“Holy crap!” I gasped, astounded to be holding this digital treasure. It was a moment of personal triumph. Miz Scarlet has done it again! Too bad I couldn’t plug it into a computer and see what secrets were on it before I handed it over, but I dared not risk damaging the evidence. With a reluctant sigh, I got to my feet.
And that’s when I heard a faint sound at the door, a slight scratching of metal on metal that electrified the hair on the back of my neck. If Kenny and Eleanor were talking upstairs, who was trying to work the lock? I forced myself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Don’t give yourself away, Miz Scarlet. Don’t let on that you know someone is watching. Call Kenny and tell him you’re done, and if he asks you if you had any success, say no.
Maybe another passenger saw the lights on and thought there was time to pick out a book for bedtime. Or another security officer was passing by and thought something was wrong. Or the killer had noticed us hanging out with Kathleen and got suspicious. By now, the news must have circulated that the man who went overboard was dead. Even if the security office acknowledged his death and pretended it was an accident, the real culprit knew the truth. Kenny’s warning went through my head, pushing me into action.
“Hello up there!” I called out, in an overly cheerful voice. “I’m done!”
Kenny came to the railing and hailed me.
“I hope you’re having better luck than we are,” he said, a little frustration slipping into his voice.
“Unfortunately, I’m not,” I shouted back, hoping to convince the watcher on the other side of the door that he was still safe from discovery. “There’s nothing here.”
“Too bad. Time’s running out. I guess we should call it a night.”
“Yes, we should.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire! I could barely contain my enthusiasm as I held the miniature SD card in my quivering hand. I managed to slip the paperback down my blouse, using my bra to hold it against my chest. James Bond would be proud, I decided. So would George.
When the lights went out upstairs in Royal Caribbean Online, I felt a tinge of panic. For the next few minutes, there would be no one close by to hear me if I screamed. The seconds ticked by as I stood frozen, listening for a stealthy click of the tumbler in the lock. Maybe I should have said something. Maybe I should have asked Eleanor to send for backup. What can I do if the killer gains entry to the library? Should I pummel him with books? I quickly sought out the larger tomes, desperate to arm myself. I wondered if the ship’s library had The Complete Works of Shakespeare handy. A weighty book like that was worthy of walloping a murderer, provided I could lift it from the shelf. Unfortunately, I didn’t see a copy. In lieu of that, I decided The New Oxford American Dictionary would be an acceptable substitute. I can probably put a good-sized dent in the killer’s cranium and teach him not to mess with me, as long as I can aim straight.
“Scarlet, we’re coming in!” The moment I heard Kenny’s voice on the other side of the door, it filled me with such sweet relief that I nearly cried out and gave myself away. Halleluiah, it will be okay. I’ve got George’s evidence and soon it will be safe in the office of the Royal Caribbean security team. Chalk one up for the good guys.
Kenny and Eleanor made small talk on our way back to the security office. I was afraid to say anything, lest I give myself away. It seemed to take forever before we turned the corner and reached our destination.
Despite the late hour, the security office was still crowded. Half a dozen blue-shirted people sat at monitors, watching the activities all over the ship.
“You said you want to talk to the big boss. Let me notify him, sir,” said Eleanor. “I’ll just be a moment.”
She disappeared through an open door. I made a point of wrapping my arms around Kenny’s waist and resting my head against his shoulder while we waited.
“I’m absolutely beat,” I announced. “How about you?”
“I am too.”
I took his hand in mine, carefully placing the itty bitty SD card in his palm and folding those long, lovely fingers of his around it. He started to say something, but I gave him a wink.
“Et voilà! Don’t say I never give you anything,” I grinned. I turned my back briefly, not wanting to provide a peep show for the curious eyes that were now watching us.
“You got the book?” He was flabbergasted. “But you said....”
