"Yes it is and, Captain, your ship is just marvelous!"
The captain nodded as Carter asked, "When does your TV show start up again?"
Miss Storm turned and favored Carter with a thin smile. "In September, of course. This is our last little summer adventure before we're back to work."
The captain asked, "Are you a fan, Mr. Jones?"
Carter looked at me for a moment and said, "We don't have a television, but--"
The two young ladies both gasped. Miss Storm put her hand to her chest and looked at Carter in disbelief.
I said, "It's my fault. And we don't really have a place to put one." This was met with silence.
Carter picked things back up by saying, "But I did want to tell you," his voice was dripping with honey, "how much we both enjoy It Happened On 5th Avenue. We see it every year at Christmas. It's always playing somewhere in San Francisco." Miss Storm favored Carter with a slightly wider smile.
I nodded and said "It's his favorite. Carter will sit and watch it twice, if I let him." Ros, Freddie, and the captain laughed at that. The two young gals looked at each other knowingly while Miss Storm and her husband frowned.
Miss Kilgore, who, I noticed, was wearing her diamond watch, asked, "Which do you prefer, Miss Storm? Television or movies?"
"Television is so much more real. It's like being on stage. Don't you agree, Ros?"
"I wouldn't know, Mrs. Bunnell." Miss Storm's eyes widened slightly at being addressed by her married name. "I've never been in a regular program like yours." Looking at me, she smiled and said, "We have a television but never have time to sit down and watch." Glancing over at Miss Storm, Ros asked, "What's the name of your program again, dear?"
"My Little Margie--"
"Of course." She smiled waspishly. There was no mistaking it. "Such a sweet name."
"Thank you." Miss Storm turned to Miss Kilgore. "And we don't rehearse nearly as much as we did for movies."
Ros turned her head slightly and asked, "Is that what they did over at Monogram? Rehearse? I had no idea."
Miss Storm smiled brightly and said, "That's right. When did you start at Metro, Ros? 1929? Before sound, wasn't it?"
Ros replied with a thin smiled, "It was Universal and that was in 1934."
"Universal? I had no idea."
The captain cleared his throat nervously. "Mr. Brisson, is it true that you fell in love with your wife by watching her in a film?"
Freddie nodded with a grin on his face. "Quite true, Captain. When I was sailing from England to America in 1939, The Women was playing over and over on the ship. After hearing the dialogue again and again, I decided to finally sit down and see what the movie was really about. Well, once I did, I realized that if I ever met this Rosalind Russell that I was going to either kill her or marry her."
Ros laughed, looked around the table, stopped at Miss Storm, and said, "Almost everyone thinks he made the right choice."
. . .
After dinner, Carter and I met with Vasco and Farnsworth in the bar on the Promenade Deck. It was smoky and the lights were low. Perry Como was singing about the gal he wanted over the hi-fi speakers positioned throughout the room.
We sat at a table in the back in order to have privacy. Carter and I were sipping on glasses of Bergie. Farnsworth had a glass of Coke. Vasco was trying out a fancy cognac since I was buying. He was also smoking a big Cuban cigar.
"What's next, fellas?" That was Vasco.
I shook my head. "We wait. I don't see what else we can do."
Farnsworth looked at me for a long moment. "You ever try to flush game?"
"I'm a city boy, through and through."
"What about you, Mr. Jones? Seems like I read you were from Georgia."
"The only thing I've ever hunted was squirrel, but with a slingshot, not a rifle."
"What about you, Vasco?"
The man laughed. "Are you kidding? All I've ever hunted was criminals. But never in a place like this. It'd be like walking up Park Avenue and searching every apartment building. Can't be done."
Farnsworth nodded. "So, we wait. Something is bound to happen."
I leaned in. "But, as the captain said, the question is what."
"You want my opinion?" asked Farnsworth.
The rest of us nodded in unison. Vasco said, "Sure."
"One of 'em is the butch, right? Isn't that the term?" He looked at me when he asked that.
I shrugged. "That's what I would've said last night, but after this morning, I think it was all an act."
