by Dawn Brookes
“When was he last seen?”
“He finished up in the Club Restaurant yesterday evening and went to the crew café afterwards and hasn’t been seen since. His roommate Bruno Marks, erm, bunked down with a member of steward staff overnight while her roommate worked the nightshift.” Waverley’s face reddened. “These things do go on; they are consenting adults, after all. His story has been confirmed by the room steward, Arlene Fernandez.”
Rachel smiled at Waverley’s discomfort and Sarah scolded him. “Chief, what century did you come out of? We’re not embarrassed.”
Waverley coughed. “Quite. Anyway, Bakshi’s bed hasn’t been slept in so we suspect he didn’t go back to his room. Bruno Marks says nothing is missing as far as he can see. He confirms that Pash does stay out overnight sometimes as he has a girlfriend on board. Of course we know who that is now. It’s a pity her husband doesn’t because everyone else seems to, poor man.”
“Have you asked the girlfriend?” Rachel prompted before Waverley went into a tirade about marital infidelity. She knew that his first wife had left him for his best friend and it had taken him a long time to get over it and marry Brenda.
“Goodridge managed to discretely speak to her this morning. She says she hasn’t seen him in that way since the ship sailed. Was most put out about it, according to Goodridge. I’d like to—”
“So where could he have got to?” Rachel steered him again.
“We don’t know. Ravanos and Goodridge are going through CCTV footage of the ship’s perimeter from the time he was last seen until now, just in case he was drunk and fell overboard, or killed himself.”
“I see. How long is that likely to take?”
“It could take all day, depends if there’s anything to find. I hate tying my officers up like this; it’s a laborious task unless they get lucky.”
Waverley’s radio sprang into life with loud crackles. He pressed a button.
“You’d better come down, sir.” Jason’s voice was just about recognisable through the radio intercom.
“I need to go.”
“I’m coming with you,” said Rachel.
“What about your outing?” called Sarah.
“Please call your parents and apologise, tell them my hip’s sore after the trip yesterday. Sorry, speak later.”
Sarah nodded. “Okay I’ll tell them you’ll take a walk locally after you’ve rested.”
“If that’s settled, let’s go.”
Waverley marched off at pace with Rachel following swiftly behind.
Although Rachel had been into Waverley’s office many times, she had not been in the security office where the CCTV footage was recorded and from where the rest of the security team carried out their work behind the scenes. It reminded her of a CID room with monitors, computers and notice boards where crimes were listed. She couldn’t resist glancing at the operations board and noticed that murder wasn’t the only crime being investigated by the security team.
There was a contraband liquor investigation, a poisonous spider smuggled aboard by a crew member and an assault on a passenger by another passenger in the launderette. The offending passenger was down to be escorted off-ship today; his family members were staying on board and he would have to make his own way home. Two crew members had gone AWOL in Southampton and details had been handed to the British immigration department, and there were photos of people wanted by Interpol to the right-hand side.
Waverley tapped her on the shoulder. “As you can see, we don’t twiddle our thumbs all day, Rachel. This is a big ship and opportunists try to take advantage.”
“I did realise you dealt with crimes, but didn’t know just how many,” she said.
“Why would you? We pride ourselves on keeping the ship secure and solving crime as quickly as possible. As well as solving crimes, we do our best to be a presence that prevents them. Some petty stuff like passengers hiding an extra bottle of alcohol in their luggage, we ignore, but we take safety of passengers and crew very seriously, which is why we will be dealing with Mishka Prostakov as soon as this murder is solved. Right, let’s see what we have.”
Rachel followed the chief of security to where Jason was waiting for them.
“This footage was recorded at 2am, sir.” Jason pressed play and they watched the edge of the ship under infrared lighting. The screen was labelled ‘crew pool’, and as the camera rolled a fuzzy figure came into view.
“Unfortunately we only scour the perimeter to see if anyone has gone overboard; the actual crew pool is not monitored. Crew need their privacy,” Waverley explained.
The footage played on and the man in the picture could be seen going overboard.
“Can you tell if it’s Pash?” Rachel asked.
“Rewind and zoom in, Goodridge.”
Jason did as was requested. Although the image wasn’t clear, she recognised the shocked face of the man falling as Pash.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked.
“Yes, he went over backwards, so it appears from this angle he was pushed – hard. Try a 360 degree turn.”
Jason did so and another person could be seen, pushing the unfortunate Pash overboard.
“Get in closer.”
“We can’t, sir. The 360 doesn’t zoom and the other cameras on that perimeter wouldn’t pick it up.”
“Blast! Now we have two murders. Have you informed the coastguard and given coordinates?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Does he have any chance?” Rachel knew the answer, but wanted to ask anyway.
“Not an iota. With cold Atlantic currents reducing the night-time temperatures and the added fact he would have hit the water at speed, he would either have died on impact or within minutes. Heart attack, most likely.”
Rachel looked at the screen again and noticed the blackness of the water; it made her shudder. As much as she hadn’t liked Pash, no-one deserved to die like that. Her legs turned to jelly and she wondered if she might faint.
“Are you alright, Rachel?” asked Jason.
