Murder on the Orient (SS): The Agatha Christie Book Club 2
Page 3
When they all looked at her confused, she chuckled, waving a chubby hand bedecked in thick gold rings. “I’m Millie Solarno, nice to meet you. And that, my dears—”
She fluttered the hand towards Dermott, who was now whisking a woman in a bright red silk dress and bouffant hairstyle around.
“—is our resident Gentleman Dance Host.”
“Gentleman Dance Host?” repeated Missy, and the woman mock-gasped.
“My, my, you people really are virgin cruisers. I wasn’t sure there were any left on the planet.” She paused to catch her breath. “Dermott is paid to keep us sad old widows entertained, or at least he’s paid in kind, you know, food and berth and all that. He’s hired by the Orient cruise line of which I happen to be a director, and I can tell you, it’s money well spent. The man is like honey to a bee. Ah, ladies, come meet these adorable cleanskins!”
They looked up to find an almost replica copy of Millie waddling towards them, followed by another who was slightly thinner, slightly older and significantly less jolly. The first was Tillie, the baby sister, the other Billie—“Not really her name. It’s Bertha, but we insisted she get in on the action,” explained Millie.
They all exchanged names and settled back to watch as Dermott spun close to the table, the bouffant woman’s red dress flying open to reveal surprisingly muscled thighs.
“Oooh, it’s the Orient waltz!” said Tillie, pricking up her ears as the band launched straight into a new tune. “Or is it the galop? I can never tell those tunes apart.”
“Goodness me, they’re completely different, Mathilda!” said Millie, who then turned to the book club to explain. “This ship inspired several amazing composers in its day. In fact, the SS Orient Galop was composed especially for the captain of its maiden voyage, a man named Captain Studdart.”
“Captain Stubing?” said Perry, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
“Studdart,” the woman repeated firmly, glowering at him. “I can assure you, you will find no similarities to that dreadful boat here! Oh look, here comes Cecilia again.”
Millie gave the woman a wave as she whizzed past and then, through a clenched smile, said, “She’ll be giving poor Dermy the heavy word right about now.”
“That sounds like an episode of The Love Boat to me,” Perry shot back at her.
“You wash your mouth out with soap, young man!” Billie snapped now. “Not at all! Dermott is a consummate professional. Those women might throw themselves at him, but he knows the rules—no favouritism and no fraternising beyond the dance floor, and I’ve never known him to break either rule. Ever. He’d get the sack if he did.”
“And he’d have women clawing each other’s eyes out!” added Tillie, smirking behind her gold-rimmed glasses.
“Yes, well, this is all very interesting, but I need a drink.” Perry glanced around. “Where is that hunky waiter I saw earlier?” Spotting him now tending the bar, he stood up and said, “Well, if the mountain won’t come to Perry… Drinks, anyone?”
The book club friends proceeded to shout out orders, which he dutifully memorised as he headed off to the bar while Lynette stared gloomily after him.
“He’s right. The only cuties are the staff. I haven’t seen a single hunk under the age of… Hold the phone! What have we got here?”
She was now staring at the entrance to the music bar where a man was standing, looking in expectantly. He was no older than forty-five with a full head of wavy brown hair, a meticulously trimmed goatee and a snug designer tux that screamed Hugo Boss.
She must have been drooling because Billie was now giving her the evil eye. “Don’t even think about it, young lady,” she snapped again. “Also strictly taboo.”
“Really? Why?”
As if to answer the question, the man vanished momentarily before reappearing behind a gleaming wheelchair. In it sat an elderly lady who made everyone else look sprightly. She had to be well into her eighties, her bony limbs poking out beneath layers of flowing chiffon, her crumpled-tissue skin splattered with the makeup of a trembling hand. The jewellery around her withered neck was almost blinding, despite the distance, and she was saying something to the man, but he appeared not to notice. His eyes were darting around the room from one woman to the next before they settled first on Claire, who rewarded him with a frown, and then on to Lynette who smiled coyly.
