Cruise to Mayhem

by David P. Remy

  No matter, as the materials in the briefcase flashed across her memory, she reconfirmed her resolve.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The sound speakers were blaring loud disco music in the Star Top Lounge. Per usual, the guys and the gals were conversing among their own gender. Maggie and Breath were totally involved with critiquing the fashion statements of the moment. Kris slugged down his drinks like a thirsty sailor on leave. Led made it appear that he was doing the same.

  Kris had gone over the legal line of DWUI easily by at least two drinks. He and Led had been doing the male bonding thing. Led bragging about his yet to be achievements. Kris waxing eloquently about his future in the art business. They were both shouting decibels louder than the blasting sound of the music.

  “Everybody wants art now. I can’t even get a piece unwrapped and it’s sold. Man, the future is here for the art dealer. It’s a seller’s market. Just find a half way decent painter and hype his work until the buyers believe it.” Kris droned on.

  “I’ll leave the art buying up to somebody else, like Breath.” Led replied with a nod toward the current flame in his life.

  “Man, I’m really bummed out.” Kris slurred.

  “Hey, man, what’s up with you?” Led had been only sipping on his drink to keep his head clear.

  “I shouldn’t say anything.” Kris was past having his defenses up and in protection mode. “I feel paranoid about something I did. I can’t get it off my mind and I need to tell someone…a friend…you know?”

  “What? You messing around with some chick other than Maggie? I bet that’s it, right, dude?”

  “No. Hell, no! I wouldn’t do that. It’s about a piece of art. I helped another staff member, actually, a ship’s officer, smuggle it on board.” Kris drank heavily from his rum and coke.

  “What’s one piece of art when there are hundreds of them on the ship?” Led was using logic laced with modern day ethics.

  “I need to find out why he wanted it smuggled onto this cruise. There’s got to be more than just that picture involved. I think there has to be something hidden under the frame wrapping. The art piece itself is just a copy. Not worth that much.”

  “Yeah, and what are you going to do if you do find something?” Led had Kris on the right wave length.

  “You know, man, if it’s worth something, I want my share. I helped get it on board. I want a piece of the action, as they say.”

  “Hey, maybe I could help. What are friends for?” Led shrewdly shoved him down the path according to his plan suggested by Lucky.

  “Yeah, I could use some help…your help. You could be my look out when we went into his cabin.”

  “And, just who is this staff member and where is the cabin?”

  “Man, I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. Can I trust you?” Kris had his crossed eyes staring into Led’s four eyes.

  “Of course you can, man. I’m with you all the way.”

  “OK. It’s the Chief Engineer and the picture is in his staff officer’s cabin down in the senior officers’ area.”

  “How’d we ever get inside the locked cabin?”

  “I have a master key card since I store artwork all over the ship. Same card like the room attendants have. Opens any door.” He shoved his hand in his pocket and drew out the card. Waved it in Led’s face.

  “We could go now. I heard Breath say that she had Hans down watching Sam, his grandfather.”

  “Cool with me, Kris. But, what are we going to say to the girls?”

  “No problem, man. We’ll just tell them we’ll be right back. Tell them that we’re going to check out the casino for a bit.”

  “OK, that might work.”

  Led and Kris made up their story as they went along in getting the girls to hold tight while they ran their “casino errand”.

  ****

  As Led knew from his planning with Breath, she indeed had made the phone call earlier to Hans’ office. She was lucky enough to catch him as he was just getting out of a meeting. “Sam ate something that didn’t agree with him. I gave him a sedative and he should sleep all night. But, I was hoping that you could look in on him for a while.”

  “Let me check my schedule, Breath…..OK, it looks fairly clear for this evening. I’ll be able to sit with him for a time.” Hans was slightly put off. He had hoped to have the evening free to catch up with his reports. As well as enjoy a few JW reds.

  “I’d so appreciate that, Hans. I’ll be up in the Star Top Lounge if there’s any emergency. And, I promise not to be too late.”

