by Dawn Brookes
Rachel made her way back to the ship to meet Bernard and Sarah for a late lunch.
The Bradshaws were back following a morning tour and they all met up in the Club Restaurant. Rachel was pleased when Brigitte, who had also been off ship, joined them. Bernard was on his best behaviour in front of Sarah’s parents, in spite of Brigitte having the occasional dig trying to provoke a response. The three nurse friends laughed happily as they bantered, and Rachel joined in a few times.
Mary and Gilbert Bradshaw seemed happy to meet Sarah’s friends and quizzed them about life on board a cruise ship.
“I’m sure Sarah doesn’t tell us the worst, she paints a picture of being on permanent holiday,” said Mary.
“I don’t!”
“Well I can assure you it isn’t,” said Brigitte. “We work hard; even when we’re off, we’re on duty. We can get called to emergencies at all hours. Sometimes people—”
A kick under the table from Sarah prevented her revealing anything else.
“It can be busy, but we love the work. Mostly small things, nothing to worry about,” said Bernard. “Brigitte’s just miffed because I had to call her back to surgery last night to help me with a young child who wouldn’t stop crying.”
“Hm, I’m not surprised he cried, looking at you,” retorted Brigitte.
“She was on a daaaate, that’s why she’s cross.” Bernard sat back triumphantly, having got the last word with Brigitte – a rarity.
“See, Mum, Dad, this is what I have to put up with.”
Even Mary Bradshaw laughed, although Rachel suspected a further interrogation would be in store for Sarah later.
“Where’s that pleasant fellow gone? Pash, was it?” Gilbert Bradshaw asked.
A quick exchange of glances followed before Sarah answered, “He’s gone down with something.”
Rachel shot Bernard a warning look before he made some joke about Pash going overboard. He managed to control his mischievous grin, but couldn’t resist adding, “Cold, I think.”
“Oh well, the new man seems pleasant too. In fact, the service on board this ship is wonderful. We are really enjoying ourselves. I’m hooked.”
“Well don’t get too settled,” warned Mary.
“Aren’t you enjoying it, Mum?”
“Your mother is having a great time, but the motion has made her feel a bit unsteady at times. I think if we do another one, it will be a fly cruise, somewhere hot from the outset.”
“Never mind me, Sarah. I am enjoying myself and there’s so much to do. We loved Lisbon, and today’s terra firma did me good. The sea days are nice, but I prefer solid ground beneath my feet.”
“Well you’ve got another two days of terra firma ahead, so don’t worry. Then you’ll be looking forward to resting up again for the sail home. Are you going off ship again before we sail?”
“No, we might have an afternoon nap while the ship isn’t moving.”
“It’s going to be a wonderful Christmas, darling.” Gilbert Bradshaw took his wife’s hand. “And Sarah and Jason have tomorrow off.”
“Rachel has some news,” said Sarah.
“Oh?” Mary and Gilbert both looked at Rachel.
“Carlos is expecting to finish his case and will be joining the ship tomorrow or the day after.”
“Now that is good news. You’ve been a bit out of sorts for the past few days, and that fall didn’t help. You’re still limping.” Mary gave Rachel a sympathetic smile.
“Yes, it has been a bit sore and I will be pleased to see Carlos.”
“Where’s he staying? I thought the ship was fully booked.”
“Don’t worry, Mum. He’s bunking in with Jason. Special permission from the captain.”
Brigitte raised an eyebrow. She didn’t comprehend Rachel and Sarah’s views on celibacy before marriage and often chided Sarah about it. “You guys would have been better living in Victorian England. I don’t know how your men put up with it.”
“You mean without it,” Bernard joked.
“Now, now, let’s not lower the tone,” said Mary, but even she couldn’t resist a smile towards Bernard whose humour had got through to her.
Sarah changed the subject. “I’m off until evening surgery and the crew are rehearsing for their Christmas show soon. Would you like to come?”
“No, thank you. We want to see it live, and I really do want a nap. I haven’t been sleeping very well,” answered Mary.
“What about you, Rachel?”
“I’d love to, what time and where?”
“Four o’clock in the theatre.”
The party finished their coffees and dispersed. Rachel had something else on her mind; something was bothering her about the will and she wanted to work out what it was before she joined Sarah in the theatre.
Chapter 22
The Coral Theatre was packed with crew by the time Rachel arrived. The atmosphere was charged with tension. The crew occasionally got to perform for passengers, and as it was Christmas, they were even more determined to make it the best show ever. Sarah waved, beckoning her down to the front. Bernard was sitting next to her as they were not taking part in the entertainment, but were on first aid duty.
“This is just the rehearsal and you would think they were getting ready for an Oscar-winning performance. A lot of fuss if you ask me.” Bernard grinned.
Sarah nudged him. “Shush, Bernard, someone will hear. Please don’t upset them, they are working so hard to get it right.”
Rachel relaxed in a seat the other side of Sarah and took in the scene, marvelling at the ornately decorated gold-coloured Christmas tree standing in the back corner of the stage. The ship was becoming more Christmassy as each day passed.
“Who’s in charge?”
