Set Sail for Murder (19 page)

“I didn’t say a word!”

Other passengers, and Lawrence, began to take notice of an altercation erupting.

“Anyway, it was just fun and games,” Saul said. “Nothing was supposed to happen. Laura Craw—” Saul shut his mouth and sat down on the bench. “As I said, it was that Miss Masseuse-with-a-fake-license who started the whole thing. I just tagged along for the fun of it.”

“Fun?” Placenta gasped with horror.

Saul took a deep breath. “The entire crew was in on it! We’ve done it before and we’ll do it again, if we can get away with it. But I swear, I never suspected these results. I won!”

“You call Laura Crawford’s death winning?” Tim said, looking around for a security officer.

“I made seven hundred bucks.”

“Is that all a life is worth to you?” Placenta bellowed.

“It would have been more if that Cosby kid had died,” Saul said. “Imagine if I’d said Michael Jackson! The younger they are, the bigger the payoff. Unless they already have some terminal disease. You know how it works.”

“No! As a matter of fact I don’t know how it works,” Placenta said as she grabbed Saul by his shirt. “Oh, sweet
Jesus! Where’s the captain? Where’s security? Where’s anyone with a video camera to record what you’re saying?”

Tim grabbed Saul by the arm and heaved him to his feet. “Somebody! Anybody! Get the captain!” Tim yelled. “Hurry! It’s an emergency.”

Lawrence stopped playing piano and jumped off the raised platform to rush to Placenta’s side. A crowd encircled the quartet. Almost instantly, a team of security officers arrived and pried Saul out of Tim’s clutches. Tim and Saul and Placenta were strong-armed and forced to stand against the bar. As a large crowd gathered to witness the event, the captain walked in and pushed his way through the dense throng of onlookers. He looked at Tim and Placenta. “For some stupid reason I thought Polly Pepper was the only troublemaker on this voyage.”

“Don’t forget that other certain menace, the person or persons responsible for the near decapitation of Laura Crawford,” Placenta said.

“So what’s this all about?” Captain Sheridan demanded.

“We have one of the killers right here,” Tim said as he tried to catch his breath. “It’s Saul. And find Rosemary—from the spa. You’ll want to get her confession too.”

“Confession? You’re crazy!” Saul exclaimed. “I never … What the hell are you talking about?”

Captain Sheridan cocked his head to one of his officers, who scurried off to find Rosemary and bring her to the lounge.

“Sure. Lie about it now. Cover your murderous butt.” Placenta scowled at Saul. “And you’re a crummy dancer, too!”

Captain Sheridan glowered at the trio. They recoiled in fear.

Finally, a security officer arrived with Rosemary. She took one look at the scene and hesitated before asking, “What’s up?”

“You tell me,” Captain Sheridan shouted.

Crowds attract crowds, and by now it seemed that the entire roster of passengers had been drawn to the scene. An angry sea captain and a coterie of white-uniformed officers detaining the popular cruise director and two passengers who, someone whispered, were friends of the star of an old television series, was about as exciting as bearing witness to someone being arrested and handcuffed on the street by the police.

“May I speak?” Placenta asked.

“Someone better,” the captain thundered.

“I’ve heard a lot of things in my lifetime, but tonight …” Placenta shook her head in astonishment. “Earlier in the evening we overheard that television brat Cori Berman talk about Polly Pepper cashing in. And I don’t mean poker chips.”

Tim interrupted. “After the death of her friend Laura Crawford, and Polly’s mock obituary in the
Daily Wave,
and the fact that she’s been stalked all night …”

“And then to hear this one”—she pointed to Saul—“confessing that he and Rosemary killed Laura for a mere seven hundred dollars …”

“Kill?” Saul cried. “What!”

Rosemary snapped, “Shut up! You greedy little pisher! You had to have the money before the voyage was over. Look what happens when we don’t play by the rules. You’d better confess. Or I’ll sing like a bird.”

“A killing? Yeah,” Saul said.

The dull clamor from the crowd nearly drowned out Saul’s next words. “But it’s not what you think.”

“It never is,” Tim said above the sounds of loud whispers and tones of disbelief. “You made seven hundred bucks, but you won’t be able to spend it, except perhaps on ciggies for your match made in jail.”

Suddenly, from the crowd, the sound of one man lethargically clapping rose above the din of the other passengers’ murmurs. As the clapping continued, the throng parted to
reveal Cori Berman. In blue jeans and a white shirt with its tails out, the sleeves rolled up over his forearms, Cori proceeded to the front of the swarm of onlookers. When he arrived to face Tim and Placenta, he shook his head. “You silly people,” he said.