  “Don’t concern yourself. I’m sure granddad will be fine. You’ve been a great caretaker for him.”

  ****

  It was now quite late and the ship’s passageways were deserted, for the most part. Kris and Led winded their way through the shopping areas, up the ladders and through the cabin hallways. As they approached the senior officers’ area they spotted the intended portal. A sign was blatantly posted:

  “SECURE AND PRIVATE AREA. NO ENTRY.”

  This gave Led pause, but Kris grabbed the door handle and pushed it open.

  “C’mon.” He motioned with a wave of his hand.

  As they tiptoed down the hallway, they suddenly heard the sound of a conversation ahead of them. They both froze with fear for a second. Then, realizing that there was no escape if those people would come down the hallway toward them, Kris pushed Led back toward the door that they had just entered.

  “Hurry,” he whispered. We can’t let anyone see us in this area.”

  They rushed through the door and around the corner into a men’s bathroom. “I think we’ll be safe here until they pass.” Kris tried to reassure Led.

  They heard the muffled voices passing by the bathroom door, discussing something or other about the fuel consumption.

  “OK, I think we’re clear. Let’s go.” Kris led the way back to Hans’ cabin door. Even in his now less drunken condition, he had to make a couple of stabs with the master card key into the door lock slot. Finally, he succeeded and the door was unlocked. He gently opened the door.

  Kris whispered, “Hello. Is anyone here? Mr. Stydd? Are you here?”

  Receiving no response and not hearing any sound, they entered the dimly lit room. Kris immediately moved over to the wall adorned with the Van Gogh and took it down.

  Kris pulled out a small pen knife. “Now, let’s see what’s behind this framing.”

  ****

  Hans was finally able to make it to Sam’s cabin a couple of hours later. He entered the room and saw that Sam was firmly ensconced in his bed. He could hear Sam breathing moderately heavy, but nothing to be alarmed over…just a deep sleep induced by the sedative which Nurse Breath had given him. He found the mini bar stocked with his favorite Scotch, so he made himself a drink.

  He settled into a comfortable position on the couch, reached for the remote and turned on the TV. The sound came on loudly as Sam had it preset to aid with his hearing challenge. Hans quickly toned down the volume. Sam stirred briefly, but his breathing quickly returned to the rhythm it had when Hans first came in.

  The offerings on TV were god awful, especially for anyone who had been on cruise ships for so many years. Most of the commercials were well worn and constantly looped attempting to delight the current cruise guests with the myriad moments of possibilities they could buy into. Taunting them to let go and do whatever their heart desired while on the cruise. Of course, all this letting go did accomplish one thing for the guests---it let go of a lot of their cash for the privilege of doing their thing.

  Hans did the master of the remote’s ritual and channel surfed. Along with the worn out commercials, there were old TV series, classic movies, kids movies, a port shopping channel, re-runs of travel programs, all, coincidentally, no surprise, featuring the places the ship would be making port visits. There were two news channels, but the satellite feed was intermittent and the result was seeing and hearing a technically flawed report.

  Dozing off
, compliments of the boredom from the TV shows, Hans did manage some much needed rest. The life of an engineer aboard any ship was demanding, being on call twenty four hours a day. Little rest for the weary. A couple of hours of blessed sleep went by when he jump started awake due to a shot from the movie playing on the TV. The thousandth showing of “The Valentine’s Day Massacre.”

  Hans listened for Sam and heard the same rhythmic breathing. He needed some rest himself, in a real bed, and decided it was alright for him to return to his own cabin. He checked out the cabin and made sure everything was in order. He turned off the lights and double checked that Sam’s cabin door was securely locked.

  He decided he would make an impromptu visit to the engineering spaces to check on any last minute situations that may have come up with his night shift engineers.

