"Something happened?"
"Dead!" the fat woman gasped. "My God, I almost stepped on him!" She burst into strangling sobs.
A yellow-clad steward appeared. He couldn't see the body because of the press. "What's the trouble, sir?"
Norman stared at him. "Murder," he said in a shocked voice. "This man has been murdered. His throat's cut."
"Murder!" repeated the steward. "I'll get the captain." He scuttled off down the corridor. The fat woman went into hysterics.
"Who could have done it?" breathed Jennifer. "Why?"
Norman Saint Clair shook his head. He rose from his knees, feeling weak, shaken. He had never seen a dead man before.
"Here," said a man brusquely. "I'm a doctor. Let me see that man." He shouldered to the front, knelt beside the body. Norman Saint Clair relinquished his place with relief.
"Powerful man did that," the doctor pointed out. "Almost cut his head off."
With a gulp Norman looked away.