1 Shore Excursion (21 page)

L
ooking for Jay, I searched the Rapture’s public areas, literally from stem to stern and from the Sun Deck to
B Deck
.

No Jay.

I asked around among the High Steppers, but no one had seen him since the bus returned from Tivoli just before the ship sailed.

“
A
re you sure he came back with the bus?”
I asked Fred Johnson.

“Oh, yes,” Fred nodded, “though he was acting pretty strange, I thought, even for him.
He was rather subdued, sort of distracted. Maxine and I both remarked on it.”

“Did you notice where he went after you came aboard?”

“No.
We were almost the last to board.
We rode up in the elevator with him, but we got off on Promenade Deck.
Jay said good night and continued on up in the
elevator. I don’t know where he went after that.
Is something amiss?”

“Oh, no. No.
Nothing’s wrong.
I haven’t seen him this morning, that’s all.”

“He’s probably sleeping.
He had quite a bit to drink, Miss Marsh.”

“Oh.”

Well then.
That explain
ed
a lot.

“I am meeting Maxine for lunch in a few minutes,” Fred continued, “Will you join us?”

“No
thanks, Dr. Johnson.
I’d love to, but I’d better see if I can find Jay right now.
Perhaps tomorrow.”

I found Edgar, the ship’s concert pianist, in the Starlight Lounge, practicing for his evening performance.

He was playing Chopin’s Military Polonaise, his favorite, and I sat in the back of the darkened room until he finished, not wanting to interrupt, enjoying his music.

Edgar trained at Juilliard and for a while he was on the concert stage.
He never achieved stardom, however, only moderate success.
He
had been
almost ready to give up and find another way to earn his living, when a chance meeting with an old friend in Miami resulted in a contract with a cruise line.

Now, twenty years later, his piano has taken him around the world.
He is tall, balding, and British, with a great handlebar mustache.
He is also a very funny man, and he does a sort of comedy concert show on some nights and serious classical recitals on alternate afternoons.
He practices everyday for four hours, mostly, he says, to keep his fingers limber.

“Bravo, bravo, maestro, bravo!” I said, clapping as he finished.

Edgar turned and peered into the dimness of the cavernous room.
“Ah, there you are, my dear Sidney.
My audience of one. How nice.
Thank you.
Come closer, please, I am ready for a break.
Tell me, are you here for a reason?
Is it my superb playing, my mastery of the keys?
Or is it that you just couldn’t wait until dinner to see me again?”

For the last couple of nights I had been dining at Edgar’s table, having bailed earlier in the week on Murphy and Company.

“Both.
Your music is magnificent, of course, but I did want to ask you something.”

“Fire away, then, dear girl.
I am putty in your hands.
Do you want to ask how thrilling it would be to sleep with an elderly British concert pianist?
No? Well. What then?”

“Edgar, it’s Jay.
I don’t know where he is, I can’t find him anywhere in the public areas, and no one has seen him at all today.
He got pretty smashed last night, I’m told, so he may just be holed up somewhere, holding his head.
Or he may be hiding, pouting because of a little
disagreement
that
we
had, which was, I’ll admit, my fault. He moved out of my cabin in a snit, and I don’t know where he went.
I wouldn’t worry, but as you well know, some funny things are happening on this ship.
Have you seen him?”

“Indeed I have, my darling, you should have come to old Edgar first thing and not wasted time running about.
I wasn’t supposed to tell you this, but I shall. I shared the hair of the dog with Jay not two hours ago on his balcony.”

“His
balcony
!
What do you mean, Edgar?
B Deck doesn’t have balconies.”

“No, dearest, but the Neptune Suite does, and that’s where our boy is ensconced.
In fine style, I must say.”

“The Neptune Suite!
He’s in the Neptune Suite?
How in the world did he manage that?”
I thought for a moment. “Oh, my God, he didn’t break in, did he?”

Edgar shook his head and laughed, “No, no, no, no.
He is there quite legally.
By invitation.
How he managed it, I can’t say.
You’ll have to ask him.”

He turned back to the keyboard as I thanked him and left, calling out to me over his shoulder,
“Think nothing of it, love, but mind you, I shall demand a full report at dinner tonight
.
You will
undoubtedly
want to share
a bottle of port.”