“You’re part of this too,” Tim said. “We overheard you earlier this evening telling Rosemary that Polly was cashing in. Well, guess what, she’s not dead and she’s not going to be dead. At least not on this cruise!”

Cori smirked. “One should never come in at the end of a private conversation and jump to conclusions.”

“Saul made seven hundred dollars for killing Laura Crawford,” Placenta said.

“Brains don’t run in the family, do they?” Cori said. “Is it genetic and then passed on by osmosis to the household staff? Did either of you ever hear of the dead pool?”

Tim instantly said, “Clint Eastwood, Liam Neeson, Patricia Clarkson. Nineteen eighty-eight. Directed by Buddy Van Horn.”

“Another notch on your idiot post,” Cori scorned as laughter erupted from the mob.

Captain Sheridan wailed in disbelief. “The dead pool? You’re not involved in that again!” He looked at Rosemary. “I specifically told you what would happen if …”

“With all these old celebrities ready to kick the bucket, how can you blame us?” she pressed. “The dead pool money is too good to pass up. God knows since this freakin’ Kool Krooz outfit stays mostly in international waters, there aren’t any minimum wage rules. We could all use a few extra easy bucks.”

“Dead pool?” Tim asked sheepishly.

Captain Sheridan shook his head and looked at Saul, then at Rosemary. “I’m outta here. You all work this out. Be in my office tomorrow morning at nine.” He turned and left the horde of passengers who were still trying to figure out what was going on.

“Dead pool?” Placenta followed Tim’s query. “Where’s the ‘dead pool’?”

Cori giggled. “This is fun. Now everyone in the family has made public fools of themselves. You’ve accused two more people of Laura Crawford’s murder, when all they did was ante up some
dinero
and guessed who would die on this journey.”

“The dead pool!” Tim and Placenta both yelled at once and looked at each other in shocked surprise.

Cori said, “My money is still on Polly Pepper ‘cashing in’ before we reach Alaska!”

“W
e’re a laughingstock. Just like Octomom, and Jon and Kate,” Tim cried as he and Placenta elbowed their way through the sniggering crowd and escaped down the corridor to the elevators.

“I can’t face Lawrence, let alone spend the night with him,” Placenta bellowed.

“Polly’ll be furious!”

“No one’s as guilty of jumping to conclusions as much as she is,” Placenta reminded.

“But we’re supposed to be smarter than she is,” Tim cried out as they rushed past passengers, a few of whom were pointing and sniggering at them. “News spreads quickly.”

“Like intestinal bacteria on a cruise to Mexico!”

“Polly is many amazing things,” Tim said, as they ascended a staircase, rather than wait for the elevator. “But her brain isn’t exactly hermetically sealed.”

Tim led Placenta to her stateroom. As he hugged her good night he said, “Call Lawrence. Trust me, he’s not going to hold our stupidity against you. Blame it on me, and just have some fun.”

“What about you?” Placenta asked.

“All I want is my pillow,” he whined. “I’m going straight
to bed. Alone. I won’t even attempt to coax the guards away from Polly’s door to my own.” He laughed. “I’m kidding. Sort of. Actually, I should run by her stateroom to make sure everything is okay.”

“This is probably the only time we’ll ever be one hundred percent guaranteed that Polly is out of trouble.” Placenta pushed her key card into the slot and opened the door to her cabin. “We’ll talk in the
A.M.
”

Tim made a “mwah” sound and waited until Placenta closed the door and he heard the lock pushed into place.

En route to his own cabin, Tim climbed the steps to his and Polly’s deck. As he walked down the corridor toward her cabin, Tim saw that indeed his mother’s door was still being guarded. However, the two ship’s security men were in a heated exchange with another man. When Tim arrived, the man was yelling at the closed door.

“Polly! It’s me. Dorian! They won’t let me in!”

Tim looked at the two guards. “What’s up?”

The three men turned and gave Tim attitude and a look that said,
What’s it to you?

“It’s her kid,” one guard said to the other.

Dorian’s demeanor instantly changed. He beamed a wide smile and reached out his hand to shake Tim’s. “I’ve been wanting to meet you,” he said, practically wagging a tail. “I’m Dorian Dawson. Your mother speaks so highly of you—her pride and joy.”

