Cold Grave (14 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Fox

Tags: #Crime, #General, #Suspense, #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction

BOOK: Cold Grave
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By the time she had towel-dried her hair and used a spare to wrap around herself, Martin had arrived and he and Ben were sitting on the couch watching cartoons. Self-conscious in only a towel, Anya excused herself as she collected clean underwear, a polo shirt and jeans from her drawer.

‘Don’t mind me, I’ve seen it all before, you know,’ Martin ribbed.

Anya returned to the bathroom to dress.

When she emerged, they had switched off the television and were ready to eat. Anya collected the papers Nuala had delivered and placed them in the side pocket of her carry-on bag.

They headed out, greeting Junta at her supply cart in the corridor. The room steward looked Martin up and down and winked at Anya.

‘Good morning,’ she said in her lyrical voice.

Anya returned the greeting, then spoke quietly. ‘May I ask you a personal question?’

‘Is something wrong in your cabin?’

‘No, everything’s perfect.’ Anya felt awkward but continued anyway. ‘Without tips, can I ask how much you are paid by the company?’

Junta looked up and down the corridor. ‘About fifty American dollars each month, so I do a good job, Miss Anya?’

‘Outstanding,’ Anya declared.

‘’Cause I need to look after my family.’

‘You’re the best housekeeper I’ve ever seen,’ Martin added.

Junta grinned a toothy smile. ‘You and your family have a great day now.’

‘Thanks, we will.’ Martin winked.

He was in a surprisingly good mood, Anya thought.

At breakfast, they opted for the restaurant to avoid the queues at the buffet. The maître d’ was named Ivan, from Bulgaria, and had a kind, but serious face.

Dressed in a blue and gold vest, with matching bow tie, he escorted them to their table, next to a well-dressed elderly couple.

‘How do you say thank you in your language?’ Ben asked as he took his seat.

Ivan squatted down to Ben’s height.

‘In Bulgaria, we say bwa-go-daria.’

Ben’s eyes widened. He repeated the line, once alone and the second time with Ivan, whose face glowed when he smiled this time. Ivan headed back to greet more guests, with a lightened step.

The table servers hung back until Ivan had left. They introduced themselves as Iketut from Indonesia, and Kujan from Sri Lanka. Kujan handed each of them a menu while Iketut filled their glasses with water and offered juice, tea and coffee. Ben was on a roll. He asked the Indonesian and Sri Lankan words for thanks, and practised them a few times quietly under his breath.

‘You have a great little man there.’ The man from the next table commented. ‘You should be very proud.’

His wife gave him a scolding look. ‘Leave them in peace. It’s their family time.’

‘We’re from Australia,’ Ben announced. ‘Where do you live?’

‘California,’ the old man smiled through a perfectly trimmed silver moustache. ‘Would you like me to help with that . . . you’ve got a little something in your ear.’

Ben flicked both sides of his head. The man stood, unbuttoned his jacket and placed the linen napkin back on his table. He stepped across and reached out to Ben’s ear. A shiny quarter appeared in his hand, which he held in front of Ben’s face. ‘Now you should hear your parents a lot better.’

Martin laughed. Ben sat with his mouth gaping. Anya loved that in a world full of digital toys, a simple illusion could still be captivating.

‘Wow! How did you do that?’

The gentleman brushed the side of his nose. ‘Trade secret.’

‘Can you teach me?’

The man patted his Santa-like belly. ‘I’m afraid there’s a magician’s code and only true magicians can learn the way.’

‘Robert. Leave the child alone,’ his wife muttered, while continuing to read the day’s planner. ‘You haven’t finished your fruit bran.’

He stepped back to his table. ‘I’ll leave you to enjoy your breakfast.’

Ben felt his other ear, in case there were more coins hiding there, while Martin ordered bacon, eggs, sausages and toast for them both.

After choosing eggs Benedict with smoked salmon, Anya placed the napkin on her lap. ‘Full breakfast? You are in a good mood.’

Martin’s eyes seemed to shine. He leant forward. ‘Yesterday changed me. What really matters seems so much clearer. Anyway . . . I have fantastic news!’

Anya felt a sudden heaviness in her chest. Had her former husband proposed to his girlfriend overnight? Ben, who would have a stepmother, seemed preoccupied with the colouring page and pencils that Iketut had delivered with their still water.

‘The purser rang this morning and apologised for the fiasco with our cabins. In appreciation for all our help . . . drum roll if you please . . . they’re upgrading us to a three-bedroom suite!’

That captured Ben’s attention. ‘Are we all going to be living together?’

Anya felt her chest lighten. They would be closer but have their own privacy as well. And she didn’t have to worry about a stepmother just yet.

‘No, mate, but we’re being moved to one of the fanciest cabins on the ship. There’s a bedroom for each of us. We’ll even have our own butler!’

‘Yay!’ Ben reached across and high-fived his father.

As they ate, it was apparent how many of the serving crew were Filipino, Indian or Indonesian. They smiled and greeted passengers, but it felt as if there was an underlying tension in the room. Then again, Anya could have been imagining it given what she had learnt last night. She wondered how many of the crew were toward the end of a long contract.

With a full stomach and feeling sluggish, Anya began to regret her choice of such a fat-laden breakfast. Kujan cleared the plates and Iketut reappeared with a fruit smoothie that she hadn’t ordered.

‘For you, ma’am.’ He bent over so no one else could hear. ‘We heard Carlos is hurt but no one will say how bad.’ The waiter’s forehead glistened with perspiration.

