by Dawn Brookes
“They don’t have them in the depths of Africa.”
Missing or choosing to ignore the sarcasm, Graham explained. “Oxygen concentrators are big beasts, about the size of a large portable air conditioning unit – they convert room air to concentrated oxygen. She uses nasal specula rather than a mask so that she can carry on as normal without constantly removing the mask. You will only need to see her if she develops a chest infection while you are on call or if anything goes wrong with the equipment. Call me if in doubt – understood?”
“Understood,” they replied in unison. The problems associated with a transatlantic crossing boiled down to the number of sea days if equipment broke down. They carried one concentrator and oxygen cylinders in the infirmary for emergencies.
“We also have a gentleman with lung cancer who’s joined us for what he says will be his final cruise, having been given only a few months to live. Gwen and I have met with him and we will continue to take the lead in his care, so call us if needed. I just hope the poor man survives the journey – he’s not in the best of health and I wonder if he fabricated the amount of time he has left when completing his medical questionnaire. However, it is what it is, and we will do our best.
“There’s a teenager with a broken leg – broke it playing football a few days before the cruise. He’s in plaster and may need one of you if the plaster needs replacing – he’s a low risk for thrombosis, but be on the lookout, just in case. One of the Russians, a Mr Sergei Markov, is diabetic and hasn’t brought enough insulin with him. He swears he did and it’s gone missing, but he only has a third of a bottle with him, so will need fresh supplies – I’ll leave that with you.
“Finally, another one of the Russians takes regular morphine tablets for chronic back pain. I’ve explained to him the importance of keeping supplies locked in his stateroom.” Graham got up from his chair. “Well that’s it from me. There are other passengers with medical conditions that are all on the computer if you get called out, but I thought I’d let you know about these five. I’ll see you this evening, then.”
Graham left the room.
“Do you have anything to report, Alex?” asked Gwen.
“No, most of the crew are in good health. Obviously they would be in better health if they didn’t drink quite so much, but what can I say? Christine, the perfume shop manager, is five and a half months pregnant, but there are no complications at present. She will leave us on our return to England. There’s the missing man who needs blood tests if he turns up, but that doesn’t seem likely.”
Alex got up and left the office. Neither of the medics had mentioned the late Erik Marinov.
Gwen continued the nurses’ part of the meeting, explaining to Lauren what would be expected of her from tomorrow. Sarah was pleased Lauren would no longer be shadowing either her or Bernard, thinking it might be easier to work with her from a distance.
At the end of the meeting, Gwen turned to Bernard.
“Bernard, please show Lauren where the insulin is and how to sign it out so she can take a supply up to Mr Markov.” She gave him a look of encouragement as he left with the enthusiastic Lauren trailing behind like a puppy dog.
“That should be that. He has the opportunity to bring an end to this awkward situation.” Gwen exhaled a deep breath as if remembering something. Sarah felt guilty about knowing Gwen’s secret. “I expect Bernard told you about an unfortunate relationship on my previous ship, and although different to this mishap – the eventual outcome amounted to the same thing. I just hope this girl takes no for an answer. Difficult relationships in the confined space where we all live and work together are not at all pleasant. I’m relying on you, Sarah, to do your best to get on with Lauren in spite of your friendship with Bernard. We can’t have factions.”
“I’ll try, but she hasn’t responded to ‘friendly’ yet.”
Gwen groaned. “Well let’s give it a go and see how it plays out. At least it’s only for a fortnight. I’ve never seen Bernard drunk so don’t understand how he managed to get into such a compromising state.”
Sarah had to admit this had bothered her too. She’d worked with Bernard for nine months prior to her leave and he’d always remained in control of his faculties. For a start, medical staff could be called upon to assist even when not on call, so she didn’t get it. Maybe he’d just let his guard down.
Gwen shuffled, waiting for a reply, staring at her, nonplussed.
“Sorry, I was miles away. I don’t get it either, but I’m certain it will never happen again. I’d better go; I’m meeting Rachel for tea.”
She omitted to say that Rachel was doing some sleuthing among the Russian contingent.
On her way out of the medical centre, Sarah almost crashed into Waverley. Then Lauren barged past her.
“See you later,” Sarah called, but got no reply.
Waverley looked bemused. “Is something wrong?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Anyway, you’re just the person. I wanted to have a word with you and your friend.”
“I’m on my way to meet her for tea,” Sarah replied.
“Could you both drop by my office afterwards? I’m sure she won’t keep herself out of our little mystery so we may as well compare notes.” He frowned, but couldn’t hide a smirk. “Your friend does seem to have a dog with a bone attitude.”
“Yes, it was the same at school. Rachel always uncovered wrong-doing. She put an end to a pocket money thieving racket by hiding out in the girls’ loos and filming the gang bragging about it. They targeted weak kids and threatened them. She’s always championed the underdog and detests bullies. I’m not surprised she’s ended up in the police force.”
“Well, well, well.” Waverly stroked his chin.
“Anyway, we’ll be there in an hour,” said Sarah before dashing off to change from her blue scrubs into a white uniform for the passenger decks.
