The Long Fall

by Daniel Quentin Steele

  The son of a bitch. He knew I wasn’t to let Jessica screw up her career to take some papers onto the ship. I pointed to the case containing the laptop.

  “Unzip and search it. You can look through the other although there shouldn’t be anything but clothes in there. You can pat me down if you want to.”

  She almost blushed, but just shook her head.

  “Now, if you’d said that that night at O’Brien’s....”

  “Can the smart comments and get what you need. And then get out, unless you want to spend a week at sea with me.”

  “That’s not fair, Bill. You know how long it’s been...?”

  “Go talk to Cameron.”

  “The bastard won’t bend. Sometimes I almost hate him.”

  “Take the situation in hand, so to speak.”

  She just blushed and started searching my suitcases. When she finished she had the paperwork on a dozen pending cases.

  “Have a good trip, Bill.”

  I gave her a sisterly kiss on the cheek.

  “Remember what I said about taking things in hand...”

  She gave me a little wave as she walked out the door.

  So the Big Man was serious about my taking time off. He might be just as serious about having me watched to make sure that I didn’t jump overboard. I walked into the interior of the ship, found an elevator and made my way to Deck Trois or Le Fleur and the purser’s office. After going through three junior officers I found myself talking to Alejandro Torres, Chief Purser.

  I asked him if we could speak in private.

  “Mr. – ah?”

  “Maitland, William Maitland.”

  “Mr. Maitland, I assure you we can discuss any questions in front of my staff.”

  “Señor Torres, I have been an attorney for nearly 20 years. I would like to discuss a matter of some sensitivity that may involve legal issues. Are you sure we can’t talk privately?”

  He just stared at me for a moment and said, “Everybody out. Out front. Mr. Maitland come back to my office.”

  We walked through a door into a small office and he seated himself behind a narrow desk.

  “Now what is this about, Mr. Maitland?”

  I sat down across from him.

  “You acted like you didn’t know who I was. Let me ask simply, and I trust you to tell me the truth. Have you received any instructions to have me watched, monitored or otherwise have someone baby-sit me?”

  He just stared at me for a moment, then said, “Do you have any idea how paranoid that statement sounds, Mr. Maitland?”

  Then, “Let me put it simply for you, Mr. Maitland. I honestly have no idea who you are, other than an American with an obviously over-inflated opinion of your importance.”

  I would have bet he was telling the truth.

  “Well, if I’ve made a mistake, I apologize. It’s just that...do you know any reason why one of your female staff officers would be monitoring or observing me?”

  He shook his head.

  “You’re here because you thought one of the female staff was staring at you?”

  “Well, actually, there’s more to it than that, but basically, yes.”

  “We are going to get up and leave now, Mr. Maitland. I hope you will have a pleasant trip, but all I can say to you about this matter is, as you Americans say, get over yourself. A female staff officer looked at you and you spun that into a conspiracy to have you watched on this cruise?

  “You realize how many reasons there might conceivably be for a female staffer to stare at you? Perhaps she wanted your body? Perhaps you reminded her of somebody. Let’s be reasonable. Go watch us set sail, enjoy the food and have a good time.”

  He stood up in dismissal, adding, “And if you should happen to see this young lady again, why not simply ask her why she was staring at you?”

  If it was possible to feel any more stupid, I don’t how it would be possible. But as I walked out of the office, I still knew that she had been staring at me. There had to be a reason. It would probably eat at me for the rest of the cruise until I found out why.

  I wasn’t really that curious about seeing the ship sail out so I prowled the ship for a few hours, checked out the casino, the pools on Deck Quatre, the theaters for live and canned entertainment on the next floor up, the restaurants on the fourth, fifth and sixth decks and the gym on the seventh deck.

  Then I went back to my room on the eighth and highest deck and checked out the bar, which had several bottles of Cognac, that probably retailed for several hundred dollars easy and a Napoleon Brandy that I knew sold in specialty stores for $500.