  ****

  Kris had stationed Led as his lookout, who was now peering through the crack he left open in Hans’ cabin door. He took down the picture and using the coffee table to position the painting, with great precision, Kris used his pen knife to expertly cut through and open the back of the Van Gogh framing. He didn’t want to cut all the way around the frame, just enough so he could peek inside.

  He gently slipped his hand through the cut opening and felt for anything that shouldn’t be there. His fingers felt nothing at first. He needed to cut the opening a bit more to allow more of his arm to reach further up inside. Then, as he gingerly pushed his arm more deeply, he did feel something. It was attached to the backing of the painting. He sensed that it was some kind of paper. A folded piece of paper held there probably with some type of glue or tape.

  He carefully pulled on the paper and felt it haltingly give way from its position. He slipped it out of the bottom of the back wrap of the print frame. He nervously set his paper treasure aside while he found Scotch tape on Hans’ desk and used some to re-seal the frame wrap. Then Kris hung the painting back onto its original place. He and Led fled the cabin like ghosts in the night.

  “Success! I knew it,.” He exclaimed to Led. He held up the piece of paper like a lawyer would exhibit state’s evidence in court. I was sure that there was some reason why the picture was smuggled on board and I bet it doesn’t have much, if anything, to do with a copy of a Van Gogh.”

  Led was in his personal afterglow from the excitement. If he smoked, it would be the traditional moment to light up.

  Kris couldn’t wait to examine the contents of what he had found. “Let’s get to my cabin and open this up. We’ll need to read the message to find out what all this mysterious monkey business is about. I’m a bit upset that Van Gogh is being used for such deleterious affairs.”

  Led didn’t object since this was the entire reason why he set this whole operation in gear with Lucky’s prompting. Lucky had indicated that there might be some shenanigan developing and, for his own reasons, Lucky couldn’t get more involved. No diff…Led immensely enjoyed taking risks. This was right up his alley.

  “No problem. The girls won’t even miss us with all the excitement in the lounge. They’ll be evaluating the pros and cons of each dude in the lounge, anyway.” Led half smiled.

  Reaching Kris’s cabin, they sat on the couch and placed the paper on the coffee table. Kris opened the discolored tri-folded paper with great precision. A couple pieces along the edges flaked off. Kris took a deep breath and proceeded even more cautiously.

  “This is scary. I’m sure that this will not be good news for somebody. A person doesn’t smuggle anything that will be proclaimed from the pulpit in church on Sunday. I just hope we haven’t gotten in over our heads on this one.” Kris’ forehead beaded perspiration.

  “You’re doing great, Kris. Keep going, man. We’ve gone this far. We can’t back down now.” Led was pumped.

  The sheet of yellowed paper lay before them. They leaned closer to read the smudged print. Like Siamese twins they read the newspaper copy staring them in the face.

  “FAMILY OF MAYHEM SHIPYARD INDITED FOR TREASON”

  “An investigative reporter of this newspaper has discovered that the patriarch of the well known and highly respected family will likely be arrested for the commission of high treason. Wolfgang Andersen, president and chairman of the board of the Mayhem Shipyard will be accused of cooperating with the Nazis during the occupation. It is being alleged that he had masterminded the enslavement of the employees of the shipyard which would further the naval requirements of the enemy during the war.”

  The copy continued along the same vein for several more paragraphs.

  “But, why was this smuggled aboard? It’s just a story from an old newspaper, isn’t it?” Led was confused. In the meantime, Kris went to the desk and retrieved his magnifying lens.

  “Interesting, yes.” Kris replied. Kris examined the quality of the paper more minutely. He was a trained art dealer and he knew how to read more than just the print on the paper. He read the type of paper on which the print was affixed.

  In a low growl of voice, “terribly interesting. This appears to be printed on copy paper.”

  Led turned to Kris. “So? Copy paper? What’s the difference?”

