“Not anymore.” Hilda grew quiet as she polished off the tacos and then began sipping her tea. “Her husband, Norbert, left her a rather large amount of life insurance money. She changed after that.”
“But she decided to cruise to the States with your group,” Millie prompted. “Which means she wasn’t planning on working.”
“Clarissa only did the reporter thing for attention. She loved the spotlight, loved being the center of attention.” Hilda’s expression grew thoughtful. “Her goal in life was to be rich and famous. In a way, she managed to accomplish both.”
“Did she mention if she’d been following the case of the Southampton Strangler?”
“Nope. In fact, I had no idea she was even investigating until I heard something about it on the news this evening. Clarissa could be tight-lipped if she needed to.”
“Her holiday home, was it near yours?”
“No. Hers was in a gated community. When you’re a socialite at her level of standing, you can’t live among the commoners.”
Millie detected a hint of bitterness in Hilda’s voice.
“Money has a way of changing people.”
“It certainly does.” Hilda folded her quesadilla in half and savored her first bite. “This is delicious,” she mumbled. “It’s even better than the tacos.”
“It looks tasty.”
Hilda eyed Millie’s nearly empty plate. “That’s all you’re eating?”
“I have a hard time sleeping if I eat too much before going to bed.”
“I’ve never had that problem. The fuller the better is my motto,” Hilda said. “I think there was one more reason Clarissa was keen on joining us for the cruise.”
“Which was?” Millie prompted.
“I think she had a crush on Edward and Annabel’s friend, Thomas Windsor. Maybe he was somehow involved in her death.”
Chapter 9
“You…you think that Clarissa had a crush on Thomas Windsor?” Millie stammered. “I wonder if the investigators know that.”
Hilda grabbed a tortilla chip and dipped it in her salsa. “I told them all about it. I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to finish eating before my food gets cold.”
While Hilda ate, Millie thought about what she’d said. Thomas Windsor was dashing and sophisticated, emanating an aura of mystery and charm. Women swooned over him. It was easy to understand why Clarissa was no different. He had women chasing him around all the time and could easily handle an “overly eager” admirer.
Besides, what reason would he have to kill Clarissa? Unless Clarissa had uncovered something about Thomas. Perhaps she suspected him of being the strangler and contacted her office to let them know she had a story.
What if he had found out and somehow lured her to a remote area of the park where he strangled her? But if Hilda had told the authorities what she knew, then why would they allow him to leave the country?
Surely, they could’ve come up with some minor offense to detain him and prevent him from boarding Siren of the Seas.
Although it was circumstantial. Yes, Thomas may have had the opportunity and motive if he was the strangler. It was a huge IF.
“How well do you know the Moxeys?”
“We all used to hang around in the same group together until Kate and Harry decided to spice up their marriage.”
“Spice up their marriage?” Millie echoed.
“You’ll find out soon enough if you spend time around them.” Hilda burped. “Excuse me.” She scraped the sauce off the bottom of her now empty plate. “Edward…Eddie and Annabel are great. We’ve been friends with them for almost as long as Clarissa and Norbert before his death.” Hilda downed the last of her tea. “You seem quite interested in my friends and the strangler.”
“I’m just curious about the case.”
Hilda scooched out of her chair. “I like to believe I’m smarter than the average person. If you ask me, I think the strangler finished what he set out to do and now he’ll go dormant again.”
While they walked, Hilda bombarded Millie with questions about the ship, about security and crewmembers’ private quarters, and then began offering unsolicited advice on what she thought should be added in the way of entertainment.
By the time they reached the woman’s cabin, Millie’s ears were ringing, and she felt copious amounts of compassion for her husband, Bruce.
Hilda slipped her keycard in the slot, eased the door open and switched the lights on.
From Millie’s hallway vantage point, she could see the compact cabin was empty. “Your husband is still in the casino?”
“He’ll be there until they close. Hopefully, he’s up. He lost some money last night.” Hilda thanked her for accompanying her back to the cabin and, after she left, Millie got the impression the woman was lonely. Bruce may or may not be a big gambler, but she secretly suspected the casino was his escape.
She finished her last rounds and returned to the apartment. Nic, who had been on the bridge, was close behind. “That was a rough one.”
“Without a doubt.”
Nic removed his jacket and gave her a quick hug. “It was a long day.”
“Extremely, like squeezing two days of events into one. These long sea days are going to take some getting used to.”
“Here. Here.” Nic followed Scout and Millie onto the balcony.
The night skies were clear and filled with a dazzling array of twinkling stars. “It’s beautiful. You may have missed it, but we had red skies at night.”
“Sailor’s delight. Meaning we’re in store for some pleasant weather.” Millie squeezed in closer, and Nic wrapped his arms around her.
“I thoroughly enjoyed your rescue mission.”
“Ugh.” Millie groaned. “Sharky put us through the paces.”
“You handled it like a real team player.”
“Thanks.”
“I heard we had a little excitement with one of the passengers.”
“Hilda Ellis. She thought someone was following her, wasn’t watching where she was going and collided with a potted palm. I joined her for a late dinner and then accompanied her back to her cabin.”