“I heard someone on the other side of the door, trying to work the lock. I couldn’t see who it was, but just in case it was the murderer, I didn’t want to alert him to the fact that I found what George hid.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I did, remember? That’s when you came to get me.”
“Next time, we should have a code word,” he decided. “It would have been nice to catch the guy in the act.”
“In the act of what, killing me? I thought it was far more important to protect the evidence.”
“That’s a valid point,” he told me. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the tiny digital chip in the palm of his hand. “I did tell you to be careful, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did.”
“Wow, you actually found the book.” Kenny abandoned his usual sense of public propriety and planted a big, wet kiss on my lips. “I’m very proud of you, Miz Scarlet.”
“I’m proud of me too,” I giggled.
“Ken Doll, have you come to admit defeat?” Marley Hornsby strode into the room with all the confidence of a winner, a wide grin plastered on his amused face. How I longed to wipe it off!
“May I,” I implored Kenny, “pretty please, with sugar on top?”
“I wouldn’t dream of denying you your due, my dear.” He slipped the micro SD card back into my hand. “Go for it.”
“Here you are, Marley.” I announced gleefully. “This is what the killer was searching for in Kathleen Delaney’s stateroom.”
“What?” The disbelieving security boss stared down at the tiny black plastic card I held out to him. “Where did you find it?”
“It was in the Ofer Library on Deck 7. Apparently George hid it in a book, under the seat cushion of a club chair.”
Kenny and I explained how we came to find the clues left behind by a dead man. I could tell Marley was interested, although he tried not to show it.
“What’s on this?” he asked nonchalantly as he attempted to retrieve the tiny black treasure trove of saved secrets that sat on the palm of my extended hand. His big fingertips couldn’t get a grip on it.
“Allow me,” I smiled, placing it in his hand.
For a brief second, I flashed back to the era of microfilm dots and spies in tuxedoes drinking martinis in casinos. The days of Goldfinger were over. No magnifying glass would quickly reveal the secrets we sought. We actually had to insert the miniscule SD card into an adapter to read the files on a computer. “And to answer your question, we don’t actually know yet. We didn’t want to damage it.”
“Smart. Harkin!”
“Yo!” said a pony-tailed young man in a colorful Hawaiian shirt and chinos, joining our mystery-revealing scrum.
“Can you set us up?” Marley handed it off to the newcomer before turning back to us. “Harkin’s our techie.”
“Sure, boss. I’ll make a copy first, though, if this is going to be considered as evidence in court. I wouldn’t want to accidentally delete it or anything.”
“Fine. Hey, Smoelek!” Marley hollered to a man hunched over a desk twenty feet away. “Did we find the victim’s phone when we recovered the body?”
“We did not.”
“I don’t suppose either of you knows whether the widow has it.” Marley set his sights on us and paused, expecting an answer.
“As far as I know, she doesn’t.”
“You didn’t actually ask her though, did you?” he demanded, waiting impatiently for me to admit that fact.
“Kenny and I helped her pick up the mess the killer left in the room. She showed us her husband’s fake cans, where
he stashed his money and valuables; and his shoes, where he liked to keep his bank PIN and his lock combination. She even opened the safe to check if anything was missing. I did not see a phone anywhere.”
“In other words, you still don’t know for certain whether or not she knows where it is.”
“I....” I was about to reiterate my exasperated point when Kenny stepped in.
“No, we do not have confirmation on that, Horny. We’ll ask her when we go back to our staterooms. She’s staying with us.”
“Is she?” That seemed to surprise him.
“Well, of course she is. We couldn’t let the killer take a whack at her, could we? We saw what was done to her stateroom. She’s a woman alone and vulnerable,” I pointed out. “Or would you have preferred we toss her out on her fanny and let the wolves of the world do with her what they will?”
Chapter Ten --
Now that we had some physical evidence to support the claim that Kathleen was innocent and there was a madman on the ship, it was time for Marley to admit he’d acted like a doofus. Not that I expected him to do it. He was far too stubborn, and from what I’d seen, he had some serious issues with women. He proved it a moment later when I was uninvited to the unveiling of the micro SD card.
