Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery Box Set

by Anna Celeste Burke

  “That's helpful to know, Georgie.”

  “Just don’t ask me what a big Texas jewelry salesman would be doing with baby powder, so maybe you’re right that there’s a woman involved.”

  “We did find that loose gem in Abby’s cabin, so maybe Jake Nugent had been there. If Martin Santo wasn’t the only man in her life on board this cruise that could have made things even more complicated,” Jack offered.

  “If she was involved with both Jake Nugent and Martin Santo that could explain why Martin Santo slit Jake Nugent’s throat this morning.”

  “Could be. The guy they tossed overboard before they turned on each other could have been another of Abby’s suitors if she was working all the men in the theft ring. We still don't know what Jake was doing with that fake necklace. Maybe he and Abby were planning to replace the stolen necklace with the phony one and keep the original—or already had the original, and that's what that search was about.”

  “Well on a ship with a man overboard and no missing passenger—why not a stolen necklace that gets stolen a second time? It fits with the notion that the murder and mayhem is about double-dealing. Tina must have found it, since we didn’t when we went through Abby’s cabin. Or it was never in there in the first place. How did Tina miss that gem and that shoe?”

  “That seems odd to me. The gem is tiny, so I could see her missing that or leaving it behind. That shoe’s another matter. Maybe you had it right when you said this is about two-timing as well as double-dealing. Maybe she found the mate and left the other one behind. If all she was out to do was prove that Martin Santo had been unfaithful, finding one of his shoes in that cabin would have done the job. She had to be in a bigger hurry than we were and, if that cabin is any indication of Tina’s state of mind, she could not have been thinking clearly.”

  “Or, maybe she found the necklace before she got around to checking for anything under the bed. At least you all got to Jake Nugent’s cabin before anyone else did. You searched it, didn’t you?”

  “Yes—not the way Tina, or someone else, searched Abby’s cabin. Bill secured Jake Nugent’s cabin immediately this morning. His luggage was still there, and we went through that thoroughly. No real necklace or fake gems. No nail polish or baby powder or any of that stuff, either, even though we didn’t know we were looking for those items, then. I’m confident we would have noticed anything that suggested a woman had been in that cabin. The only person caught on film going in or out of that room in addition to Jake Nugent, was room service and the ship’s steward bringing fresh towels and cleaning up.”

  “Without the dead bodies, this would almost be comical. Not very stealthy to create as much commotion as they have on this ship and yet they remain hidden. They're everywhere and nowhere all at once.”

  “I agree. Not the most professional gang of thieves. Yet, getting their hands on Marsha Stevens’ necklace without her noticing it was being taken was a slick move.”

  “A big score for amateurs, too, if that’s what they are. I still don’t get why Marsha Stevens would risk wearing a quarter-million-dollars’ worth of jewelry on a cruise. Even though she still has the earrings, that necklace was a big loss. I haven’t seen the list Bill gave you of all the missing and stolen jewelry items. If the tennis bracelet and engagement ring are indications of what they steal, that necklace has to be worth more than the rest combined even including the expensive watches lifted from men at the spa.”

  “I have seen the list, and you are correct.” Jack had more to say, but our hostess returned with two glasses of champagne and a couple of oysters. Those oysters weren’t meant to be eaten. Apart from the excellent wine list with several fine wines in a category they called “Bottled Pearls,” the establishment’s claim to fame was oysters guaranteed to contain a pearl. Cultured pearls, to be sure, but still a charming souvenir of a cruise to the South Seas.

  “On the house,” she said as she set those oysters down with our drinks. “Happy honeymoon!” Then she went to work, opening those oysters in front of us.

  “What a pleasant surprise,” I said.

  “Wow, these are beauties!” she exclaimed a couple of minutes later. She held each one up, then rinsed, and dried them before slipping them into a tiny velvet bag. “Can I bring you anything else?”

  “Champagne and pearls are perfect,” I replied. “Thank you so much.”

  “Thank you,” Jack added. “We’ll have to take off for dinner in a few minutes. Will you need anything else from us?”