“From what I’m being told, some passengers are jittery. I believe the rumor about the strangler being on board the ship is making its rounds.”
“Rumor,” Millie echoed. “So, there’s no proof yet that he or she boarded the ship?”
“No. What we know is we need to be on guard, passengers and crew alike . The security department is issuing a reminder about passenger’s safety. I’m not sure if it’s gone out yet.”
The couple chatted about the next day’s schedule and then turned in. Exhausted, Millie fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. She didn’t stir until the alarm clock woke her early the next morning.
Repeating her previous day, Millie joined Annette for several brisk strolls around the jogging track. While they walked, she filled her friend in on all that had transpired the previous night.
“I guess it’s best for us to be on guard,” Annette said. “I’ll call a meeting this morning, not to scare my staff but to make them more aware.”
“Especially those who deliver room service.” Millie’s morning flew by. During her lunchbreak, she headed down to the crew’s dining room.
Danielle arrived midway through the meal and joined her.
“How’s your day?”
“Crazy. Andy has me running all over the ship. Scavenger hunts, co-hosting the art auction. CHOG duty is up next.”
CHOGS was the crewmember’s nickname for chair hogs, passengers who got up early in the morning and headed down to the pool area to save primo seats by placing their belongings on them. Later in the morning, they would show up to claim their spots. Many were repeat offenders.
It hadn’t been an issue during the British Isles’ summer months, but now that they were returning to balmier weather, Siren of the Seas had once again begun cracking down on the CHOGS.
“I’m on break for a few. Would y
ou like some help?”
“Yeah, I can always use some backup.”
“I’m your gal.” After finishing and on their way upstairs, Millie filled Danielle in on Hilda’s accident and their conversation during dinner.
“Wow. So, Thomas Windsor might be the Southampton Strangler.”
“Or someone in their party. If you base it strictly on clues, Thomas makes the most sense.”
“He seems like such a nice guy,” Danielle said.
“Some notorious serial killers were nice guys; people you would never suspect.”
They reached the lido deck and headed to the main pool—the largest and busiest. The first two rows of loungers were either occupied or had items placed on the seats.
Millie headed in the opposite direction of Danielle, collecting beach bags and towels, along with paperback and hardcover books. She turned them over to the crewmember who was working at the towel station.
She began a second round of pickups when she noticed Danielle chatting with a young passenger. Millie could see the boy was visibly upset as she dropped off the collected items and made her way over. “What’s going on?”
“I need to have my mother’s stuff left on this chair,” the boy said. “Mummy wants this chair.”
“Where is Mummy?” Millie glanced around.
“In our cabin.”
“Did she leave for a moment to go pick something up?”
The boy lowered his gaze.
“Let me guess. She’s sleeping.”
“She’ll be up any minute now, and she’s going to be furious with me if she doesn’t get this chair.”
“I see.” Millie dug into her pocket and grabbed her notepad and pen. She jotted down a quick note. “Please take this to your mother and let her know chair saving is not allowed.”
The boy’s eyes grew round as saucers. “She’s going to be angry.”
“Then please tell her to contact the guest services desk so they can explain the policy to her.”
“Okay.”
Millie’s heart went out to the boy as she watched him walk off with his mother’s bag. “I like to think of this as an exercise in passenger retraining. I’m hoping once they realize we mean business, it will become less of a problem.”
“It might take some time.” Danielle thanked her for the backup and then Millie headed to her next event. It was early afternoon before her next break. She made a beeline for Patterson’s office to share what she’d heard from Hilda Ellis the previous evening.
His door was ajar, and she could hear voices coming from within. Millie gave it a light rap and then stuck her head inside.
Patterson was there, along with Nic and a somber Donovan Sweeney. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She started to back out when she noticed another person, this one seated in front of the desk, and a portable fingerprinting machine in front of him.
Chapter 10
Millie’s eyes flitted from Andy, who was seated in front of the fingerprinting machine, to Dave Patterson. “At the risk of sounding nosy, what’s going on?”
“The authorities have requested Andy to submit a set of fingerprints for their investigation into Clarissa Sinclair’s murder.”
“They can’t seriously suspect Andy.”
“They caught me on surveillance camera in the area a short time before the woman’s body was found. I suppose it doesn’t help that I’m British, and Siren of the Seas began its summer itinerary when the first in the new round of killings took place.”
“We’re hoping it’s merely a formality,” Donovan said. “They’ll get Andy’s prints, clear his name and then remove him from the list of suspects.”
Millie thought about Hilda Ellis’s claim someone was following her. “Were you able to check the ship’s cameras to find out if Hilda’s insistence she was being followed last night panned out?”
“We did.” Patterson told her they’d gone over the surveillance and found the clip of Ellis. “She appeared nervous and was looking over her shoulder, which was when she tripped over the potted palm. Unfortunately, no one else was caught on camera or found in the vicinity.”
“Either she was mistaken or whoever was following her was aware of the cameras and avoided them.” Millie had another thought. “If the authorities are asking for a print, they must’ve found something at the scene.”
