by David Evans
Sebastian re-joined the ship, and realised after several hours that something was amiss. The entire detail of the previous crew had been reassembled, an event that none of them had ever seen before. You could work with the same cruise line operator for life and not see a crew mate for years due to rotation.
Before too long, it became apparent that they had been gathered together intentionally, as the captain gave them the news that there was an investigation team on board who would be joining them on the week-long cruise from Genoa to Istanbul.
Prior to the Liverpool Airport incident and Hoagie’s death, Cutler had assigned Stahmer as lead investigator, and Ghislaine Lyman as his translator, due to the multitude of nationalities among the crew. Cutler realized that most would have English as a second language, but some of the ship’s maintenance crew and seamen, and some of the housekeeping staff, would have limited or no English.
During the flight to Genoa, Ghislaine refreshed her knowledge of Filipino, as Fabienne’s research indicated that forty percent of the crew were from the Philippines. This was mainly due to their hard-working nature, but also, they were some of the cheapest labour on the planet.
Stahmer and Ghislaine landed at 9 am, and the Classical Canta Libra was not due to leave its berth in Genoa until 6 pm the following day. The chauffeured Mercedes met them at the main entrance to the airport, and was soon navigating the narrow streets to their hotel. No sooner had they settled into their lush single rooms than Sean Wright called from reception.
Without delay, they were once again circumnavigating the streets of Genoa in the same Mercedes, and under a bright blue and cloudless sky they entered the dock area. They proceeded into the depths of the dockyard until they arrived at a shed; to Stahmer, it looked like an old storage shed that had not been used for many years due to the lack of repair.
They entered the dimly lit building, and Stahmer could see it was basically a ship repair facility used for stripping down parts of marine machinery for reuse on vessels in the fleet of cruise ships owned by the cruise line. Propped up by a wooden jib in the middle of the building was the burnt-out wreckage of what was left of the lifeboat.
Although the roof had had transparent sheeting built into it at intervals, this had long ago become unfit for purpose, after years of damage from acidic rainfall, eliminating the light they once offered.
Stahmer asked Sean Wright to organize some task lighting so he could carefully inspect the wretched craft before him. Within a few minutes, several high-powered halogen lamps were put in place, and the area around the craft was instantly illuminated.
Stahmer had brought along his investigation kit, which included flashlights, evidence containers, a measuring laser, nylon bags, evidence tags, labels, disposable gloves, camera, tape recorder, video recorder, dust mask and respirator, and two white paper overalls for Ghislaine and himself.
Over years of investigating incidents, Stahmer had developed a fixed routine. First, he made a preliminary scene assessment to determine the extent of the damage, proceeding from areas of least damage to areas of greater damage.
Over the next few hours, Stahmer sketched, photographed, and videotaped what was left of the lifeboat. He spoke into a tape recorder of his findings, and Ghislaine took down specialized instructions that would be used by Fabienne in analysing the data. Stahmer’s skills only went so far, and like any investigation, it would take a team of experts to get anywhere near the truth.
For six hours, Stahmer clambered in and out of the boat. From the case he had brought along with him, he extracted a laser distance measuring device, amongst other vital investigation equipment, the most important of which were the large and small sterilized nylon bags and containers. He placed samples into the bags and containers of fibreglass, engine parts, and the most crucial piece of evidence that was recovered: the remains of a flare from inside the engine compartment.
“I thought there had been a previous investigation into this fire?” Stahmer asked, directing the question to Sean Wright.
“There was a cursory investigation. I’m the first to admit, not an entirely thorough investigation,” he said.
“Well, that may well be an exaggeration. Most of the evidence for surface fire has been lost in the sinking and subsequent retrieval of the lifeboat. But there’s still evidence of the craft that is intact. On the documents you have provided, the only objective evidence is the post-mortems, which show all the deaths are down to smoke inhalation and burns. Written descriptions of the craft are incomplete; there are no sketches noting burn patterns or ignition point. There is neither photographic evidence nor any meaningful scientific analysis.”
“We are quite aware of the shortcomings of the previous investigation and apologize for the lack of the evidence you have discussed. But that is why you are here, Mr Stahmer, to get to the bottom of this,” Sean Wright explained.
“Sherlock Holmes once said that many types of investigations are susceptible to prejudgment, but few as often as fire scene investigations. They are destructive by nature, and basically destroy the very evidence needed to identify the cause. However, compound this with the lack of care by the initial investigators, which may have caused cross-contamination. Items may have been removed and not logged down, and the clothes, or what was left of them, have been destroyed!” Stahmer retorted.
Sean Wright reddened slightly. “Can you deduct anything from what you have seen, Mr Stahmer?”
“Well, it’s far too early to tell, and I have to have these items shipped back to Geneva for forensic analysis before I can conclusively give you an answer. However, I can tell you I have located where the fire started, and the most likely ignition source. I found tiny pieces, that resemble parts of what appears to be a parachute flare, embedded in metal. Also very telling is that the extinguishers are still in place, meaning no one had time to fight the fire; it was catastrophic and quick. I’m pretty certain this is an act of sabotage, rather than an electrical or cigarette fire, as your internal investigation reported, so we’re probably looking at multiple cases of homicide.”
