Little do her passengers know that KILKENNY, master criminal and assassin at large, hides on board! MADAME MORTIMER, lady detective—fresh off of her latest victory over the forces of anarchy and corruption in THE CASE OF THE DISAPPEARING DESPERADO—has taken a private car on the Rye with her loyal companion, the heiress WILHELMINA WILDHEART, hoping for a little rest and relaxation.
In the lounge we find our players: FATHER PATRICK, a missionary with a dark past and a secret to protect, bound for Herschel City; HELENA HARLOW, wealthy owner of Blue Eden, a notorious Te Deum brothel; ARTHUR KINDLY, a veteran of the Martian wars, headed for retirement and the good life in the outer system; BARNABY SKY, a dashing playboy with vicious gambling debts; and JACINTA LABIANCA, a Mercurial horse breeder with a man on the side.
GIOVANNI ASSISI, interstellar coffee baron, lies face down on a Turkish rug with a Psementhean bridal knife in his back. Madame Mortimer stands over him with her hand on the pommel of her pistol.]
MADAME MORTIMER
Oh, I do love a spot of murder with my tea!
JACINTA LABIANCA
What a thing to say! Poor Mr Assisi!
MADAME MORTIMER
Poor, indeed! Didn’t you hear? Typhoons took out his Venusian plantations. The man was just desperate for a wife to top up his coffers—he’s been canoodling with half the ship, really scraping the bottom of the blueblood barrel. He’d have been knocking at Father Patrick’s door before long. It would seem someone has spared him the embarrassment. Well! The cards are dealt! [She claps her hands sharply.] Place your bets, ladies and gentleman. We have a murderer on the ship and I intend to flush him out. And not only on the ship—I have reason to believe the murderer is in this very room!
[All gasp.]
Wilhelmina, darling, would you be so kind as to stand guard by the carriage door? Thank you. I’m afraid I can’t allow any of you to leave just yet. Everything we need to solve this sordid little mess is right here at our fingertips, if only we are keen enough to see, grasp, and act! Confusion spreads out from a corpse like blood. The further one gets from the body, the harder it is to see the truth. Mr Assisi’s death is a fact—everything else is mere supposition.
Let us hew to the facts. Firstly, Giovanni Assisi is dead. Secondly, he lost his fortune. Thirdly, he recently divorced his wife, the long-suffering nurse Annalisa Assisi, leaving her with seven children on Ganymede. Fourthly, he has been carrying on an affair with Miss LaBianca—I’m sorry, my dear, but how many women wear a Venusian coffee flower in their lapel? It’s a hideous plant. Besides, you reek of his aftershave.
JACINTA LABIANCA
I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about! I have an aunt on Venus!
MADAME MORTIMER
Don’t worry, dear, he meant to break it off with you before we made planetfall. Your…bank accounts…aren’t nearly large enough for his tastes. And, fifthly, I’m afraid, he was a frequent customer of Miss Harlow’s, and he paid her a great deal of money while we were docked in orbit waiting for our acceleration window. Clearing a bill? Perhaps. A creature of prodigious appetites, our man Giovanni! Next, I believe our young Master Sky owed the deceased a rather large poker debt? He needed you to pay up, and quickly, but you couldn’t, could you, Barney?
BARNABY SKY
How the devil would you know that?
MADAME MORTIMER
Oh, it’s perfectly obvious. You aren’t in the least upset by his death! Our unhappy friend here positively adored cards and played with everyone on board—except you. He wouldn’t come near you, and when you dealt in to a table he got up to leave. And Father Patrick—tsk tsk, Father! One of those seven children is not an Assisi, isn’t that right? Annalisa is a noble beauty and a pure soul, it’s true. But when Papa Johnny here showed Willy and me his lovely family portrait, I couldn’t help but notice that one of the little angels—Lucia, was it?—looked ever so much like you.
FATHER PATRICK
That’s a damnable lie!
MADAME MORTIMER
Oh, I think not. But that’s the marvellous thing about a murder—it brings everything out in the open. All the dark places just scrubbed with sunshine and flung wide for all to see. A sudden and unexpected crime sharpens the soul wonderfully.
[KILKENNY has been sitting in a chair facing the quiet hearth all the while. He is smoking a pipe, wearing a pinstripe suit and a rakish hat.]
KILKENNY
Well put, Miss Mortimer. I quite agree.
WILHELMINA WILDHEART
Kilkenny!
MADAME MORTIMER