A Christmas Cruise Murder
Page 10
“Speak of the devil.” Rachel saw the security chief coming in through the double doors, followed by Raggie, the medical team steward. Raggie was carrying a tray of coffee.
“I know you like strong coffee, Miss Rachel, so I brought it up myself. Can I get you something to eat?”
“Actually, that would be great. I feel ravenous for some reason – it must be all that lost blood.”
“Full English coming up, then.”
“Er hum,” Waverley coughed. “I can’t apologise enough, Rachel. If I had suspected for one moment you might be in any danger, I would never have asked you to involve yourself in this business. I’ve been selfish and that was wrong of me.”
“Don’t worry about it, I don’t think I was in any real danger. I think this was more of a warning to stop asking questions. They had time to do a lot more damage with the knife if they had wanted to.”
“And perhaps we should take that warning seriously,” said Sarah.
“Quite,” said Waverley. “I don’t suppose you can tell me any more about the incident? Sean has filled me in on what he saw, which wasn’t very much, to be honest.”
“Me neither. I was running laps when someone tripped me up. I thought I had a vision of a fox when I was on the ground, then whoever it was added a few warning blows. I was kicked and stabbed, but not anywhere that would cause serious damage. Either the attacker didn’t know what they were doing or it was, as I’ve said, a warning. I’m inclined to think it was the latter.”
“I agree, it certainly looks that way. It must have been someone who knows about you, though, which should narrow it down.”
“I’ve quizzed the waiters in the Club Restaurant, that’s all, but you forget, I ate openly with Sarah, Jason and her parents on day one, and we met in Creams yesterday. If someone was observing what the investigation was uncovering, they may have guessed I was involved.”
“In which case, anyone could have attacked you, but I’m leaning towards one of the restaurant staff. I think our killer is among that group and it’s a small list.”
“Possibly, but there’s still Brenda’s father and—”
Waverley looked as though he’d been hit. “Brenda’s father? And who else?”
Rachel realised Jason hadn’t got around to informing his boss of other suspects being present on the ship and she’d let it out.
“Sorry, Jason found out on the first sea day. He was tired and must have forgotten to mention it; I don’t think he would be hiding it from you.”
Waverley huffed loudly and his frown caused her to feel sorry for Jason, but how was she to know Jason hadn’t told his boss already?
She changed the subject. “Is there CCTV footage of the running deck?”
“Yes, there is. Ravanos and Mitchell are going through it now. I’ll let you know if we find anything.”
Rachel poured a second mug of coffee as Raggie arrived with breakfast. “I brought you some too, Nurse. I know you’ve been on call all night.”
“Thank you, Raggie. I don’t know where we would all be without you.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” announced Waverley sullenly. He jumped up from the end of Rachel’s bed and stomped out of the infirmary.
“I’m so sorry,” said Rachel to Sarah as she buttered a slice of toast and tucked into a sausage. “I didn’t know Jason hadn’t told him.”
“Me neither. He’ll have his reasons, but I wouldn’t like to be in his shoes right now.” Sarah’s colour was coming back; Rachel realised her friend worried about her and she’d probably had little sleep.
“How was your night?”
“Full of accident-prone drunken revellers, since you ask.”
“Well, it is Christmas.”
“Not yet it isn’t, but the party’s started early for some. Anyway it was nothing too dramatic, just lots of call outs. Alex was on too so he helped out.”
Alex was a popular member of the medical team, and according to Sarah, he never ducked out of his duties – unlike some doctors her friend said she’d worked with on land.
“I assume the revellers were passengers.” Rachel enjoyed hearing about Sarah’s work and the antics people got up to when on board. If she didn’t know Sarah, she would think every cruise was a dream and no-one ever got sick or injured, but it was hard for her to imagine a cruise like that anymore.
“Passengers mostly. A couple of teenagers play-acting ended up in the pool and one of them cut his foot after he dropped a bottle on his way in.”
“Is he alright?”