I rang the doorbell of the Neptune Suite
,
calling out “Room Service” in my best Spanish accent.
No answer. I rang the bell again.

“Room Service for Meester Weelson.”

I heard steps approaching the door, stopping as he peered out though the peephole.
Not that it did him any good, because my finger was over it.

I rang the bell again and curiosity got him. I knew it would.

He jerked the door open and stuck his head out
. W
hen he saw me
,
he
tried to slam the door, but I was too quick for him.
I
had slipped
inside.

“Beat it.
Scram.
Go away, Sidney, please leave.
I have nothing to say to you.”

“Well, I have something to say to you, Jay Wilson, if you’ll let me into the pity party for just one minute. I came to say that I was wrong to treat you the way I did, and I’m sorry.
So there.
I apologize.
Now will you forgive me?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe.
It depends. But first you’ve got to tell me who you really went to Tivoli with last night, Sid. I know it wasn’t Chet, because I saw him leave the ship when we did, in a cab by himself.
So who were you with?
Don’t lie.
I can tell when you lie.”

So I told him all
about
my
ridiculous dinner dates
, down to the last detail
, ending with the horror at the carousel. I didn’t mention that I thought I had
recogniz
ed
the
murdered
man, or about my nocturnal tormenter.
I was still trying to decide whether to tell him about
that
or not.
By the time I had finished, he wasn’t mad at me anymore, just preachy.

“Sidney Lanier
Marsh
, Chet doesn’t matter
—
he’s just a fluffball
—
but
I hope someday
you learn
to avoid
sketchy guys like
Fernando
and Vargos.
Now here you are
, playing
around with
both those bad boys. Tell me, though,
I can keep a secret,
which one is better?”

It took all of my will to control my temper after that
cheap
shot, but I managed it, probably because deep down I knew I had it coming.
“
When I find out, Jay, you’ll be the first to know.
Ok
ay
,
my friend
, we’re even. Actually, you win.
You always win, don’t you? Truce?”

He smiled and nodded slowly.
“I guess so, Sidney. I never have been able to stay in a fight with you for long, have I?
Come
, relax and I’ll get you
a drink.
Welcome to the Neptune Suite!”

I sat on a pale blue silk loveseat beside a marble table supported by gold dolphins and Jay poured two glasses of Dom from a bottle chilling in a silver cooler.
He was wearing a silk robe
embroidered
with
the words “
Neptune Suite
”
and a little trident on the pocket.

He might
have
appeared
very impressive
,
except that his huge hairy legs sticking out from the bottom of the robe spoiled the effect.

He handed me a
glass
, clinked it with his, and I knew I’d really won, though he wouldn’t make it easy.
I’d still have to
grovel
a little to be totally back on his good list.

“How do you like my suite, by the way?
Nice, isn’t it?
Although
t
he gold seahorse faucets in the Jacuzzi
are a bit much.
”

I looked around the room, taking it all i
n
, thinking it all over.

“Would you like to move in?” he said. “There’s plenty of room
.

“Jay,” I demanded, “What are you doing in this suite?
I want the truth.
How did you get here?”

He didn’t say anything,
wouldn’t
even
look at me.

Then I knew.

“You caved, didn’t you
? You
told them
that
it was all
fine, that you
had changed your mind and
would back
up whatever version they wanted to spin about Ruth and Al and eve
rything
. I
n exchange, you got the Neptune Suite.
”

I headed for the door. He still hadn’t said anything, wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“No, Jay, I’m not moving in,” I said as I
started to back away.
“
I couldn’t sleep one wink in this
place,
knowing
that
I had
totally
copped out for
the sake of
gold faucets and a Jacuzzi.
”

V
inny, one of the assistant pursers, shook his head firmly at my request.

“No can do, Sidney
. No way. I can’t give you a key to Mr. Bostick’s cabin or a copy of the passenger/crew manifest without authorization.”

“But, Vinny,” I lied, “Captain Vargos
said he
wants me to have both those items so I can help him figure out how to keep the High Steppers safe. After all, I am the tour leader.
He wants me to have those things.
He said so.”

