by C. A. Larmer
Eventually, with his eggs now consumed and his pot of English Breakfast tea half drunk, Chief Officer Pane reluctantly agreed and strolled at a frustratingly leisurely pace to the luxury suite across from the restaurant. There he spotted the “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging from the door handle and pointed at it theatrically, but Steve was unperturbed.
“Please, sir.”
Pane gave him a look that suggested he was as pitiful as his client and began tapping at it politely just as a young cabin steward came whistling down the passageway.
“Ah, Horenzo, have you serviced Madame’s room this morning?”
The man shook his head no. “She no up yet, sir.”
Officer Pane tapped a little more forcefully this time and continued tapping until all three of them were hammering away like they were going to beat it down with their bare fists. By this stage several passengers had poked their heads out of nearby cabins, and Pane held a hand up to placate them.
“All is fine, please return to your rooms.”
Finally, belatedly, he produced the master key and unlocked the door. It was heavy, like all the cabin doors and required a bit of shove, but when they propped it open, they found the room cloaked in darkness. The thick drapes were still drawn across the doors to the private balcony.
“Helloooo!” Pane sang out. “It’s just the chief officer come to see if everything is alriiiight!” Silence replied. “Wait here,” he told the others and stepped into the room and towards the bed where the woman’s red polished toenails could be seen poking out from a pair of silver heels.
She was still wearing her shoes and long red dress from the evening before, which only struck him as strange later; for now he was simply relieved she was not naked. He had encountered one too many naked old biddies in his time, most of them unashamedly so, and he found it disgusting at best. He was certainly not in the mood for that this morning.
Pane stepped around the corner towards the bed where the woman was lying, her hands folded across her chest, her eyes shut, the silvery-blue eye shadow still in place, her cheeks still smudged with blush. Below the blush, however, her skin was a yellowy grey, and there was an eerie kind of stillness to her features. It was not the still of sleep, but of something deeper and more sinister.
Pane hesitated, steeled himself and then reached down to touch her shoulder to try to shake her awake, but of course she was not asleep, and he knew it by then, knew it even as he gave her shoulder one more shake. Just to make sure.
She was ice cold. He could feel that through the flimsy fabric of her evening gown, and he groaned as he forced himself to place two fingers at the pulse on her neck where he waited for the beat he knew would not come.
Oh dear, had it all gone too far this time?
He couldn’t think about that now. Pane stepped back and cleared his throat before saying, “Call the doctor, Steve. And alert the captain, please. We have another… incident.”
Then he tried not to retch as he fled from the cabin.
********
“Try not to look quite so wretched,” Lynette said, eye rolling her sister as she placed a dainty china teacup to her lips.
“What?” Alicia retorted. “I’m just sitting here quietly eating my poached eggs.”
“Sulking more like.” Lynette’s features softened. “I’m sorry, ’Lis, but you knew he would be working, we all knew that. I guess you could always fake the norovirus and book in to see him.”
Alicia ignored this and held her own cup out to the young waitress who was hovering with fresh coffee. She was going to need a few brews this morning after a fretful night’s sleep. Experienced sailors had told her she would sleep like a baby to the rocking motion of the ship, but there was no such luck last night. All she could do was toss and turn and try to block out the sounds of cabin doors slamming and toilets being worked as the revellers returned to bed at various intervals throughout the night. It didn’t help that the Solarno sisters’ words kept circling through her brain alongside the image of an old lady in a wheelchair flying into the sea.
Lynette was right, of course. Dr Anders’s absence was beginning to grate. In the sixteen or so hours they’d been on board, he’d barely spent more than thirty minutes with Alicia, let alone invited her back to his cabin. Sure, he was here to do a job, but he couldn’t be on duty 24/7, could he? She finished her coffee, then pushed herself up from the table.
“Going to make a medical appointment, are we?”
“I’m just popping my head in to say hello, that’s all. Won’t take more than a minute. I’m allowed to say hello, right?”
“If you want to look like a desperado, sure.” Lynette then tried to soften the blow with a warm smile.
Alicia glowered at her anyway and swept out of the restaurant just as Missy and Claire swept in. They were both dressed in ’50s-style dresses with tight waistbands and full skirts, and she bid them good morning, then pointed to where Lynette was seated.
Continuing to the elevator, she noticed a bit of a commotion going on in the passageway behind her but didn’t have a chance to check it out before the lift arrived with a loud ping! She jumped in and headed downwards, past her own deck towards the lower deck where the medical centre was located, just beyond the spa.
She had decided if the good doctor wouldn’t come to her, she would go to him.
No sooner had she reached the lower deck, however, when Anders came running towards her.
“Oh, Alicia, hold the lift!”
She did so and stood at the door, stopping it from closing. “Anders, I’m glad I caught you, I was just wondering—”
“Sorry, can’t talk, gotta fly!” He stepped into the elevator and began stabbing at one of the buttons.
“Okay, but can we—?”
“Seriously, it looks like one of passengers has passed away. I’ve got to get up there.”
The first thing Alicia thought of was the old lady in the wheelchair. “It’s not Dame Dinnegan is it?”
