The Green Glow of Death - A short story by Stanley G. Weinbaum.
The Green Glow of Death Excerpt:
The excitement of sailing left him indifferent from long experience, so he sought out the passenger list. A Miss Arlene Lowell was listed, true enough; her stateroom was on the same side as his, and the third door away, which was doubtless Gordon’s doing. Simon’s had ample influence to encompass such matters.
And Gordon’s hand appeared again at luncheon. Bill found himself at the table with the chief engineer, a tall gaunt Scot named McKittric, but five minutes after the commencement of the meal he was staring into a pair of cool laughing, violet eyes, and listening nonplussed to McKittric’s gruff introduction of Miss Lowell.
Back on deck in the afternoon, he scowled inwardly over his thoughts. Insurance is a queer proposition; people otherwise strictly honest will often cheat an insurance company without a qualm. Any sort of insurance; you dent a fender and have the whole car overhauled. In Bill’s line one had to suspect anybody, but he growled to himself that there were common sense limitations to any general thesis, and if there were any crooked work in this proposition, one thing he’d swear to was that Arlene Lowell wasn’t in it.