drank fully.
The gentleman excused himself. Two minutes later Jefferson Cartwright fell over on the table. His eyes were not drowsy or even closed as might become a man who had reached the limit of alcoholic capacity. Instead, they were wide open, bulging out of his skull.
Jefferson Cartwright was dead.
And the gentleman never returned.
Downtown in the press room of a New York tabloid an old typesetter punched out the letters of the short news story. It was to appear on page 10.
Banker Succumbs in Fashionable Men's Club. The typesetter was disinterested. Several machines away another employee pushed the keys
Grand Central: Locker Robbed. The man wondered. Isn't anything safe anymore?
Chapter Eighteen
At the captain's table in the first-class dining room of the Calpurnia, Elizabeth was somewhat surprised to find that her companion to the right was a man no more than thirty years old. The normal practice when she traveled alone was for the ship line to provide her with an aging diplomat or a retired broker, a good card player, someone with whom she'd have something in common.
She had no one to blame, however, as she had checked the captain's list - a procedure she insisted upon so that there would be no embarrassing business conflicts - and had merely noted that one Matthew Canfield was an executive with a sporting goods firm that purchased heavily in England. Someone with social connections, she had assumed.
At any rate he was likable. A polite young man, very shallow, she thought, and probably a good salesman, which he refreshingly admitted he was.
Toward the end of dinner a deck officer approached her chair: there was a cable for her.
'You may bring it to the table.' Elizabeth was annoyed.
The officer spoke softly to Elizabeth.
'Very well.' She rose from her chair.
'May I be of assistance, Madame Scarlatti?' asked Matthew Canfield, salesman, as he rose with the rest of the table.
'No, thank you.'
'Are you quite sure?'
'Quite, thank you.' She followed the deck officer out of the salon.
In the radio room, Elizabeth was shown to a table behind the counter and handed the message She noted the instructions at the top: 'Emergency - have addressee brought to office for immediate reply.'
She looked over at the deck officer who waited on the other side of the counter to escort her back to the salon. 'My apologies, you were following orders.'
She read the rest of the wireless.
MADAME ELIZABETH SCARLATTI: H.M.S. CALPURNIA, HIGH SEAS
VICE-PRESIDENT JEFFERSON CARTWRIGHT DEAD STOP CAUSE OF DEATH UNCERTAIN STOP AUTHORITIES SUSPECT ABNORMAL CIRCUMSTANCES STOP PRIOR TO DEATH CARTWRIGHT MADE PUBLIC A POSITION OF SIGNIFICANT RANK WITH SCARWICK FOUNDATION STOP WE HAVE NO RECORD OF SUCH POSITION YET INFORMATION RECEIVED FROM RELIABLE SOURCES STOP IN LIGHT OF ABOVE DO YOU WISH TO COMMENT OR INSTRUCT US IN ANY WAY STOP EPISODE MOST TRAGIC AND EMBARRASSING TO WATERMAN CLIENTS STOP AWAITING YOUR REPLY STOP
HORACE BOUIIER PRESIDENT WATERMAN TRUST COMPANY
*
Elizabeth was stunned. She wired Mr. Boutier that all announcements from the Scarlatti Industries would be issued by Chancellor Drew Scarlett within a week. Until then there would be no comment.
She sent a second wire to Chancellor Drew.
C. D. SCARLETT, 129 EAST SIXTY-SECOND STREET, NEW YORK
REGARDING JEFFERSON CARTWRIGHT NO STATEMENTS REPEAT NO STATEMENTS WILL BE ISSUED PUBLICLY OR PRIVATELY REPEAT PUBLICLY OR PRIVATELY UNTIL WE ARE IN CONTACT FROM ENGLAND STOP REPEAT NO STATEMENT STOP
AFFECTIONATELY AS ALWAYS
MOTHER
*
Elizabeth felt she should reappear at the table if for no other reason than to avoid calling too much attention to the incident. But as she walked slowly back through the narrow corridors with the deck officer, it came upon her with progressive apprehension that what had happened was a warning. She immediately dismissed the theory that Cartwright's 'questionable activities' caused his murder. He was a joke.
What Elizabeth had to be prepared for was the discovery of her agreement with Cartwright. There could be several explanations, which she would issue without elaboration. Of course, regardless of what she said, the consensus would be that age had finally caught up with her. Such an agreement with such a man as Jefferson Cartwright was proof of eccentricity to the degree that raised questions of competence.
This did not concern Elizabeth Scarlatti. She was not subject to the opinion of others.
What concerned her, and concerned her deeply, was the cause of her profound fear: the fact that the agreement might not be found.
Back at the captain's table she dismissed her absence with a short, sincere statement that one of her trusted executives, of whom she was quite fond, had died. As