‘I’m sorry, but I can’t comment. Maybe you should ask your supervisor.’

Obviously, the ship’s telegraph did not relay everything that happened on board. Anya had assumed Carlos’s family would have been notified by the doctor. Iketut had a similar pleading look to the one that Carlos had shown. He wasn’t asking if the shooter’s identity was known and she thought there was a tear forming in his eye.

‘His wife is in hospital in Bogotá.’ He lowered his voice even further. ‘Breast cancer. If he does not call, she will know something is wrong. We don’t know what to do.’

Her heart went out to Iketut, and Carlos for his home situation. She carefully considered her response.

‘All I know is that when I left last night, he was unconscious in a serious, but stable condition.’ It was a way of saying a lot without giving anything away. She hadn’t disclosed whether Carlos had been conscious at all, or what may have happened overnight. ‘You didn’t hear it from me, OK?’

Iketut wiped his forehead. ‘Thank you, ma’am, may God shine on your beautiful family. Carlos is a good man. Our room is across the corridor from him. He is like our brother.’

His reaction seemed genuine. She wondered if he would be as happy if he knew Carlos had lost both legs.

As they left the table, Ben thanked the waiters in Indonesian and Sri Lankan, which brought a smile to their faces. Iketut moved quickly to Kujan, and a grin unfolded across Kujan’s face at the news.

Anya caught up to Ben and Martin.

‘Hey Dad, when do we move to the fancy cabin?’

‘We can go right now. I have the key.’

They took the lift to the eighth deck and followed Martin to the end of a port-side corridor. Inside, they all gasped. The suite had two levels joined by a staircase. On the lower area, a glass dining table with eight chairs was positioned near a kitchenette that fitted beneath the stairs. The remaining area contained two leather lounge suites facing a large screen TV mounted on the wall. Adjacent, a baby grand piano stood in the centre of an area surrounded by bookshelves filled with pottery and hardbacks. A bathroom with two sinks was also included on the lower floor. Three loft-style bedrooms looked out over the main area.

Ben didn’t hesitate to run up the stairs.

‘Wow! Which is mine?’

Anya and Martin followed. Sliding doors offered privacy for each room. The design was modern and filled with natural light from the extensive ocean views.

‘This is yours, take your pick of beds,’ Martin said.

Ben chose the twin to the left. His bag was already at the foot of the other.

Both Anya and Martin’s bags were in the queen-size room at the end.

‘They moved our things?’

‘That’s the other great news,’ Martin declared. ‘They’ve been doing it all for us, while we had brekkie.’

‘My laptop and papers were in the safe.’

‘Annie, relax. I gave them permission to open the safes. They thought of everything. Check your carry-on.’

Anya wasn’t sure it was a good thing if someone had access to their passports and valuables. She pulled the bag onto the bed and unzipped it. Inside were two passports, travel documents, her laptop, and Australian dollars. Everything of value that had been inside the safe.

She checked the side pocket. The information Nuala had given her was gone.

12

 

After they’d unpacked, Ben had begged to spend time in the kids’ club. Neither Anya nor Martin had the heart to refuse. Martin happily took him there for a couple of hours and decided to spend that time in the gym and games room, to give Anya some time to herself.

FitzHarris sat at his desk amid a mess of paperwork. He had a five o’clock shadow and looked like he’d been up all night. The room was the size of Carlos’s cabin and contained a filing cabinet, desk, two phones and a computer. There was barely enough space for the second chair.

‘What can I do you for?’ His eyes opened wide, a change from the forehead crease. ‘How’re the new accommodation?’

‘Amazing. The view, all of it. Thank you for organising the move. It was a kind gesture and means Ben can see a little more of both of us.’

Fitz’s cheeks ruddied a little.

‘Yeah, well. Did everything get moved over okay?’

Anya wondered why he would specifically ask that.

‘Yes – even the contents of the safe . . . I did have some papers in the side pocket of my carry-on bag that were misplaced, or lost.’

The crease returned to his forehead. He picked up a pen. ‘Anything valuable?’

‘No, but they were private.’ Anya watched for any recognition, or surprise. His face was unreadable. This man could be a poker champion.

‘Can you replace them?’

‘Probably. It’s nothing. I only mentioned it because you asked.’

‘Junta’s one of our stalwarts. No thieving on her shifts. Sometimes we get guests claiming to have lost thousands of dollars worth of jewellery, just so they can claim on insurance. I can’t tell you the number of times ten thousand dollars in cash is allegedly “stolen” from a safe. Sure we get some light-fingered crew members but if they get caught, they’re out. Usually, with questioning, it turns out the ten grand never existed.’

Anya suspected he was far too busy to go through her papers and had no reason to.

‘Trust no one’ was making her paranoid.

‘You know,’ FitzHarris began, ‘all those years in the force taught me one thing when interviewing a witness or a perp. It’s what people don’t tell you that sometimes says the most.’

‘Is this off the record?’

‘If you want it to be.’ He gestured to the empty seat.

Anya took off her wind jacket and placed it across her lap. ‘An employee delivered an envelope to my room last night.’

Fitz stood and moved around to Anya’s side of the table. He crossed his arms and leant back against the desk.

‘Go on.’

Anya suspected Fitz thought this made it easier for interviewees to consider him ‘on their side’. Only, with his imposing size, their side suddenly felt crowded. She preferred the barrier of the desk. She folded her own arms and tucked her ankles beneath her chair.

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