My experience as a police inspector has taught me that many people are able to regard themselves with inordinate fondness, no matter what heinous crimes they have committed. They care only about how they look to others, and whether they can get away with it. -- Sophie Hannah, The Mystery of Three Quarters

If Yo-han had thrown a bomb at the gathered suspects he could hardly have caused more uproar. Tremaine and the doctor jumped as if they'd been stung. The captain dropped his pipe. The guards looked back and forth from Yo-han to Colman. Király leapt to his feet with an expression that suggested someone was about to get punched, and he hadn't decided yet if it was Colman or Yo-han. Miss Patton turned to Colman with a bewildered frown.

Colman himself returned Yo-han's stare without flinching and without any apparent emotion. He said nothing, simply raised one eyebrow and waited. His face was blank but there was something in his eyes that suggested he wanted to smile sardonically.

"You're wrong," Miss Patton said. Her voice wavered. "You... You must be wrong. Mr. Colman's my friend!"

A flicker of real emotion crossed Colman's face. Yo-han noticed it. Pain, he thought, but not guilt.

"Well, Mr. Colman?" he asked quietly.

Colman finally seemed to decide on how to play this. Perhaps he had a whole list of scripts for moments like these. He laughed almost naturally. "Alright, Mr. Seo. You've had your fun. But don't you think the joke's fallen flat?"

Yo-han simply looked at him. Colman looked back. He was smiling faintly but his eyes were very cold. Did he believe he could convince Yo-han he was wrong or did he know the game was up? Yo-han couldn't tell.

He got up and crossed to the door. An officer was waiting outside as he had asked. Yo-han took the box from him and went back to his chair. The officer locked the door again. Colman watched with his head on one side and a mildly puzzled expression. Everyone else looked bewildered. Király had sunk back down into his chair, but looked like he was ready to leap up again at a minute's notice.

"Do you recognise this?" Yo-han asked.

"Certainly," Colman said. "It's my violin case."

A chorus of indignant exclamations interrupted here. "That's not a violin case!" "Do you take us all for fools?" "Violin? Yeah, and I'm the Emperor of Mexico."

Colman waited until the others were quiet. "It is a violin case. I had it custom-made so it would look like an ordinary box, because my last violin was stolen. Open it and you'll see."

Yo-han took him at his word. He opened the box and held it up so everyone could see the violin.

"I admit, I gamble far too much," Colman said. "But I am quite capable of making money through acting or music. I don't need to go around killing people."

Yo-han ignored him and lifted the violin out. He set it carefully on the table. "Thank you, Mr. Király. Your suitcase gave me an important clue." He ran his fingers along the velvet lining that framed the space for the violin. "All of you can see this case is far larger than it needs to be. What is all that extra space used for?"

One corner moved when he touched it. Yo-han prised it up. The velvet lining came away. A chorus of gasps followed.

A gun lay in pieces in the hidden compartment.

Colman didn't react with anger or despair or even the slightest hint of embarrassment. He sighed and nodded as if he wasn't really surprised. His voice was quite calm as he asked, "What gave me away?"

"When Miss Patton asked what Adyghe is, you said it's a language similar to Russian. You claimed you only speak English, yet you have heard of an extremely obscure language and know where it's spoken. That made me think. I had already deduced Jughashvili's killer must have been good at disguises, so who better than an actor?"

Miss Patton had stared mutely at Colman since the gun was revealed. Her face showed more bafflement than anger, as if she still couldn't believe what was happening. At the mention of her name she turned and stared at Yo-han. There was confusion and hurt in her expression, but also dawning anger.

Yo-han continued, "Then of course you showed me your drawings. They made me realise you were interested in set design, which would include some knowledge of carpentry. Enough to know where to saw through a wall without hitting the wiring or pipes, perhaps.

"Any remaining doubt was destroyed when you sent Miss Patton that drawing this morning. I consulted a dictionary of flower meanings. Lilies of the valley, tulips, orchids and hyacinths have one thing in common: they all mean regret[1]. When used in a bouquet they mean the giver is apologising for something."

Colman winced. He turned to stare almost wildly at Miss Patton. "I never meant to put the blame on you. I thought you'd have an alibi. I was an idiot but I didn't deliberately frame you. Everything I've told you is true. I do think of you as a friend. Believe that if you believe nothing else."

Miss Patton stared at him. Her lip trembled and she clenched and unclenched her hands. She raised one hand sharply, but let it drop without striking him. Abruptly she got up and walked over to the other side of the room. She leant on the windowsill and stared out at the sea. Colman watched her, then slumped back against the settee. He looked genuinely distraught as he stared at the floor.

It occurred to Yo-han that the man was more upset about losing a friend than about murdering two people.

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The captain finally recovered. "Leopold Colman, you are under arrest for the murder of Mrs. Rachael Patton-Langdale. You will remain in a cell until we arrive in Sydney, then will be handed over to the police."

Colman shrugged. He looked up and gave Yo-han a sarcastic smile. "No cell will hold me. I'll walk off this ship and you will never stop me."

"Believe that if it gives you comfort," Yo-han said dryly.

The guards hauled Colman to his feet and marched him to the door. While it was being unlocked Colman looked back at Miss Patton. Genuine pain showed on his face, and perhaps a hint of remorse. But Yo-han was sure the only thing he truly regretted was being caught.

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Phil had never felt so numb. Not when her aunt was killed, not even when she was arrested. She left the room in a sort of daze. Máté and Mr. Seo accompanied her to her new cabin. Her old one, of course, was roped off as part of the crime scene.

