by Dawn Brookes
“We have enough to go on, and for now we follow the chief’s instructions,” said Jason.
Rachel’s memory kicked in. “Is there any CCTV footage from embarkation day?”
“No, it’s wiped every twenty-four hours. There’s no coverage in the staff corridor as the company doesn’t like spying on its staff. That said, more cameras are being installed all the time, so there will come a day when very few areas are without it. The cameras aren’t live-monitored when they are in place. We just pull footage up when needed.”
“Do you think I can have a look at the IDs of Richard Jones and the Gonzalez couple?”
“Yes, of course.” Jason rose from the chair and walked over to Waverley’s desk, switching on the desktop computer. He signed himself in and tapped a few buttons, bringing up three photos on screen.
Rachel stood next to him and pointed. “That’s the man I saw arguing with Sosa on boarding day.” She and Jason gave a collective sigh.
The name below was that of Richard Jones.
Chapter 16
“I can’t believe you really want me to impersonate a counsellor, Sarah. It doesn’t feel right. What if these people are not murderers or accomplices in blackmail and they do need proper counselling?”
“You just say ‘go on’ and encourage them to speak, that’s what most counsellors seem to do,” said Bernard, who was sitting with them in Gwen’s office waiting for the Gonzalez couple to arrive.
Sarah nudged him. “That’s a low comment, Bernard, even for you.”
Bernard grinned and puffed his chest out as only he could. “It’s true, they don’t say a lot, just ask questions. You’re good at asking questions, Rachel.”
“I still don’t like it. Asking questions as a police officer is one thing, this is quite different. I know nothing about counselling.”
“You know even less about nursing so we can’t pretend you’re a nurse, can we?” Sarah interrupted. “Anyway, you’ve counselled me through some difficult times, and you are a vicar’s daughter.”
“Oh and that makes me a counsellor by default, does it? And friendship is different because you have done the same for me on multiple occasions.”
“You’re overthinking it, Rachel,” said Bernard. “Consider it undercover work.”
“I’m surprised Dr Bentley has agreed to this anyway. You could do it in your professional capacity as a nurse, either one of you.”
“I would be too soft and miss the signals,” said Sarah.
“And I would be too impatient; I don’t hold to all this navel-gazing baloney.”
“Bernard, you drive me to distraction at times,” Sarah scolded.
Rachel laughed. Bernard’s humour always won her over. “Alright, I’ll just say ‘go on’ and hope they do! Failing that, I’ll go into police mode and quiz them as suspects, then you’ll be sorry.”
“I’m pleased to see you’re all enjoying yourselves.” Gwen came into the office alongside Dr Bentley.
“It’s Bernard’s fault,” said Sarah, still giggling. “Don’t ever send him for counselling, whatever you do.”
Bernard rolled his eyes to the sky, looking innocently at his boss.
“Don’t you give me the innocent look, Bernard. I’ve been sorely tempted to do just that on numerous occasions so watch yourself, mate. Anyway, I’m pleased you’ve made them laugh. Rachel, are you ready?”
“I suppose so. Are you coming too, Gwen?”
“I’ll stay in with you initially. We’ve decided to use this room while Graham gives them the news, and then we’ll both depart and leave you to your, erm, counselling.”
“Are you sure you’re happy to do this, Rachel?” asked Dr Bentley.
“I’m glad someone cares what I think about this; I seem to have been bulldozed into it as a matter of fact. But you know me – I can’t keep my nose out of any investigation, so I’m resigned. It will be a good way of meeting the couple without stalking them.”
“In that case, let’s get it over with. I do wish Chief Waverley wouldn’t interfere with the running of the medical centre.”
Sarah squeezed Rachel’s hand and Bernard gave her a nod of encouragement, but couldn’t resist a word or two – “Go on” – to which the three of them laughed, leaving Gwen and Dr Bentley staring in bemusement.
“Right, you two children, get out of my office. We need it.”
Sarah and Bernard left and Gwen called in the couple, who’d arrived in the waiting room as the others were leaving.