“Scarlet, why don’t you take a seat? We’ll let you know if we need you.” Marley shooed me away like he was the neighborhood alley cat and I was a pesky little rodent who had the nerve to tread on his turf in search of a decent piece of cheddar. Well, I had news for him. This little mouse was ready to rumble.
“Give it back.” I stuck my hand out.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s not your case. You have no legal jurisdiction. You’re not active FBI. I’ll wait until the agents arrive, so give the SD card back to me and I’ll hold onto it.”
“I think not!” Marley snarled. Harkin stood there, unsure of what to do.
“I think so! I didn’t just bust my fanny so you could claim all the credit for work you did not do. As far as I am concerned, this card does not belong to Royal Caribbean or its employees. You have no legal right to hold it, and if you think you’re going to exclude me from seeing what I just spent a couple of hours working to find, you can just kiss my....”
“Okay, okay!” he growled, interrupting my tirade with a wave of his hand. “Don’t have a freaking cow!”
“I’ll have a freaking cow if I want to, pal! You’re not Old MacDonald, in charge of the barnyard animals. You crossed the line and got called on it. Don’t try to make me the bad guy responsible for your bad behavior!” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a small smirk on Kenny’s face. He was enjoying the show, no doubt because Marley Hornsby had unexpectedly run head first into an immovable object, namely me.
“You’re a civilian, Miz Scarlet. You’re not trained law enforcement. I’m extending an invitation for you to join us, but I want to make it clear that I’m not required to include you in anything related to Royal Caribbean security.”
Long before I became an innkeeper, I taught high school. I’ve dealt with all kinds of kids and seen all kinds of antics. I know a bully when I see one. Bring it on, Marley!
“What comes next?” I demanded, moving forward until I was a mere foot from his face. He suddenly started to back away from me, but changed his mind and sidestepped me instead. “You’re going to tell me to sit in the back of the class and be a good girl while the professionals handle it? I hate to break it to you, but that’s just not on my ‘to-do’ list.”
“You have to be one of the most obstinate, hard-headed, cantankerous women I have ever....”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, coming from you!” I fired back.
“People, can we end this tinkle tournament and get back to business?” Kenny wanted to know. His arms were folded against his chest, a frown on his face. “While the bickering continues, a killer may be making plans.”
“Fine by me,” I declared, looking Marley right in the eye with my best steely gaze. He tried to match it, but in the end, he blinked first.
“Harkin, do you have that damn thing ready?” said the flush-faced security boss.
“Yup, I do,” was the reply. By now, the others in the room were eager to find out what we’d found, but most had to stay at their consoles, monitoring the surveillance cameras. “Let me cue it up on the media player.”
Less than a minute later, we were looking at the first video George Delaney filmed with his cell phone. It was long shot of a man talking to a woman. They seemed to be arguing animatedly.
“Can you improve the clarity?” the big boss demanded.
“Probably not,” was Harkin’s genial reply.
“Do we have anyone on staff who can read lips?”
“I can, sir,” said Eleanor. “But I think they’re too far away and the angle is wrong.”
“This is only the first of three videos on the card, Marley,” the tech wizard told him. “Why don’t we try the next?”
“No, wait. Can we see it on a bigger monitor? Maybe that will help, even if the resolution is still poor.”
We all stepped into a conference room two doors down. At one end, a large screen was mounted on the wall. Standing around, we waited to see the first video again. This time, the one thing that stood out was that the woman was definitely not Kathleen Delaney. Even though the facial features were not clear, it was obvious that her hair was a different style and color. She was also at least a head taller.
“Roll the next one,” Marley instructed his tech man. Harkin hit a button and the new video began. This time, the camera seemed to be held by George in his lap, as if he wanted to capture the conversation without alarming his targets. Judging from what little we could see, he was sitting at the “adults only” pool on Deck 11. Occasionally, we caught a glimpse of a man doing laps in the background.
