Claire Gulliver #04 - Cruisin' for a Bruisin' (28 page)

Richard was standing at the rail near one of the beams supporting the deck above him. He was leaning over the side slightly, as if looking at something in the water. Suddenly Millie darted forward and snatched a white object from his hand just as his hand opened to let it drop into the water.

“Richard! What are you doing? Don’t you know plastic bags kill porpoises?” Millie’s voice was full of horror as she backed away from him clutching the plastic bag protectively against her breast.

Richard actually jumped when Millie’s hand snaked out and grabbed the bag in midair, right before his eyes. He turned his head and his surprised expression turned to fury. Then he lunged, both arms outstretched to grab Millie. Claire acted without thinking, stepping instinctively between her mother and Richard.

Richard’s strength, fueled by his anger, was more than she expected. They danced awkwardly together as Claire tried valiantly to hold him back, but was soon flung unceremoniously onto the deck chairs lined up along deck opposite the railing.

“Give me that!” Richard snarled, lunging again, but this time it was Ian who stopped him.

“Easy, man. Let’s not kill the messenger.” Ian held Richard tightly, not bothered at all by his desperate struggles. “Get a hold of yourself, man. Millie and Claire just wanted to tell you themselves rather than have you hear the news from strangers. And now look what you’ve done. I hope you haven’t hurt Claire.”

Millie rushed to her daughter, as Claire struggled to her feet, gingerly extracting her limbs from the tangle of deck chairs. She was shocked and embarrassed at how ineffectual her effort was in protecting her mother, and she was confused by Richard’s fury.

“Claire, are you hurt?”

“No, I don’t think so, Mom. Maybe a few bruises, but nothing serious.” Already she was on her feet and more interested in what was happening between Richard and Ian.

Richard started to calm down as Ian’s words seemed to penetrate his brain. “What are you talking about?” he finally asked.

“Your aunt. They came to tell you that your aunt passed away this evening.”

Richard shook his head as if to clear his hearing. “What are you talking about?” he repeated.

“Richard,” Millie said gently from where she stood near Claire, “your aunt died this evening. Claire and Ian found her when they stopped by to see if she needed anything.”

Richard’s head swiveled from Ian to Claire. “My God, Auntie is dead? I’ve got to go...,” he headed for the door. Then he stopped, half turned back. “My garbage...” he said looking at the bag which now lay on the deck where Millie had dropped it before going to Claire’s aid.

Millie waved him on. “Go. Don’t worry. I’ll find a trash can and dispose of it where it won’t endanger any porpoises.”

He looked at her a moment, clearly undecided, then making up his mind, he nodded and left.

“Whew, thank goodness you followed us out here, Ian. I don’t know what he was thinking. Surely he couldn’t have forgotten all the warnings from the wildlife experts about how dangerous plastic bags are to porpoises. And he got so mad when I grabbed it, like a boy who lost his favorite toy.” Millie went over and picked up the bag, looking around for a trash can.

Claire, picking up the contents of her tote bag, which had spilled out in the melee, said over her shoulder. “Here, Mom, give it to me. I’ll throw it away for you.” She took the plastic bag and shoved it in her tote to deal with later.

“Ladies, shall we get out of the cold?” Ian said gallantly as he ushered them towards the door.

Claire realized how chilled she was. She couldn’t stop shivering. Her mother noticed. “Claire, we need to get you warmed up. It’s the shock from getting pushed over, I imagine. You could use a cup of tea, or hot chocolate.”

“Chocolate? Funny you should mention that.” Ruth caught the last word of Millie’s sentence as they joined the group again. “The Chocolate Decadence Midnight Buffet just opened. I think we should take a look before bedtime, don’t you?”

Claire had heard about the nightly buffets, but had yet to see one. They never finished dinner until ten and then she was too full to even think of more food. But the thought of hot chocolate was very tempting. She agreed tonight might be just the night to check it out.

