34 - The Queen's Jewels (22 page)

“You were just with officials investigating Kim’s murder,” I said. “Did you tell them about your suspicions regarding Yang’s death?”

“No,” she replied. “It doesn’t have anything to do with this—does it?”

“I don’t know,” I said, “but those charged with investigating what happened to Kim certainly should be made aware.”

“You can do that if you wish, Jessica.”

“I think it would be more appropriate coming from you.”

I knew that I would relay the information, of course, at the first possible moment. But it occurred to me that she’d accused Kim of murder only
after
he’d died. He was no longer able to defend himself against such a scurrilous charge. George Sutherland had questioned Betty following Yang’s murder and she hadn’t accused Kim of anything. Was it because he was still alive at that juncture? Had she really been afraid to come forward, or had she deliberately waited until he was dead to point a finger at him?

All of which led to yet another question, the most important one of all: Had Betty LeClair murdered Kim Chin-Hwa?

“I’m afraid I am tired now, Jessica,” she said, standing and stretching. “Would you mind terribly if I went to bed?”

“Of course not,” I said. “Frankly, the thought of getting into bed is appealing to me, too. I assume that you won’t be coming to the dining room for meals.”

“Mr. Haggerty wants me to take my meals in the cabin.”

“That’s good advice. Good night, Betty. I’ll check in on you in the morning.”

 

A
s fatigued as I was after returning from Betty’s suite, I had trouble falling asleep. Our conversation had taken a dramatic turn from what I’d expected and had left me with a brain that was active in every lobe, firecrackers going off one after the other. The harder I tried to shut it down, the worse it became, and it wasn’t until the sky was lightening that sleep finally put a stop to it.

My rest didn’t last long, however. The phone rang, jarring me awake at what seemed to my exhausted body to be only moments later.

“Were you sleeping?” Haggerty asked.

“Yes.”

“Sorry about that. How did it go last night with Ms. LeClair?”

“How did it go? It went—why don’t we talk about it over breakfast. Give me an hour?”

“Okay. They’ll still be serving then. What about your buddy Stanton, or whatever his name is?”

“I haven’t heard from him.”

“Give him a call and tell him to join us for breakfast.”

“I’ll call and
ask
if he wants to do that.”

“Whatever you say, Jessica.”

After showering and dressing, I put on a lightweight jacket with a hood and took a few minutes to sit on my balcony before heading for breakfast. I was still tired; I could have used a few more hours of sleep. I was also feeling out of sorts. The crossing on this lovely ship had turned into a stressful experience, becoming more so every day.

The weather was superb, a crystal clear blue sky, with abundant sunshine and a temperate breeze. The ship continued its relentless journey through the Atlantic, a luxurious and technological marvel plying the waters for six days between England and New York, where wind-powered schooners once took weeks, if not months. I looked out over the vast stretch of ocean and thought of those who’d crossed it centuries ago, brave men and women without the benefit of today’s technological marvels—sonar, radar, positioning devices, communications satellites, and all the other equipment that makes crossing oceans routine and safe. No matter where we were at that moment, I could be in touch with anyone in the world by picking up my cabin telephone, or logging on to a computer to send an e-mail. That train of thought led me to realize that I hadn’t checked my e-mail since leaving Southampton, nor had I spoken with anyone ashore.

I returned into my cabin, picked up the phone, and placed a call through the ship’s operator to George Sutherland’s cell phone. I had no idea where he was at that moment but hoped that he’d be available to take the call. He was.

“George. It’s Jessica.”

“I was hoping to hear from you,” he said. “It was on my agenda to try you later today.”

“There’s been a murder.”

“So I’ve been informed. That fellow Kim. The Yard received the news from MI6. They have an agent on the ship.”

“His name is Michael Haggerty. I knew he was going to be aboard.”

“Oh? You never said anything.”

“We go back a long way.” I explained how I knew Haggerty, and went on to tell George about Dennis Stanton and his unexpected appearance on the
Queen Mary 2
.

“It looks as though you’re up to your lovely neck in murder—again.”

