by Dawn Brookes
“The one on the right is Jefgeny. Do you agree?”
Sarah took the photo. “Yes, the red hair is a giveaway, and the woman has red hair too. I wonder who the others are.”
Rachel looked at the picture again. “The other man looks familiar, but I can’t place him. He’s obviously the woman’s husband or partner because they’re holding hands.”
“Perhaps they are Jefgeny’s family or friends. The woman could easily be his sister,” suggested Sarah.
“But why hide the photo?” Rachel was preoccupied, playing with the old piece of American newspaper in her hand when the headline jumped out at her.
PROMINENT BUSINESSMEN FOUND GUILTY. Two key witnesses go into witness protection after giving evidence in data theft trial.
Rachel skimmed the article, describing a trial involving a conspiracy to steal plans of a driverless car blueprint from Future Motors, a major company in the USA. The article revealed that a man called Marian Krokowsky, an industrial engineer, and a Russian scientist named Jerzy Bobrinsky had entered witness protection. The US granted Krokowsky citizenship, and Bobrinsky defected. The prototype blueprint was worth an estimated one billion dollars, and Krokowsky and Bobrinsky had revealed the names of two prominent US senators, a US industrial espionage gang leader and his son, along with four Russian businessmen and politicians. The police had intercepted the handover, thanks to information provided by Krokowsky and Bobrinsky, resulting in four of the men being jailed for thirty years each. Two of the Russians working at the Russian embassy had had diplomatic immunity and were deported back to Russia. The rest were given jail terms of various lengths.
Sarah read the article over Rachel’s shoulder. “Blimey! This is bigger than we imagined.”
“Yes, I suspect that Krokowsky or Bobrinsky took on the new name of Jefgeny Popov, which is why you and Waverley had so little information about his past. Krokowsky, probably, as he was the industrial engineer. The man and woman in the picture must be related to Jefgeny, and it may be all he has left of his past. If Jefgeny is in witness protection, he would have had to sever all links with family. What a comedown, though, from industrial engineer to this.”
Rachel looked around the room.
“Perhaps it’s where he felt safe, and at least he was still using his engineering skills, getting three square meals plus full board and lodgings with a salary on top. If you think about it, a cruise ship is a great place to remain anonymous.”
“Someone found out, though, and killed his friend.”
“Do you suppose they were trying to frame him?”
“Or maybe Erik was killed by mistake.”
“We have to tell Waverley, but I’m likely to lose my job for breaking ship’s rules.”
“I agree, we do need to tell Waverley. Can I sleep on it, Sarah? I want to think it through some more, and I’ll work out a way of getting Waverley to show me this room without involving you. I want to try to keep you out of it.” Rachel placed the photo back inside the paper and folded it up, after taking photos of all the evidence on her mobile phone. She placed the frames back on the floor where she had found them.
Sarah checked the corridor again, and they made their way swiftly back upstairs to her room. Rachel changed her clothes and hugged her friend.
“I’ll work something out. It could still be a murder/suicide with no connection to Jefgeny’s past.” She sounded more reassuring than she felt.
“Thanks, Rachel, but if not, I’ll just have to face the consequences. Waverley needs this information in case there is a connection.” Sarah’s eyes filled up and Rachel was ashamed at having dragged her into this.
“Yes, he does, but there will be a way of telling him without involving you, I’m sure.”
Rachel left her friend, determined to protect her somehow.
What the heck is going on? Where are you, Jefgeny Popov?
Day 4
Chapter 27
At one stage during the night, Rachel could hear shouting in the corridor, but it settled down quickly. Restless at the startling discovery in Jefgeny’s room, she pressed the button on her phone to check the time and groaned: 3am.
Turning over to get a drink of water, she heard someone trying the door of her room. Rachel leapt out of bed and raced to the door, peeping through the spyhole. The dark-brown hair of a man’s head was just visible as he swiped the door and pressed the handle, but Rachel always double locked so no-one could get in. She frantically tried to control her breathing while watching the handle move again.
The man swiped repeatedly while she slowly took off the double lock and pulled the door open. Seeing the look of surprise on his face, she squared up to him.
“Who are you?” she demanded. He looked familiar, but appeared to be drunk.
“Sorry, I must have the wrong room,” he slurred and staggered.
“Yes, you have,” said Rachel, turning to shut him out. Before she had a chance to move away, the man put his foot in the door. Grabbing her, he spun her backwards, holding a knife to her throat. It all happened so quickly, she had no time to react.
He pinned her tight, walking her back through the room, holding the knife to the front of her neck.
“PC Prince, you have a debt to pay,” he snarled in her ear.
Rachel’s brain was doing somersaults, trying to work out why he looked familiar. Sucking in air, she croaked, “What are you talking about?” Her mouth was parched, but she figured the longer she kept him talking, the more chance she might have of disarming him. The blade was sharp against her neck, restricting her movement.
“My brother sends his regards.”
“Tansley!”
“That’s right. He would have come himself, but he’s otherwise engaged. But you know all about that, don’t you?”
The man walked her towards the balcony.
