The Voluptuous Vixen (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 9)

by Frank W. Butterfield

  "You have to try the Hilo cocktail, gentlemen. It's not to be missed."

  I smiled. "Thank you, Captain." We shook once more and then Miss Kilgore escorted us across the room towards the stage where a pianist was playing a Gershwin tune.

  As we walked through the crowd, she asked, "First time at sea?"

  Carter nodded. I said, "I was in the Navy."

  She smiled. "Then the boat drill was probably old hat for you, wasn't it?" She stopped at a spot near the stage and waved down a waiter.

  I said, "It's always good to know where everything is. When I was being transported back at the end of the war, I was on the S.S. Carmel."

  "Oh, one of our sister ships!"

  The waiter walked up right then and asked, "Yes, Miss Kilgore?"

  "Could you bring us two Hilos, please?"

  He smiled, nodded, and said, "Of course."

  As he moved over to the bar, Miss Kilgore continued, "I've only seen photos, but I'm sure you notice how different our ships are now. Everything is so sleek and modern these days. And what about you, Mr. Jones? I believe you said this is your first time?"

  Carter smiled his dazzling smile and said, "Yes, ma'am. We've been maybe a mile out in the ocean from the shore in our boat--"

  "Ship." I couldn't help myself. Old habits die hard.

  "Ship," he said with a sideways glance in my direction, "but this is an altogether different matter."

  The waiter walked up with a tray. On it were two drinks in what looked like a thick martini glass with a bulbous stem. The cocktails were a pale caramel color with a lemon peel floating in the middle.

  Miss Kilgore said, "This is a Hilo cocktail. It was created on this ship in 1936. Try it and tell me what you think."

  We both took a glass. I sniffed it. There was obviously champagne in the drink. And probably cognac. And something else. I took a sip. I smiled in response. It was sweet, much too sweet for me. And, for some reason, I thought of rye bread.

  I glanced over at Carter who was looking down at his glass. I knew he wouldn't like it. And, because I knew him, it was obvious he didn't.

  I asked, "What's that extra flavor?"

  Miss Kilgore smiled. "Guess!"

  Carter asked, "Bread?"

  I laughed. "That's what I was going to say. Rye bread."

  Miss Kilgore laughed. "That's the best response I've ever heard. As a matter of fact, it has kümmel in it. That's a liqueur made with caraway seed. That's why it made you think of rye bread." She smiled at both of us understandingly. "Should Rudy bring you another drink?"

  I shook my head. I could bear it out.

  Carter looked at the waiter and asked, "Do you have beer?"

  Rudy smiled and said, "When we sail out of San Francisco, we carry Burgermeister and Hamm's. On tap."

  We both quickly put our glasses on the tray and, in unison, said, "Bergie, please."

  Once Rudy was gone, I said, "Miss Kilgore, I hope we're not monopolizing you." By this time, the room was full. I noticed she was keeping an eye on the Captain.

  She smiled. "Oh, not at all. Truth is, I'm waiting for the arrival of the other couple. The Captain specifically asked me to introduce you. They'll be sitting with you at the table."

  "Who else will be with us?"

  "Well, there's Mr. and Mrs. Lee Bunnell." She looked at both us to see if we recognized the name.

  I shook my head.

  "She's also known as Gale Storm. Have you seen her TV show?"

  I shook my head again.

  Carter said, "Nick disapproves of television on principle. We don't even have one."

  Miss Kilgore smiled deprecatingly, as if we would, at some future date, finally figure out what we were missing. She was, however, quite wrong on that matter. As long as I lived, I would never own a TV. I had no interest in the boob tube.

  I looked over at Carter. "But she was in that Christmas movie you like so much. The one with Don DeFore."

  Carter shot back at me. "And Alan Hale."

  I nodded and didn't say anything. This was a bone of contention between us. I liked the movie well enough, but Carter would sit through multiple showings of it, whenever it would appear. And it was always appearing somewhere in San Francisco around Christmas. Also, he mooned over Don DeFore, which I thought was ridiculous. He felt the same way about how I tended to get weak in the knees for Alan Hale, who was so big, blond, and blustery. Just my type.

