Cold Grave (21 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Fox

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

BOOK: Cold Grave
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Mrs Ratzenberg explained, ‘I guess they just preferred to be together. Kandy asked if the girls wanted to come to the teen club, but they said they weren’t allowed. Something about study and practice.’

‘Lilly Chan was sixteen years old.’ Fitz passed across an enlarged photocopy of her ID image.

The parents sat forward and looked. The husband slipped his hand into one of his wife’s.

‘The poor family. Do you know what happened?’

‘We’re looking into a number of possibilities, and trying to piece together her last few hours. We were hoping Kandy might be able to help us out.’

The girl startled. ‘Why me?’

‘You might have seen her later that night.’

Kandy began twisting a section of hair around her index finger, then releasing it.

‘I went to check out the teen club after dinner, watched a show, then I took a walk before bed.’

Mr Ratzenberg nodded. ‘She was in bed when we came back from the nightclub, which was around one am, I think.’

His wife concurred.

Fitz took notes as the father watched. From what Anya had seen, there was little chance of anyone deciphering the security officer’s handwriting.

‘Did you happen to see Lilly at all after dinner?’

‘Yeah, I saw her in the garden and she said we should check out the ship together. We went up on the deck to see the stars. There was a disco playing all this old-time music.’ The hair twirling continued. ‘We had a couple of dances then we went to get a drink of water. That’s when she left, without even saying goodbye. So I went back to the cabin.’

There was no mention of the men.

‘Did you two meet anyone else up there?’

The hair was wrapped in a tighter coil. ‘Some men tried to get us to dance with them, and offered us drinks.’

‘Did you accept?’

The hair bounced free. ‘Of course not. I’m only fifteen. These men were old.’

‘You’re sure that’s what happened?’

Mr Ratzenberg sat forward. ‘What are you implying? If that’s what Kandy says, it’s what happened. Look, we came to help but if you’re going to question Kandy as if she’s a criminal.’ He placed his enormous hands on the table, causing it to shift.

Anya spoke calmly. ‘No one is suggesting anything. But it’s very important to get as many details as possible. Someone knows what happened in those last few hours of Lilly’s life, and the family is in so much pain. You can imagine how hard this has been for them. Not knowing is even worse.’

Mrs Ratzenberg patted her husband’s hand. ‘Of course we understand. Losing a child is every parent’s worst nightmare. We couldn’t bear to think if anything happened to Kandy. She’s our miracle child. We didn’t think I could carry a child to term, but God answered our prayers.’

She reached over and put her arm around Kandy’s shoulders. ‘Darling, is there anything else you remember that might be helpful? Something Lilly might have said about where she was going? Or something you saw, you don’t think was important, but could be?’

‘No, that’s all.’

Fitz had one more question, it seemed. ‘There were six alcoholic drinks purchased on Lilly’s electronic cabin card. Do you know who they were for, or why she bought so many?’

All attention was on the teenager.

‘No! I’m not allowed to drink. I don’t know anything about that.’ She began to bite her bottom lip. ‘I can’t believe she’s dead. She told me she had a big fight with her mother that day and wouldn’t follow all the stupid rules anymore. She wanted to live with her Dad in Hawaii.’

Kandy put her face into her mother’s shoulder and cried.

‘I’m not one to judge,’ the father began. ‘But children from broken homes need to be carefully watched. You know they are at more risk of doing drugs and having teenage pregnancies. I think buying those drinks tells you a lot. That mother should have kept a better eye on her children. I’ll bet this wasn’t the first time the girl went wild.’

‘Frank, now isn’t the time.’

He pushed the chair back and stood. ‘No, I’m fed up with all this blaming society for a kid’s wild behaviour. I’m telling you. It all starts in the home. Everything comes down to the parents. You look at the mother and you’ll find all the answers you need.’

19

 

Later that afternoon, Martin decided to read so Anya took Ben to the cinema to watch a pirate movie, followed by dinner in the 1950s-style diner. Still not worn out, Ben begged to play Uno back at the suite. Martin joined them and they played until nine. Ben protested about going to bed, but was asleep within minutes of Anya stroking his hair.

Anya went back downstairs to discuss Mats Anderson’s fax with Martin. She poured them each a glass of wine and the phone rang. It was Martin’s girlfriend, and he seemed suddenly uncomfortable. Anya took the wine upstairs and closed the screen to her room to give them privacy. The afternoon with Ben had been special, and then the three of them had laughed and been silly during the card game, with Martin continually forgetting the rules. Or so he wanted Ben to think. Martin had been more relaxed than she’d seen him in a long time, but became awkward once he knew who was on the phone. She wondered whether there was more to him coming on the trip than he had let on. After an hour, tiredness overcame her and she slept.

The following morning, she woke up to the smell of toast and eggs. Ben carried a glass of juice up the stairs, his tongue sticking out with concentration. In the glass was a purple parasol.

‘Morning, Mum, it’s breakfast in bed time.’

Martin carried a room-service tray with poached eggs, toast and roasted tomatoes, with a frangipani as garnish. ‘We could lie and say we made it ourselves, but . . .’

Anya sat up, touched by the gesture.

‘I’m not allowed to carry hot drinks. Dad says you have to come downstairs for that.’

‘Fair enough, this is so wonderful and considerate. Thank you, both of you.’ She placed the flower behind her right ear and Ben beamed. ‘Anybody like some?’

‘We didn’t want to wake you so had ours downstairs,’ Martin explained before leaving the room.