  “No, we swiped your card when you came in, so you’re all set.”

  “I have a quick question. What do you do if you seat a guest who doesn’t have a card with them?”

  “I’d apologize, but I wouldn’t seat them until they went and got it,” she replied. “Those cards make sure no one can charge to the wrong cabin—accidently or on purpose. Part of the fantasy on MMW’s Fantasy of the Sea is the cashless world. Hopefully, that means less worry about money during the trip. All-inclusive means just that—if you opt for that package. Convenient, huh?” our waitress asked.

  “Marvelous,” I said. “What else would you expect from MMW Fantasy of the Sea?”

  “Just keep that card handy, and all your dreams can come true,” she said picking up the items she’d used to serve us.

  Jack wasn’t ready to let her go quite yet. “Is there any way someone could be seated here, or at the bar, and drinking without a card with them?”

  Our hostess thought about that for a moment. “Well, if they came in with someone else—like the two of you—only one member of the party has to have a card with them. Is that what you’re asking?”

  “Yes,” Jack nodded, and then muttered, “I think so.” In a louder voice, he thanked our hostess, and she slipped away.

  “You’re thinking about Justin’s encounter with Martin Santo, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. It’s possible that Justin was telling us the truth. Since Martin Santo doesn’t show up on the passenger manifest, he couldn’t have had a key card. If he had already started drinking before Justin sat down, he must have had another companion picking up the tab before he bummed drinks from Justin.”

  “All the transactions in here are time-stamped, I’m sure. You might be able to identify his earlier drinking companion.”

  “You’re right. I’ll ask Bill for the names of other passengers who bought drinks an hour or so before Justin made his first purchase. Maybe we’ll find a name we recognize.”

  “Or a new one that matters, Jack.”

  “That’s possible, too, although we need more suspects like we need a hole in the head,” Jack said.

  “I was wondering about that. This series of escapades is like a less well-organized version of the operation in that Ocean’s Eleven movie where they robbed the casino. Three men in the fight this morning, two women passengers helping lift jewelry, plus at least two crew members if Gerard’s right that more than one person was involved in disputes in the commissary. That’s seven people already, and Justin makes eight.”

  “Yeah, not all that surprising that they’ve started killing each other if you look at it that way, is it?” Jack asked. “Too many mouths to feed, even with that bonanza they scored stealing that necklace.”

  “Or maybe because of that windfall. To some people that necklace may look like a ticket out of thievery. This could have become a game of winner-takes-all.”

  “Which may also mean more bodies yet to come, Georgie. Whoever helped shove that man overboard and then killed Jake Nugent reduced the number of contenders for a share early this morning. Eight has gone down to six just like that!” Jack snapped his fingers for emphasis.

  “It’s an even bigger chunk for each of the remaining members of the ring if they’re using hired hands, like Justin, and not everyone expects a cut. Their paid help may not even understand what they’re mixed up in if they’re no brighter than their patsy sitting in the brig.”

  “Bill seems to think unwitting passengers like Justin are
easy to find on a cruise like this one. It had to be a crew member who gave them information about the surveillance system on board. Grabbing that Perroquet costume required familiarity with what goes on in that theater. Getting away with covering those camera lenses was tricky too. Slipping a few bucks to hired hands may reduce the number of people expecting a cut of the loot, but it increases the number of people who can get in the way or give them away, like Justin. I’m convinced there’s a crew member doing double-duty as part of this theft ring.”

  “I hear you, Jack.”

  “Crew members aren’t allowed to drink with the passengers, from what I understand. Reviewing the transactions at the bar won’t help if that’s the case.”

  “Some staff members can fraternize, I believe. Ask Bill when you call him about getting that list of sales transactions from the bar. They must flag charges to staff accounts. It ought to at least be easy to figure out if anyone from the ship’s crew was in here while Martin Santo was drinking his sorrows away at the bar.”

  “If that’s what he was doing. Who knows why he was flashing that stolen engagement ring around.” Jack shook his head as he sipped champagne. “Drunks are as bad as amateurs.”