“Just felt a bit weak for a moment. Do you mind if I sit?” Jason helped her to a chair and brought her a glass of water. “Sorry, I’m not often squeamish, but the thought of someone going into the water like that—”
“Are you having flashbacks to your first cruise?” asked Waverley. She nodded and neither of them said anything else on the subject.
“We need to find out who’s doing this and why. I’m at a loss,” she said.
Ravanos excused himself to go back to work and Waverley and Jason pulled up chairs. The atmosphere was glum. It was one thing knowing people went overboard, but another watching it a few hours later on CCTV. Rachel realised that this would not have been the first time the security staff had watched such footage, and a new admiration for them and their work settled itself within her mind.
“Looks like we’re back to the galley maid if it wasn’t Pash, unless you can shed any light on the Gonzalez couple?”
“I had dinner with them last night, as per your instructions, and either I’m becoming gullible or they are innocent. I don’t see them being up for it, nor having time to get to Sosa’s room and spike his drink. They do have motive, in that Sosa had caused the family much pain, but their intention as far as their nephew is concerned seems restorative rather than malicious.”
Waverley coughed. “I’ve managed to smooth things over with Brenda and Richard and I don’t think we need to be concerned on that front. Now I have the dilemma of whether to let them know about Mikey’s aunt and uncle being on board. At least I will have, once these murders have been solved.”
Rachel nodded, wondering whether the Gonzalezes would be at all welcome as far as the Jones family was concerned, but that was something she didn’t need to burden herself with.
“So who’s left? We have your chief suspect, Claudia Kitova—”
“Who had motive and opportunity,” reinforced Waverley.
“Agreed. Then there’s Mishka Pro
stakov, who also had motive and opportunity. Perhaps you should delve deeper into his drug dealing and check whether he is involved with more than cannabis?”
“Thank you for the suggestion, Rachel. We would never have thought of that.”
Ignoring the sarcasm, Rachel continued, “Sacha Voronin had opportunity, but as far as we are aware, no motive, and finally Danielle Barcellos, who also had motive and opportunity. But her motive is not enough to commit murder and she appears to have been able to manage Sosa’s demands and manipulate him in her own way. I don’t think she really believed he wanted contact with his daughter any more than he wanted amicable contact with his son, whom he had abused.”
“So, of those four, we can exclude Voronin, although I suggest you look into him, Goodridge, and check we haven’t missed anything. The strongest motive lies with Prostakov and Kitova. My money’s on Kitova because we can pin her down to the exact crime scene and she was the one who felt she had the most to lose for pocketing a passenger’s brooch. I’ve done some digging and the woman is a widow with three young children who live with the grandmother in Romania. They are poor, on the breadline in fact, and she sends all her wages home every month to feed and school them.”
“And yet she was going to confess and hand the brooch back in? Poverty doesn’t make her a killer.”
“No, poverty doesn’t, but there are two things you’re missing, Rachel. Firstly, we only have her word that she wanted to hand the brooch back, and even if that was true, desperation could have forced her into murder. And that woman is desperate to keep her job.”
“What would have happened if she had handed in the brooch?”
“It’s difficult to say. That would have been up to her manager and it would depend on her work record and previous strikes. I suspect she would have got a severe reprimand and a warning, but it would be a harsh person to sack her for yielding to temptation in her situation and then finding a conscience.”
“That makes it all the more cruel that the wretched Sosa blackmailed the woman and lied to her.” Jason gritted his teeth, his jaw set with indignation. The more she got to know him, the more Rachel liked Jason. He was a kindred spirit, one who searched for justice and hated bullies.
“Then I sincerely hope it wasn’t her,” she said as she left the two men to their work.
Chapter 21
Rachel decided to leave the ship and take a walk outside to get some fresh air. It was another lovely day with a clear blue sky and bright sunshine. How different to how it must be in England at this time of year.
Santa Cruz de la Palma was the first Canary Island stop, on the island of La Palma. Normally, Rachel would have been excited and keen to explore, but a man had just died and she was struggling to erase the image of the shocked face of Pashmarli as he went overboard. That, coupled with the guilt at not having liked the man, left her feeling morose – a mood that she was not altogether familiar with.
Carlos would be with her tomorrow or Christmas Eve, and the flutter of excitement that filled her stomach temporarily took her mind away from this latest murder. As she braced herself against a brisk but not unpleasant wind, in spite of rising temperatures, she pulled on a light jumper.
She walked steadily, but was still aware of the pulling of stitches to her right hip and pain from the bruising and the kick to the ribs. Her hands were healed now, which was a relief. Arriving at a bench facing out to sea, she stopped to rest and enjoy the wind blowing across her hair.
She had been almost convinced that Pash had murdered Sosa and would now be taking over his nasty work. Her bias against a man who had shunned her sat uncomfortably. Perhaps she had been too tired to see clearly. A bit of self-reflection might do her good at this moment, because her radar had been well off due to a petty dislike.
Now that they had to find out who’d killed Sosa and Pash, she wondered if there might be two killers. Could Pash have killed Sosa, and then someone else killed Pash? And why? For similar or altogether different reasons? She was beginning to think they might not get to the bottom of the investigation and the killer or killers might jump-ship. Not likely, though, if they thought they’d got away with it.