  “This was being set to copy but I’ll bet it never reached the printing press. In the newspaper business, the editor has his look see over a copy of the newspaper stories written by the journalists. The stories are configured on the page set for printing. Then the editor censors or edits what content he wants to send to the printer. I’ll bet my salary that this story never found its way to the presses or ever hit the streets. The story was squashed.”

  Led let out a whistle. “You’re saying that this story about this Andersen guy…I mean, alleged story…never was divulged to the public?”

  “That’s exactly my theory. It’s got to be the answer to the mystery. Why else would someone smuggle this aboard, unless it was a secret? If the story had been printed, it would be part of known history. Not worth the paper it was printed on. Definitely, not worth smuggling.”

  “And that someone is none other than Hans Stydd, the Chief Engineer. But, what’s his motive?” Led sat back on the couch and wondered with his hands clasped behind his head.

  “I doubt that he is working alone. There must be someone else involved,” Kris countered. “Maybe that person has the real motive and somehow or other manipulated the Chief Engineer into doing this.” Kris was sober as a judge, now.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  During this interlude, while Kris and Led were running their “casino errand”, Maggie and Breath remained in the Star Top Lounge doing their thing…gossiping and playing at being fashion divas. They would thrust their thumbs up or down as they surveyed the vestment chosen to be worn that evening by each person who entered their domain.

  Maggie mentioned that she needed to go to the powder room. Going against the time honored tradition of the female gender going to the ladies’ room in pairs, Breath replied, “hey, that will give me time to run down to the casino. I’ll find out what those two men of ours are up to. I’ll drag their butts back to the lounge if and when I get my hands on them.” They both chuckled as they went their separate ways.

  In reality, Breath had no intention of going to the casino. She had plans to return to her cabin. She was on a mission and it had nothing to do with finding the missing male dates. Breath was determined to end a misery in her life…a lifetime of debilitating worry caused by the war time history of the Mayhem shipyard. That nasty affair was not her doing. She wouldn’t allow her life to be ruined for what happened in an age long before she was even born. She had had enough. She grew up with a deep seated resentment about the ill placed blame, as she perceived it to be. Breath sublimated a vengeful heart under her professional caring.

  She entered her cabin and once again brought out the black briefcase filled with the news articles that she had collected and saved over the years. Evidence of who was responsible for the Mayhem shipyard deeds. Breath had vowed to destroy all evidence in regards to this distasteful matter in tandem
with her destroying the person who generated this notoriety.

  There, on the front page, was the picture of “her Sam”. The very person she had monitored like a spy camera for so many years. She read the history of the trial. Rolf S. Stuttgar had been sentenced to life in prison along with that terrible secret…the secret that haunted Breath all of her life. Now he had been released. Breath had felt a modicum of security knowing that Sam was locked up. He deserved to rot in prison for his part in the dirty deed.

  The state had the audacity to release him. What difference did his medical condition make in relation to the harm he had done and could continue to do? With this bit of bleeding heart nonsense on the part of the state, she drew the proverbial line in the sand. In her mind, when the state released Sam, it had issued his death sentence. No one else needed to suffer. And, no one would. She had convinced herself that it didn’t make any sense to have this go on and risk the ruination of anyone else’s life. Primarily, her own.

  She had concocted a bold plan. After she graduated from her nursing school, she intentionally made herself available for the position of nurse caretaker for Sam. It would be easy for her to find a way to have him meet his maker, with no questions asked. After all, he was dying anyway. She would be the angel of death and be happy to bring this mayhem to a conclusion. With Sam’s death, the secret which he had held so closely all these years would die with him.

  With her emotions all riled up, she entered Sam’s cabin. She attempted to wake him.

  “Sam, Sam. Can you wake up?” She shook his shoulder.

  “Huh? What? What is it?” Sam was awake but in a fog as a result of the meds, inducing a deep sleep, which Breath had made sure to give him.

  “It’s time for you to get up for a little ride around the ship, Sam.” Breath knew he was confused, but would trust her to be doing the right thing.