Máté looked so alarmed that she wondered if he thought she was likely to harm herself. She could almost have laughed at that. Mr. Seo asked her if she wanted a cup of tea. She shook her head silently. Talking was too much effort. When they left her alone she collapsed onto the bed and replayed everything Leopold had ever said to her.

Had he been acting the whole time? He'd come to see her when she was arrested. He'd sworn he believed she was innocent. Well, of course he had. No one knew the truth better than him. He'd visited her as often as he was allowed to.

That drawing...

Phil took it out of her pocket and unfolded it. Regret, Mr. Seo had said. An apology. Was it genuine? It had to be, because who had he been trying to fool? In the end it had just incriminated him.

She wondered suddenly if he'd deliberately incriminated himself. If he'd found the one sure way of proving her innocence.

It was wishful thinking. No matter what he might say, it was impossible a murderer could truly care about anyone.

Phil traced the outline of the flowers. They were just outlines without colour. Had he meant them to be white or had he forgotten to colour them?

The drawing blurred. Phil angrily dashed the tears away. It was no use. They kept coming back. She dropped the paper, buried her face in her pillow, and cried herself to sleep.

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It was odd how everything could go back to normal so quickly. The captain had announced to the rest of the passengers that the real murderer had been caught. Apart from a few comments expressing sympathy for Miss Patton, everyone immediately seemed to forget about the whole thing. Sydney was less than a day away. The passengers unconnected with the murder were more interested in packing and exchanging their details than thinking about what had happened, especially now they knew no one else was in danger.

Some people didn't have the luxury of putting it out of their mind.

Yo-han visited Colman in his cell. He tried to find out how many murders he had committed, and how many others he could give information on. Colman — assuming that was his real name — refused to be drawn. He asked about Miss Patton, then answered all of Yo-han's questions with questions of his own.

Eventually Yo-han gave up. Colman watched him leave with a smile playing around his mouth. Yo-han couldn't shake the feeling that Colman knew something he didn't.

What was it he'd said? "No cell will hold me. I'll walk off this ship and you will never stop me." It was nothing but bravado. But just in case, Yo-han ordered that the guard outside the cell should be doubled.

He went back to his cabin. There was his notebook with the list of reasons for Colman's guilt. He'd been right about all of them.

Yo-han picked up his book and tried to read. His mind kept wandering back to Colman's words. He gave up after reading the same page five times and not understanding a word of it. He'd used all the film in his camera, he didn't feel like doing calligraphy, and he certainly wasn't hungry. For want of anything better to do he wandered up on deck.

His route took him down the corridor past the scene of the tragedy. There was Mrs. Patton-Langdale's cabin, still with a cordon over the door. There was Miss Patton's cabin, now devoid of its occupant. There was Colman's cabin, devoid of both its occupant and his belongings (which had been impounded to be handed over to the police). Tremaine's cabin was silent for once. So were the doctor's and Király's.

Yo-han walked slowly up the stairs, past the restaurant, and out onto the deck. It was late afternoon now. He spoke to Colman here yesterday about this time. Mrs. Patton-Langdale was already dead and Miss Patton's nightmare had already begun. It had been too late. He had been far too late.

On the horizon the shore was visible, a featureless line of black. No whales could be seen today. Someone was leaning on the rails anyway. For a disconcerting moment Yo-han felt as if he'd stepped back in time and was about to speak to Colman again. Then the person turned their head and he saw it was Király.

He nodded to Yo-han with more politeness than he'd ever shown before. Yo-han nodded back. He joined Király in watching the distant shore. For a while they were both silent.

Király took out his cigarette case. He offered a cigarette to Yo-han.

"No, thank you. I don't smoke."

Király lit his own and let the match fall down into the water. "I think I'll stop after this. I only started smoking because Mrs. Patton doesn't... didn't like it."

Yo-han smiled wryly. "What do you intend to do now? You're out of a job."

"I want to go home to Vi, of course. If I could I'd be on a boat leaving Australia within a day." Király looked briefly puzzled. "I still don't understand what she meant in that letter." He obviously dismissed that thought and returned to the original question. "It depends on what Miss Patton decides to do. I can't leave her here alone. I suppose she'll want her aunt buried here, and maybe she'll attend the trial. But beyond that I don't know. Don't suppose she knows herself."

In all the chaos of the last two days Yo-han had almost forgotten why he was originally going to Australia. Now that he thought of it again, the politician and the disappearing mistress seemed utterly unimportant. "I have another case waiting in Australia."

"Not another murder, I hope."

Yo-han nodded, internally debating the probabilities of the case ending in tragedy. "Not another murder, I hope."

Király finished his cigarette. He dropped it overboard too and stared down at the water for a minute. "I never would have thought it was him."

There was nothing Yo-han could think of to say that didn't sound trite.

"Do you think he really does care about her?"

Yo-han thought of the times Colman had sought out Miss Patton's company. He couldn't see anything the man had gained from that. As he had calmly admitted during their talk in the cell, Colman had decided on how to commit the murder from the minute he got his hands on a plan of the ship. Had he amused himself by deliberately befriending a young woman, knowing the whole time he was going to kill one of her closest relatives?

Yo-han had met criminals who had done similar things and derived ghastly pleasure from it. But somehow he couldn't picture Colman doing that. Those criminals had never been able to hide their true feelings for long. He remembered what he had thought of Colman's reaction to Miss Patton's arrest.

If he had been acting, he had given the performance of a lifetime.

"I don't know," he said at last. "But I don't think it matters in the end."

"Miss Patton might disagree."

Yes. Miss Patton might disagree. "It would almost be worse if he does care. Whatever the nature of his feelings, whether romantic or purely friendly, they weren't enough to make him stop."

There was little to say after that. Yo-han and Király stood together on the deck in silence and watched the shore grow darker as the sun set.