“Carla, the cruise director, but the real boss is Graham,” Sarah answered.
“Graham as in Dr Bentley?”
“Oh yes, he fancies himself as a theatre producer, setting himself up for retirement. Does this every year, and I have to say, the show is always the highlight of a Christmas cruise.” Bernard grinned again.
“Be quiet down there,” Graham called.
“He takes his role very seriously,” whispered Sarah.
“I take it this is the Babushka rehearsal?” Rachel whispered back.
“Yep, then on the night there will be an acapella choir followed by well-known Christmas carols, and the passengers can join in with the singing if they want to.”
“That should be fun. Does any of the crew abstain or object to the theme?”
“No, they love it, so unless they’re working, in which case they do miss out, the majority are keen to be involved. The only arguing is about who plays who, but Carla and Graham have dealt with the divas.”
Rachel sat back and enjoyed watching the crew act out the beautiful Russian folk story. The nativity play was one she had occasionally seen performed in her father’s church as it served as a fun alternative to the traditional one, but this was the musical version of Babushka that could only be performed under licence.
The part of Babushka was being played by Brigitte, much to the amusement of Bernard, who roared with laughter at his friend and colleague playing an old woman who wouldn’t believe that Jesus had been born.
“Grumpy, argumentative old woman suits her,” he said mischievously.
The performance went to plan, apart from a few mishaps where people forgot their lines and some lighting issues. During the break, Rachel observed Mishka whispering something to Danielle. They were taking part in the play with minor roles, but Danielle seemed upset again and Mishka patted her on the shoulder before he was called away. Rachel suddenly worked out what it was she had been concerned about and it filled her with dread.
Jason joined them. “How’s it going?”
“They’re almost done. Graham’s going to make them do it again to iron out a few problems. Rachel told us about Pash earlier.”
Jason nodded, but didn’t say anything else as there were too many peo
ple around. When the rehearsal started again, Rachel nudged Jason and whispered in his ear. He nodded again before getting up and leaving, much to the dismay of Sarah.
“What was that all about?”
“Just a hunch, he’ll be back soon,” Rachel reassured her friend.
Dr Bentley appeared pleased with the repeat performance and congratulated the crew on their dedication. He told them that final rehearsal would take place on Christmas Eve a couple of hours before the live performance, and then they could all relax.
Waverley arrived just as people were dispersing. Once the area was clear, he nodded at Rachel grimly.
“Goodridge has a copy of the will. It seems you were right. It’s time to speak with Ms Barcellos. I’ve asked him to check the crime scene before we speak to her.”
“What’s going on, you two?” asked a disgruntled Sarah. Bernard stayed put, clearly wanting to be in the picture too.
Waverley coughed. “Rachel will tell you later. Now shall we go somewhere a little more private?”
Rachel gave Sarah an apologetic look and followed the chief down to his office. Once they were ensconced inside, he poured her a coffee from his percolator. A few minutes later, Jason arrived with Danielle.
“Please take a seat, Ms Barcellos,” instructed Jason while he moved away to show something to Waverley that Rachel couldn’t see. Waverley nodded, and then took a seat in one of the armchairs. Danielle stared at Rachel with fear-filled eyes.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Ms Barcellos, is it true that Stefan Sosa was blackmailing you into stealing for him from the wine and drinks cellar?”
Danielle stared down at her hands and answered in the affirmative. “Is that what this is about? I told Bernard and gave him permission to report me, so I take it he has. I’m pleased to have it out in the open. Do what you will.”
Ignoring her last remark, Waverley continued, “Did you then decide to get rid of your tormentor by spiking one of the bottles of whisky that you supplied while he was ashore on the day the ship was docked in Southampton?”
Danielle gasped. “No, how could you think such a thing? I didn’t like him, I admit that, but I had no reason to kill him. I was able to manage him in my own way. I thought his death was an accident.”
“You know full well that your ex-lover was murdered.”
Rachel didn’t like the way this interview was going, but kept quiet. Danielle’s face reddened at the reference to her past and she looked at Rachel briefly.
“Stefan was not only blackmailing me. If it was murder, others had bigger reasons to get rid of him. Pash, Mishka and—”
“I will come on to Pashmarli Bakshi shortly, but for now I want an explanation for the first killing.”
Danielle’s head shot up. “What are you talking about, the first killing?”
“Don’t play games with me, Ms Barcellos. Here, take a look at this, and then try and deny that you knew about it.”
Waverley handed over a copy of the will that Rachel had asked Jason to retrieve from Stella Gonzalez. Danielle’s hands shook as she read through the contents.
“So it is true?”
“You did know then?” Waverley pressed.
Danielle tightened her lips, frightened to say anything that might incriminate her any further, and shook her head with disbelief.
“Pash told you?”
“Told me what, Ms Barcellos?”
Danielle grabbed Rachel’s hand. “I didn’t do it. Pash told me about this will last night; he threatened that if I didn’t share the money with him, he would tell security that I killed Stefan. He had seen me take a new bottle of whisky into Stefan’s room on the day we left port. I swear I didn’t put anything in the whisky, but Pash said someone killed Stefan and that everyone would believe it was me. Up until last night, I’d thought the death was from allergic reaction. People were saying nuts were in the bread that had been delivered to his room on the day we left Southampton. I was frightened, although I thought Pash was lying, but just in case, I agreed that if the will existed, I would give him money, even though I didn’t kill Stefan.”