  What the hell. If the Big Man was so intent on getting me away from my old life, I might as well go whole hog. I opened up the Brandy, poured two fingers into a crystal goblet and sniffed it for a little while before letting it slide down my throat. I generally prefer Bloody Marys, Goldschlager, Vodka or Tequila if I’m feeling adventurous, but I have tried Brandy before. For the sheer sensual pleasure of a liquor sliding down your throat, to my mind no other liquor comes close.

  I guess I drank another couple of fingers, then another and just had to try the round crimson bed under a circular ceiling mirror that was just slightly smaller than some Delaware counties. When I opened my eyes again it was 9 p.m. by my watch and the ship was swaying enough for the pitch and sway to be noticeable. The meteorologists had been correct about the heavy weather we were heading into.

  I was wearing slacks and a light short sleeve shirt but with the weather I figured it would be cool outside so slipped the shirt off and put on a black turtleneck. I think that made me look a little more French. I made my way to Le Champagne on Deck Cinque where a sign in ornate letters told me Le Champagne was located.

  On most cruise ships it would be a pizza gallery, but here they had platters of thick cut ham, chilled oysters, and cheeses ranging from simple goat cheeses to Beaufort, Abondance, Reblochon, and Vacherin.

  I ate one slab of ham, a half dozen oysters and sampled a small amount of four or five cheeses. I knew I was going to have to work out at least an hour at the gym, but it was worth it. Nothing I’d tasted was less than fantastic, which I should have expected. The French might be opinionated assholes in most areas of life, but they know how to eat.

  As I was popping an oyster into my mouth doused with hot sauce, I saw a slim brunette figure passing the door into Le Champagne. I was up and out before I realized what I was doing but by the time I got there, she was gone. There were at least three routes she could have taken, and it might not have been my mystery woman.

  I made my way to the gym and despite the hour – it was nearly 10 p.m. - it was still attended by one male staffer. I received a thick, plush towel and put it aside to work for an hour on machines that were close to the ones I was familiar with. After three and a half months of virtually non-stop workouts, it felt good to lift and pull, to thrust and maneuver weights until my muscles ached. I realized I really did miss it now when I didn’t have a chance to work out every day. I took a shower and dressed and walked up to the top deck.

  I opened the door to the outside railing. Wind driven rain stung my face and eyes. It was cold and hard. I pushed the door open and stepped outside.

  The wind was strong enough to push me back but I made my way to the railing. I held tight and looked down nearly seventy feet into the dark surface of the ocean. White caps raced by underneath me as the ship rose and fell.

  There was no moon and stars because of the storm, but the white foam carried by the waves was clearly visible and there seemed to be a faint phosphorescence on the water itself.

  I should have gone back inside because I was now almost completely soaked through to the skin, my face and bald scalp almost sore from the battering they were receiving. But I couldn’t make myself move. I wondered if I had in my entire lifetime seen anything so beautiful.

  I noticed that there was a tower-like structure toward the front of the ship. I had been there earlier. It was only accessible by the six
th deck, but there was a relatively small lounge there that a crew member had told me was generally off limits to all but special guests.

  It opened to a railing almost directly across from me. It took me a little while to make out the figure in the darkness leaning against the railing and looking across the expanse of a hundred feet toward me.

  Even in the darkness, I could tell that it was a slender figure. When the door opened behind it for a moment and someone stuck their head out to address the figure, I saw it limned in the escaping light. There was enough light for a moment to make out her features and that blue and gold uniform covered by a transparent raincoat.

  In that moment her eyes gleamed in the light and I knew it was my mystery woman. She stared at me across the expanse. It was probably my imagination, but before the door was closed leaving her blanketed in darkness again on the railing, I thought she smiled.

  We stood on our separate decks, rising and falling with the tides, and it seemed time had simply stopped. I don’t know how long I stood there, but it felt like I had left behind everything I had known in my world. My father, my job, my wife, my children. There was only the sea and that dark figure standing across the way from me.