Ian and Sean were happy to escort the three ladies to the dining room where the chocolate extravaganza was laid out. They found a table and sat tasting plates of chocolate goodies while Claire sipped her hot chocolate, and they all discussed the irony of Mrs. Bernbaum’s passing. They were shocked and grieved, but philosophical. Everyone but Claire was of an age where they were experiencing an increasing number of deaths among their friends and colleagues. It had to be accepted. There was no alternative.

Sean said it best. “I’m sorry it happened so suddenly and that Claire and Ian had the shock of finding her. But I’m so glad it was after she had the satisfaction of completing her life quest. She was quite a gal and a great addition to our table.”

The others nodded solemnly and Ian said quietly, “That she was.”

The hot chocolate was working. Claire no longer felt cold. Now she just felt very sleepy. She caught Ian’s surreptitious glance her way as if he was checking on her. She noticed how he was sticking close to her. Perhaps he was worried about what she might say if he wasn’t close enough to keep tabs on her. Actually, it was lucky he had been following her, because his arrival on deck when Richard was being so irrational proved to be provident. She hadn’t thought of Richard as a violent man, but she didn’t want to let him get his hands on her mother. He had been way too angry for some reason she didn’t understand.

“Dear, maybe you should go down to bed.”

“Yes, mother.” Always the obedient little girl, Claire now was happy to follow her mother’s suggestion and quickly headed for the elevator. This time she noticed that Ian didn’t follow her.

The knock was muffled so as to not disturb the neighboring cabins, but the quick rat-a-tat-tat conveyed his urgency. He had to repeat it several times and just when he decided to go to his cabin and call her, the door opened.

“It’s the middle of the night, are you crazy?” She didn’t sound very welcoming, but he entered her cabin and trudged over and sat on the edge of her bed, his shoulders slumped with depression.

She turned on the light, then seemed to notice how he looked.

“What’s wrong? Why are you here so late?” she queried, acting a little warmer.

“Shit, everything’s wrong. And I’m here so late because I just got through with all the paperwork.”

“What happened?” Her concern was mounting; he was always confident, in charge. She didn’t know him acting like this.

“First I decided I’d better get rid of the syringe and bottle. You kept talking about evidence and I started to worry about what would happen if someone found it. You know, in case someone searched; in case someone became suspicious. So I decided to just dump it overboard. I thought that would be the safest way to get rid of it. Well, it wasn’t. I went out on deck and found a secluded place. I had it over the side. I let it go.” He looked at her with disbelief. “And Millie Gulliver just appeared out of nowhere and snatched it out of midair. I was so shocked I just stood there while she went on and on about how plastic kills the porpoises, or some such drivel.

“Then I just lost it. I got so mad, I swear, I would have dumped the sanctimonious old biddy over the side with the bag she was holding if her prissy daughter hadn’t gotten in my way.”

Kim was bending toward him, breathlessly waiting to hear what happened next.

“She’s stronger than she looks and it was hard to shove her out of my way. But then before I could even get to Millie, Ian showed up. Do you remember, I pointed him out to you? He’s one of the guys at our table, and he’s big, and man, he’s strong, even if he is old. He just held on to me and I was really struggling. I was so mad, you see. Anyway, I finally calmed down enough to hear what he was saying. It seems that he and Claire had stopped by to see my aunt and found her dead. Of all the rotten luck!

“I had to pretend I was shocked. Actually, I was shocked because I expected Jorges, Auntie’s steward, to find her in the morning when he delivered her breakfast.

“And of course that’s what would have happened if that nosy Claire hadn’t interfered.” He took a deep breath, then another in an attempt to calm himself.

“Well anyway, I had to play the part of the grieving nephew and go down to security and then the morgue. The doctor had a million questions for me, but I don’t think she has any suspicions.”

“What happened to the stuff you were throwing overboard?” Kim really was a sharp woman. She kept her mind on the issues that were important.

He shrugged. “I had to leave it there. Millie said she would throw it in a trash receptacle where it wouldn’t hurt the porpoises.” He said the last words in a prissy tone, as if imitating Millie. “I just hope she did,” he said grimly. “And I hope she didn’t poke her nose into the bag to check what was in it before throwing it away.”