“Do come in, Mr and Mrs Gonzalez.” They entered the office. Dr Bentley and Rachel stood. “Please, take a seat.”
The confused couple sat on the small sofa, while Gwen, the doctor and Rachel sat in the chairs.
“Before we start, can I get you coffee?” asked Gwen as Raggie entered with a tray of tea and coffee and placed it on the table. Paulo Gonzalez spoke first.
“A coffee would be appreciated, thank you. I must ask what this is all about.” His sharp eyes, hidden beneath designer spectacles, were already taking in the three people in front of him. He was tall and distinguished in appearance, and aged sixty. The latter fact, Rachel knew from his passenger information records.
“Quite,” said Dr Bentley while Gwen poured coffees all round.
Stella Gonzalez had her brother’s nose, Rachel thought, but there the likeness ended. She was beautiful: long brown hair, almost as long as Rachel’s own, and deep green eyes behind the longest lashes she had ever seen that weren’t false. The woman was slim but not thin and immaculately groomed and dressed. Her hand shook slightly when she picked up her coffee.
“I’m Dr Bentley, the senior medical officer on board the Coral Queen, this is our senior nurse, Sister Sumner, and this is Rachel Prince, our onboard counsellor.”
Four eyes shot towards Rachel. “And why would we need a counsellor, Dr Bentley?” Gonzalez asked, still holding Rachel’s gaze.
Dr Bentley ignored Gonzalez and addressed his wife. “Mrs Gonzalez, I understand you have a brother on board this ship, Stefan Sosa?”
“Really? Is Stefan on board? We haven’t spoken for a while, I didn’t know.”
A flicker of the eyelids and loss of eye contact told Rachel the woman was not telling the truth. She was now pleased to be here and sat back, observing closely.
“You didn’t know?”
“If that’s all this is about, doctor, I think we can leave now. We don’t want to meet Stefan, he has hurt his family in many ways. Come on, darling, let’s go.”
Before Paulo Gonzalez had the chance to move, Gwen interceded. “You should hear what Dr Bentley has to say before you go. Please.” She appealed to Stella who remained seated, causing her husband to re-join her.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news, Mrs Gonzalez. Your brother was found dead in his cabin on the evening we left Southampton.”
Stella almost spilt her coffee as her hand increased its shaking. “Found dead?”
“I’m sorry to say, yes. His body was returned to Southampton for a post-mortem later that night.”
“Drink, I suppose. He drank too much, that was his problem.”
“Paulo, don’t. He was still my brother.”
“Drink did have something to do with it, Mr Gonzalez, but not in the way you imply. Someone added something to his drink that resulted in a fatal reaction.”
Rachel watched both responses closely and couldn’t tell if they were good actors or they really didn’t know Stefan was aboard, or that he was dead. It seemed unlikely, and Gonzalez was reacting a little too calmly for her liking.
“You mean he was poisoned? I’m afraid, doctor, he did have a knack of upsetting people so it doesn’t come as a big surprise. That sort of thing happens in Cuba all the time, but I didn’t expect it to occur on a cruise ship.”
“Why would anyone want to poison him?” asked Stella, ignoring her husband and pushing his hand away.
“We’re not sure yet. Our security team is investigating and I expect one of the team will be wanting to spe
ak with you later today or tomorrow. I really am sorry to be the bearer of bad news. This must come as a big shock.”
“Do you know anyone who might have intended to harm your brother?”
Gonzalez swung his head back in Rachel’s direction. “Of course not! We’ve already told you, we didn’t keep in touch.”
Stella gripped his arm, quietening him, and spoke softly. “We lost touch around sixteen months ago. Stefan came to visit us in Cuba. He drank too much and became uncontrollable – he had always drunk, but not like he did then. One night, the liquor caused his tongue to become too loose and he insulted me and my parents. Paulo told him to be quiet, but he wouldn’t stop. He ranted and raved at us all. My mother was dying, but he didn’t seem to care. My father got up to hit him, but he was a frail old man. Stefan pushed him and he fell.