Bernard came out of the medicine room and saw that Sarah had already left. Gwen called him into her office, pleased to see him smiling.
“I take it your smile means it went well,” Gwen said.
“Not really, she’s very angry and says it’s all my fault that she has fallen for me – she says I led her on. I did try to explain that my flirting is just my way, and it means nothing.”
“I expect that went down like a lead balloon!”
“How did you know? Yes, it seemed to make her angrier, and she gave me a ticking off.”
“So why are you smiling?”
“Oh,” he beamed, “that’s because she says nothing happened. She said I passed out and that she got into bed with me, hoping that it would happen this morning, but when she woke up, I was gone.”
Gwen sniggered, feeling pleased for Bernard. “At least there’s no real harm done. Well, let that be a lesson to you – cut out the flirting.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson, and she’s already told me I’m a huge disappointment to her, so thankfully she won’t be renewing her affections. I can’t wait to tell Sarah that I am still a faithful married man.”
At that point, his on-call radio signalled he was needed elsewhere.
“Go on, off with you.” Gwen couldn’t help chuckling again, pleased that a potentially sticky situation had been averted with the minimum of fuss. She was finally starting to feel happy after the heartbreak of her own relationship.
If only nothing had happened there, she thought as she remembered the heart-wrenching pain she’d experienced when transferring away from the only man she’d ever loved. Exhaling loudly, she turned towards the computer to create invoices for medical treatments administered this morning.
Chapter 17
Rachel made her way down to Creams patisserie and arrived at exactly the same time as Sarah.
“I can’t get over how lovely you are in your shiny white uniform.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Sarah replied. They hugged and walked into the small café together. There was a surcha
rge on food and drinks in Creams so it was quieter than many of the public eating areas. They sat down and ordered tea while looking at the menu.
“Are you going to eat?” Rachel asked.
“I’ll have something sweet. We had a working lunch during a team meeting.”
The waiter came over to take their orders.
“I’ll have a strawberry cheesecake, please, and tea,” said Sarah.
“Chocolate cake for me and filter coffee, please,” added Rachel.
As soon as the waiter had gone, the young women nattered about their day for a while and laughed a lot, something they always did when they were together. Once the food had arrived, and they were left to themselves, Rachel was keen to ask if there had been any developments in the case she was now informally investigating.
“Nothing further our end. Jefgeny is still missing. I bumped into Waverley on the way to meet you. He’s acknowledged that you’ll be looking into the Russians and wants us to stop by his office after tea for an information exchange.”
“Oh, that sounds interesting. I wonder if he has anything meaty to share. I’m not getting very far with the Russians, but I’ll share what I’ve discovered. Shall we do it all afterwards, then?”
“Yes, I’d far rather talk about trivia at the moment. It’s been quite a day.”
Rachel sensed Sarah had something on her mind, but knew that if her friend wanted to share it, she would. It’s probably something confidential to do with her work.
“Okay, trivia it is. I went to a wine tasting lesson today and discovered many things I never knew before, ignoramus that I am!”
“Come on, then, spill the beans – I thought you looked blurry eyed.”
Rachel laughed out loud. “The wine they got us to taste was pretty strong, and then I had a part-glass with Thomas and Boris afterwards – trying to get to know Boris, but our drink was short lived when the minders butted in. I’m not very good at lunchtime drinking.”
“There’s so much booze available on the ship, but officers have to watch the amount they drink, and our team has to be careful even when off duty as you never know when the next major emergency might occur.”
“This chocolate cake is scrummy,” said Rachel as she took a big bite.
They spent the next hour discussing wine tasting and chocolate before Sarah looked at her watch.
“I guess we should go see Waverley. I need to get back to the medical centre for early evening surgery afterwards, and then change into yet another uniform for formal night.”
The ship enforced an ultra-strict uniform policy for staff, and those allowed in the passenger areas wore different uniforms for different occasions. Sarah had told her previously that about a third of the crew never got to be in passenger areas at all. There were even different tiers of eating for those considered staff and those considered crew.
“Okay,” Rachel replied. “And on the way, you can remind me about who eats where.”
Before they left, Sarah signed the chit for payment. Rachel also signed as all her food and drink was free, courtesy of Queen Cruises.
They arrived at an office on deck three with a shiny bronze plaque on the door that read ‘Security Office’. Sarah knocked and entered. Rachel followed and noted how pristine it was, like everything else on the Coral Queen. There was a monstrous oak desk with a veneer so shiny Rachel could see her reflection.
Chief Security Officer Waverly was seated on a large black leather office chair which swivelled away from them while he spoke on the telephone. He acknowledged them with his hand, without looking, motioning for them to take a seat. There was a small settee on one side of the room and two comfy chairs with a round glass table at the centre. There was also a fixed chair opposite the large desk.
Sarah opted for the settee and Rachel joined her, realising that in spite of her dealings with Waverley on the previous cruise, she had never been inside his office. Sarah smiled at her and they waited for the chief to finish his telephone conversation.
As soon as he put the telephone down, he swivelled his chair back towards them and rose.
“Sorry about that. Can I get either of you ladies a drink?” He moved towards them and took one of the seats.
“No thank you, we’re good,” Sarah answered for both of them.