  Then she turned away from the railing, opened the door showing me her dark hair cut short at the base of her neck, and the door closed, the light vanished and she was gone.

  I went back to my palatial room and was unconscious before my head hit the goose down-stuffed pillow.

  Saturday, July 16, 2005 – 10 A.M.

  The next day I slept till 10 a.m. and thus missed the formal breakfast and our arriving at Key West. I headed by Le Champagne and grabbed a slice of goose liver pate spread on a water cracker which probably contained about three million calories

  I had less than no desire to see Key West again, which I’d been to with Debbie and the kids twice over the years so I stayed on the ship. I would have headed for the casino except that I realized it was closed while we were in port. Just as well. When we sailed out again I ventured into that dangerous ground and managed to lose $500 in less time than it takes to say that.

  While we remained in Key West, I visited one of the entertainment centers and watched three newlywed couples humiliated by sexually explicit, allegedly funny questions from a panel of recreation staff members, watched a new release Bollywood movie with dubbed dialogue, worked out for an hour in the gym and finally wound up at my first formal supper seating. By that time the ship was readying to sail toward Nassau.

  I was seated next to a single lady, a redhead with small breasts that still managed to almost fall out of the nearly non-existent top to a brilliant blue dress. She wore a sapphire necklace with a single burning blue gem centered between her breasts inevitably forcing your eyes to settle on those breasts. She smiled at me a lot and I tried to smile back.

  There was a couple in their 70s celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary on a voyage paid for by all of their seven children, and 35 grown grandchildren. And a pretty young blonde with a nice body dressed in a relatively demure yellow blouse and skirt with her husband, a tall sandy-haired kid who was drooling over the redhead’s exposed breasts and didn’t make much attempt to hide it.

  The blonde kept staring at me and finally halfway through the second course said, “You’re Mr. Maitland, aren’t you?”

  I shrugged and said, “Yes, ma’am. You must have seen the newspaper story.”

  She looked puzzled and said, “My husband, Andy and I just came back from a business trip to Chicago before my daddy paid for us to go on this cruise. I’m afraid I didn’t see the story. But I know you. I’ve seen you around the courthouse and I’ve even seen a few trials you argued. I saw the one about those slime balls that shot that little boy.

  “Sorry, I’m forgetting my manners. I’m Cyndi Mathews and this is my husband Andy. My brother-in-law, Lyle, does some volunteer victim advocate work around the courthouse and pointed you out to me one time. You are a very good lawyer.”

  She poked her husband in the side and said, “Say hello, Andy,” and he reluctantly tore his eyes away from the redhead’s breasts, giving her a little wink before he did so. The redhead blushed, the blush extending all the way to her nipples.

  “You have seen Mr. Maitland in action, then, Ms. Mathews?”

  I looked up and saw my mystery woman standing behind me. I turned in my chair so I could look at her directly. She wore the blue and gold again with a small fleur-de-lis emblem centered over her left breast, which gave me an excuse to inspect her. Sitting it was hard to tell, but I thought she was five six or maybe five seven. Her breasts weren’t large, but they were definitely there filling out her uniform.

  She had a broad forehead, a strong nose, wide-set eyes and lips that were full and red. Classic features. Her hair was so black it had a blue sheen to it. I looked at her eyes for a moment and couldn’t quite figure out their color. All in all, she was a beautiful woman, so why the hell had she been staring at me and stalking me?

  “Pardonnez-moi....Pardon me for eavesdropping. I have an...interest...in the law and when I heard your comments I couldn’t resist intruding. You said Mr. Maitland is a barrister in Jacksonville? Does he practice in the tribunal de grande instance or cour d’assises? I’m sorry. Mr. Maitland, are you a civil lawyer or prosecutor?”

  Her English was more crisp and precise than my own, but there was an indefinable French accent.

  “Cour d’assises, Miss. I handle mostly capital cases, although I’ve done rape, robbery, almost every kind of terrible thing that people do to each other.”