“
Weak, Sidney, weak. Think I’m buying that?
Not even if Santa Claus says so. Empress would have my job if they found out.
They just released Bostick’s cabin today and it
stays locked until it can be
cleaned out and his stuff packed up
. I can’t
let anyone in there.
”

“Well, they won’t find out
you did
unless you tell them, Vinny, because I sure won’t.”

“Sorry, Sidney
, I can’t do that.
Not even for you.
I couldn’t
even
do that for the President.”

I turned to leave, then realized that Vinny was still standing there with an expectant look on his face.

The light bulb went off
.

“Vinny, what if President Abraham Lincoln said to give it to me?”

“No, ma’am.
Not for President Lincoln.
Not even for President Andrew Jackson.
But President Grant, now, old Grant might be a different story.
He’s powerful, Grant is.
He swings a lot of weight.
Old Grant’s a
n
influential man.”

I grimaced, considering my dwindling bank account.

Vinny was driving a hard bargain, but I really
wanted
that key and the manifest.

“O
kay
, Vinny.
An envelope will be
left with Satish
for you at the bar in the Moonbeam Room
. By
the end of your shift, say about
six-thirty
.
O
kay
?”

“Ok
ay
, Sidney
, and them items you was interested in will be under your cabin door after first seating. Pleasure doing business with you, but keep it zipped, understand?”

My new plan of action was to stop drifting along
,
hoping
that
everything would be all right
,
and make some careful but concrete moves toward finding the killer. I needed
real
information and the facts I knew
were pretty thin.

Sometime during the night I had realized
that if at all possible
I
must
search Mr. Bostick’s cabin for Ruth’s bag and any other clues on the off chance that Empress hadn’t already had it sanitized. The key
would
make that possible.

We had missed our chance to check out Ruth’s cabin
after she was found
.
W
e were so shocked and stunned by her death that it didn’t occur to us
until a day or two later
to attempt
a
search
. By then,
it had already been cleaned and refitted.

The purser had sealed Mr. Bostick’s cabin when his death was discovered and until the official seals were removed, no one could enter it
. T
he hour after dinner, during the show, would be
our
first opportunity for a quick look.

I
bought
the
copy of the
manifest to check out exactly
who
was on this ship. Somewhere in the hundreds of names there might be a clue, some connection to the High Steppers.
It was a long shot, for sure,
with all those names
,
but it was all I could think to do, and I
might
get lucky.
I not only wanted to
try
and
identify the supposedly murderous Chilean deckhand
and the dancer
, but
any
other
“persons
of interest” as well.
One of the bartenders told that me
that
the
deckhand was a
guy name
d
Raoul, from Santiago, and that the dancer’s name was
Esmeralda
.

I had not brought
my
laptop
on the cruise
, but t
here
a
re
computer
s
for passenger use
in an annex
off
the
ship’s
library, and if I found any interesting names and addresses, I could do a search that might yield a hit.
Or maybe an
I
nternet café in Stockholm would be more private, and therefore safer. I would have to think about that one
, but first, I needed the manifest
.

The computer room
s
on
s
hip
s
are
always filled with seniors.
They love writing letters on the Internet, mostly complaining about stuff to their congressmen, I think.
Or maybe telling the President how to run the country.
They like to share their thoughts
out loud
with anyone available to listen, too, so the computer room is never really private.

Yes,
it was time for some digging
, and as soon as possible.

I didn’t know who all the players were in this deadly game that was unfolding, or how they all fit together.
But some of
picture
was becoming clearer.

In the wee hours of the night, I
had
finally realized the identity of the mysterious deckhand who
on that first night out of Harwich
had bumped into me on the rainy deck and warned me of danger. I knew
him by sight
,
I
just didn’t know his name.

I had
last
seen him at Tivoli,
taking one final
ride on a carousel.

Brooke was sipping from a tall frosted glass of Pel
l
egrino with a thin slice of lemon when I finally found her at a quiet corner table in the Crystal Dining Room.
It was fairly late, almost 1:30, and most of the herd had already finished lunch and gone to bingo.

“Hi,” I said, sliding into my chair. “Hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“Oh, no,” she replied, “I just got here myself.
I never lunch early, you know.
I’ve ordered the Brown Derby Cobb Salad, and here is Alberto to take your order.”

