[Lady Justice 11] - Lady Justice and the Cruise Ship Murders

by Robert Thornhill

  The rain had been falling steadily all morning and passengers boarding the bus were irritating those already seated by shaking the excess water from their umbrellas and poking them with their tips as they passed by.

  Our tour guide was quick to point out that this was a normal day in Ketchikan, which was known as the wettest city in Alaska and in much of North America for that matter, with an annual rainfall of over twelve feet. It seemed to us that a foot of that fell during our brief stay in the city.

  Ketchikan, being the southernmost city in Alaska was one of the first stopping points for the prospectors heading to the gold fields.

  In the late 1890’s a booming business of saloons and brothels grew to satisfy the carnal needs of the gold-hungry travelers. At one time, it was reported that there were more than fifty establishments where travel-weary miners could get some TLC.

  As the bus passed over a bridge, the tour guide pointed to a path leading down to the famous Creek Street where most of the bawdy houses had been located. “That’s the ‘Married Man’s Trail’,” she said. “The men living up here on the hill would take this path down to Creek Street when they wanted to engage in some extracurricular activity.”

  An old man in his eighties a few seats in front of us blurted out, “Guess I’d better head down to Creek Street when we get back. Been looking for some ‘extracurricular activity’.”

  His wife, sitting next to him, punched him in the arm, “Shut up Earl. You wouldn’t know what to do with it if you had it.”

  That evoked a round of snickers from the passengers. Probably not the response Earl had hoped for.

  “Sorry, sir,” the guide said, “prostitution was outlawed in 1953, but I’m sure you could find a nice T-shirt.”

  After the city tour, we headed to Totem Bight State Park where we visited a Tlingit Indian clan house and saw totem poles carved by the Raven and Eagle clans. Each pole told a story with its intricate and sometimes grotesque carvings.

  As I stared at one pole, there was something familiar about it but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it --- then it occurred to me --- one carving in the pole looked exactly like Old Man Feeney, sitting on the can in bathroom #3 at the Three Trails! I made a mental note to ask him if by any chance he was part Tlingit. After further reflection, I thought better of the idea. It just wasn’t worth the hassle. *

  * See photo, page 217

  After the bus tour, we shopped the establishments along Creek Street, which in many ways was like Front Street on Maui. Souvenir shops, restaurants and jewelry stores lined the famous street. We heard from another passenger that there were over fifty jewelry stores in Ketchikan. I suppose that the fifty jewelry stores took the place of the fifty brothels that once drew travelers from afar. The thing that they had in common was that you could get screwed in either one.

  We all did the tourist thing, buying T-shirts and other worthless crap for our friends back home. After a relaxing lunch of fish and chips we headed back to the ship.

  We set sail at precisely three o’clock, but I missed the departure. I was zonked out in our cabin.

  Maggie woke me just in time to get showered and changed before we met our friends in the Rotterdam Dining Room.

  We had decided that Mark and Amy would join us as the extra couple at the six-seater table. We did this for two reasons --- so that we could keep an eye on them and to avoid having to spend another grueling evening with Paul and Irene.

  I had to give Den credit. He quite correctly observed that Ox and I were struggling with the fare offered by the featured chefs on the cruise, so he whispered quietly that he could probably come up with some New York Strip steaks and a baked potato. The guy saved our lives. While our wives were enjoying the Roasted Rack of Lamb with Smoked-Paprika Crust, we were gnawing on big chunks of real beef and a potato slathered in butter.

  I noticed Paul and Irene sitting at the table next to us. Her mouth was going non-stop and she didn’t even pause when she gave me a little finger wave. The entrees hadn’t yet been delivered, but I could see that her table companions already had that Irene-induced zombie stare. I was willing to bet that they’d be eating elsewhere tomorrow night.

  After the meal, we went to the ship’s theatre where we thoroughly enjoyed a Broadway-style production of singing and dance.

  In spite of the rain, it had been a good day.