  "Which one was that?" asked Miss Kilgore.

  Carter replied, "It Happened On 5th Avenue."

  She shook her head. "I must have missed that one. But, I'm so excited to meet her. I love her TV show and she's so bubbly and friendly."

  Right then Rudy showed up with two glasses of beer. Carter and I both took ours. I tried not to gulp mine down, but I wanted to get the flavor of caraway seed out of my mouth.

  Carter asked, "Who else?"

  Miss Kilgore's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "The Captain was very excited when he saw her name on the passenger list again." She looked at both of us, paused, and then said, "Rosalind Russell!" A band should have played a "ta-da" sound in the background somewhere. Less enthusiastically, she added, "And her husband, Frederick Brisson, who's a producer."

  I smiled at Carter who looked confused. "Who's that?" he asked.

  "His Girl Friday?" I prompted.

  "Never heard of it."

  "The Women?" asked Miss Kilgore.

  "Sorry. Don't know that one, either."

  "I know," I said. "Never Wave At A WAC. We saw it last year with Janet."

  Carter nodded. "Yeah." Janet had died in June of 1953. We'd seen the movie with her in January. That was one of the last times we'd been with her before she was murdered.

  Miss Kilgore noticed a turn in the conversation and seemed concerned. To change the subject, I asked her, "What's your job on the ship?"

  "Oh, I'm the social hostess. And it's so much fun! I get to meet interesting people, just like the two of you." She looked up. "Oh, I can see that the other couple is here." She looked at her watch, which was a slim job covered in diamonds. "And, just in time, too," she murmured. "Will you gentlemen wait here while I join the Captain for a moment?"

  I nodded as she walked away.

  Carter said, "She seems fun."

  "Who do you think this mystery couple is?"

  "I know who they are. Well, I don't who they are, but I know what they are." He was looking over my head and across the room.

  "What they are?"

  "A lady couple." That was Carter's description of two women in love with each other.

  "Oh. Now, I get it."

  . . .

  After five minutes or so, Miss Kilgore walked up with two gals in tow and said, "Miss Rucker and Miss Thomas, may I present Mr. Williams and Mr. Jones?"

  "Rosanne Rucker," said the first one. She was about 5'6" or so. She had sparkling blue eyes, blonde hair the color of straw that she slicked back like a man's haircut from the 30s. She was wearing a perfectly tailored black tie tuxedo that reminded me of Marlene Dietrich in the old movie, Morocco. She offered her hand and shook mine firmly and then did the same with Carter.

  Miss Kilgore said, "This is Carmen Thomas." I extended my hand to Miss Thomas, who was petite and almost waifish. She was taller than Miss Rucker, but I noticed she was wearing heels while her friend was wearing men's shoes. Her dress seemed to be right out of the early 30s, as well. It had layers of thin fabric, the outermost of which was a rose print and came down to just below her knees. Even her shoes looked old-fashioned. She wore a long string of pearls that she played with nervously. Her blonde hair was cut in a bob. She had wide blue eyes and an innocent expression on her face that made her look as though she was lost.

  I wondered if they were wearing costumes or if that was how they usually dressed.

  Carter said, "I'm Carter and he's Nick."

  "I'm Rosie and this is Carmen."

  Miss Kilgore beamed as if we'd all done something very clever. "Well, isn't t
his wonderful? I must be off and mingle. Be sure to try the Hilo, girls. And, Mr. Williams, don't give away the secret ingredient!"

  I nodded as she turned and went off on her way.

  Rosie looked at me. "You didn't try that awful cocktail, did you?"

  I nodded. "It was too sweet for me."

  Carmen popped up. "I like it, myself."

  Carter smiled and said, "Well, I'll try most anything once. But they do have beer." He looked at Rosie who shook her head.

  "Champagne is my style."

  Carmen looked rather blank and said, "Morning, noon, and night," to no one in particular.

  . . .