“How do you know the flare wasn’t set off accidently and this caused the fire?”
“Because the metal the flare was embedded in was the interior of the fuel tank.”
“In the fuel tank?” Sean Wright asked, incredulously.
“Exactly. Diesel does not ignite readily, if at all. It is the vapor which ignites; but when it burns, it burns fiercely. You state you only have a minimum amount of diesel in the tanks, to minimize fires, but it is exactly what you should not do, as you have maximum room for the vapours to ignite. The only reason we have anything left of the boat is that when the plastic in the hull melted, the craft sank quickly, dowsing the flames.”
“The flares we use have to be manually set up and connected for them to operate.”
“The flares you use have a switch on the bottom, which releases a cap and completes a circuit. If the circuit is set a millimetre apart it will not fire, but if you rig it so they come into contact, you have an ignition source. Even the movements of the waves beneath the boat could set off the flare. But like I said, it is a hypothesis at the moment, and we can test this once we get some physical evidence back to our laboratories in London.”
Sean Wright sighed, as this was obviously not going to be good news, and he was due to report to the board that very evening, followed by updates each night as the investigation continued.
Following the discussion with Wright, Stahmer patiently laid out all the evidence on the shed floor, and after instructing Ghislaine in the art of photography, she catalogued the parts to ensure a chain of evidence was completed. Stahmer crept back into the craft again to study the smoke patterns on the areas of the hull which remained intact.
Later that evening, Stahmer had just begun to devour his stuffed mushroom appetizer. Ghislaine, who had opted for the calamari, handed him the mobile phone that had vibrated to life in her small black bag. Stahmer listened intently to what Cutler was tell
ing him, and once the conversation ended, so did his appetite, as he moved his plate aside.
It was clear to Ghislaine that the news was not good, but she had not expected it to be so bad.
During the first months of MIDAS, all the team had gathered and had shared a large riverfront house in Everglade City. They had all trained together, devised the protocols together, and eaten each meal together. Undeniable friendships had been forged within this month, and in one or two cases, even more.
The shock of Hoagie’s demise brought Ghislaine to tears, as she sat at the table, and Stahmer related what little he knew. She shook her head, as the waiter offered to pour her more of the finest of clarets. Stahmer stood and put his arm around her in a fatherly manner and escorted her out quickly from the prying eyes of the other diners.
Drawn from the lack of sleep and fountain of tears for a man she had only just come to know, she tried to figure out why Hoagie’s death had hit her so hard. She felt MIDAS was a family, it was like losing a brother.
By morning, she had shed her last tear, as she joined Stahmer in the Mercedes. They headed with their suitcases to the Classical Canta Libra. They sat in silence on the short journey to the ship, Ghislaine reminiscing about her brother, and Stahmer thinking deeply about his departed, beloved wife.
Once aboard the vessel, they were met by the captain, who had been informed he was to give them every assistance. He introduced Stahmer and Ghislaine to the officers first, and then several mass briefings and introductions to the rest of the crew, hospitality staff, and entertainers.
Sebastian had attended the final briefing of the day and looked up at the stage in the theatre at the investigators. His first thought was not about the net being trawled too close to home, as he was certain he had covered his steps. His mind drifted, he thought how lovely the female investigator’s hair shone so temptingly with the backlight, and how he would dearly love to rip it out, a strand at a time. But it was pure fantasy, he knew; he would have to curtail his desires, at least until he was off this ship. He was also aware that inviting outside investigators onto the ship was a first; it was the general agreement among the crew that someone must have sabotaged the lifeboat.
Sebastian would have to find another cruise line to work, no matter the outcome of the investigation. He was too close to this, and investigations were not good for business.
Jan Bjork, the ship’s Norwegian captain, was as good as his word. He allocated the pair of investigators the unused conference room as their hub for interviews. They sketched out timelines and spider graphs to lay down a basis to start the investigation. All their notes, drawings, speadsheets went back via secure laptops and satellite phones to Fabienne back in Geneva.
Standard procedure for the closed-circuit television revealed that they only recorded in certain areas, and on a twenty-four-hour re-record system. Other cameras were for monitoring in real time, and the captain admitted this was very seldom, as the mainly ex-army security staff had other duties to undertake. The captain did, however, have the foresight to ensure the digital images caught on the CCTV after the lifeboat incident from all recordable cameras was saved to an encrypted file on his computer, which he now gave to Stahmer.
Stahmer copied the images to his laptop and uploaded the unedited file to Fabienne’s master computer in Geneva, for it would be she who analysed the pictures. The time-consuming interviews of crew and officers took days. Each night, Stahmer uploaded the oral recorded statements of the day from the crew. Fabienne had created a programme that would transcribe the interviews in seconds and crossmatch the statements to compare any inconsistencies across everyone’s statements. Stahmer had established that the lifeboat could only have been sabotaged the night before it exploded. It had been used as a tender the previous afternoon, and had been under constant watch the following morning, as the ship’s painters had been plying their trade on balustrades beside the lifeboat station.