Not again! What is it with people trying to throw me overboard? She had found herself in the same predicament on her previous cruise. Seeing the irony of the situation, she burst into uncontrollable laughter.
Taken aback by her hysteria, the man loosened his grip. “Oh, you think it’s funny, do you? Perhaps you’ll be less amused when you take an early morning dip.”
Rachel seized the opportunity as the man relaxed his grip to open the curtains. She quickly moved her left hand up against her chest, grabbing his right hand, and rotated his arm, keeping it close to her chest. She then bent forward and slipped behind him in rotation, still holding his right arm close to her, so that the knife was pointing upwards, away from her. As she twisted his arm, he dropped the knife, and she was able to deliver a swift blow to the back of his neck with both of her hands. He lost his balance for a moment and she kicked the knife away before picking up a chair and hitting him hard.
He still lunged at her, just like his brother had done. Managing to avoid the full blow from his fist hitting her full in the face, she grabbed his hand and twisted his arm hard behind his back. Using all her strength, she carried on twisting until he cried out in pain.
“Better men than you have tried this before.” She spoke through gritted teeth. Without releasing her grip, she pushed him towards the door. “Now open it.”
He pulled the door open. Her lungs bursting from the effort of holding his arm in the same position, she pushed him along the back corridor to Asimov’s room.
“Let go, pig!” he cursed.
“Knock on the door,” she ordered. He knocked with his left hand, and Rachel was relieved when Tweedledum came out of another room. Tweedledee answered Asimov’s door at the same time. An astonished silence ensued for a split second until Rachel broke it.
“Can one of you hold him while I call security?”
They grinned. “With pleasure.” Tweedledee picked Tansley up and thrust him against a wall. “Would you like to fight me?” He pushed his face up against the man’s nose. Tansley looked terrified now.
“No.”
“Shame, I like to fight cowards who hit women.” He punched th
e man hard in the stomach to show he meant business. Rachel grimaced as Tansley fell to the floor.
Asimov arrived at the door in his dressing gown and stared at Rachel, who had scratches to her arms and neck and a bruise to her face. Suddenly feeling exposed wearing her scanty nightclothes, but thankful for the two-piece shorts and shirt, Rachel started trembling.
Lucretia appeared. “What are you men doing? Bring her in here.” She covered Rachel with a bathrobe. “Call security, Vlad.”
Asimov did as he was told while the twins guarded the attacker who remained on the floor of the corridor. Two security guards arrived, and after taking a brief history from Rachel, took Tansley away. They told Rachel the CSO would come up to visit her within the hour.
Asimov looked confused, but Lucretia remained practical. She sat Rachel down, as Rachel was shaking uncontrollably, the adrenaline surging through her body in the aftermath of the attack. Lucretia handed Rachel a drink.
“Vodka, it will steady nerves,” she said.
“Thank you.” Rachel took the shot and swallowed it in one go. As the heat of the vodka reached the back of her throat, it made her cough, but it soothed her at the same time. “That hit the spot!”
“Another?” Lucretia asked.
Rachel nodded and did the same again. The trembling was settling and her emotions were back in check.
“Sorry for disturbing you, but I couldn’t let him go to use the telephone,” she explained.
“Did he try to rape?” Lucretia asked, putting her arm around Rachel. Rachel appreciated the woman’s concern, but wasn’t sure how much to say, not wanting them to know she was a police officer in case Asimov was involved in Jefgeny’s disappearance.
“I’d rather not talk about it. Thank you so much for your help. I’d better get back to my room now until the chief of security comes.”
“I understand.” Lucretia spoke softly. “Vladimir will escort you safe to room.” She nudged the confused looking Asimov.
“Yes, of course. Where is your room?”
Rachel smiled. “It’s the suite opposite yours.”
“Oh! Well come along then.” He led her across the rear corridor, back to the safety of her room. She swiped the card in the door and he noticed the mess inside where the fight had taken place. “Looks like you need Mario. Shall I call for him?”
“No, thank you. I’ll deal with it later.”
“Where you learn to fight?” he asked with admiration in his voice.
“I’m a karate black belt.” Rachel decided not to mention additional self-defence from the police academy. He seemed satisfied with the answer.
Seeing the weapon lying on the floor, he said, “If I were you, or if it had happened to Lucretia, I would have used knife.” He pivoted and strode back to his room. Rachel saw Lucretia waiting in the doorway and waved before closing the door.
Rachel had showered, dressed and made a cup of coffee by the time Waverley knocked on her door. She presumed he would have a universal door swipe, so called out.
“Come in.”
Her whole body was weak and jelly-like. She reasoned this was as a result of the adrenaline release, the fight and lack of sleep.
Waverley looked worried when he caught sight of her and squeezed her shoulder before sitting down opposite. “How are you?”
“I’ve been better.” She forced a smile.
He was taking in the surroundings and looking at the knife on the floor.
“I haven’t touched it. It’s evidence. You’ll need to fingerprint it, and won’t find any of mine on it.” Rachel’s emotions had shut down; she was speaking on autopilot.
Waverley appeared relieved. “That’s good. Please can you tell me what happened here?”
Rachel explained how she couldn’t get to sleep and how, on hearing someone trying to get into her room, she’d surprised them.