  Although I couldn’t stop worrying about the creep stalking Mary, no one had tried to kill our new friends and we had loved our tour of Ketchikan.

  Maybe we were making too much of this ‘killing for gold’ theory and the poor folks in cabin #415 were really the targets in the first place.

  As I crawled into bed, I tried to put all of the bad stuff out of my mind. Here I was, on a fabulous ship, with the love of my life, in one of the most beautiful places on earth.

  Maggie crawled into bed and snuggled up beside me.

  With the warmth of her body and the gentle rocking of the ship, I was soon asleep.

  Luke and Gwen Larson had been shadowing the Stewarts all day. They had hoped to catch them alone in some deserted place, but four other passengers seemed to be stuck to them like glue.

  When the six of them boarded the ship in the afternoon, Gwen followed them to their cabins and returned to report their room numbers to Luke.

  “The big guy and his woman are in #399 and the old couple are in #401.”

  Luke punched the familiar number and waited.

  “Louis here. What do you have to report?”

  “We’ve been shadowing the Stewarts all day and they seem to have picked up some friends --- they’ve been inseparable. We thought maybe you should check them out --- cabin #’s 399 and 401.”

  Luke heard tapping in the computer, then, “Shit!” and more tapping.

  Louis French came back on the line. “We may have a complication. George and Judy Wilson are in #399 and they’re both cops. Walter and Maggie Williams are in #401 and Walter is a cop. I think we have to assume that the Stewarts found out about the murders in their old cabin, got freaked out and made contact with these people. They’re all from Kansas City.”

  “So what should we do?” Luke asked. “Gwen and I are no match for three cops.”

  “Then I must join you,” French replied. “You’ll be in Juneau tomorrow. I will take a day of leave from the University. Together, we’ll find a way to make this work. All we need is the right opportunity. Try to secure an extra seat for me on the shore excursions.”

  “Maybe we should just pack it in,” Luke offered. “We had our best chance and we blew it.”

  “Nonsense,” French replied. “There’s a stash of gold buried somewhere in Skagway, and by God, we’re going to get it!”

  John parked his car a block away from the Three Trails and watched the black and white that sat idling in front of the hotel.

  “Ain’t nobody gonna come wit dat cop sittin’ dere,” Willie said.

  “Just be patient and watch,” John replied.

  About a half hour later, the car’s lights flashed on, the siren blared and the cop pulled out into traffic.

  “See,” John said, “the guy was there as long as there was nothing more urgent happening, but he was obviously called away. Who’s watching the store now?”

  “Us and maybe that Bondell guy,” Jerry replied.

  “Exactly!” John said. “Time for us to get to work.”

  The three of them carried Annie to Mary’s front door and knocked.

  Mary opened the door just a crack. “What are you guys doing here and what the hell is that?” she asked, seeing the mannequin between the three guys. “You ain’t got nothing kinky in mind, I hope.”

  “No, nothing kinky,” John said. “Now let us in before someone sees us.”

  She opened the door and they all piled inside.

  “You still ain’t told me what you’re doing here.”

  “We’re going to get this Bondell guy out of your hair for good,” John replied, “and Annie’s goi
ng to help us.”

  “I hope this ugly bitch has a gun, cause I don’t have one no more. The cops took it.”

  “Not going to need a gun,” John replied. “We’re going to capture him with our wits.”

  “Then I hope they’re a lot sharper than I think they are or you’re gonna get us all killed!”

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” John said. “Just help me get the room set up.”

  They moved the TV set to the opposite end of the room so that it faced the door and placed Mary’s lounge chair in front of it.

  They sat Annie in the chair, but her head was below the headrest.

  “Nope, this won’t work,” John said. “Phone books! Do you have any phone books?”

  “Lots of ‘em,” Mary said, heading for a closet.

  Three phone books later, the back of Annie’s head could be clearly seen above the chair and she appeared to be watching the TV.

