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Masefield knew that she could cross his name off the list of possible suspects. Whoever had stolen the money and jewelry from Mabel Prendergast’s cabin, it was most certainly not this young man. During dinner on the previous evening, it had been impossible to have a proper conversation with him, especially with Lilian Cathcart sitting between them, so Genevieve was pleased to bump into him when she took a stroll around the deck. Pountney displayed a row of perfect teeth and politely touched his hat. After exchanging a few remarks about the weather with him, she asked him where he had been when the ship set sail.
    “Up here on deck, of course,” he replied. “Weren’t you, Miss Masefield?”
    “Yes, Mr. Pountney.”
    “It’s always a unique moment. I never miss it.”
    “Nor me.”
    “The only problem was that I had to share it with that gloomy German.”
    “Herr Lenz?”
    “That’s right. He stood beside me and had the gall to tell me that German liners were superior to any built in our shipyards. Apparently, he was commissioned to photograph ships from the Hamburg-Amerika Line so he feels that he’s an expert on maritime travel.”
    “He hardly said a word to me all evening.”
    “When we stood at the rail, I couldn’t stop him talking.”
    “Perhaps he’s shy in female company.”
    “Oh, I don’t think that’s the case,” said Pountney, “I had the feeling he revels in it. Herr Lenz is one of those strong, silent, watchful types. He seemed to be enchanted by the lady beside you.”
    “Mrs. Cathcart? Yes, she managed to attract a lot of attention.”
    His eyes twinkled. “So did you, Miss Masefield.”
    Genevieve acknowledged the compliment with a smile. Roland Pountney was an affable young man with an air of quiet prosperity about him. Everyone promenading on the first-class decks was well dressed, but Pountney was immaculate in his overcoat and hat. Even his black leather gloves were of exceptional quality. Clearly, he was not the man who had broken into Mrs. Prendergast’s cabin. When the ship left Tilbury, he had stayed on deck for some time.
    “You said last night that you were traveling on business,” she recalled.
    “In the world of finance, alas, one always travels on business.”
    “And you’re going to Egypt?”
    “First of all,” he said. “I don’t believe in buying a pig in a poke. I like to see where my money is going. I’m investing rather a lot of it in a project in Cairo.”
    “It’s very sensible of you to carry out an inspection, Mr. Pountney.”
    “It doesn’t pay to be too trusting, Miss Masefield, especially where foreigners are concerned. Not that I have any prejudices against them, mark you,” he added. “Most of my investments have been abroad. That’s why I’ve prospered so much.”
    “I’m glad to hear it.”
    “The world is my oyster.” He laughed softly. “I’m a seeker after pearls. But tell me a little about Mrs. Cathcart, if you will, please.”
    “Myra? Why?”
    “Because she sounded like an interesting lady. I only caught snatches of what she was saying but she had far more life about her than that daughter of hers.”
    “Lilian is inclined to be reticent.”
    “It’s not a problem that troubles her mother. Mrs. Cathcart talked and laughed her way through the entire meal. I could see the effect she was having on the two men opposite. The Americangentleman was entranced with her,” Mr. Pountney said.
    “His name is Walter Dugdale.”
    “He was even more taken with the lady than Herr Lenz. I know that it’s very early to make such a judgment, but I think your friend may have made a conquest—if not two of them.”
    “Hardly!” said Genevieve. “That’s the first time she’s met either of them. Myra Cathcart might be amused at the notion that she’d caught Mr. Dugdale’s eye but I doubt if she’d be pleased to hear that Herr Lenz had taken an interest in her. She made an impression on both of them, I grant you, but that’s as