Belle Newberry said, “Well, I’m not going to take it easy! I think this is an outrage and an insult to Mother and to me. I demand an explanation! And I want to know what you know about my father and why you think he’s missing.”
“I’m sorry, ” the captain said, facing her, “this thing may not have been an accident. Now do you understand?”
“You mean... that...”
Mason said, “Let’s get this straight, Captain. Are you insinuating that Mr. Newberry may have committed suicide?”
The captain’s eyes met those of Perry Mason. “I mean,” he said, “that we have information leading us to believe Carl Newberry was murdered.”
Mrs. Newberry stifled a half scream. Belle moved to her mother’s side.
Mason said, “Wouldn’t it be better, Captain, if you were to concentrate your efforts on trying to find the man who has gone overboard and postpone making this unwarranted search until later?”
“I’m doing everything in my power,” the captain said. “A man doesn’t stand much chance in this sea. I have a boat in readiness, with a volunteer crew at their stations. I’m not going to risk lives needlessly. We’re going back over our course. We’ve thrown out flares and life buoys. I don’t think there’s one chance in a thousand. I’ve told the first officer what to do, and he’s doing it. This investigation I’m making here is something I have to do myself. If you people will cooperate, it’ll be easier. If you won’t cooperate, I’m going ahead anyway, Now, if you will stand over there near the porthole, I’m going to search this cabin.”
He herded them into the comer by the porthole.
Methodically, carefully, the captain and the purser opened drawers, checked the contents, looked in bags and trunks. The purser raised the mattress of one of the twin beds. The captain said, “Wait a minute, Mr. Buchanan,” thrust his arm under the mattress, and dragged out a chamois-skin money belt. It, too, was wet. The contents bulged in the closed pockets.