Anya buttered some toast, took a bite, then offered one to Ben, who didn’t hesitate to finish the piece. It was funny, she thought, how someone else’s food always tasted better to him.

‘Can we see Jasmine today? She’s a really good piano player.’

‘Tell you what. If I see her, I’ll ask if she can come over here. Instead, would you like to spend a couple of hours in the kids’ club, like yesterday?’

He kissed her cheek and slid off the bed. She could hear him thumping down the stairs. ‘Dad, Mum says I can go to kids’ club!’

Anya sat back. If the world ended at the cabin door, she would be happy.

After breakfast, Anya dressed and dropped Ben at the club, before heading to the medical centre. The waiting room was clean, white and had fresh flowers placed on the wooden coffee table. Lights were off, and the place was quiet. Just behind her through the door came Rachel, the junior nurse, in uniform, keys in hand. Her shoulder-length hair was slicked back into a ponytail. A full fringe covered the top of now blue-rimmed glasses.

‘If you’re looking for Karen, she isn’t here. Clinic’s between ten and twelve, then again from five ’til seven every day.’

‘That’s fine. I was hoping to see how Carlos is.’

‘Oh.’ The young nurse switched on the main lights and placed the collection of keys on her belt loop. ‘He’s slept pretty much the whole time since the surgery. He became febrile overnight. Doctor Novak stayed with him while antibiotics took effect.’

Rachel’s shoes squeaked on the lino floor while the keys jingled as she headed off to check on the patients.

Anya decided to wait and see what Carlos’s condition was now. She kept thinking about the desperate way he’d looked at her. What did he know? She sat on one of the lounges and glanced through the magazines on the table. Beside the fresh flowers she found a print-out of the morning’s news.

‘Terrorist attack kills twenty-one: two missing, presumed dead.’ The headline was like so many others, but something in the first paragraph caught Anya’s eye.

‘Tributes pouring in from around the world for shipping magnate Sven Anderson and his family.’

Anderson. The owner of the
Paradisio
.

She sat up and read on.

Anderson’s yacht was destroyed by a tender filled with explosives. At this point, police weren’t ruling out the possibility of a terrorist suicide bomber. According to unnamed sources, Sven Anderson had left hospital and travelled to Greece, where his super-yacht was moored for his eldest son Mats’ fortieth birthday. It is believed Mats was on his way to the boat by helicopter and was two miles away when the explosion took place. A salvage operation has been launched to recover the bodies. It is believed Sven Anderson’s second son from his first marriage Lars, died along with Simon, twenty-five, and Julie, twenty-three, from the second marriage. Police sources say that, due to the size of the explosion, it is likely everyone on board died instantly. Sven Anderson’s daughter, Liesl, two, and her mother, Svetlana, a Russian socialite who became Anderson’s third wife three years ago, were believed to be on the island estate at the time. It is not known if they had planned to attend the birthday celebrations.

The tragedy was compared to the misfortunes that afflicted other rich and famous families – the Gettys, Kennedys, and the list went on. Something to make the masses happy to think that wealth and tragedy went hand in hand.

Anya felt for the family. Sven and Lars Anderson dead. Mats Anderson still alive.

So far, no terrorist group had claimed responsibility, but several theories were aired. Mats had supposedly gone out with the daughter of a wealthy politician from Pakistan and became embroiled in a scandal when he was photographed with two prostitutes at a nightclub. Extremist Muslims could have targeted the family, who represented all the indulgences and excesses of capitalism.

If it were a terrorist attack, Anya wondered if any of the cruise ships were potential targets. Thousands of people in the middle of the ocean were far easier to bring down than a plane. She tried to block the thought.

Reading on, it seemed Sven Anderson had bought up almost sixty percent of the competition in the cruise line industry. Further reports described him as a savvy business leader who wielded considerable power in Washington. There were some suggestions that early in his career he had sold arms to the Israelis and Palestinians. An investigation was ongoing.

It would hardly be a surprise if the man had made hordes of enemies over the years.

His Russian widow was quoted as saying that her husband, ‘had travelled with a bodyguard’ after receiving death threats from fanatical environmentalists, angered by the pollution they claimed cruise ships left in their wake. The story described Anderson as a pioneer in environmental policy and a visionary in protecting pristine territories.

Anya thought about what Laura had said yesterday about Lars being more of an environmentalist than Mats, who wanted to cut costs. Perhaps it wasn’t just lucky that Mats wasn’t onboard.

Rhythmic squeaking and jingling approached.

‘Doctor Novak’s changing the dressings so I didn’t disturb him.’

The nurse studied Anya. ‘Why are you here again?’

‘I just wanted to know how Carlos was. I was at the surgery.’

‘I know that.’

It seemed Novak wasn’t the only one with a curt bedside manner.

‘Flowers are pretty,’ Anya tried to engage Rachel to find out anything more about Carlos.

‘Paco, our steward does the flowers and prints the latest news for us. It isn’t rocket science. I told you Karen wasn’t in until later.’

‘Busy night?’ Maybe Rachel was more comfortable talking about clinical subjects.

The nurse bent down and straightened the magazines, checking the clock on the wall.

‘The usual. A forty year old going through the DTs in the crew ward, a demented passenger with pneumonia who tried to punch a steward. He’s on IV antibiotics, and restrained for his own safety. Each one had to be specialled.’

Anya knew that meant one-on-one, intensive nursing care. The team’s resources must be stretched to the limit.

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