“Paulo could not take any more. He intervened, punched Stefan and threw him out of the house, telling him never to return. Stefan called me the next day to apologise, but I was still angry with him. He told me to tell our mother he was sorry. I told him to go to hell.” Tears now ran down Stella’s cheeks, causing her mascara to run.
“So you see, we had no reason to see the man again. We were not friends.” Paulo’s anger spilled over to compensate for his wife’s tears.
“And did you ever see him again?” Rachel asked gently.
“A week later my mother died. I sent him a letter to inform him, but told him it would be better if he stayed away from the funeral because our father would not want him there. He was back on board your ship by then anyway.”
Paulo stared angrily at his wife. “You never told me you contacted him. I bet you didn’t tell your father either.”
Stella hid her eyes in a handkerchief her husband had supplied before looking at him. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you would be angry, like you are now. I told Father a few weeks after the funeral. I told him Stefan was their only son and he deserved to know. He nodded and we never spoke of it again.”
Rachel almost felt pity for the wayward Stefan, being ordered to stay away from his own mother’s funeral, but if he’d really wanted to be there, surely he would have made the effort to be reconciled with the family he had hurt so much.
“Did he reply to your letter?” she asked.
“No, I didn’t hear from him again. I wrote to him six months ago to let him know that Father had died, but he didn’t reply to that letter either.”
“You knew he was on this ship, didn’t you?” Her husband’s voice became accusing.
“So what if I did? I wanted to tell him in person about the pain he’d caused our father, and that Father had chosen to write both of us out of his will as a result.”
Dr Bentley and Gwen exited without the couple noticing while Rachel poured another round of coffee. She let the quiet hang for a few minutes before breaking it.
“Go on,” she said, forcing herself not to smile.
“I’m sorry, Paulo. I knew you would refuse if I told you. I needed to see my brother and tell him how much he’d cost us, and now your business is failing I don’t know what we’re going to do. I wanted to ask him to speak to his son and see if Mikey would be generous to us.” Stella turned to Rachel. “I’m not in the habit of begging, but things are difficult in Cuba. Without money, we are nothing.”
“How did you know about the business?”
“I’m not stupid, Paulo. You were becoming distant, snappy. At first I thought it was another woman, then I sneaked a look in your office and found the rejected loan applications.”
Paulo softened, pulling his wife into his arms and allowing her to cry on his shoulder. He looked at Rachel.
“Things have been difficult, but what this silly woman doesn’t know,” he stroked his wife’s hair, “is that I have a buyer for the business – an investor who is happy to keep me on – and we will have enough money from the sale to be quite comfortable for as long as we live. I should have told you, Stella, but I thought you would prefer not to know.”
Stella had ceased crying and lifted her head up. “I’m not one of those stupid Cuban women who doesn’t have a clue what’s going on. I’m my mother’s daughter,” she said proudly. “So this whole trip has been a waste of time.”
“In terms of begging that wretched brother of yours for money, yes, but we still have Christmas to look forward to.” Turning to Rachel again, Gonzalez continued, “Stefan would never have agreed anyway, he was only interested in himself. I’m not even sure he knew where his son lived, let alone stood a chance of asking the young man for money. Any money he could have squeezed out of the boy would have been spent on Stefan Sosa, no-one else. My wife has always believed her brother was redeemable, but he wasn’t. I won’t speak ill of the dead any further, but the man was rotten right through with no good qualities to save him.”
Stella nodded. “I’ve been silly, but I am sorry my brother is dead. Whether or not he was a bad man, he was the only brother I had.”
“I’m afraid your brother had discovered where his son was.” Rachel didn’t fill Stella in on the marriage violence, but told her, “He hired a private investigator who traced his ex-wife to London. He also had the address of the university where your nephew is studying in his belongings. I don’t think any contact would have been encouraged from either party, though.”
“Does Christine know about my brother’s death?”
“Yes, as does his son, Michael.”