“When are we going to do it?” a woman, off-camera, asked.
“When we’re leaving Bermuda,” replied an unseen man.
“You’re going to have to give her the sedative. There’s no other way.”
“I can’t risk that showing up in an autopsy. I told you that before.”
“The last time we tried this, she fought back. You know how hard it was to explain the bruises. Her sister asked too many questions.”
“Let me worry about that. I can control her.”
“Excuse me, sir. Would you care for a towel?” A pool attendant stepped into the shot. All we saw was a pile of cotton terrycloth.
“No, I’m good. Thanks,” said an unfamiliar voice, as a hand covered the camera. I guessed the speaker was George.
“Come on,” said the woman a moment later. “Let’s get out of here.”
The camera popped up from George’s lap in time to record them walking away. From behind, the couple seemed to be in their mid-thirties, both thin and fairly tall. Dressed in a long turquoise pool dress and tan sandals, she was only a few inches shorter than he. Her long golden brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail and it swished back and forth each time she took a step. Without any distinguishing features, she could have been any woman of that age on the Liberty of the Seas. I dare say the same could be said of him. His short dark hair must have been just starting to go grey because it had the appearance of being washed out. He was dressed in plaid Bermuda shorts and a dark shirt. On his feet were dark sandals. He was, however, wearing a dark watch on his left wrist. Would that help to identify him? I didn’t think so. It’s not like we could see the watch face to note the type of watch or brand.
“Nothing stands out on them,” said Eleanor.
“They look like the dictionary definition of ‘ordinary’,” I remarked. I was beginning to feel disappointment creeping into my soul. I held such high hopes for George’s treasure. Maybe there was more.
George continued to record their exit from the adult pool, abandoning caution as they got farther away. As soon as they were out of sight, he let out an expletive. “I can’t believe they just said that! Damn, tha
t poor woman is in danger! I’m going to follow them. Maybe I can find out where they’re staying.”
Our initial enthusiasm for finding evidence that detailed a killer’s ruthless act turned to something else as we heard a dead man’s declaration. The only reason George Delaney was murdered was because he had the bad luck to overhear this couple’s devious plan and he tried to stop them. At least now we knew the killer had an accomplice...and possibly another soon-to-be victim.
“The last bit of video’s coming up,” Harkin announced. He hit the “play” button and we all watched a scene unfold in the Royal Promenade.
George still had his phone in hand, but this time, he was strolling through the shopping mall. I recognized the cupcake shop, Ben and Jerry’s, and then the pizza place. His camera hand swung back and forth as he walked, keeping pace with his stride. For those of us viewing it, the experience was akin to being on a perpetual motion amusement park ride from hell. Every once in a while, he raised the camera, trying to catch a glimpse of his elusive target, but when he did, all we saw were the faces of those coming at us and the backs of people moving away. The funeral director was on a mission, however, and when his frustration level rose, he took a chance and pushed through the crowd. That’s when we all saw a flash of the female accomplice, but only in profile. Suddenly, George’s hand yanked the camera down to his side and we were left to stare at the floor of the mall as an angry woman berated him.
“Are you following me?”
“What?” George feigned shock. “No. No. Of course I’m not.”
“I think you are! Is that a camera in your hand? Let me see it!”
“Lady, I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m just shopping.”
“Who hired you? Was it Vicky? Are you a private detective?”
“Hardly,” was his honest reply.
“I demand that you stop following me!” As she screamed at him, I prayed he would lift that damn camera and show us her face. Instead, everything went dark unexpectedly as he thrust it in his pocket.
“Lady, you’re starting to sound paranoid. Why would I want to follow you? I’m a happily married man.”
[Scarlet Wilson 05] - Miz Scarlet and the Perplexed Passenger Page 9