“So it’s still here, on board the ship?”

He nodded. “They hold all the trash until they reach port and then off-load it. If anyone wanted to search, they could find it.”

“Hell. That meddling old bitch. You should have pitched her overboard,” Kim told him, and she acted as if she meant it.

“What are you going to do now?”

“Somehow I need to get that bag back, or at least find out if she saw what was in it before she dumped it.”

“And if she did see what it was?”

“Then, I think, Kim, we’ll just have to see that Millie has a tragic accident and disappears.”

After breakfast, Claire, Millie and Ruth all went by the library to pick up the little news sheet, a brief recap of world events and the
New York Times
crossword puzzle. They sat for a while working the puzzle before Claire decided to give up on hers. “I’m going down to do my emails and I’ll meet you both later at Bingo. Save me a seat.” The ladies nodded distractedly. Both were intent on the last few clues.

The computer room was empty this morning, so Claire selected a computer near the back, overlooking the water. It amused her that the room was situated on the side of the ship along a great expanse of windows. It was as if the cruise line didn’t want anyone to forget for one minute they were at sea.

She sat down carefully on the little chair, remembering painfully, the bruise she had discovered in the shower this morning thanks to her collision with the deck chairs last night. She didn’t bother to mention it to her mother, thinking it was best just to forget the whole incident. She was surprised at the number of accumulated messages she had in spite of the fact she had responded to all she had pending only yesterday. It seemed that her promptness only spurred more messages. She finally arrived at the one she was waiting for from Mrs. B, her assistant manager at the shop. There had been a question about a big order that came in and she had asked Mrs. B to check some figures for her. And here they were. She looked around the work station for a pen with no success. She picked up her tote bag from the floor near her feet to get the one she carried with her and found the bag of trash Richard had tried to dump overboard. She had completely forgotten about it. She pulled it out of her tote bag meaning to toss it in the trash as she had promised. But she couldn’t help wondering what it was he so urgently had to discard that he selected the ocean rather than search for a trash barrel.

Naturally she opened the bag to look inside. She put her hand in to move some paper out of the way. “Ouch. Damn.” She withdrew her hand quickly and after close examination of her finger concluded the skin hadn’t been broken. She shook the bag a bit, so now she could see it contained a syringe and a small bottle. No wonder he didn’t want to throw it in a trash can, someone could jab themselves with the syringe. She studied the bottle’s label intently, wondering if it was the vitamin cocktail he used on Mrs. Bernbaum. Since she was sitting in front of a computer she clicked on a search engine and simply typed in the name on the label. She studied the choices and selected one which offered an encyclopedia of medical information.

“Potassium Chloride, Uses,”
she read. “P
otassium chloride
is used for making
fertilizer
by stimulating growth. It is used as a chemical feedstock for the manufacture of
potassium hydroxide
and
potassium
metal. It is also used in
medicine
,
scientific
applications,
food processing
and in
judicial
execution
through
lethal injection
.”

Judicial execution!
She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stiffen. Lethal injection? She held her finger up and looked at it again. She was assured once again that the skin had not been broken. It seemed likely the syringe and the bottle were together in the bag because the syringe had contained the contents of the bottle and she certainly didn’t want something used for lethal injections inadvertently poked in her finger. Her heart began to race as that last thought,
something used for lethal injections,
replayed itself loudly in her mind. Could that be the reason why Richard was trying to dump these items overboard?

Suddenly it was hard to catch her breath. She forced herself to remain seated, to be calm and think about this. She told herself she was jumping to conclusions. She was acting as if life was like a
CSI
episode on television. She breathed deeply in and out, forcing herself to calm down.

She reminded herself how much Mrs. Bernbaum loved Richard. And it was obvious to all of them that he doted on his aunt. So why did she immediately think the worse when she saw those words on the computer? That’s when she remembered Mrs. Bernbaum only met Richard about six months ago, when he came from Florida to search for his lost relatives. What did Mrs. Bernbaum really know about her nephew? So she typed Dr. Richard Walmer in quotation marks and Googled him.