“Oh please, Paulo. Can we spend a few days in England after the cruise? I’d love to see Christine and Mikey – we got on so well, and then they stopped communicating when she left him.”
Rachel felt it best that the reason for the marriage breakup come from Christine Jones, not from her.
“Have you tried to contact your brother since you’ve been on board?”
“I’ve asked a few of the waiters in the buffet when Paulo hasn’t been there, but none of them seemed to know him.”
Rachel thought that was odd, but said nothing.
“I will agree to stay in London for five days after the cruise, and then we must fly home. I have to get back to the business and sign papers to seal the deal. Now I think we have taken up enough of this young woman’s time. Shall we go?”
“Who will arrange the funeral?” Stella looked at Rachel again.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know,” answered Rachel, thinking it would be unlikely that Michael or Christine would want to foot the bill for their estranged father/husband’s final farewell. “I expect it might be covered by insurance. I’ll ask Dr Bentley for you.”
Paulo helped his wife to her feet and led her out of the office. Rachel hoped neither of them was involved in the demise of Stefan Sosa. It appeared they had suffered enough at his hands already. At least Stella had.
Chapter 17
Rachel joined Sarah and her parents for dinner in the Club Restaurant. The restaurant was brightly lit with Christmas decorations and busy, but not full so it gave her the opportunity to observe the waiters in a new light, knowing some of the secrets they were hiding.
She saw Mishka for what he was: a sneaky drug dealer who resented Stefan Sosa for blackmailing him over the issue. If it had been hard drugs, he would be at the top of her list because of the sums of money involved, but a small cannabis smuggling operation, though unwelcome on board a cruise ship, was not big enough to make him a drug baron, or anything like it.
She also noticed for the first time how Mishka shunned Danielle and snapped at her when out of earshot of diners. Obviously he believed Danielle had told Sosa his secret and had it in for her. Pash continued his avoidance technique whenever he was near their table. He charmed the Bradshaws with his bright white smile, but blanked Rachel – not that she minded. Her only interest in him was as a suspect; she had no wish to be his friend, but it did make it more difficult to find out anything from him. She had an idea who would be good at pumping him for information and would discuss it with Sarah and Jason once the Bradshaws busied themselv
es with other activities.
“Rachel, you’re doing it again!” Mary chided while staring in her direction.
“What? Oh sorry, I was miles away.” Rachel smiled meekly.
“That young man of yours has a lot to answer for, going away and leaving you at this time of year. I shall be having words when I next see him. It’s not right, I can see how disappointed you are. When will you men learn?”
Mary’s stern look was now directed at the gentle Gilbert Bradshaw, who sensibly continued eating. Rachel felt confused for a moment before realising that Mary had wrongly assumed she was still missing Carlos. The thought brought her up with a start.
Why am I not missing him?
Thankfully she had to park the question. Mary Bradshaw was in full flow on the topic of young love, but Sarah and Jason were now the ones high on her radar. Sarah reddened under the pressure and chewed her bottom lip, a habit she had when under stress and one that Rachel had always picked up on at university when they shared accommodation. At least Sarah was holding her tongue and not antagonising her mother.
“What are you doing after dinner this evening?” Rachel felt it was time to divert the conversation and her friend shot her a grateful glance.
Gilbert Bradshaw answered, “Mary had a visit to the hairdresser’s this afternoon so I’m taking her to the indoor cinema. She always likes a treat after she’s had her hair done, although why on earth she decides to waste an afternoon of our holiday in such a way when her hair looks perfectly respectable, I don’t know.”
“You know I have my hair done once a week come what may, Gilbert.”
Sarah and Rachel laughed as it was a cause of some consternation in the Bradshaw home when a bank holiday dared to fall on a hairdressing day. Bank holidays were the only times when Mary deferred or brought forward her hairdressing appointments.
“Mum, you are funny. I hope you know you probably paid four times as much as having it done at home.”
Mary blushed, and now it was she who changed the subject. “Your father had some gaming lessons in the casino and that’s far worse than having a weekly hairdressing treat, if you ask me.”