“They’re married,” said Millie. Then she waited a beat before adding, “Not that that ever stopped him.”
“Who are they?” asked Lynette, intrigued.
“It’s Dame Dinnegan and her… what? Third husband, Til’? Fourth?”
Her sister shrugged. “Who can keep up?”
“Cheyne, they call him—that’s Shane spelt with a Ch, would you believe?”
Alicia laughed. “I didn’t know you could spell Shane with a Ch.”
“You can do anything you damn well like when you’re married to a Dame!”
“He can’t really be in love with her,” Claire said, and that brought more scorn from the sisters.
“Of course he’s not in love with her,” Billie said. “He pretends to be in love with her, and she pretends to believe him while he pushes her around and she opens doors for him. It’s quite a symbiotic relationship I believe. He’s an artist, a photographer, and not a particularly good one, but that hasn’t stopped him from getting exhibited at some of the best galleries in London. And on this ship, now that I think of it.” She turned to her sisters. “I just heard that his hideous little photos are going to be on full display in our lovely foyer. Can you believe the captain would ever allow such a thing?”
“That’s right,” said Missy. “I saw something about that in the schedule. Looked kind of interesting.”
“Don’t get too excited, my dear. He doesn’t get the gigs on merit; he can thank the Dame for that one. She’s an old buddy of the captain’s. In fact, all of Cheyne’s exhibitions are thanks to her.”
“Lucky him,” said Lynette.
“Luck has nothing to do with it!” Billie retorted. “Cheyne Smith—yes, she kept her name, I like that about her—well, he planned the whole thing. He stalked that woman, and he nabbed her. If you ask me, he’s like the thriving strangler vine, clinging onto the crumbling old castle, sucking it dry.”
Alicia felt a cold shiver run down her spine.
The group watched as the “strangler vine” began to push the “crumbling castle” into the room. She was looking fretful and raised a shaky hand to stop him. He leaned down and said something to her, and she shook her head, her eyes darting around the room nervously. He spoke again, this time through clenched teeth, then rolled his eyes—making no effort to hide his annoyance—and whisked her around so quickly she almost toppled out of the chair, before pushing her back towards the exit. Just as he reached it, he turned and surveyed the room again, but this time his eyes settled on a tall, skinny woman in a black dress who was standing by herself at the bar. Like almost every woman in the room, she, too, had been watching him keenly, and this time he met her gaze and gave her a nod. A very slight one, but it was not lost on Alicia, who watched captivated as he turned back and pushed his wife through the open doors and away.
Lynette shrugged. “Oh well, easy come, easy go.”
“He’ll be back,” said Millie. “He’ll pop her into bed with some Valium and return to dance the night away with whatever bit of skirt he can find. The poor duck. I have no idea if she realises what he gets up to when she’s out for the count.” She sat forward, groaning a little as she did so, her ample bosom getting wedged against the table. “The girls and I have decided to keep an eye on her.” She lowered her voice now. “We suspect he’s planning to throw her overboard at the first opportunity.”
Chapter 5
Missy couldn’t have looked more excited if you’d just told her she’d won the lottery. She loved a good murder plot even if it was just wrapped in gossip and innuendo.
“Really?” she said, eyes gleaming, mouth agape.
“Does he sleep with any of them?” asked Lynette.
Billie pursed her lips. “Well, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Plus he keeps taking Dame Dinnegan for long, lonely rolls along the deck,” added Tillie. “I caught him practically leaning her wheelchair over the side one day, didn’t I, girls? We’d only been on the cruise for a week. When he noticed me he quickly pulled her back, but I knew what he was up to. Sneaky bugger.” She giggled, snorting as she did so.
Missy was in raptures. This was a much more enticing mystery than searching for Corrie Van Tussi’s missing garments. “We’ll help you, won’t we, Book Club? We’re good at looking out for people. Do you really suspect he’s up to something?”