Rachel felt like she was sitting in the headmaster’s office at school waiting for Waverley to get to the point.
He looks tired, she thought, it can’t be easy trying to investigate a murder on board a cruise ship while also being responsible for the safety of over six thousand people and answerable to the captain on all matters of security.
“I’ll get straight to the point. First of all, Rachel – I realise you’re not a member of the security team and you ought not to be involved in this investigation at all. The only reason you are here is because experience tells me you won’t keep out of it.”
He smiled grimly.
“I have been doing some background checks on our Russian crew members, Erik Marinov and Jefgeny Popov. First, Marinov had no criminal record. His background was clean, and he was a model employee for three years – no girlfriends; no fallouts with his friends who, incidentally, speak highly of him. We can find no motive for anyone to want to kill him, except perhaps his roommate.”
He paused, allowing this information to sink in.
“Now to Mr Popov. He’s also unmarried, brought up in the USA and a US citizen. He has a background in engineering and both parents are dead – other than that his background is a bit sketchy, but nothing pointing towards being a killer.”
“If he was brought up in the USA, why couldn’t he speak English?” asked Sarah. “When I saw him on embarkation day, he used Erik as an interpreter.”
“That is odd. I don’t know, but I’ll certainly find out. Perhaps he was playing a joke on you.”
“Is it possible the two men were in a relationship?” asked Rachel.
“I wondered that, but Mr Popov has a girlfriend on board. She is Slovenian and works in the casino. She is obviously distraught at his disappearance, but says she hasn’t seen him since yesterday morning. I haven’t told her his roommate may have been murdered; she insists they were good friends and confirms what others have said: that Erik took Jefgeny under his wing ever since he joined the ship two years ago. By all accounts, they got on well, and all eight Russians working in engineering corroborate this. All the others are clean. I had expected nothing else, to be honest – our pre-employment checks are rigorous.”
Waverley didn’t hide his defensiveness at this point. It was clear he had hoped the murder would have been a falling out between the two crew members that ended with the death of Erik Marinov.
“What about the girlfriend?” Rachel enquired.
“Eva Sipka – she has a clean record. No-one with a criminal record may work in the casino. She and Jefgeny have been seeing each other for the past six months and are in a steady relationship. It also turns out Miss Sipka might be pregnant; she’s not yet had this confirmed by the medical team, but I have insisted she make an appointment to see Dr Romano for a pregnancy test and examination. As you can imagine, this has caused her even more distress.”
“Oh my goodness!” gasped Sarah. “That’s just what a girl needs – a partner who goes missing and a baby on the way.”
“Welcome back to the Coral Queen.” Waverley grimaced.
“Can I see a picture of the girlfriend?” Rachel asked.
Waverley walked over to his desk, fired up his computer and pulled up the record.
“Here you go, take a peek.”
Rachel and Sarah both looked at the image of a woman in her twenties with dyed blonde hair. She had green eyes and her face was thin with pronounced cheek-bones. “Thank you,” Rachel said and returned to the settee.
“There is something else.” Waverley’s tone turned more serious.
“What?” asked Rachel, noticing that he appeared unsure of whether to give them any additional information.
> “Someone ransacked Jefgeny’s room last night. It’s difficult to say whether the person or persons were looking for something or were opportunistic thieves. Both scenarios create problems for security. We have sealed off the room and changed the swipe code.”
“Was anything taken?”
“They took a watch and a radio, but we don’t know what else was there. We didn’t find his passport when we searched the room yesterday and we have not touched the room since.”
“What about CCTV?” asked Sarah.
“We don’t monitor the crew passageways. The crew need to let their hair down sometimes.”
He coughed and looked down at his shoes.
“Now we move on to the Russian party, although I can’t see how they can be involved in this matter at all.” He sounded frustrated. “But, I failed to follow your gut instinct last year, Rachel, and I do not want to make the same mistake. You understand I’m being over-cautious.”
Rachel understood his frustration, certain that Asimov and Boris would have no qualms about making life difficult if they imagined for a moment they were under any kind of investigation.
Waverley continued. “There are thirty-two members in the group, twenty-one men and eleven women. Eight of the women are clean, with one of those being a renowned international opera singer, a Miss Lucretia Romanov. I saw her myself in Verdi’s La Traviata a few years ago in St Petersburg.” Waverley blushed at the reminiscence.
“That’s Asimov’s girlfriend,” said Rachel.
Waverley coughed before continuing. “Anyway, two of the women have been fined for prostitution in the past, and one faced an assault charge after attacking her ex-husband’s lover with a cricket bat.”
“Nice,” remarked Sarah.
“They released her after the victim dropped charges.” Waverley coughed as per his habit, so Rachel guessed that something interesting was coming next. “Now for the men – it has not been easy to get much information about Vladimir Asimov, other than that he is a very rich man – self-made billionaire with a large empire. He is an ex-soldier who served in the Russian army during the cold war and had friends in the KGB. There have been rumours of links to industrial espionage, but nothing proven. There are also rumours his accusers tend to disappear, but as I say, these are rumours, and Russia sometimes thrives on disinformation and fake news.
