The Adriatic left New York on Saturday, January 20. It was now ten till midnight on Saturday the 27th. It had taken the ship only seven days, 13 hours and 50 minutes to reach Liverpool. Trevor had plenty of time to work out the figures while he lay in bed, reliving the trip in his head.
What was wrong with Adeline? She hadn't spoken to him in a week, and ignored him whenever he tried to speak to her. She'd never behaved like this at home. "Mum's perfectly happy being a wife and mother. Why can't Addie?"
"How's that?" Cyril asked, stuffing clothes into his trunk in one massive heap.
"Hm? Oh, just thinking out loud. Mum is happy, isn't she? I was just wondering why Adeline couldn't be happy living the same life. What's so bad about it?"
"Heh. I'm not sure Mum really wanted to have six children, she just didn't have any choice, did she? We were needed to work the farm, but I for one hated farming. Addie just doesn't want that kind of life. You know she was born and raised a city girl."
Trevor put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. "Hmm."
"Aren't you going to pack? The ship is docking as we speak. We have to get topside. Heh. This sounds familiar. Hard to believe it was only a few years ago we arrived at Ellis Island, eh? Thank God we don't have to go through that again."
"Yeah. I doubt there are any steerage passengers on board."
"Nah, I expect it's rather a one-way trip for them." Cyril slammed his trunk shut and then pulled Trevor's out from under the divan. After stuffing his brother's clothes into it, he stowed the trunk near the door beside his own. "Do you see anything I've forgotten?" He looked around the cabin, and Trevor climbed out of bed.
"No, I don't see anything," he said, giving the room a careless once-over, but Cyril double-checked for himself.
A knock on the door interrupted them, and a bellhop offered to carry their luggage to the boat deck.
"Heh! Big difference from the last ship, eh, Trev?" Cyril asked, digging through his pockets for a tip. "You all right, Trev?"
"Huh?" Trevor looked up as the bellhop grabbed the trunks and loaded them onto a rolling cart.
"You look rather dazed," Cyril remarked. "Why don't you just make up with Addie so things can get back to normal?" He followed the bellhop out of the cabin and down the corridor to the first class lifts.
Trevor shook his head as he lagged behind. "I'm not sure I ever knew Addie at all." He thought about this a moment, and then changed his mind. "No, I did know her. This isn't Addie. The laudanum has changed her. I can't make up with her until she quits the laudanum."
"Fine, fine. Have it your way, Mr. Rigid Knickers. You won't mind if I court Addie then, since you're through with her now?"
Trevor stopped in his tracks, glaring. "What did you say?"
Cyril laughed and boarded the elevator, while Trevor caught up with him.
The rest of the troupe waited in the chairs around the base of the grand staircase where it was warm rather than sitting out on deck in the dark. Bert spotted the bellman's cart and added his own bags to it, noting the choler in the air around Trevor.
Once the ship had docked and the crew had fastened the mooring ropes, Trevor followed the rest of the troupe down the gangplank, not really paying attention to much of anything as he replayed Cyril's last comment through his head a dozen times.
"You won't mind if I court Addie then, since you're through with her now?"
Just what had he meant by that? Was it a joke? Or did Addie's nakedness do something to Cyril just as the frolic had once done something to him? He couldn't ask with everyone gathered around, so his mind turned obsessively on the matter. He didn't notice when Bert and Gladys argued about how to get to the train station. He didn't notice when a car pulled up and two men climbed out, waving the other members of the troupe away as they approached.
But he did notice when one of them grabbed his arm and said, "Theodore Gardner? I'm Detective Constable Nigel Burroughs, and we'd like to ask you some questions about a murder."
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