Alberto approached the table and handed me a menu.
I chose iced tea with
lemon and
mint, and the European Toast
—
a delicious sandwich of cheese, tomatoes and olive on a crunchy toasted bread
—
served with a side salad of arugula, bibb lettuce, pears, and walnuts.

Moheet, the busboy, brought my tea.

Brooke laughed.
“Do Southern women have iced
tea in their veins?”
she said.
“Well, Sidney, where’s Jay?
Did you find him?”

“Forget Jay, Brooke. Jay has completely lost his mind
. H
e’s gone
as
crazy as a shot rat, and there’s really no hope for him this time until we can get him back to New York and into therapy.

“We can’t count on him for any help whatsoever,” I continued, buttering a roll, “He’s out of it. Trust me on that. But what about you, Brooke?
Did you find out anything useful?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “Yes, I did. First I went to the perfume seminar.
That was
amusing, but
I didn’t learn anything new.
”

She ticked off her results on her long, slender, fingers.
“Then
I played bridge for a while with Marjorie Levy and Chet and Fred Johnson.
Still nothing.
But then I went to the beauty salon for a manicure, and Sylvia Klein was there having her roots done.
She didn’t notice my arrival.
She was too intent on telling Monique, the hairdresser, and anyone else who cared to listen, her plans for leaving Abe and the ship in Stockholm.”

“What?” I said, leaning forward, “Leaving the ship? No kidding?
Did she say why?”

“Oh, yes,”
Brooke nodded, “At length, but I couldn’t hear all of it because Gladys Murphy, who was having a shampoo and set, started talking just then in a loud voice about the shopping in Stockholm, so I didn’t get all of Sylvia’s plans. Sylvia had obviously
been
talking for some time before I came in, too, mostly about how Abe had mistreated her.
But I heard enough, I think.”

“Well, out with it, what did she say?”

Alberto arrived at that moment with our lunch, and Brooke’s blue eyes sparkled with delight at the enforced delay in her narrative.
She knew how eager I was for her answer.

When Alberto had finally finished fiddling around with the table and departed for the kitchen, Brooke continued,
“Sylvia
said, ‘I’m thinking about leaving old Abe when we get to Stockholm, so I want the works, Monique, while he’s still paying for it.’

“
Then Monique said, ‘Leaving him, how will you leave this bad man?
Where will you go?
What will you do?’

“
Sylvia replied, ‘I’ve got ways, and I’ve got friends, and I’ve just abo
ut got it worked out, too.
Abe and his
pals
can kiss my ass
.
Last night was the coo
p
de grease’
—I think she meant
coup de grâce
.
‘
I’m sick to death of the whole thing
and Abe, too
, but before I leave this ship, you better believe I’m headed straight to the bo
utique
to see how much more damage I can do to his charge account.’

“
‘What if he tries to stop you,’ Monique said, ‘what if he won’t let you go?’

“
Sylvia laughed and said that he better not try to stop her, that she knew too much. ‘He better keep me happy and he knows
it,
I’ve got insurance
’ she said.
There was more, but I couldn’t
hear the rest because of Gladys and the hairdryer.”

Brooke laughed, “Perhaps you could ask Sylvia about her plans tonight at dinner, in your official capacity, Sidney.
After all, you need to know if a member of your group is leaving early, don’t you?”

“Yes, certainly,” I said, “but what about Abe? Do you think from what you heard that he is leaving too?”

“I don’t know.
That dreadful Murphy woman’s voice simply drowned out everything else that Sylvia said, almost as if she meant to; but of course, Gladys was just being her usual charming self.
Anyway, by the time Gladys finally stopped talking, my manicure was finished and Sylvia was under the dryer, so I left.”

Alberto appeared with coffee and the dessert menus.
He also brought a thick, white envelope, embossed with the ship’s insignia.

I stared at it, recognizing the handwriting.

“Well, aren’t you going to open it?”
Brooke said.

I broke the seal and read the short note inside, scrawled in slashes of bold, black ink.

Dear Miss Marsh,

Your presence is requested immediately on the bridge.

—
Stephanos Vargos

Master
,
m/s Rapture of the Deep.

“It seems I’m bein
g summoned,” I said,
finishing my coffee and pushing back my chair.

I took a deep breath.

“This should be interesting.”