurance fraud, but because he was duped into being the patsy should anyone ever start asking questions.”
“Most likely,” Charlotte agreed.
“And when do you think the overseer will return from his time away, dear wife?”
“Never,” she surmised.
“Most likely,” Reed echoed her words. “I think we should send the police over to Dilbey’s place before he disappears, too, if it’s not already too late.”
“What of Mr. Kelly?” she asked.
“I don’t think he had anything to do with it. He was making good money every year until the disaster, and he wouldn’t have risked his yard’s reputation on a one-time payoff.”
“Agreed,” she said. “What of Mr. Gilbert?”
Reed shook his head. “I’m not sure. What do you think?”
“He had to have known that the boat was poorly designed unless he was utterly incompetent. What’s more, a yard overseer couldn’t order the likes of Finn Bennet to build a ship incorrectly. Gilbert had to be party to this terrible scheme. Tantamount to murder, isn’t it?”
“I believe a judge and jury will see it that way, yes.”
“For all three of them?” she asked.
Reed nodded. “Maybe four. Perhaps we can get Berne to tell us more if he understands it will save him from being held accountable.”
“Good idea.” Charlotte climbed into their carriage. “Should we try speaking to Mr. Gilbert at the Navy yard?”
“Yes. With a goodly sized police presence,” Reed suggested.
***
Waving slightly at Chef Louis in his white uniform, busy at his stove, Rose went up to Finn’s room.
The door was ajar. Inside, the chamber looked nothing as it had when she’d been there last. Instead of tidy and shipshape, as Finn called it, his things were strewn about as if someone had been looking for something. The chair she’d sat upon had been tipped over, and even his mattress was askew.
Not knowing what else to do and hoping Finn would return while she was there, she set to righting the place. She began by putting his clothing back in his chest of drawers and that was when she found the locket.
With a gasp, she retrieved it from the back of the top drawer, pulling the familiar chain out with a trembling hand. She didn’t have to open it. She knew what was inside, a lock of her own hair that she’d given him along with the locket and gold chain on their wedding day — a memento and hopefully a talisman to keep her husband safe. She recalled years earlier how bitterly she had cursed the abysmal job it had done of bringing Finn back to her after the ship went down, and then she’d thought of it no more.
Apparently, he’d kept it around his neck, and it had survived the shipwreck and his rescue and his years in the British Isles. Then apparently, when back in Boston, he’d removed it.
The fact that the gold, shining in her palm, was still in his ransacked room meant that this had not been a robbery, or at least not a very thorough one. Someone had been looking for something specific or perhaps merely intended to scare him.
When she had thoroughly straightened up the room to her satisfaction, she adjusted her hat and put on her gloves, and went downstairs.
“Chef Ober,” she said, wishing she didn’t have to disturb him while he was working.
“Oui, mademoiselle?” He didn’t turn.
“I apologize for interrupting you, but can you tell me where I might find Mr. Bennet?”
She saw the man pause in stirring his sauce and then he resumed a gentle motion with the spoon.
“Your brother asked me the same thing the other day. As did another man. Everyone wants Phineas. All for different reasons, I suspect.” He looked up from the pan. “Why do you want to find him?”
Rose felt her cheeks grow warm. Why did she want to find him? She certainly didn’t owe this man an explanation. Walking closer, she glanced at the sunny yellow sauce with flashes of rich orangey-red.