  "In the morning, you really must try the pineapple juice. It's fresh. Not like that canned stuff, which I can't abide." That was the redoubtable Rosalind Russell giving me tips on how best to enjoy the trip. She was sitting on my right, between the Captain and me. On my left was Carmen, who had very little to say to anyone about anything. On her left was Mr. Bunnell, Gale Storm's husband. On his left was Miss Kilgore, who was bubbling on about her enthusiasm for his wife. On her left, was Mr. Brisson, Miss Russell's husband, who was getting no traction out of Rosie, who was saying "Yes" and "No" to every question he asked. Carter was sitting on her left and was chatting away with Gale Storm. This left the Captain mostly alone and looking slightly bewildered.

  I nodded and asked Miss Russell, "How many times have you been on the ship?"

  "Freddie and I have been to Hawaii and back once before. We took the ship over and then flew back to L.A. Will you be flying home?"

  I nodded. "On Pan American."

  "They're my favorite. So much room. You'll love it. So, which is your wife?"

  I turned and looked right at Miss Russell. "I'm traveling with my friend, Mr. Jones." I nodded in Carter's direction.

  "Oh, I see." She looked at me closely for a long moment. "Oh, yes, I do see." She looked over at Carter, leaned over to me, and quietly said, "He looks much better in person, don't you think?"

  I smiled and nodded.

  She laughed and said, "Well, of course you do."

  "What are you working on right now?" I had no idea if that was the right question, but I thought I would give it a shot.

  "I finished Wonderful Town on Broadway in January. I adore working in New York, but I'm glad to be done and to have a rest. That's why we're on our way to Hawaii. I need some sun and sand. We both do, really. And what about you?"

  I didn't know what to say. "Well, it's been an interesting couple of months."

  "So I read. Did you really lead a riot in the county jail? Or is that just Hearst all over?"

  Everyone at the table stopped talking all at once.

  I laughed. "That's Hearst. And, no, there were no riots."

  Carter added, "But he did cook breakfast for the inmates and kept a riot from happening."

  I looked over at Gale Storm, whose mouth was hanging open. Miss Kilgore came to the rescue and said, "Well, Captain, what's the weather look like for the trip?"

  He smiled at her approvingly. "It's smooth sailing all the way."

  Everyone nodded at each other and started talking, or not talking, once again.

  Miss Russell leaned in and whispered, "Sorry about that. I can run off at the mouth sometimes."

  I shook my head and whispered, "Maybe we should have used aliases."

  She pulled back and looked me up and down. "No. Anyone who reads the newspaper would recognize you." She tilted her head at Carter and said, "Particularly Stretch over there."

  "Most people call him Red. I don't see it--"

  She looked at him directly, tilting her head up a little as she did. Carter glanced at me and flushed a little under her gaze. She nodded. "Red. That's right." She took a sip of wine. "So, I read that you have a nice little yacht. The coast around San Francisco is so marvelous. It must be fun to just jump on and sail under the Golden Gate Bridge whenever you want."

  I smiled and said, "It is."

  . . .

  After dinner, we joined Miss Russell and her husband in the ballroom. Carter and I took turns dancing with her while her husband sat at the table and told us stories about his adventures in Hollywood and New York.

  I had no idea what time it really was, but it felt like midnight, if not later, when we all decided to call it a night.

  They were staying in Suite 133, another Lanai Suite on the opposite side of the Upper Deck from us. Before we left the ballroom, we agreed to meet for breakfast the next morning.

  They headed down to the Upper Deck and to bed while Carter and I went for a stroll around the Promenade Deck. It was a beautiful night. The stars were clear and ripe for the picking.

  We eventually made our way below to the Upper Deck and walked to the front of the ship. In front of the swimming pool was a railing and we stood next to it for a long while, watching the stars and the wake of the ship as it moved forward through the waters below.

  There were a handful of people on the deck but they were all quietly talking with each other like we were. I leaned against the railing and looked up at the sky, above the double smoke stacks.

  "Now I'm glad we did this."

  "There you go."

  I pulled out a package of Camels and looked at Carter. He nodded, so I put two in my mouth and lit them using my beat-up old Zippo. I handed one of them to Carter and sucked in on the other one.

  "You never told me the story of how that Zippo got bent," he said.

  "Sure I did."

  "Well, if you did, I don't remember, so tell me again."

