The Voluptuous Vixen (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 9)

by Frank W. Butterfield

  "Who?"

  "Rudson."

  . . .

  Once the captain arrived, we filled him in on what Mr. Williams had seen and what Mike had just told us. His jaw began to tighten and all the color drained from his face as he realized what we were saying. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Will you gentlemen wait for me on the deck?"

  We nodded and silently filed outside. As we waited, I pulled out a fresh pack of Camels that a bellboy had brought me earlier in the day. I offered cigarettes around. Frankie and Carter both took one. I lit theirs and then lit my own. We stood there in silence for a moment.

  Finally, Carter asked, "Did you have any idea, Nick?"

  I shook my head. "Not really. I just knew that something was off about her ability to get into all those rooms."

  Frankie blew out a couple of smoke rings and then said, "What do you think happened?"

  "I think he must have lured her onto the ship."

  "Which one?" asked Carter. It was a fair question.

  "Jennifer Rudson. The voluptuous one."

  Frankie said, "Or maybe it was all a coincidence." He took a long drag on his cigarette and then walked over to the railing, between two lifeboats, and flicked it over the side. He walked back to us and added, "But maybe he killed Jessica Tremaine."

  I nodded. I stepped over and put out my cigarette in the sand bucket by the Radio Office door. "Or was involved in getting her into our cabin." I could feel a familiar dread creeping in. Looking at Frankie, I asked, "When you were working, how did you handle unsolved cases?"

  He smiled wryly. "Not so well. I don't like the feeling that maybe you missed somethin'. I had this one call. The husband and wife had been going at it for two days. The neighbors had called us two, or maybe three, times. It was in the summer. Real scorcher of a night. Those are always the worst. The heat just gets to you. Anyways, we get another call from a neighbor. Now she's heard shots. Me and my partner get over there fast as fast can and we get into the apartment and the husband waits until we're in the living room and then, right over his dead wife, he blows his brains out. And he was lookin' right at us while he does it. And, you know what the worse part was?"

  Carter and I both shook our heads.

  "We never could figure out what they was fightin' about. We interviewed all the neighbors. They heard the yelling, but they ignored the argument. They each of 'em said the exact same thing. They'd heard the same argument over and over again. But no one knew what it was about. Some thought it was her parents interfering. Some thought it was money. He was a writer and it was hit and miss. But we never knew cause there was no one left to ask. That'll drive you nuts."

  I looked over at Carter and he just nodded. I wanted him to take me in his arms right then and I was pretty sure he wanted to do the same.

  . . .

  When the captain came out of the Radio Office, he said, "Sorry to have kept you waiting. I think we have this under control and I want to thank you gentlemen for your help. I've already made arrangements to have the purser reimburse the cost of your tickets and zero out any expenses you incurred while on board." He was speaking in an unemotional voice as if he was reading from a script. He shook hands with each of us and dismissed us by saying, "Thank you again. And have a good night."

  We walked away in silence. When we began to head below down the staircase, Frankie said, "Something fishy there."

  Carter said, "And how."

  Chapter 9

  Lanai Suites 128 & 130, Upper Deck

  S.S. Hilo at sea

  Sunday, August 15, 1954

  Early morning

  As we were undressing, I pulled out a small bag from one of the trunks and laid it on the table between the beds.

  "What is that?" asked Carter.

  "That's a bag of silver dollars that my father gave me on Wednesday."

  "What for?"

  "He said it was a tradition as the ship is pulling into the harbor in Honolulu to toss coins down to the kids who swim next to the ship as it comes in."

  "How did he know?"

  "I have no idea."

  Carter came up behind me and pulled me in close. Kissing my neck, he said, "I want to do this again without the dead body. How about you?"

  I nodded, reached up for his hands, and put my fingers between his. "Sure. We'll just lock the door and never leave the room."

  "Or maybe we can sail the Captain across?" That was our eighty-foot yacht sitting in the San Francisco Bay.

  "I don't think he'll make it on the Pacific. Those rolling waves the other night would probably have capsized our little tub. But, if you asked him, I'm sure Captain O'Reilly would be happy to give it a shot."