Rachel asked, “Did Pash tell you how he knew about the will?”
“No, I wasn’t even sure it existed.”
Waverley cut in, “But you weren’t satisfied with half the money for your daughter, were you? After arguing with him in the Club Restaurant last night – yes, you were seen – you followed Pash around for the evening, and in the early hours of this morning you threw him overboard.”
Danielle’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, threw him overboard? Is Pash dead?”
“Oh do come on, Ms Barcellos, don’t play us for fools. You know full well he is dead, and not only that, you were the one who killed him. Officer Goodridge here found this in a sill where he went overboard.”
Waverley threw a badge down on to the table, a look of smug satisfaction plastered on his face. Rachel picked it up: it was Danielle’s name badge. Turning it around, she showed it to Danielle.
“I lost it last night. I took it off after the row with Pash to wipe a stain from my jacket. I must have put it on the drainer in the waiter-only area; I was upset and left in a hurry. Anyone could have picked it up. Please, I didn’t do this.”
“Very convincing story, Ms Barcellos. I give it to you that you tell a good yarn, but I’m not taken in for one moment. You are under arrest for the murders of Stefan Sosa and Pashmarli Bakshi. You will be taken to the brig and locked up to be returned to the authorities in Southampton on our return. Do you understand?”
Quiet sobbing was the only sound coming from Danielle. Her shoulders shook before she lifted her head and pleaded with Rachel.
“Please, I know how this looks, but I don’t know who killed them. It wasn’t me. I’m being framed. I have a daughter, I cannot go to prison for something I didn’t do.”
“Goodridge, take this woman away,” ordered Waverley.
As soon as they left, Waverley laughed. “Thank goodness that’s all over. Well done, Rachel, it was a good thing we checked the will and found the clause that the inheritance was to be shared with any surviving grandchildren. It’s always about money, isn’t it?”
Rachel sat quietly, weighing up all she’d heard over the past half hour. She had been convinced they had their killer, but her instinct was now telling her something was terribly wrong. How could she explain that to Waverley when all she had to go on was her gut?
“Rachel?”
“Sorry, I was elsewhere. I’m pleased for you that Brenda is now in the clear and that you have arrested someone.”
“You’re not having second thoughts, are you? Surely that little charade didn’t fool you. She’s guilty, Rachel; she had ample motive, ample opportunity, and both men threatened to take her daughter’s inheritance away. I don’t believe for one minute that she’d only just heard about the will. A court will convict her and I’m sure she’ll confess soon enough.”
“Who told you she was arguing with Pash last night?”
“Mishka Prostakov – don’t look at me like that, Rachel. Just because the man was also being blackmailed by Sosa doesn’t mean he isn’t telling the truth. Anyway, you heard her admit to it.”
“Yes, that’s true, I heard her admitting to arguing with Pash last night. I hope we haven’t got this wrong; she was shocked at the news of Pash’s death, and she did openly admit that he threatened to put her in the frame for Sosa’s murder.”
“Only after she thought Pash had already told us.”
“Why would she think that if she knew Pash was already dead?”
“I expect she thought she’d knocked him off before he told us and was genuinely shocked that he managed to get to us first.”
“But why would she think he would do that if she’d agreed to give him the money?”
“Rachel, stop. It’s her. We have the right person, now leave it alone. Go and enjoy the rest of your cruise. I for one won’t be shedding any tears over a woman wh
o goes about killing people over money. Nor, for that matter, for the two dead men. Sounds like they both had it coming, but that does not make their murders right. Leave it now, please. You heard what she said, and the evidence against her is compelling. It was her badge at the murder scene, and from her own mouth we now know that she was the one to deliver the whisky to Sosa’s room.”
Rachel sighed, not convinced of anything, but she knew arguing with Waverley when he was in triumphant mode would get her nowhere. She got up and left Waverley’s office, angry and confused.
You can be so patronising and obstinate sometimes, Chief Waverley, she grumbled to herself as she took the stairs up to the main atrium and back to her room.
Chapter 23
After dinner, Rachel went to meet Sarah and Jason in the Jazz Bar. They were already there by the time she arrived and a glass of martini and lemonade was on the table, waiting. They were talking quietly away from other guests, but the music was loud enough to drown out any other noise anyway. At any other time, Rachel would have felt awkward at intruding, but she assumed Jason was telling Sarah about the arrest.
“Did my parents go to bed?”
“Yes, they sent their apologies, but gave me strict instructions that we are to meet them for breakfast tomorrow before going ashore – you too, Jason.”
“You mean Mum gave strict instructions!”
“I don’t remember.”
“Not convinced, but anyway I hear congratulations are in order. Well done, Rachel. You’ve done it again, although I have to say I’m surprised about it being Danielle. She always seemed pleasant, but I didn’t know her that well. Bernard will be gutted when I tell him. He’s quite fond of her, especially after hearing her story.”