Billie leaned forward now. “We know it! We hear she’s worth buckets, has a pile of bricks in Oxfordshire that would leave this ship looking dowdy.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean he wants to kill her,” said Claire, but they only tsk-tsked at that as Perry returned, a tray of various coloured cocktails in hand.
“What have I missed?” he asked.
As the group resumed gossiping about the “old lady and the gigolo”, Alicia sighed, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. She, too, loved a good mystery, but she was more in the mood for romance tonight, and yet again Anders was missing in action. She had seen him at dinner but only from a distance. He was seated at the captain’s table, his “duty” he told her, and had then simply vanished. Dancing was obviously not part of said duties, even though she could now see the captain waltzing with Corrie’s skinny friend in the black dress at one end of the dance floor.
What’s good for the goose, she thought bitterly.
Grabbing her glass of champagne, she stood up. The Solarno sisters had given her an idea. “I’m going to take a stroll on the deck.”
Lynette crinkled her brow. “You okay?”
“Fine, Lynny. Just need some fresh air.”
“Want some company?”
Yes, she thought, but you’re the wrong person entirely. “No, just stretching my legs. I won’t be long.”
She gave her sister a reassuring smile as she turned to leave while Missy whispered none too subtly to the others, “She probably wants to check on the gigolo. She’s got a nose for mystery, that one!”
Just beside the old pianoforte, a thick set of glass doors opened out to the upper deck, which wrapped right around the Grand Salon and across to a set of stairs which, according to the sign, took you up to the promenade deck, also imaginatively titled The Promenade Deck. Next to the sign was a smaller one that read, “Private: State Room passengers only”.
Alicia sighed. Hers was a lowly economy cabin, so she stepped towards the railing instead, looking up at the enormous full moon. It was a perfect circle, fluorescent white, like something off the cover of a cheesy romance novel, and she would have laughed at the irony if she were not feeling quite so glum.
A burst of loud music came from the door behind her, and she noticed two women stepping out, both wrapped in shawls. They gave her a friendly nod, and she nodded back then kept walking, away from the bar and up the steps to the private deck. She wasn’t a first-class passenger, but she also wasn’t in the mood for more small talk and suspected she’d find more privacy up there.
Not that there’d been a huge amount of small talk!
First the captain’s wife had propositioned them to hunt down a thief, then Dermott had vaguely suggested Corrie was unfaithful, and now the Solarno sisters were pointing an accusatory finger at a husband whose sole sin, it seemed to Alicia, was his marriage to an older, richer woman. If it had been the other way around, as it was regularly—him rich and decrepit, her young and vibrant—no one would have batted an eyelid.
Besides, Alicia had witnessed her own sister’s devotion to older, richer men and knew there was a price to be paid by the younger partner too.
She must have been preoccupied with these thoughts as she reached the top of the landing because Alicia almost didn’t notice the couple standing at the far end of the deck, heads close together, deep in conversation. The man noticed her, though, and pulled apart, brushing a hand through his shaggy blond hair as he did so. If it wasn’t for this reaction, Alicia may well have kept on walking. As it was he caught her eye, and she took a better look, realising it was the man from earlier that day, the one she had crashed into in the companionway.
He looked embarrassed or caught out or something.
It didn’t take long to work out why. The woman he was so intimately chatting with had not turned around, was still mid-chatter, but there was no mistaking that tiger-print top and those broad, brickie shoulders.
It was Corrie Van Tussi, the captain’s wife.
*********
When Alicia returned to the music bar, the book club friends had dispersed and a new posse of pals surrounded the Solarnos. She gave them a smile as she glanced about.
She soon spotted Perry, who was back at the bar slamming shots of something translucent with a group of men, and Lynette who was finally on the dance floor with Dermott. She gave Alicia a shrug as if to say, “When you’re desperate, you’re desperate.” In return, Alicia tried to give her sister a look that said, “When you’re ready, I’ve got some hot gossip!” but Lynette was not biting. She only had two dances with the Dance Host, and she wasn’t about to give them up.