  “Now comes the tricky part,” John said. “Listen very carefully if you want to come out of this in one piece. The guy is going to sneak in and put a round or two in Annie. That’s when we come in. We will each be hiding behind something heavy, and one by one, we will draw his fire until his gun is empty. That’s when we’ll nab him.”

  “Uhhh, draw his fire?” Jerry asked. “You mean we’re going to make the guy shoot at us?”

  “That’s the plan,” John said. “The trick is to duck --- really fast!”

  “Duck!” Jerry said. “That reminds me of a joke. How do you get down off a duck?”

  He didn’t wait for a response. “You don’t! You get down off of an elephant!”

  “Jesus, Jerry! Can’t you ever be serious?”

  “Are you kidding? If I was being serious, I’d be scared to death!”

  “Nothing to be scared of. Just yell at the guy and then duck. I’ll go first, Willie second and Jerry third. When he’s out of ammo, we’ll have one more little surprise for him.”

  The room was pitch black except for the light from the TV where Jay Leno was entertaining the audience with his monologue.

  Benny Bondell peered through the window and saw the silhouette of the head of the woman that had killed his brother. It was payback time.

  He slipped his lock pick in the door and heard the ‘click’ as it popped open. He turned the knob and pushed. There was a low ‘creeeeek’ as the old door opened on its rusty hinges, but the laughter from the TV covered the noise.

  He slipped into the room, drew his pistol and fired two quick rounds into the back of the old woman’s head. He saw the head explode and knew that he had hit pay dirt.

  From somewhere to his right, a voice filled the room, “Is that all you’ve got, creep?”

  Bondell turned and fired in the direction of the voice.

  From the other side of the room came another voice, “Yo mama is an ugly ho!”

  He swung around and fired again.

  From the far end of the room, behind the TV, another, somewhat softer voice was heard, “A horse walks into a bar.”

  Bondell fired two shots into Jay Leno and the TV screen exploded into a million pieces.

  From his right side, the first voice spoke again, “How many bullets you got left, creep?”

  Bondell turned and pulled the trigger, but all he got was a ‘click’. Seeing that his gun was empty and that he was obviously outnumbered, he turned to run.

  “NOW!” John shouted.

  He and Willie pulled the wire that had been lying on the floor between them catching the foot of the fleeing Bondell.

  As soon as he hit the floor, the overhead light came on and he found himself staring at a mountain of a woman standing over him with a baseball bat.”

  “Got any more brothers? If you do, send them around and we’ll take care of them too!”

  One whack and Bondell was out for the count.

  John dialed 911 and soon sirens could be heard in the distance.

  John grimaced as he surveyed the decapitated Resusci Annie. “Leo’s not going to be happy about this! Anybody got an extra eight grand laying around?”

  Mary looked at her shattered TV. “Been wanting to get me a new TV anyway. One of them flat screen things.”

  Jerry rose up from behind the TV, “I didn’t get to finish my joke. A horse walks into a bar and the bartender says, ‘Hey buddy, why the long face?’”

  Willie said, “You all a bunch o’ damn fools --- but we did good, din’ we?”

  Mary grabbed him and gave him a big bear hug. “Yes, Willie, we did good!”

  CHAPTER 8

  Day #2-Juneau, Alaska

  When my eyes popped open, the first thing I did was peek out of the window. After a full day in rainy Ketchikan, I was afraid that with a second one I might start to mildew.

  To my great relief, the first rays of the sun were peeking over the snow-capped mountain range. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day.

  We weren’t scheduled to dock in Juneau until ten o’clock, so Maggie and Judy talked us into breakfast in the fancy Rotterdam.

  We hooked up with Mark and Amy and watched the glorious Alaskan scenery pass by as waiters in starched coats served us the exact same stuff that we had been getting for ourselves in the Lido Buffet --- but the girls were happy --- and as every guy knows, if the girls ain’t happy, nobody’s happy!

  The six of us were scheduled to board the busses for our shore excursion just minutes after the ship docked, so we scurried back to our cabins to prepare for the day’s adventure.