“Who?” He stabbed at the button again just as the doors began to close.
“Never mind,” she called out. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Yes! Relaaa—”
His voice was gobbled up by the closing doors, and Alicia stared at them for a moment, then squinted up at the numbers above the old-fashioned-style elevator, watching as it pinged its way from the two lower decks up to the main deck, where it stopped.
“Bingo!” she said before heading for the stairs.
There was quite a crowd loitering outside cabin S31, and Alicia stood at the top of the side stairwell, her mind racing as she computed who exactly had passed away. It wasn’t Dame Dinnegan; she knew that now. Anders was nowhere to be seen, inside no doubt, attending to the patient, but a short fat man was racing in and out, issuing orders, looking more annoyed than concerned. If her memory served correctly, it was the ship’s chief officer.
“You lost?”
Alicia spun around to find someone standing behind her, just a step below. She had not heard him creep up, and it took her a moment to recognise him as the sandy-haired man she’d run into not once but twice the day before.
And here he was again.
“No,” she replied. “I’m just waiting for someone.”
“Really and who might that be?”
She blinked. “Sorry but I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“Neither is this, I’d suggest. Haven’t you got a pool to swim in or a rich guy to flirt with or something?”
Alicia’s jaw dropped. The cheek of the man! Besides, he was one to talk. The last time she’d seen him he was flirting with the captain’s wife.
Before she could respond, he held up one hand and said, “Sorry, don’t answer that.” Then he glanced across her shoulder at the door to S31, frowning slightly before retreating down the stairwell.
Alicia watched him go, her mouth wide open, her eyebrows high. What was his problem? She wondered. And who did he think he was?
Her brows then swished together as she realised why she hadn’t initially recognised the man—he was now wearing a black-and-white uniform.
She never would have picked it, but the guy was a lowly barman.
Chapter 7
“I nearly got a job working on a cruise ship once,” Missy mused when Alicia relayed the story back in the dining room where the book club friends were still idling over their breakfast.
Alicia was not just surprised to find the sandy-haired guy was a staff member. She was even more intrigued by the fact that he had an Australian accent. Most of the senior crew were British, where the ship originated, while the cabin stewards, cleaners and waiting staff were all from Indonesia or the Philippines. They were the only ones willing to work long hours for a pittance with no trade union to put a stop to it.
So what was his game?
“Atrocious pay,” Missy continued, “but you get to travel around the world, hang out with other young ones and party when you’re not working.”
“Yeah, except he’s not exactly young. Pushing forty I’d say.”
“Ah, the Peter Pan type,” said Claire, nudging her perfect button nose into a crinkle. “I dislike Peter Pans. They simply don’t know when to grow up.”
“Is he hot?” asked Lynette, who was still on the hunt for a dance partner, and Alicia laughed.
“Did I not mention he’s a barman, Lynette?”
“Right, of course, scrap that.”
As a budding chef, Lynette liked her men more financially independent than that, preferably owners of the restaurant in which she worked, not the hired help. She was fussy like that. “Well, you could have his butt fired for that comment.”
“Nah, he did apologise. Besides, he’s probably just exhausted after being up all night with the captain’s wife.”
She glinted at the group and, ignoring her sister’s frown, said, “I saw him canoodling with Corrie up on the private promenade deck. Under the moonlight.” A fleeting feeling of melancholy swept over her, and she nudged it away. “He looked really embarrassed when he spotted me.”
“Didn’t Dermott say something about Corrie being a bit of a player?” said Claire.
Alicia nodded. “Anyway, more importantly, what do we think’s happened to poor Mrs Beehive.”
“Who?”
“The woman who’s getting all the attention in cabin S31; it’s that bouffant woman from the dance floor last night. You know? The one in the red dress with the killer thighs.”
“How do you know?” Lynette asked.
“Because if my memory serves me correctly, you and I saw her go into that cabin on our way to bed last night. Blind drunk, remember?”
“Oh, her! Really? Wasn’t there someone else with her? A tall woman in a green dress with a captain’s hat?”
Alicia’s eyebrows nudged up and down. Yes there was.
“That sounds like Corrie,” suggested Missy, and Alicia and Lynette stared at each other.
Neither had managed to get a good look at the tall blonde, but Alicia doubted Corrie could have got from the barman’s arms on the promenade deck and down to the deceased woman’s that quickly. She was about to say so when she caught sight of Perry strolling in through the restaurant doors.
“Oh, look who the cat dragged in!”
When Perry reached them he was grinning just like a cat, one that had got the cream, the canary and the mouse.
“They may not have a nightclub on this ship, Lynny, but who needs it when the music bar is pumping until the wee hours? You all left way too early. That boring band disappears after midnight and takes most of the old folk with them. Then a cool DJ starts up. It went off! Eventually I had to hold up the white flag and kick myself to bed. Goodness, I’m in for a bit of strife on this cruise I can tell that already.”
Lynette groaned. “You’re just lucky the only available men on board bat for your side.”
“Aren’t I just?” He sniggered as he held his coffee cup out for the hovering waiter. As he administered milk he said, “So, you heard about the old dear in one of the state rooms?”