  She gave me a funny look.

  I answered her unspoken question.

  “I’ve been to France a couple of times for legal conferences and Interpol cases that intertwined between France and the U.S. I know a little bit about your system of justice.”

  Answering her earlier question, Cyndi said, “Oh, yes, he is very good. He is forceful and clear in his arguments and he makes juries think about the victims in these crimes. A lot of times prosecutors and everybody else seems to forget about the victims. Mr. Maitland never does.

  “Although,” she said with a small frown, “I didn’t recognize you right away with your head shaved. And, you just don’t look the same. It’s hard to pin down, but you look like another person almost entirely.”

  “Yes,” my mystery woman said, “Mr. Maitland is certainly a striking man.”

  “You have the advantage of me, Miss. You know me, obviously, but I don’t know your name or anything about you. That hardly seems fair, does it?”

  She held a slim hand out to me. I took it and shook it.

  “I am Aline des-Jardins, Mr. Maitland. I am one of three Assistant Cruise Directors. I tend to spend my time ensuring that passengers with special needs have those needs met.”

  “Sounds like an interesting job.”

  “All you’d have to do is show up at my cabin and you’d meet my needs,” Andy said, laughing. Cyndi Mathews stared at her husband with a gaze that should have stripped the flesh from his bones but he just ignored her.

  I noticed he was on his fifth or sixth mug of some heavy brown German beer. He continued to stare at Aline in a way that made the old expression about stripping somebody with your eyes a reality.

  Aline looked at him the way some women would look at a roach crawling across the floor and said, “I would imagine your pretty wife should be able to meet those needs.”

  Andy was about to say something but this time he caught his wife’s glare and thought better of it.

  She turned those eyes on me and said, “I have to go, but I hope we will meet again during this cruise, Mr. Maitland. Feel free to call on me if I can be of any service to you.”

  I hadn’t let go of her hand and I held it as she started to turn. She looked at me with an expression I couldn’t read. I noticed that a diamond shone in a ring on her left hand, on the wedding finger.

  “Have we met before, Ms. des-Jardins?”

  She shook her
head, saying, “No.”

  “I just thought, from the way that you...looked at me this afternoon when we were leaving that you might have recognized me from somewhere.”

  She gave me what could only been described as a cool look and said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was inside preparing for the ship’s departure as we left. I never came out. You must have mistaken someone else for me.”

  I let her hand go.

  “I’m sorry. I must have made a mistake. Yes, I hope we’ll see each other again.”

  “It’s not that big a ship, Mr. Maitland. Goodbye.”

  I ate the rest of my meal without really tasting it. I know there was conversation around me and I must have responded to it, but I can’t remember what was said. At some point the older couple excused themselves, the redhead finally gave up after exchanging some meaningful glances with Andy and then Cindy smiled at me and told me she and Andy were going to go up on deck. The rain had stopped and it was a beautiful night.

  I sat alone at the table and drank coffee for another half hour. The thing that kept running through my head was, Jesus, you are a stupid fuck. A very beautiful, married woman is not going to be staring at a middle aged, bald man being dumped by another beautiful woman.

  It’s not going to happen and even if anything could happen, she’s married. Unless she wears the ring to scare off guys from hitting on her.

  But she had lied. I had been in the business of reading people for too long. She had been cool, but lying. I wondered again if Edwards had possibly worked out a private deal with a staff member, like her, to just keep an eye on me without her superiors knowing about it. I wouldn’t put it past him. But since I couldn’t subpoena and put her under oath, I didn’t know how I’d ever find out for sure.

  On the other hand, the more I thought about it, what did it matter. Let her watch. It would probably be as exciting as watching paint dry.

  I eventually went up to Deck Sept. It was about 9 p.m. but there were still plenty of people out and about. I walked forward to the bow where a few other people leaned against the railing as the ship gently rose and fell, cutting through the waves at a fairly good clip