  When we entered, the cell phone was buzzing.

  I read the message, “New text.”

  I scrolled down and saw a very brief message from Captain Short, “Benny Bondell behind bars. Have a great trip.”

  I was about to relay the message to Maggie when the phone rang.

  “Walt, here.”

  “Hi, Sonny,” I just wanted to let you know that Benny Bondell is out of the picture so you can quit worrying about Mary. She’s fine.”

  “How? --- What happened? How did it go down?”

  “Long story, Walt. Don’t want to bore you. I know you’ve got lots to do. We’ll talk when you get back.”

  I could tell that he was stonewalling me.

  “Dad, I want to know ---.”

  He cut me off. “All you need to know right now is that everything here is just hunky-dory. We’re all fine. Now go have some fun!”

  I heard the ‘click’. He had hung up.

  I was definitely relieved that Bondell was no longer a threat to Mary, but now my curiosity was aroused. I was almost anxious to get home so that I could hear how Bondell was captured and by whom. Like Dad said, it was probably a long story and I was willing to bet that it was a doozy.

  As soon as the ship was docked, the six of us were herded, along with fifty other passengers, to another bus.

  The whole process of de-boarding and being directed to our busses reminded me of the old TV show, Rawhide.

  I could see the young Clint Eastwood as the cattle drive’s ramrod, Rowdy Yates, herding the cows along as Frankie Laine sang the theme song, “Move 'em out, head 'em up, head 'em up, move 'em on. Move 'em out, head 'em up: Rawhide!”

  I figured it was all part of the experience. If you don’t want to be herded --- don’t go on a cruise!

  Luke and Gwen Larson met Louis French in the parking lot where the busses were idling.

  “Sorry, Louis, but the excursion was sold out. We couldn’t get you a ticket.”

  “Probably just as well,” he replied, looking at the long line trying to board the bus. “With all of these people, our opportunities would probably be limited. Just keep an eye on them and give me a call when your tour is finished. The ship doesn’t leave port until ten-thirty tonight. We’ll get our chance.”

  The Larson’s nodded and fell in line behind the Stewarts.

  The first stop of our tour was the Macaulay Salmon Hatchery.

  I wasn’t exactly trembling with excitement over this stop. Maggie and I
had been to the trout hatchery on Table Rock Lake in Branson, Missouri, and I figured that if you’ve seen one hatchery, you’ve seen them all.

  A perky young guide who led us through the facility that was perched over the beautiful Sheep Creek met us.

  As we looked down into the swirling waters below, I could see huge salmon, weighing between five and ten pounds swimming upriver against the strong current.

  Our guide explained that most of these salmon had been reared at the facility and released, to spend anywhere from two to five years roaming the Pacific Ocean.

  At the appropriate time, when some magic thing in their DNA went off, they would return to exactly the same mountain stream where they had hatched, to spawn.

  After a harrowing trip up river against the current, battling bears, sea lions, seals, killer whales and, of course, man, the brave fish would spawn and then die. If these were humans instead of fish, their story would have made a fantastic romance novel.

  Next, we were off to the Mendenhall Glacier.

  It was a beautiful twelve-mile ride from Juneau to the glacier. We parked alongside at least two-dozen other busses. I later learned that a half million people visit the famous glacier each year. It looked like most of them were there that day.

  A fantastic visitor’s center was perched high above Mendenhall Lake, and on the far side of the lake, the massive 12 mile long glacier glimmered in the sun. Chunks of ice that had calved off of the glacier floated in the frigid water. *

  After touring the visitor center and snapping dozens of photos of the big ice cube, Mark and Amy wanted to take one of the half-dozen hikes that ran from the parking lot into the wilderness.

  The different trails took varying times to complete, from a half hour up to five hours. The Stewarts were disappointed to learn that the bus schedule would only allow for a half hour hike on the Trail of Time.

  As they headed off into the forest, Ox tapped me on the shoulder, “Shouldn’t one of us go with them?”