“They’re not sharing as much information as I had hoped.” Frustrated, Patterson tossed his pen on the desk and leaned back in his chair. “All I know is if I were going to murder Clarissa Sinclair, I certainly wouldn’t want to be a part of the group she was traveling with.”
“Unless, as I mentioned last night, she had a hot lead on the strangler and planned to reveal his identity, forcing his or her hand.”
“A valid point. The killer is clever and has eluded the authorities for years now. They may have gotten a little careless in their haste to take the woman out.”
“I’m guessing the authorities would want the fingerprints of the other suspects.”
“I’m sure they already have them,” Nic said.
“So, none of them are a match.” Millie began pacing. “Unless the print they found doesn’t belong to any of them or the strangler.”
“I’m sure you didn’t randomly drop by,” Patterson said. “Is there something you needed?”
“I had a long conversation with Hilda last night before I escorted her to her cabin.” Millie told them what the woman had said, how Clarissa had shown an interest in Thomas Windsor.
“He’s on the radar.”
“I was thinking, if the authorities could retrace Sinclair’s steps prior to her murder, they might be able to figure out who she was with and what she may have found.”
Donovan wagged his finger. “I recognize the look in your eyes, Millie. You should leave well enough alone.”
“Did I say I was planning on investigating?” Millie feigned innocence. “I don’t see the harm in doing a little online research to possibly pick up on something others may have missed.”
Patterson opened his mouth to reply, and Nic lifted a hand, cutting him off. “You know my wife well enough by now. She isn’t going to keep her nose out of it.”
Millie lifted her chin. “I’m trying to help.”
“I know your intentions are well-meaning,” Nic said. “Let me rephrase that. My wife is going to poke around in the case whether we like it or not.”
“That sounds better. Carry on.” Millie squared her shoulders and marched out of Patterson’s office. Admittedly, it probably wasn’t her concern, but there was no harm in doing a little digging around on her own.
But first, she needed to head upstairs to host “Dress the Guest,” a timed game where teams dressed a “teammate” using only one hand.
Over the past several months, the entertainment department had accumulated boxes of clothing donated by crewmembers, as well as clothing and accessories that were left behind by passengers and never claimed.
Today she was “upping the game” by including some interesting items borrowed from the excursions desk.
Millie, along with her co-host, Kevin, assembled several teams before handing out the items. There were bathing suits, yoga pants, tank tops, flip-flops, ball caps, and an array of accessories. Millie passed out the first round of items before getting to the good stuff.
She grabbed the box of goodies Isla had loaned her, and a collective moan went up as she handed out dive masks, snorkels, and fins.
A crowd gathered, watching as the participants struggled to dress their teammate. When the time was up, Millie blew her whistle, and they began removing the items, counting as they went. The onlookers applauded as she passed out complimentary mini-manicures or pedicures to the winners, and then she and Kevin made quick work of putting everything away.
During her afternoon break, she headed home and let Scout onto the balcony. She finished fixing a sandwich and settled in at the desk.
Yip. Millie heard a small whine and felt a gent
le tug on her pant leg. Scout stood staring at her. “I suppose you think you need to be in my lap.”
She scooped him up and held him close. His nose twitched as he zeroed in on her food. “Yes, you can have some.” Millie tore off a small piece of meat and fed it to him before shifting her attention to the computer.
In between bites, she sorted through her emails. After finishing, she opened a new search screen and typed in “Southampton Strangler.” A screen full of stories popped up. Millie clicked through the first few and quickly realized they all said the same thing. The strangler had been quiet for five years and then, out-of-the-blue, started killing again.
She grabbed a sheet of paper and began jotting down some notes.
The first victim was Edith Branson, a sixty-four-year-old woman who lived in an upscale North Southampton neighborhood. According to the story, Edith had contacted the local authorities after spotting a strange man lurking in her gardens. Edith had also survived the strangler’s attack back in 2015.
The second victim was a uni student. The story suggested the authorities believed the strangler took her charm bracelet as a souvenir.
Millie remembered hearing about the third. It was a woman who lived in nearby Midanbury. She left home to walk her dog around dusk and never returned. They found her body in a nearby park and her poor pup was guarding it. One bright blue training shoe was missing and believed to have been taken by the strangler.
The most recent victim was reporter and socialite Clarissa Sinclair. There was no mention of any missing items but, similar to what Halbert had said, Clarissa had put up a fight and the authorities believed she’d injured her attacker.
Four women with no direct link between the victims. In fact, Millie wondered if perhaps Clarissa was never intended to be a victim, but had inadvertently placed herself on the strangler’s radar while snooping around and possibly uncovering his or her identity.
Millie shoved the chair back and carried Scout to the balcony. It was no surprise Edith Branson would be a target, particularly since she’d survived a previous attack.
The uni student and jogger were a mystery. Why them? There had to be a motive. Or did there? Millie knew that serial killers were also known to have randomly selected their victims, which was why the authorities had a tough time tracking them down.
Southampton Strangler Page 7