“You sound like Seth Hazlitt.”

“Just a statement of facts, Jessica.”

“Unfortunately that’s true,” I said. “Listen, George, I have a question for you. You said at breakfast that one of your female officers detected the aroma of heavy perfume in the room where Mr. Yang was murdered.”

“That’s right, but it didn’t take a woman to come to that conclusion. I was aware of it, too.”

“By any chance, have your lab people identified the maker of the perfume?”

“As a matter of fact, they did. We captured an air sample, as well as a pillow on the sofa that seemed to be impregnated with the scent.”

“Do you remember the name of it?” I asked.

“I don’t have the result in front of me, but I can get it quickly. Care to hold or shall I get back to you?”

I knew that ship-to-shore phone calls were expensive, but I wasn’t about to lose him. “I’ll hold,” I said, checking my watch. I was running late for breakfast with Haggerty, and hadn’t called Dennis Stanton.

George came back on the line shortly. “I called the lab. It’s a French perfume called Shalini.” He spelled it for me. “Quite dear, as I’m told.”

“Thank you, George.”

“Why are you interested in that?”

“Just trying to tie up loose ends. When you interviewed Betty LeClair, Kim’s mistress, were you aware of that same perfume scent?”

“No, can’t say that I was. But now that I think of it, she was in the shower when we arrived. Had to sit on our hands for an hour until the lady presented herself. If she wore any scent, it was lavender soap. I take it you’ve been exposed to a stronger perfume on her person recently.”

“That’s right.”

“I understand that she was the one who discovered Kim’s body.”

“That’s what she told the authorities on board.”

“Makes her a prime suspect.”

“Along with anyone and everyone who traveled with Kim, including his two burly bodyguards.”

“And others, of course. The murderer doesn’t necessarily have to come from the passenger ranks. It could have been a crew member.”

I recounted for him what Betty LeClair had told me.

He laughed. “You’re quite the interrogator, Jessica. She never offered that scenario to me.”

I proffered my thesis that she might have waited until Kim was dead before making such a charge.

“A motive for having killed him,” he said.

“I’m thinking the same thing.”

George paused, and I could almost see his mind working. “What about the missing diamond?” he asked.

“No sign of it. Ms. LeClair says she’s never seen it. There are a couple of interesting women on board, George, a Jennifer Kahn and Kiki Largent.”

“Ah, that’s where Jennifer Kahn is,” he said, excitement evident in his voice.

“So you’ve heard of her.”

“Every law enforcement agency has heard of her, Jessica. She’s reputed to have been involved in jewelry thefts around the globe, although no one has ever come up with even a modicum of evidence to link her to those thefts. We’re working on the assumption that she was behind the three London jewelry store heists last week. We had her under surveillance, but she slipped away from us. I’ll say this for Jennifer Kahn. She’s as elusive and clever a thief as I’ve ever seen.”

“Is she capable of murder, George?”

“She’s never been linked to one. Are you thinking of Kim’s murder?”

“And Walter Yang.”

“You say that this Agent Haggerty is taking an active part in the investigation.”

“Yes, and Dennis Stanton will undoubtedly play a role, but for a much different reason.”

“All I can say, Jessica, is that I’m relieved that you have two good men there alongside you. You could be in jeopardy. I don’t like to think about that.”

“I’ll be careful, George. Where are you now?” I asked.

“At Scotland Yard.”

“Can I reach you again later?”

“Always on my trusty cell. You will take care?”

“Yes, of course. Thanks for the information. I—I really miss seeing and talking to you at a time like this.”

He laughed. “
Only
at a time like this?”

“You know what I mean. I always miss seeing you, George, but murder raises the stakes.”

When our conversation ended, I dialed Stanton’s cabin, got no answer, so set off for the Princess Grill. I wondered whether Jennifer and Kiki would be there. Had they become aware of Haggerty’s real name and true mission? If they hadn’t, they would soon enough, I was sure. Too many people knew now, and the
Queen Mary
’s rumor mill was every bit as active as Cabot Cove’s. It would be interesting to see their reaction when they did find out.