  “Drowning his sorrows might be what he was doing if he was the two-timer involved in a romantic triangle with Tina and Abby, and got caught. That would make more sense, though, if he’d been the one who ended up overboard or dead on Deck 6.”

  “Not necessarily if Abby was doing to him what he was doing to Tina Marston. Martin Santo could have been angry enough to take out the other two men with him this morning if this is about jealousy. That fake necklace in Jake Nugent’s possession must mean there’s more than one kind of hanky-panky going on. Martin Santo had to be out of the loop or he would never have left it behind. That tied the murder and the thefts together from the very beginning.”

  “Marsha Stevens can’t help you make any connection between her and Jake Nugent? There must be one for him to have brought that fake necklace with him on this cruise,” I argued, as my suspicions shifted back to her.

  “Marsha Stevens says no. She claims she never met the man—not even on this cruise. If he was among the men in that crowd you saw around her at the bar, he didn’t make a lasting impression because she doesn’t remember bumping into him there. I believe her. You had your eye on her and that necklace, I’m sure you would have noticed if the dead guy on Deck 6 was one of her suitors that night.”

  “Jake Nugent was a big man—I could tell that even when he was sprawled on the ground. None of the guys at the bar with Marsha Stevens stood out in the height department. Still, Jake was well-connected to the jewelry business. He certainly would have known someone capable of making a knockoff. Could he have had a copy made and shipped to him to pick up at one of our stops along the way?”

  “You spotted it as a fake right away, so it wasn’t the highest quality copy. Maybe that’s because it was a rush job. I can’t conceive of any way they could have gotten a copy made and on board this ship in less than a week, though. If we were back in the OC, I’d have a bunch of colleagues to consult. With a few more days, I’d have time to find out things like how fast a copy of a piece of jewelry can be made. We’d be able to run more thorough background checks on these hooligans to see if the ones we can identify have crossed paths before—including the owner of that necklace who’s still a person of interest. It’s even more unfortunate that our list of suspects is still incomplete if it’s also true that we’re looking for an unknown number of crew members. What’s more frustrating is that we can’t locate any of the known suspects within the confined space of this ship. Heck, we don’t even know the identity of our second victim. We’re running out of time, and the only good news about that is that the thieves only have a little more time to kill each other before this ship docks in Tahiti.”

  “I understand, Jack. I’m feeling the pressure from Max and the FBI breathing down our necks, so it’s got to be worse for you. Time running out isn’t all bad. In another day or two at the most, we’ll just be a newly married couple on the next leg of our honeymoon. Good riddance, I say, whether this has all been figured out or not.”

  “I’ll drink to that, Georgie, my love,” Jack added, giving my glass a little clink. “Let me call Bill and then let’s go have dinner and then we’ll call it a day, okay?”

  In my mind, I imagined an enormous clock. Instead of wishing that it would slow down, I willed it to speed up! Tomorrow, when we arrived at Bora Bora we’d turn this whole nightmare over to the FBI. Let Max tell them he needs answers when he struts on deck in Tahiti. By then, we’ll have shared all we know with the investigative team taking over the case. With our job done, we can wave as we run for it—off this ship just as Max is coming aboard.

  “Aah!” I said feeling like I could breathe again for the first time since that text message from Max.

  14 Not a Bora Bora

  It was eight o’clock on the dot when we finally arrived at The Captain’s Table. The small, exquisite dining spot only seated guests twice each night—6:00 and 8:00. We had expected to be late to our dinner at six because of that dessert-fest, but even being fashionably late became an impossibility once we caught up with Bill and Maggie at Abby Kinkaid’s cabin. At 6:30, I had given up and called to cancel our reservation. The maître d’ offered us a place at the later seating, and I took it, hoping to salvage some shred of day 8 of our honeymoon cruise, just for Jack and me.