Fabienne gave her software programme the name Speedy Gonzales, after a cartoon character she had watched as a child. The software had been adjusted by Fabienne to identify where a person had been the previous evening from the individual’s statements, cross-reference the person’s alibi to others that had been in the same area, and then cross-match to the CCTV, as well as to each and every person’s photograph, as supplied by Basmati at the beginning of the investigation. It took more time at Stahmer’s end to upload the files than it took Speedy Gonzales to work its magic. Speedy was always the fastest person around, hence the name for the software.
Stahmer knew he would not discover who the perpetrator was in that week. His scope for the week was to interview all 1,025 employees and artists. The captain wanted to restrict interviews to ten minutes per person, Stahmer rejected the time restraints. Both he and Ghislaine worked nineteen hours a day, interviewing and compiling the statements, and after dinner was brought to them in the conference room, Ghislaine would use her translator app on her iPad to confirm the meaning of some of the Latvian and Filipino words that she had not clearly understood during the interviews. Stahmer would upload the files. The last job was to download statements of the interviews Ghislaine had completed.
By the time they had berthed back at the home port of Genoa, they had only two more interviews to undertake, one of which was with Sebastian.
Stahmer found him intriguing and arrogant, as he switched between eight different languages to see if he could catch out the translator. Stahmer told him on four occasions to keep it in English to save time, but to no avail.
Most of the men they had interviewed had kept their gazes normally between Ghislaine’s cleavage, but Sebastian was different; he seemed to look at her hair, Stahmer established, as the air conditioning blew strands back and forth across her face, and his eyes appeared to be following the flow.
But in the end, it was an interview like all the rest; fact finding. Kipling’s five little soldiers: where, what, how, why and when.
Ghislaine did remark at the end of the interview that she found Sebastian strange, and his gaze uncomfortable, and commented that she thought he was wearing some kind of wig.
Sebastian’s interview lasted one and a half hours. Like many others, he had been a little strange, but none of his answers pointed a finger directly at him. While he was listed as a person of interest , he joined a list of theirteen of his crew mates.
Stahmer and Ghislaine collected their interview notes and moved on to their next interviewee Ricky Villa, a dancer from Brazil, who neither looked at Ghislaine’s hair or bust, just his own fingernails, his hands, and when possible, other parts of his body, to confirm his own beauty.
With their work on board complete, Stahmer and Ghislaine held a two-hour debriefing with Sean Wright and the captain, explaining that most of the work would now be undertaken in the Geneva office where they had compiled the data. With the help of Speedy Gonzales, they would now go through an elimination process. While making no promises to identify the perpetrator, they could certainly eliminate a good majority of the employees.
Stahmer informed Sean Wright that they had ruled out any involvement by the cruise passengers, as Fabienne had told them the previous night that the closed-circuit television images on one camera had been wiped. Secondly, the closed-circuit television room was deep in the bowels of the ship, and in staff-only areas, with a key or fob access only. It was someone who worked the Classical Canta Libra on board.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Several days after Hoagie was killed, Cutler had turned up, having sought solace in a bottle of bourbon and Cathy’s bed in Seattle. Cutler had lost agents before, and no doubt would lose them again, but Hoagie’s demise hit him hard, as he had taken him off the reservation. Cathy had put him on a plane to Miami and spoken with Cheryl to ensure he was picked dup at the airport. She worried he was about to regress to the months he spent grieving for his sister and parents. Her strategy was that his colleagues would be feeling upset, so he would have to pull himself together to support th
em.
Cutler felt as though he was six years old, as he sat uneasily in the soft leather chair. Cheryl Ross sat across the office from him, leaning forward, trying to understand the implications of what she had just heard. The atmosphere was dark and electric, which mirrored the weather that day in Everglade City.
The conversation had been long and drawn out. Cheryl had a hundred and one questions as to why Cutler had omitted to tell her he had carried on investigating the Werner affair after he had left the Secret Service. They were supposed to be partners, and partners do not act like that, she had reprimanded.
The matter of the set-up money for MIDAS was not mentioned, as Cutler did not want to involve her in any future litigation if it ever got out. Plus, he was taking enough flak for one day; deservedly, he thought. Cheryl’s anger did not improve when he told her he had used the Geneva office to assist in surveillance.
Then his phone vibrated. He looked down at it and saw Cortez’s identification appear on the phone. He looked at his phone and then glanced at Cheryl and shrugged his shoulders.
Cortez spoke only two words, “Code Blue.” They had set up a code system beforehand. In essence, Code White was, ‘I need you here quickly.’ Code Green was, ‘Everything is okay.’ Code Blue was, ‘Get here as fast as you can, and don’t come alone.’
Cutler clicked off the phone just as the thunder and lightning filled the room, and the constant splatter of rain began to pour from the heavens.
“I know I haven’t been totally honest, and I do regret that. I like to think I was protecting you from it. But after Hoagie, maybe I have been misleading myself, as well as everyone else.”
“If you have an open case it is our case, not just yours. Do you think I would have tried to stop you?” Cheryl probed, during their first argument together.