Although Tim smiled, he was ill at ease.
This can’t be the guy Polly’s so into. He’s a nothing runt,
he said to himself.

Dorian put his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “How ‘bout a drink, son?”

Tim squirmed. He hated to be called “son,” even by his two fathers. However, politeness prevented him from shirking away Dorian’s hand. “It’s late and I’m dead,” Tim said, trying to respectfully extricate himself from the invitation. “We’ll do drinks with Polly tomorrow.”

“It’s already tomorrow,” Dorian said. “I promise not to keep you long.” Dorian attempted to guide Tim down the corridor.

Tim forced a small laugh and said, “There’s not much more to get to know. I’m an open book. What you see is what you get. You can check out my Web site, www.HotforDHP. com. Anyway, I’ll be a better conversationalist after I get my beauty sleep. We’ll have brunch.”

Dorian wasn’t giving up. “You hardly need any beauty sleep. Just one question. Do you think that your mother likes me?”

Tim stopped and gave Dorian a quizzical look. “Polly doesn’t spend time with people she doesn’t find amusing,” Tim said, while thinking,
Polly needs a mental tune-up.

“That’s a relief.” Dorian sighed. “Women are hard to read. Don’t you think so too, son?”

Tim cringed again, but he agreed that yes, sometimes women can be scary. “Why do you even have to ask if she likes you? Is there a problem?” Tim said, cloaking his hopefulness with a frown.

“From time to time we all need reassurance,” Dorian said. “Polly’s a very special lady and I’m not in her league.”

You’re not in Joan Rivers’s league either, and she’s embalmed!

“I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize our relationship.”

Relationship?
Tim wanted to cry out with sarcasm.
You’re nothing more to Polly than a shipboard diversion. Polly would never settle for someone like you. She already has a great boyfriend.
Instead he said, “Yeah, Mother is unique.” He made eye contact with Dorian. “We’ll connect tomorrow.”

Dorian patted Tim on the back in a patronizing way. “Don’t do this to me, son. Did your mother raise you to reject someone who is extending a hand in friendship? I just want to have a quick drink and become your friend.”

Tim had a thick skin when it came to being personally criticized about aspects of his professional work, or being teased about his not-so-secret crush on
Good Morning America
’s weatherman Sam Champion. However, no one got away with saying anything disparaging to his face about his mother, or her parenting skills. Tim brushed Dorian’s hand off his shoulder and turned toward him like an angry sports team manager facing a referee. He pushed his index finger into Dorian’s chest.

Dorian was shocked. He instantly backed up against the corridor wall and put up his hands to show he was harmless. “I don’t understand. What did I say?” he pleaded.

“To answer your first stupid remark, yes, this is how my mother raised me. She did a damn good job, too. She always told me to be considerate of slimy things, like her agent, J.J.—and an assortment of snakes. So I’m going to let you slither away and pretend this unpleasantness never happened. Leave before I do something that Mother would
not
be proud of.”

The two security guards had watched the altercation and rushed to intervene. “Break it up, guys,” one said. “Passengers are trying to sleep.”

Both Tim and Dorian apologized and insisted that they’d simply had a misunderstanding. “Just take care of my mother, who I’m sure is fast asleep,” Tim said.

As Tim and Dorian walked in silence down the corridor toward the elevators, the guards returned to their post. When Dorian reached for the elevator call button, Tim decided to take the stairs. “I may not be able to join you for lunch or drinks after all,” Tim said. “I’m sure that something more important will come up.”

“Don’t burn bridges, son.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tim asked.

Dorian simply glared at Tim, and when the elevator car arrived, he stepped in, pushed a button on the panel, and the doors closed.

Tim turned and descended the stairs. As soon as he reached the next deck he ran as quickly as he could to Placenta’s cabin. He knocked softly on her door and whispered, “It’s me. Open up.” When the door opened, Tim smiled brightly.

With one hand on her hip and the other high on the doorframe, Polly said, “Perfect timing, Sweetums.”

Polly Pepper smiled as she leaned in to kiss Tim’s cheek and welcome him to Placenta’s cabin. “We’re having a little champagne celebration! Napoleon’s escape from Elba couldn’t have been as smooth and swift, thanks to you!”

Lounging on Placenta’s bed, with a glass of champagne in her hand, and fingering her string of pearls, Polly looked at Tim. “No wonder Betty White doesn’t want to play poker with you anymore,” she said. “Your face turns to stone. You never gave any indication that you saw me sneaking out of my stateroom.”