  A few minutes after our arrival, we sat at one of two elegantly appointed tables as a dozen guests settled in around us. No captain or captain’s mate headed either table tonight. One sign that a search was still underway for a missing passenger. Usually, Gerard or another high-ranking chef, like Paolo, sat at the head of the second table. They were absent tonight, too, dealing with the upheaval from a change in the ship's routine.

  Except for the wall of windows open to a view of the sea and the night sky, the dining room was paneled in polished exotic woods. It felt intimate. More like a library or a private dining room than a restaurant. Gleaming brass embellishments conveyed a nautical theme in a subtle way. On one wall, an ornate wood and glass cabinet housed the fine wines served with our dinner.

  A flash of light caught my eye as a beam swept back and forth on the surface of the water. A second sign that this was no ordinary evening in a lavish dining room on a luxury cruise.

  Subdued conversation ensued as the staff moved around us, pouring water and handing us menus with the limited options available featuring Chef Gerard’s choices for the evening. That included recommendations for wine to accompany each course.

  The French in French Polynesia was emphasized on the menu tonight. I wondered how much Gerard had counted on being able to put into port today to pick up supplies for this dinner. Could he possibly have all the fresh ingredients for a red and yellow beet carpaccio with walnuts, goat cheese, mesclun greens, in a balsamic vinaigrette? It made me tired just thinking about how much Gerard must have had to scramble to alter menu options given the sudden detour our cruise had taken. No wonder he wasn’t around.

  I ordered duck magret with fig and port sauce as my main dish—even though I had no doubt that Gerard’s seafood feuillette had to be delicious. The lure of the puff pastry in that dish must have overcome my husband’s usual preference for a well-prepared filet mignon. He had forgone the steak au poivre for the savory blend of fresh shrimp, scallops, and lobster served in a flaky pastry case. We both declined to order dessert given the binge we’d had earlier this evening. Plus, there were more goodies in those take-out boxes stowed away in our cabin.

  I reached under the table and gave Jack’s hand a squeeze. I hoped that would help put the more disagreeable sights of the day out of my mind. It worked.

  “Newlyweds, aren’t you?” The passenger seated on my right asked.

  “Yes. How did you know?” She waited a moment to respond to my question. Our servers were back pouring the wine paired with our choice of appetizers.
Once they had moved on to other guests at our table, she spoke up again.

  “No big secret or anything. I’m Hetty Green,” she said offering her hand for me to shake. “I overheard you talking to Chef Gerard when you were in here earlier this week.” She leaned closer and in a quieter voice said, “I eat here every night. My husband, God rest his soul, was a ship’s captain and I pull strings to make sure I’m a regular.”

  “How wonderful for you, Hetty. I’m Georgie Shaw, and this is my husband, Jack Wheeler.”

  “You’re that detective, aren’t you?” she asked without skipping a beat. I nearly fell off my chair. Jack appeared to be more composed as he shook the hand she had shoved under my nose.

  “I am a detective, true. I’m not sure if I’m ‘that’ detective.”

  “Oh sure, sure, I know.” She lowered her voice again, twisting in her seat to get closer before speaking, “I was told your investigation is hush-hush.”

  “Told, by whom?” I asked.

  “I can’t disclose my sources, now can I? I’m no stranger to the bridge or the crew there. My Harry and I were always welcome no matter what was going on. I’m still granted special privileges except when there’s trouble like today. That doesn’t mean they can send me packing without answering a question or two.” Hetty paused to take a sip of the wine poured for her.

  “Besides, I’m no fool when it comes to shipboard trouble. Oscar wasn’t the only code word that went out over the speakers today. Here’s a tip. If you see me scooting toward a lifeboat, follow me!”

  “Will do! Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” I said. Despite my shock at how much she knew about Jack and me, I liked Hetty Green immediately. The large, sturdy-looking senior citizen wore a bright Polynesian floral print, floor-length dress. More fitted than a muumuu or a caftan, it still seemed to flow about her as she sat down. That added to the breezy free-spirited vibe she exuded as she spoke.

  “If you haven’t taken a tour of the bridge you should. There’s no place like it. Even better than a visit to the commissary.”