“In terms of injury, yes – a small amount of glue required. But he won’t be alright if the head pool attendant finds him because the pool had to be drained, scrubbed, disinfected and refilled.”
“Blimey! I didn’t even know the pools were uncovered at this time of year.”
“That’s the other thing that annoyed the pool attendants. They are in daylight hours, but not at night. The lads thought it would be fun to go for a starlight swim; the idiots removed the cover, and then got the shock of their lives when security gave them an ear-bashing before escorting them back to their rooms. They got their comeuppance, though, as Ravanos knocked up all the parents to tell them about the incident and warn them that if their offspring didn’t behave responsibly from now on, they would be escorted off ship in Madeira and would have to make their own way home.”
Rachel laughed. “I’m sure that did the trick.”
“I think it did. Then I got called to see a woman who was vomiting.”
“Not the dreaded norovirus?”
“No, too much alcohol. By the time I arrived, she was fast asleep and her partner apologised for calling me out.”
Rachel and Sarah chatted for ages about Sarah’s night before she checked the clock. “I’d better go and shower before morning surgery. You can leave whenever you want to. Do you want Raggie to get you some clean clothes?”
“No thanks, I’ll put on a pair of your scrubs and take a shower when I get back to my room.” Rachel rose timidly from the bed. “And Sarah?”
“What?”
“Not a word about this to your parents.”
“I wouldn’t dare. They still don’t know we’ve had a death on board. Mum would go ballistic.”
“She would, poor Mary. On that topic, you need to give her a bit more latitude. You know she means well.”
“I have been a bit sharp with her. I don’t know why, except that the more she pushes me and Jason together, the more I want to rebel.”
“None of us likes to be told what to do by our parents, Sarah, but she’s on holiday in your domain. She’s struggling to maintain an element of control. When you’re home, it’s her territory, but here, well—”
“You are right, of course. I bet you don’t have these issues with your mum.”
“Not really, but I’m engaged so it’s different. Also Mum and Dad have David and Amy plus a whole congregation relying on them to keep them in one piece, whereas you’re all your parents have.”
“Now I feel terrible. Jason said the same thing last night, but I snapped at him.”
“Why?”
“I told him that someone who doesn’t even see his parents is in no position to lecture me on how to behave towards mine.”
“Ouch! I hope you retracted some of that.”
“Not really, but he doesn’t take offence. I love that about him; he just told me that my reaction showed he was right.”
Rachel laughed. “He really gets you, doesn’t he?”
Sarah smiled, gooey eyed.
“Anyway, speaking of loved ones, I need to go and FaceTime Carlos before we are too far away from land. I still have a signal.”
Chapter 14
After showering carefully to avoid too many splashes over the stitched wound, Rachel felt refreshed, although she could have done without the ache to her ribs and sharp pains in the right hip as the anaesthetic wore off. She looked in the mirror and had a conversation with herself about staying away from d
angerous situations, but she really couldn’t blame herself as she just hadn’t anticipated this one. There was no doubt in her mind that it had been a warning rather than an intention to do her more serious harm. Nevertheless, the attack demonstrated that the perpetrator was willing to go to extreme measures to prevent discovery.
It was high time she found out what was going on. One thing was now clear, though, and that was that Sosa had definitely been murdered, but by whom was still a puzzle. The list of suspects with motive had grown rather than reduced.
Rachel sat at the mirrored desk in her room and wrote notes about everyone she had so far spoken to, along with alibis and motives. Motive in a way was fairly straightforward – the dead man had been a nasty piece of work who’d used violence, threat and extortion to get his way and had more than one target. The most likely killer would be someone who either worked with him closely or had been threatened by him in some way. Brenda’s father and Sosa’s sister being on board the ship complicated matters. Although his sister was unlikely to have a motive at this stage, Rachel put a question mark over her name, and that of the brother-in-law.