Alicia sat forward. “What do you know?”
“Died of a suspected heart attack overnight apparently.”
“That’s it?”
“Well I could chuck in a stroke and a seizure to liven the story up if you’d like.”
Alicia sat back. “No suspicious circumstances then?”
“Only in your imagination I suspect. No, I bumped into our dishy doc on my way in. He said the poor dear suffered a myocardial something-or-other.” He paused. “No offence, Al’, but the man can be a bit of a bore.”
She glared at him. “Seriously? I am going out with him, Perry.”
“Is that what you call it, because I’ve barely seen you two together since we pulled anchor.”
Lynette shot him a warning glare, then quickly changed the subject. “So what did Anders say? Was it natural causes?”
“I assume so. I said, ‘Cut the crap, Doc, what does that even mean?’ and he said, ‘Heart attack. Period.’ Then he said, ‘Please tell Alicia so she can relax and play a game of shuffleboard.’” He thought about this. “Not a bad idea, actually, who’s up?”
Claire raised a hand. “Oh me, me! That sounds dreamy!”
“I’d rather slit my wrists and feed myself to the sharks,” Lynette said. “Besides, I’ve already booked in to the Chef’s Tour that’s on in half an hour. They’re opening up the galley.”
“Oh excuse me while I yawn,” said Perry. He turned to Alicia. “Are you going to do as the doctor ordered and join me for a game?”
“Fine.”
“Good, but first I need the greasiest bacon and eggs I can get my mittens on!”
As he trotted off towards the buffet, Alicia stood up and stretched.
“Now where are you off to?” her sister asked.
“I’m heading back to the medical centre,” she replied, and to their collective smirks added, “Well even a busy doctor’s gotta eat doesn’t he? I’m going to see if he wants to join us for lunch.”
Anders had no time for lunch and told Alicia as much when she found him standing by the nurse’s station, shuffling through papers. Beside him stood a curvaceous redhead with a gravity-defying cleavage and an efficient look on her face.
He introduced her as Nurse Mandy, then said, “I’ll just be a second, Dee,” and pulled Alicia back out into the passage.
Dee? she thought, pulling her hands from his. Anders has a pet name for his busty nurse? Wasn’t that a little forward? An image of the two medicos’ naked bodies entwined across the reception desk flashed through her mind, and she shook it away.
“I know you’re busy, Anders. I just wondered when you’re getting some time off, that’s all. Maybe we could grab some lunch or a coffee later? I don’t see any patients in your waiting room.”
“No, but there is one on the slab.”
“Yes, I know, and I’m sorry about that. Poor lady, she seemed like a lot of fun. And it was just a heart attack, right?”
“I have taken some samples, but yes, that’s the current diagnosis.” He looked at her sideways. “Why?”
“Nothing. I’m just wondering what her friend had to say.”
“Friend?”
“Isn’t she sharing the cabin with someone?”
“As far as I know, she has the whole suite to herself. Why would you think that?”
“Because Lynette and I saw her go into her room last night with another woman—tall, long blond hair I think.” She stopped. Missy was right. “Looked a lot like the captain’s wife.”
“Corrie? You saw Corrie go into the cabin with the deceased?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. I wasn’t really paying attention. We were at the lift, and we didn’t see much although we heard them singing and carrying on. They were both clearly drunk, tottering about.”
“Really.” He rubbed his chin, deep in thought.
“Yep. And the other woman was wearing a captain’s hat
, so…”
It sealed the deal for Alicia, but Anders was now shaking his head.
“I really don’t think Corrie would be tottering through the ship, drunk and singing at the top of her lungs let alone wearing a captain’s hat. I think we can credit her with a little more class than that. The woman you saw was probably just a friend, putting poor Mrs Jollson to bed. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well. It doesn’t mean she had anything to do with it.”
“To do with what? I thought it was a heart attack.”
“Yes, of course, but, well, we’re keeping an open mind, that’s all.”
“Do you want me to track her down, the woman in the green dress? Ask her a few questions?”
“No I do not! This is exactly why I explained it in laborious detail to Perry. I was hoping he’d pass it along to you and you’d let me get on with it.” He shook his head for good measure. “Cecilia Jollson most likely died of a myocardial infarction—that’s a heart attack to you—in the early hours of this morning as far as I can tell. I can’t know more until we get her medical history sent out from London and an autopsy done, and that can’t happen until we get to shore, but she was sixty-nine and she may have a history of heart problems. That’s all there is to it.”
Alicia considered this and went to say something but thought better of it. She tried to lighten the mood with a smile. “Okay, just trying to help.”
His eyes softened a little along with his tone. “You know not every mystery is yours to solve, Alicia. Some deaths are best left to the experts.”
Well, that’s me put back in my box, she thought, her smile straining. “So does that mean you will have some time for lunch?” He shook his head firmly. “But there’s nothing you can do for her now, surely?” She knew she sounded churlish, and the look in his eyes confirmed it.
“Alicia, it’s a death at sea, that’s a pretty big deal.”
“Of course it is, I didn’t mean—”