Farnsworth nodded. "I see your point. But let's assume the show they put on last night was pretty close to the truth. From what you said, it sounds like the other one, Miss Thomas, was just along for the ride. Miss Rucker, or Tremaine, was the one in charge."
"Yeah," I said, "and so?"
"And so," he smiled slightly at that, "I'm more worried about Miss Thomas than I am about any of the passengers."
Vasco looked at me. "Do you have the M.O. for the parents' murder?"
I said, "I'm waiting for a radiogram back."
Farnsworth stood up. "Good night, gentlemen. Call me if you need me, but my wife is already in bed and waiting for me, so I'm off."
We all stood up and shook hands with the man. As he walked away, I turned to Vasco. "What about your wife?"
"Funny you should ask that, Mr. Williams--"
"I'm Nick and this is Carter."
The man grinned and said, "Call me Frankie. So, as I was sayin', my Maria, she sure loves all the movie stars on this ship and I'd consider it a real favor if we two could join you and Carter. She's a great dancer."
Carter smiled. "We're not movie stars."
"Yeah, well, you're famous anyhow and Maria loves Rosalind Russell, if you take my meaning."
I nodded and asked, "Where is your wife?"
"I left her outside. She wanted to watch the stars. Come on and I'll introduce you."
We followed Vasco through the bar and outside to the starboard side of the ship. He walked up to a pretty gal in a pink dress who was leaning against the railing and gazing out at the ocean.
"Maria?"
"You done?"
As she turned, I saw her more fully in the light that spilled out from the foyer. She was a bit shorter than Frankie, with a slender build, and curly black hair that framed her beautiful face. Her dress fell to her calves in the New Look style and really accentuated her figure.
"Sure. Look who I brought to meet you."
The woman looked first at Carter and then at me. She smiled brightly and offered her hand to me first. "Mr. Williams, it's a real pleasure. I hope my Frankie is doing his job right, whatever it is."
I smiled and said, "The pleasure is all mine. And he's making New York proud."
Frankie smiled broadly when I said that.
Mrs. Vasco looked a bit shy when it came to Carter. I couldn't blame her. I felt that way myself sometimes. She extended her hand and said, "Mr. Jones. Real nice to meet you."
He took her hand and kissed it, something I'd only ever seen him do once before. Apparently she was going to get the full Carter Jones treatment.
To prove me right, he put her hand through his arm and said, "May I have the pleasure of a dance with you?"
Mrs. Vasco giggled and said, "Sure."
. . .
Carter and I had been taking turns dancing with Ros and Maria, as she'd asked us to call her, for about an hour when a man in white uniform appeared at the table.
He asked, "Mr. Williams?"
I nodded.
"A radiogram for you." He handed me an envelope and walked away.
I looked over at Carter and then at Frankie. I took a quick sip of my martini and then opened the envelope.
NICK WILLIAMS C/O CORAL LINES SS HILO AT SEA. SKULLS CRUSHED WITH SPADE WHILE SLEEPING. JURY FOUND DEFECT AS TREMAINE CLAIMED UNABLE TO RECALL. INHERITANCE LEFT IN SOLID TRUST DISBURSED ON RELEASE FROM NAPA. LIVES 1094 CHESTNUT APT 7C. ROBERT REPORTS 2 BD 2 BA MOVE IN JAN 54 PAY
ON TIME NO COMPLAINTS. NEIGHBORS SAY 2 WOMEN. RUCKER IS ONLY LISTED FOR MAIL. STILL NOTHING ON C THOMAS. MIKE.
I handed the telegram to Carter, who read it and then passed it to Frankie. Ros, Freddie, and Maria started talking as if nothing was happening. They all knew something was up, but none of them had pressed for any details.
Frankie stood up and said, "Let's go for a quick walk."
Carter and I stood, excused ourselves, and followed the man outside to the port side of the ship. Walking forward a bit until we were mostly alone, Frankie stopped and leaned against the railing.
"What do we do now? Have the captain tell everyone to bar the door in case a crazed lady should break in and bash 'em on the head with a shovel?"
I shook my head. "No. The captain, by the way, already has a copy of the radiogram."
Frankie still had the paper in his hand. He pointed at it and asked, "Who's this Robert?"