While showering, she had cast her mind back to boarding day and was almost positive that the man she had witnessed Sosa arguing with when he’d alighted from the coach would turn out to be Brenda’s father, although it could also have been his own brother-in-law. Rachel would ask Jason to pull up their identity photos, then she would know for certain. An argument in itself proved nothing, but it did add at least one passenger to the suspect list.
A knock at the door interrupted Rachel’s ruminations. It couldn’t be Sarah as she was still in surgery. She walked sheepishly over to the door and used the spy hole to see who was there. Satisfied it was friend rather than foe, she opened the door.
“Chief, we can’t keep meeting like this,” she quipped.
“May I come in?”
“Yes of course, but I’m not sure I can add anything to what I’ve already told you.”
Waverley followed her inside and took a seat, glancing over at her notes still piled on the desk. She sat next to him.
“I see you’re still keeping up with the case in spite of, er hum, what happened.”
“I actually have a vested interest in finding out who killed your Mr Sosa now since someone clearly tried to warn me off. I don’t like being attacked.”
“Perhaps it’s a warning you should heed for once.” He smiled sullenly.
“Not a chance, and you wouldn’t ask me to if you had the pain in your ribs that I have, not to mention the stab wound. I don’t suppose CCTV told you who attacked me?”
“I’m afraid not, the person wore a hood and knew exactly where the cameras were, adding to the likelihood it was a crew member. As you’re not going to back down, we should compare notes. I’m back in charge of the case.”
“Really? That is good news, but how did that happen?”
“Brenda’s in the clear – well as much as she can be, anyway. The coroner called an hour ago; it appears it was not an allergen at all and the toxic substance was in the whisky, not in the bread.”
“Not an allergen? I thought Dr Bentley and the coroner were convinced it was anaphylaxis. Thank goodness for that, though – about Brenda, I mean.” Rachel was genuinely pleased to hear some good news at last.
“And that’s what it looked like. The coroner finally got round to doing a post-mortem this morning and found the man’s gut had almost exploded. Apparently it’s called caustic ingestion and has been confused with anaphylaxis in children who tend to drink harmful substances on occasion. It was the result of a detergent added to the whisky. The man had a liking for the stuff, and for some unknown reason didn’t detect a change in taste. It’s highly likely he himself thought it was an anaphylactic reaction from the bread he’d ingested at the same time, which is why he tried to reach for the epi-pens.”
“That is a new one on me, has Dr Bentley been told?”
“Not yet, I’ll tease him about it later. It’s not often I get one over on him. It is good news as far as I’m concerned, but it does mean that we’re back to square one – absolutely anyone could have spiked his drink. Needless to say, I’ve told the coroner what I think of his lackadaisical attitude.”
“Was the bottle tested?”
“Yes and it was clear, but there was a minute residue in the bottom of the glass. Thanks to Goodridge, the glass was tested. The killer obviously switched the whisky bottles after death, but didn’t have the opportunity to do the same with the empty glass. Goodridge told me you thought the pens had been removed and put back. I agree with your hypothesis and my theory is that the killer returned to the room to take the deadly whisky bottle and put the epi-pens back, and either forgot to switch the glass or was disturbed and had to leave.”
“So the killer could have been in the room when the galley maid found the body?”
“Precisely – unless it was her, of course – and then they made haste before they were discovered while the maid called for help.”
“Why do you think they removed the epinephrine if it wasn’t anaphylaxis?”
“I wondered that myself and asked the coroner if an epi-pen could have helped, and he said it had been shown to slow down the reaction, so this tells us the killer had done their homework.”
“Do you think it was one of the restaurant staff?”
“I do. It can’t have been Brenda’s father because he would have had no access to Sosa’s room. He wouldn’t even know where to look.”
“Unless, of course, someone told him.”
“You’re not suggesting Brenda, I hope. She didn’t even know her father was on board until Goodridge told her the other night – something she kept from me until I spoke to her after I’d seen you in the infirmary. I’ve also had words with Goodridge about the matter.”