“Think, Prince, think!”
The wind was getting up so she decided to walk towards the town. The cobbled streets didn’t make it easy for her hip, so she changed her mind and walked along the marina instead. The houses visible on the surrounding hills were bright and colourful from where she walked, a stark contrast to the mood she had been in not long before, but the walk was helping.
A short way along, she heard a sound coming from behind the end of a building. It sounded like someone was crying. She continued to walk the few paces past the obstruction of the building and recognised Danielle with her elbows leaning on a rail, her head buried in her hands.
Rachel walked over. “Are you alright?”
The young woman jumped. “Sorry, I didn’t realise anyone was out here.” Tears fell down her face and her eyes were puffy. She gathered herself together and wiped her eyes with a tissue before blowing her nose.
“I was just getting some fresh air, but decided not to go into town. I love the smell of salt blowing in from the sea when it’s a windy day.”
“I like fresh air too. When I go home, I walk for miles. It can be a long time cooped up on a ship.”
“Yes, my friend Sarah says the same. She’s always pleased to get home, but she keeps coming back to cruising so there must be something.”
“There is. We make a lot of friends working on a cruise liner, they become like family. But it’s been more difficult lately.”
“Are you homesick?”
“A little. I have a daughter – I miss her so much, but she gets a good life and I earn more money here than I could back home.”
“What’s your daughter’s name?”
“Rosa, she’s seven.”
“Does her father live at home?” Rachel knew this might scare her off, but she wanted Danielle to believe she wasn’t aware of her past or the blackmail.
“No, he’s dead. You’re the friend of Nurse Sarah, aren’t you? I’ve seen you with her and her parents in the Club Restaurant. I realise who you were talking about now.”
“Yes, and you’re the wine waitress. It’s good to meet you properly. My name’s Rachel.”
“Danielle, although my friends call me Dani.”
“Do you have a preference?”
“Dani, it makes me feel more at home. I’m sorry for crying, it’s just that I have a lot on my mind at the moment.”
“I’m a good listener if you want to talk.”
“But you’re a passenger.”
“Think of me as a friend. We are all just people, aren’t we? And you’re off-duty, I see.”
“Okay, it would be nice to talk to someone.”
“Shall we get a coffee? There’s a café up ahead.”
Danielle agreed and they walked in silence towards the café on the quiet marina. Rachel ordered coffee.
“My treat, have whatever you want.”
“Thank you, that’s kind. I’ll have black coffee, please.”
Once the coffees had been brought to them, Rachel encouraged her.
“Right, Dani, please tell me what’s on your mind, if you want to.”
Dani took a sip of coffee and looked at Rachel, appraising her. “I’ve been so unhappy for a few years, and just when I think things are better, they have got worse again.”
“How?”
“My daughter’s father is – was a bad man. He caused me and a lot of other people a lot of harm. He worked on board the ship. I think I remember you saying you met him on the coach coming down from London.”
“Oh, you mean the maître d who died from an allergic reaction?”
“Yes, him. Don’t judge me, Rachel, but I was relieved when he died. I don’t know what I ever saw in him. When I first came on board the ship, I was lonely and didn’t know anyone. There were lots of cliques. Stefan was friendly, told me h
e was lonely too, that he was a long way from home and that he didn’t have any friends. He said he would take care of me.
“One night, I had too much to drink. He encouraged it, but I just wasn’t used to it. I found myself in his bed the next morning and thought, what the heck? After that we were together, but he became nasty, threatening. One day he hit me when I was seven months pregnant. That was it – I ended it.”
“Did he try to get you back?”
“Yes, he tried nice, then he tried nasty, but I told him that if he came near me again in that way, I would report him. That seemed to do the trick because his boss didn’t like him. I was safe for a while, but I was frightened for my baby. I told him she wasn’t his and said I had slept with other men on board as well as him. He was angry, but believed it. But I decided to leave my daughter with my parents where she would be safe.
“I was always terrified that one day he would kidnap her, even though I told him she wasn’t his. Deep down I think he knew she was and often threatened he would find her. It frightened me what he might do, but I don’t believe he cared about her, or me. He wanted to have a hold over me so that I—”
Danielle stopped.
“So that you, what?”
“That doesn’t really matter, but I have been happy for a few days, and now I’m back to the beginning.”
“In what way?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t say any more. I need to go back to ship and get ready for work. Please don’t mention this if you see me in the restaurant.”
“Of course not, but—”
“Sorry, thanks for listening.” Danielle hurried away before Rachel could say anything else.
Rachel remained at the café and pondered the conversation for a while. She already knew the details about Stefan and how he had blackmailed Danielle and understood why she’d held that part of the story back, but what had spooked her now? Perhaps she was just homesick and missing her daughter.
Stefan would certainly not have made a good father as his treatment of Michael had demonstrated, so Danielle had done the right thing keeping her daughter away from him. Rachel wondered again whether to tell Danielle about Stella Gonzalez, but it wasn’t her place to do so. The only explanation was that Danielle had become involved with another poor choice of boyfriend, or that someone had taken the place of Sosa on the blackmailing front.