I replied, "Robert Evans. He's my property manager. I happen to own that building."
Frankie looked at me for a long moment and then rolled his eyes. "Course you do. Why not?"
Carter chuckled at that. I smiled and said, "In fact, I'm gonna wire back and tell them to go in and search the apartment for anything they can find."
Frankie smiled. "Wish I'd have known someone like you in New York. You don't need a warrant. You own the fuckin' building." He shook his head for a moment and then suddenly sobered up. "Why haven't one of them surfaced yet? Don't they need to use the can?"
I shrugged. "There are bathrooms everywhere. There are even public showers on the lower decks."
"But what about eating? They can't sign for anything. The staff knows to call them out if they try like you said."
Carter said, "They could sign using someone else's room number. No one has ever asked Nick who he was. He just wrote down the suite number."
I nodded. "But they need clean clothes. Or they will. And if one of them is wearing a wig with spirit gum, that's gonna come loose eventually."
I stood there for a moment and sighed. "I didn't wanna have to do this, but I think we need to patrol the ship tonight."
Carter nodded as did Frankie who said, "That's gonna suck, but I agree. We may not catch 'em, but at least we'll get the lay of the land."
Carter asked, "Should we call Farnsworth?"
I shook my head. "Let him sleep. He can take the morning shift. But we're gonna need to change out of these penguin suits."
Frankie said, "Don't you need to send another cable?"
I nodded. "I was gonna call it in from the room."
"Sure. Let's meet up top and then we can come up with a plan for moving up and down and criss-cross, so we look like insomniacs, if you know what I mean."
Carter and I both nodded. He asked, "What do we tell Ros and Freddie?"
I said, "They seem like good troopers. We'll just tell them to bolt their doors."
Right then, Maria, Ros, and Freddie walked out of the ballroom and over to where we were standing. Ros said, "It's too beautiful out here to stay stuck in there. Besides, we want to know what's going on. The jig is up, Nick. Spill."
I laughed and said, "It's kinda ugly."
Freddie said, "We've seen bad."
Ros nodded. "We've lived through bad. What's going on?"
"Rosie is really Jessica Tremaine. Ring any bells?"
Ros pulled back and said, "The girl who murdered her parents? Back in '37, was it?"
Maria shuddered. "1938. I still remember the pictures. Just like Lizzie Borden."
Ros added, "But it was a garden spade and not an ax, right?"
I nodded.
She looked around for a moment. "So, she's on board. Then who is that Carmen girl?"
I said, "We're not sure. They might be lovers, but they might not."
Freddie asked, "What's being done?"
"We can't find them. The crew are all keeping an eye out, but they have their jobs to do."
Ros shook her head. "And I suppose you got roped into this somehow. And you too, Mr. Vasco. What are you? A cop?"
Maria put her arm through Frankie's and said proudly, "He's a retired police sergeant." Frankie beamed at his wife, leaned in, and pecked her on the nose.
"So, what's the plan?" Ros asked.
I replied, "You all go lock yourselves in your rooms. We'll be patrolling the ship."
Ros and Freddie both shook their heads. "Oh, no you don't. We want in on this action." That was Ros.
Maria said, "Yeah. Me, too, Frankie."
I shook my head. "No, they could be dangerous."
Ros looked around. "As if it isn't dangerous to sail across the Pacific Ocean or cross a street. We're in on this deal and you can't stop us, right Freddie?" She looked at Maria who nodded and gave Frankie the kind of look that made it clear she was going to do exactly what she wanted to do.
Freddie smiled at me and said, "I'd give up now, Nick."
. . .
As Carter and I walked into the suite, I said, "Lemme call the Radio Office." I moved over to the phone, picked up the receiver, and waited for the operator.
Carter said, "Sure. I'm gonna grab some clothes from the other room. You want a pullover?"
I shook my head as the operator said, "Yes, Mr. Williams?"
"Can you give me the Radio Office?"
"I can take your message and have it sent first thing in the morning, if you'd like."
"Is the chief steward still awake?"
"Is there something I can help you with?"
I watched as Carter walked back into the room with a stricken look on his face. I wondered what was wrong.