Haggerty and Stanton were together at the table when I arrived.

“Thought you’d forgotten us,” Haggerty said.

“Sorry to be late,” I said, folding my jacket over the arm of the chair. “I was on the phone with a friend in London. Have any of the others been here?”

“Flynn was finishing up breakfast when I arrived. He left.”

“What about Jennifer and Kiki?”

Haggerty and Stanton looked at each other before Haggerty said, “Haven’t seen them. Dennis—or rather ‘Bill’—here informs me that he’s the one who told you about Jennifer’s reputation as an international jewel thief.” He laughed. “Didn’t come as a big surprise when you told me, Jessica. I’d had my suspicions all along that something wasn’t quite right about her.”

I was successful in suppressing a smile; the male ego at play, his need to save face.

I related my conversation with Betty LeClair and her accusation that Kim Chin-Hwa might have murdered Walter Yang and stolen the Heart of India.

“Why didn’t she tell
us
that when we questioned her?” Haggerty asked.

“I don’t have an answer for that,” I said, “unless she felt having me pass it along would carry more weight with you.”

“Why would it?” Haggerty asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, “just a supposition. I can’t help but wonder whether she’s pointing a finger at him to deflect attention from herself.”

Haggerty grunted.

“Do Jennifer and Kiki know who you really are and why you’re on the ship?” I asked him.

“I didn’t tell them,” he said.

“They’re bound to find out,” I said.

“I’m sure you’re right.”

“But there’s no reason for them to learn the truth about you, Dennis,” I said.

He nodded. “And I’m not ready to divulge that information just yet. Let’s keep it just amongst us, shall we?”

“It gives you an edge with them,” I added.

“Precisely.”

“Well?” I said to Haggerty. “Now that you’re in charge of the investigation, what’s your next move?”

“We’ve got Kim’s two bodyguards in temporary custody. I’m meeting them, separately of course, in an hour. Feel free to join me.”

“I’d like to sit in on that,” Stanton said.

Haggerty shook his head. “It’s better that you stay away from the investigation, at least officially. I think that—”

The arrival of Jennifer and Kiki brought a halt to our conversation.

“Late start?” Stanton said pleasantly. “They’re about to stop serving.”

“I’d better put in my order,” I said. To Jennifer: “A late start for me, too.”

If they’d been made aware of Haggerty and his true identity, they said or did nothing to indicate it. Haggerty excused himself without saying where he was going. When he was gone, Jennifer asked whether I had another lecture to give.

“Tonight,” I said as the waiter came to the table and took our orders. “I’m glad you reminded me. I’d almost forgotten. It wouldn’t do to have an auditorium full of people and no speaker.”

“Is there anything new about Mr. Kim?” Jennifer asked.

“Not that I know of,” I said, comfortable in feigning ignorance.

“I feel sorry for his girlfriend,” Jennifer said. “Imagine, expecting to have a tryst with your lover, and instead discovering his body.”

I agreed.

“Where is she, by the way? Did she come in for breakfast?”

“I haven’t seen her,” Dennis put in.

“I’ve heard that they’ve moved her to another stateroom,” I said.

“Can’t blame her for not wanting to stay where she was,” Jennifer said. “Gives me the creeps, thinking there might be a murderer on board. It had to have been someone in the victim’s party, those two goons traveling with him, or his girlfriend.”

Her comment about the “two goons” triggered a thought. If they traveled with Kim as his bodyguards, why was he alone at night on an open deck? Had his bodyguards deliberately left him alone at that fateful moment to allow his killer to strike? I thought back to Walter Yang’s murder, in which the alarm system had been conveniently deactivated.

“I suggest that we put all thoughts of death behind us,” Stanton said with enthusiasm. “We only have a couple of days until we reach New York and I intend to enjoy every minute. Would you ladies like to join me for a brisk walk around the deck, work off breakfast?”

“Not me,” Kiki said. She said to Jennifer: “See you later.”

“She certainly doesn’t say much, does she?” Stanton quipped to Jennifer when Kiki walked away from the table.