When the song ended, Dermott escorted Lynette back to her seat with a flourish then extended his hand to Alicia, but she thanked him and waved him off. There were other women more eager for his services than she was.
“You should’ve had a whirl; he’s very good,” Lynette said of Dermott as he spun off in the opposite direction. “Got to give it to the guy. He really knows his way around the dance floor.”
“Gigolo didn’t try his luck?”
“No.” She frowned and tucked her legs beneath her. “I didn’t notice him come back in, but I’m sure the Salami Sisters would wrestle me to the ground if I dared to dance with him! Now what’s going on with you, young lady? Is everything okay?” Her eyes narrowed. “It’s Anders, isn’t it? I notice he hasn’t come in for a dance, even though the captain managed to find the time, albeit briefly. Thought we might have seen your dishy doc tonight.”
Alicia feigned nonchalance. “Oh well, his loss.”
“You sound strangely calm. You’re sure you’re not still hung up on the fact that he was flirting with the captain’s wife?”
“No,” she said, then began blinking rapidly. “What do you mean he was flirting? He wasn’t flirting! Was he?”
Lynette dropped her head to one side. “Little bit, sorry.”
Alicia decided to ignore that for the moment and said, “Anyway, I don’t care about that. I’ve got some gossip!” There was a lull in the conversation at the next table, and she noticed one of the Solarno sisters glance in their direction, so she lowered her voice.
“Come to bed, and I’ll reveal everything.”
“Oh, there’s a proposition I didn’t think I’d get tonight!” Lynette shot back. “I suppose I might as well turn in. Missy and Claire have already called it quits, Perry’s no use to anyone—at least not of the female variety—and it looks like I’m back at the end of Dermott’s dance card. Come on then, let’s clear this joint.”
They caught Perry’s eye and waved him good-night, then made their way out of the bar and back down the grand internal staircase, which met up with the entrance to the main restaurant and the central elevator.
“So, what is it?” Lynette implored as Alicia pressed the “Down” button on the elevator’s external control panel.
“I saw the captain’s wife cozying up to another man. Up on the promenade deck.”
“So?”
“So isn’t that a little flirty?”
“No, it’s you being a little naughty, tryin
g to smear the woman’s reputation because she’s so fond of Anders.”
“Huh! As if!” Alicia glared at her sister and stabbed the lift button again, just as a flash of green caught her eye in a nearby passageway.
The elevator was located bang in the middle of the ship with the restaurant on the bow side and most of the staterooms towards the stern. These were the posh suites, Alicia knew that, the double rooms with separate sleeping and sitting areas, large en suite bathrooms and private balconies, and there, heading towards them were two once-posh ladies who now looked as drunk as, well, sailors.
They were hobbling along together, holding each other up, the taller one in a captain’s hat and flowing green robe singing badly out of tune, while the other, dressed in a long red gown, giggled and guffawed beside her. They stopped at one of the doors on the starboard side and almost tumbled in, laughing as they did so, and Lynette sighed.
“Oh well, at least someone’s having some fun tonight.”
The words would come back to haunt her, and sooner than she could have anticipated.
Chapter 6
It was just as well the passenger in cabin S31 had prebooked a personal trainer first thing that morning, or she may not have been found for many hours yet. As it was, trainer Steve Owens was the first to raise the alarm, unable to wake her despite his incessant knocking.
And it was a good thing, too, that Steve was the suspicious type for the ship’s chief officer showed absolutely no interest in unlocking the door to the stateroom to see if the occupant was alive and well.
“Leave her be. She needs her beauty sleep.”
Steve had decided to ignore this trademark sexist comment and said simply, “That lady has risen early every morning since we left Plymouth to work out on the top deck. I do not see why this morning should be any different. I’m pretty concerned, sir. Perhaps she’s fallen over in the shower? We need to check.”