"I have to send a radiogram as soon as possible. Can you check with the chief steward? He'll know what it's about. If it helps, it involves ship's business."
"I see. I don't like to disturb Mr. Harris this late."
"I think he'll want to be disturbed."
"Very well, Mr. Williams. I'll check with him."
"Thank you." I put the receiver back down in its cradle and looked up at Carter. He was standing stock still and his face was creased with anxiety. "What is it, Chief?"
"Something has happened, Nick." His voice was flat.
"What?"
"I found Carmen."
I moved over to him, took his hand, and walked into the other room with him.
Carmen's body was stretched out on the bed closest to the sitting area. She was wearing the same gauzy dress as the night before, including the same old-fashioned shoes. Her eyes were closed. Her hands were folded over her chest and, in her left hand, was a single stem of a rose.
I walked over and touched her neck. It was cold. I lifted her arm and it moved easily.
Carter was standing at the foot of the bed. "What killed her?"
I shrugged. "It definitely wasn't a shovel. What do you see?"
Carter moved over by me and looked for a moment. There was plenty of light since the lamp was on. There was no blood anywhere that I could see. No bruises, no lacerations, nothing obvious.
"Was the lamp switched on when you came in here?"
Carter nodded. "The steward knows we don't use this room. So, she must have been put in here since he made his rounds."
I sighed and said, "Let's call Mr. Harris."
. . .
Within twenty minutes, Mr. Harris, the ship's doctor, and the captain were all in the room. The doctor, a middle-aged man by the name of Robert Kilpatrick, was examining the body.
Mr. Harris asked, "She was like this when you walked in?"
Carter said, "We came in the door to 130. We've just been using this room for the trunks. We walked in, Nick picked up the phone to send a cable, and I came in here to get some clothes."
I added, "We were going to change and meet Sergeant Vasco up top and begin a criss-cross patrol of the ship's passageways. Have you seen the radiogram I received from San Francisco?"
Both the chief steward and the captain nodded. "What radiogram were you going to send?" asked the captain.
"I own the building where they live and I was going to tell my guys to enter the apartment to see if they could find anything."
The captain nodded as the doctor said, "This is interesting."
"What's that?" asked the captain.
Pointing to a scar on Carmen's forehead, he said, "This woman has received electroshock treatment. Repeatedly and over a long period of time."
The captain looked at me. "But I thought that Tremaine was the one who was hospitalized."
I nodded. "She was. And I know that the Napa State Hospital uses electroshock therapy."
The doctor said, "They began using it in '39 on a trial basis. What was she being treated for?"
I explained, "Jessica Tremaine, a.k.a. Rosanne Rucker, was hospitalized at Napa in '38 after being found not guilty of murder by reason of insanity. She killed her parents with a shovel--"
The doctor interrupted. "Yes. I've heard of Napa State Hospital using electroshock to help cure the criminally insane."
I said, "But, Doctor, this isn't Jessica Tremaine. This is Carmen Thomas."
Carter asked, "How do we know for sure? We didn't see any photographs in their cabins."
I sighed. He was right. Without photographs or descriptions, we had no idea who was who.
The captain nodded and said, "The only way we would know is if we'd seen their passports, but there's no need for that."
The doctor looked at me. "I understand you searched their rooms. Did you find a passport?"
I shook my head. "No purses, no wallets, no identification of any kind."
Mr. Harris looked at me angrily. "So, you're saying these two could be anyone?"
I nodded. "So far as what we can prove. However, I can cable my office and have them see if they can at least find a mug shot from when Tremaine was arrested."
That seemed to mollify him. He was taking all of this very personally, all of a sudden. It was probably the insult of having the body left in our room. That would get under my skin, if it was my ship.
Carter asked, "But would a mug shot from 1938 really help? That was sixteen years ago."
I shrugged. "We gotta start somewhere. Andy can try his Bureau contacts and see if they have a file on either one of them." Beauregard "Andy" Anderson was a former F.B.I. agent who worked with us. He was also a friend of Carter's from back in his childhood days in Albany, Georgia.
The Voluptuous Vixen (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 9) Page 7