Rachel wasn’t quite as certain as Waverley seemed to be about ruling out Brenda’s father so soon, but she decided not to burst his bubble. He had only just been reinstated as head of the investigation; it would be best not to poke the bear or he’d warn her off like he usually did.
“I’m not certain you should continue with your involvement, though, Rachel. It could get dangerous.”
“As I said, that’s not going to happen, chief. I either work with you or behind your back, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to do that, especially as I might come to harm.”
Waverley heaved a sigh, the resignation apparent on his face. “Alright, but be careful and keep me in the loop. We’re leaving it for appearances’ sake that it was a probable error from the catering side and that Brenda is still the person responsible for the mistake. We’ll let the restaurant staff continue believing that I’m off the case for now. It will keep the killer feeling secure, thinking they are safe, and that’s what I want them to believe.”
“Good plan and one that makes sense. So I’ll continue to liaise with Jason as if he’s in charge in case the killer is watching.”
“Precisely. When they are lulled into a false sense of security, they will slip up and we’ll be ready for them. I’m as keen as you are to find whoever is responsible as they tried to implicate my wife.”
“By chance rather than design, I think, chief. They wouldn’t have known Sosa was going to order room service, but they obviously knew he would take a drink before work.”
“Implying?”
“That the perpetrator knew his habits.”
“You’re right and that is building a stronger case for our murderer to be a member of the crew. It will be one of the restaurant staff, we just need to find out which one. Anyway, I’m pleased to see you’re looking better. Be careful and try to let someone know where you are at all times. I don’t want you disappearing on me.”
“Aye, aye, chief.”
Waverley let himself out with the bounce returned to his step. Rachel smiled after him, feeling guilt pangs that she hadn’t mentioned Sosa’s sister and brother-in-law or the argument she’d witnessed when leavin
g the bus on embarkation day. If Jason hadn’t told the chief about Sosa’s family, he probably had a reason not to, and she herself wanted to look at photo ID before letting anyone know about the argument.
She went back to the desk and looked at her notes, bearing in mind that the cause of death was now totally different to what they had imagined, and therefore the timeline had just lengthened from an opportunistic few minutes to around eight hours. It was likely that Sosa would have drunk whisky on the night before his trip to London, so the bottle had most likely been spiked during the time he was off the ship on embarkation day.
Another knock at the door had her wondering whether she was really on a cruise ship at all. This time it was Jason. He was as happy as Waverley had been.
“I heard about the attack, Rachel. I’m sorry, I bet Sarah’s going to give me a hard time over it later.”
“Of that I have no doubt, but it wasn’t your fault. It just means that we have been looking in the right place so far.”
“Have you heard the news?”
“Yes, you’ve not long missed Waverley. He came to tell me to stay off the case, but we agreed I would keep looking, especially as he doesn’t want anyone else to know the real cause of death has been discovered.”
“I thought it would be good to compare notes in private rather than in a public place, is that alright?”
“Of course, take a seat and I’ll get us some coffee.”
Once they were settled, Rachel placed Sosa’s notes and photos on to the table so that Jason could take a look through, and she handed him her own notes of the case so far. Rachel sipped coffee while Jason read through the pile she had marked as relevant.
“So he’s had a private detective following his wife and son, with pictures of their whereabouts and dates. What I don’t understand is why the sudden interest? These only date back four months and the letters stopped being delivered a few years ago.”
“I had the same thought, and then I looked through some more documents. Look.” She handed him a copy of the letter that had rekindled Sosa’s interest. “This letter came from his father’s solicitor. It appears that Mr Sosa Snr wasn’t that fond of our Stefan either. The majority of his estate has been left to his only grandson, with a small sum of 1,200 Cuban Pesos – the equivalent of around £1,000 – to Sosa and 6,500 Pesos – around £5,000 – to his sister. If anything happens to Michael (Mikey) Jones, then the estate would revert back as an equal split between Stefan Sosa and Stella Gonzalez. The letter is dated a month before Sosa hired a private investigator to find his wife and son.