“He seemed like a drunk, to be honest, but I was stupid because a drunk wouldn’t have a key card to my room, and this man did.”
“How did that happen?”
“I lost mine yesterday – I realise now it was him who bumped into me, knocking my bag out of my hands. The contents spilled out. He helped me pick them up, which must have been when he took the key. I assumed I’d lost it, and as they don’t have room numbers or names on them, I thought it would be okay. I also double-lock at night, but I was tired and not thinking straight when I opened the door.”
“Do you know this man?”
“No, I don’t. He’s the brother of someone I recently arrested for murder, so there was a resemblance. I received a threatening letter after the trial, but didn’t take it too seriously. He said his brother sent his regards when he held the knife to my throat.”
“What was the brother’s name?” asked Waverley, taking notes.
“Tansley – Steven Tansley.”
“That confirms it – the man’s name is Ray Tansley. He’ll be locked up now for the rest of the cruise and we’ll hand him over to the police in New York. I need to bag up the knife. If you don’t mind, I’ll send someone to come and fingerprint the door and the key card he used to get in. Were you in one of the public areas when he bumped into you?”
“Yes, I was in the main atrium on my way to meet Sarah. It was just before three.”
“We’ll look at video footage from that time. We should have enough evidence, along with the knife and your testimony, to put him away for attempted murder, or at least aggravated assault. I need to ask you to drop in to see Dr Bentley later this morning. He’ll write a full report of the injuries and take photos. I’ll let him know to expect you. Is that alright? I can ask him to visit you here if you prefer.”
“No, let your team come and gather any evidence they need. His fingerprints will be on the curtain and the balcony door. He was going to throw me overboard.”
She grimaced. The irony was not lost on Waverley, who scowled.
“I’ll let Dr Bentley know to expect you first thing. The perpetrator denies attacking you, says you invited him up to your room, but we have enough evidence to keep him locked up for the duration. With forensics as well, he won’t get away with it. My team are searching his room as we speak and I suspect there will be more evidence to find there. He will not bother you again, Rachel.” Waverley used her first name in a fatherly manner, which she appreciated.
“Thank you.”
Rachel took a deep breath, relieved that she had escaped with her life again. Working as cruise ship security sounded pretty good to her right now.
Waverley got up. “Mario will ensure your room gets a thorough clean up once my team have finished. I suggest you stay away for a few hours this morning. I’ll send them up around 8am, if that suits?”
Rachel looked at the time: 5am. “Yes, that will be fine.”
Waverley left, and Rachel crashed out like a light in the chair where she sat.
Chapter 28
Chief of security, Jack Waverley, who stood at six foot four, prided himself on being physically fit for a fifty-six-year-old. He looked in the mirror back in his stateroom after taking a shave. Apart from carrying an extra stone, brought about by the attentions of Monique, a senior cook in the bakery with whom he was having a relationship, he looked good.
He liked his work the Coral Queen. It certainly beat the stress of working in the military police for the navy, where he had been a petty officer for twenty years. This cruise, though, was proving challenging, and he had a lot on his mind.
Before being called to Rachel Prince’s room, he had been worrying she might be right about Jefgeny Popov hiding somewhere aboard ship. He still hoped his hypothesis about Popov killing his friend, Erik Marinov, would turn out to be true, but he had growing doubts having questioned the engineering crew further. They all confirmed Erik had protected Popov. On top of that, there was the quandary over where Jefgeny would get a syringe, needle and drugs that would kill the big man.
The more he thought about it, the more doubts he had, which left him with
a thumping headache. Could one of the other crew members be responsible, and if so, who? As far as Waverley could work out, Erik had had no enemies. He’d worked hard and, unlike many of the crew, hadn’t drunk very much, preferring to study engineering books in his spare time.
Jefgeny Popov was more of a mystery – kept himself to himself, spoke only in Russian (even though he must have spoken English, being a US citizen), but he also worked hard, and going AWOL was totally out of character according to Steve Rafferty, the engineering chief. Jefgeny’s only weakness appeared to be the demon drink. His colleagues said he could hold his alcohol, and despite being able to drink more than most, he had never appeared drunk.
Waverley had been going through the case in his head, having informed Captain Jenson of Rachel’s suspicions and got his agreement to have Jefgeny’s girlfriend watched.
“Do what you have to do, but for pity’s sake, don’t let any harm come to the passengers,” Captain Jensen had said. “Are we certain the Russian passenger died from natural causes?”
Waverley had answered cautiously. “As far as the medical team can tell, he died of a heart attack or an overdose. There is the empty pill box found in the room—”
“Found by Miss Prince, again. She seems to have a knack for being in the thick of things, and was one of the last people to see Popov before he went missing.”
“You’re not suggesting she had anything to do with it?”
“No – of course not! It’s just a pity she’s a passenger, rather than on your team – she seems such a bright young thing, and could be useful to you, but she is a passenger.”
Waverley heard the veiled warning to curb her involvement. “Yes, sir. I don’t see any need to involve her further, and Miss Prince has assured me that her only wish is to enjoy her cruise and go shopping in New York.”