  I puffed on my cigarette and turned in Carter's direction. "I don't know how it happened. Mack and I were in his bunk together and feeling frisky and making way too much noise. After we'd been asleep for a while, the guy in the bunk below him came in and woke us up. When I sat up, I realized my lighter was underneath us. I pulled it out and saw that it was bent. Never could figure out how it happened."

  "Maybe Mack was just that strong?"

  I puffed again and then tossed my cigarette over the rail and watched as it fell to the ocean below.

  "You miss him?" Carter asked.

  "Sure. Don't you?"

  "Yeah. It was good that you remembered he was buried in Arlington Cemetery. I'm glad we went by last summer." Mack had been my best friend after the war and had re-enlisted in the Navy after things heated up in Korea. He died in action a few months later.

  "Me, too," I quietly said.

  "You ever hear from his mother again, after she came to town in 1950?"

  I shook my head. "No. Well, that is to say, I didn't. Jeffery did. She did what she promised and made a donation to the Williams Benevolent Foundation." Jeffery was Jeffery Klein, Esq. He was my ex-lawyer, ex-lover, and ex-friend, all though he'd made amends for some of what he'd done in the past as I was feeling more friendly towards him recently.

  "Speaking of Jeffery, what's the latest?"

  "He and Rachel are having a trial separation. That's what he told me at Marnie's wedding. Didn't you talk to him?"

  Carter flicked his cigarette off the side of the ship. "No. I'm still not over what he did to Robert, firing him for being queer and all that. Oh, and the tiny little fact that it was his fault we ended up in jail." He'd underwritten the psychiatrist whose theory was used to put us in jail for not doing anything illegal. Fortunately, my whiz-bang current attorney, one Kenneth Wilcox, had blown the quack out of the water on cross-examination and fallen in love with his co-counsel at the same time.

  "He didn't mean to do that."

  "I know. My head gets it, but I'm just not ready to forgive yet."

  I looked at Carter in the dim light. "You've never been jealous of Jeffery, have you?"

  "Never. He was a terrible boyfriend to you, Nick. He was awful with that poor Taylor Wells. He's treated Rachel badly. I could never be jealous of him."

  "He's a good lawyer, though."

  "Sure. But he's no longer your lawyer. Or mine. And that's all that I care about."
/>   I nodded. "What about that Rosie and Carmen tonight?"

  "They were something. Do you think those were costumes? Or the real thing?"

  "While we were dancing, I realized they were both dressed like characters in Morocco."

  "Rosie was definitely Marlene Dietrich. But who was Carmen dressed like?"

  "The girl who's in love with Gary Cooper."

  "Oh, yeah. I remember. That's the one that Marlene kisses after she sings that song, right?"

  I nodded and looked up at the stars again. "What a crazy couple. I wonder what their story is?"

  "At this point, I don't care. Take me to bed, Nicholas."

  And I did.

  Chapter 3

  The Diamond Head Room, "B" Deck

  S.S. Hilo at sea

  Thursday, August 12, 1954

  Second Breakfast Seating

  Much to the annoyance of our waiter, Carter and I decided we would wait until Miss Russell and her husband arrived before we ordered any food. We were at a table for four that I'd secured for a twenty. The room was full of excited families talking about their plans for the day. While we waited, we did get a pot of coffee and fresh pineapple juice. And, Miss Russell was right. It was like nothing I'd ever tasted. Carter, in particular, liked it so much, he asked for a second glass.

  After about ten minutes, Miss Russell walked in. She was dressed in a light blue skirt and sleeveless white blouse. Her dark hair was pulled back in a white scarf. She looked refreshed and happy to see us. We both stood up as she approached. Carter pulled out her chair.

  As she took her seat, she said, "Freddie sends his regrets. He has some cables to answer and wanted to take care of that over eggs and toast in the room." Looking around at the dining room, she said with a big smile, "It's a glorious morning, fellas. How was your first night at sea?"

  Carter said, "It was just fine, Miss Russell, we--"

  "I absolutely insist you call me Ros." She smiled in just the way I'd seen her do in the movies. Putting her napkin in her lap, she continued, "All my friends do."

  I smiled and said, "Thank you, Ros. I'm Nick and he's Carter."

  "Glad to know you, boys. Now, how was that pineapple juice?"

  . . .