  "How long do you think it would take?"

  "Probably two weeks. But I don't know. I don't know much about sailing."

  He kissed my neck again and pressed even closer. "You know more than me."

  I turned around and put my arms around him. "Not much, Chief."

  He lifted me up off the floor and kissed me soundly on the lips. Then, throwing me on the bed, he said, "I love it when you call me that."

  . . .

  We decided to eat breakfast in our cabin on the day the ship arrived in Honolulu. Our steward brought in a tray not long after dawn. We sat on the sofa in the sitting room and fed each other fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, and bacon. It was a wonderful way to start the day and nothing felt rushed.

  I had begun to notice the sultriness of the air. There was also some sort of floral scent that just seemed out of reach. The air was warm and I felt more relaxed than I had in a long while.

  I just wanted to sit with Carter on that sofa and look out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the ocean forever but, pretty soon, he was up and beginning to get things packed and I decided maybe getting off the ship might actually be a good idea, so I began to get in there with him.

  We were just about done when there was a sharp knock on the door. I opened it and found the chief steward standing there. He looked tired and haggard, as if he hadn't had much sleep.

  I said, "Come in, Mr. Harris."

  He did just that as I closed the door behind him.

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the pass key. Handing it to the man, I said, "Here you go."

  He smiled wanly and said, "Thank you." He pocketed the key and then continued, "I don't have but a moment. However, I couldn't let you leave without thanking you both for your help. We owe you a debt of gratitude for your assistance and I wish to once again apologize for doubting your professionalism. I hope you will be able to join us again for a less lively excursion."

  I put out my hand and said, "Thanks, Mr. Harris." I looked at him for a long moment. "But, I have a feeling the worst part of all of this has yet to happen."

  Carter walked up, stood behind me with his hand on my shoulder, and reached around to shake the chief steward's hand as well.

  The man looked at me and sighed. "Yes. I've been receiving a stream of inquiries from San Francisco for the last twenty-four hours. The story was on the front page of the Examiner yesterday. And Monday's papers will be even worse."

  "Why's that?" I asked.

  "Dr. Kilpatrick managed to kill himself after murdering that poor young woman last night."

  Chapter 10

  The Monarch Room

  Royal Hawaiian Hotel

  Honolulu, Hawaii Terr.

  Monday, August 16, 1954

  Just past 8 in the evening

  Carter and I walked into the large dining room of the hotel and had a look around. We were both in black tie tuxedo, as were many of the other men present, but not all of them. I was looking for Ros, although I was sure she hadn't arrived yet. The table was reserved for 8, so she and Freddie would arrive at around 8:15 or so.

  I walked up to the maitre d' and said, "Table for Brisson."

  The man smiled tightly and said, "Follow me, please."

  As we walked through the dining room, I could hear people saying my name. We'd been holed up in ou
r suite since we'd checked in, ordering in for our meals, and having a hell of a lot of fun rolling around on the expensive linen sheets. I wondered what had happened in the thirty or so hours since we'd arrived.

  The table was in the back corner. The dining room opened up to the ocean and we were next to the terrace where a few couples were already dancing to the orchestra. The song was something Polynesian that I didn't recognize. The dancers were doing the foxtrot, not the hula, however.

  Frankie and Maria were already at the table. Carter ordered a beer from the waiter who appeared as soon as the maitre d' left. I asked for a martini. Once the waiter was on his way, Maria, who was seated next to Carter, leaned in and asked, "Have you read the papers today?"

  Using what Carter called my "high-hat tone," I flicked open my napkin and asked, "What could it be now?"

  Carter snorted and Frankie smiled. Maria looked over at me and said, "It's all about you."

  I shook my head. "Unless I'm accused of more than the usual crimes, I don't wanna know."

  Maria sat back and frowned. Carter put his hand on her arm and said, "Nick stopped reading the papers last year. Just got to be too much. He's not being rude."

  I shook my head. "That's not true, Carter. I'm definitely being rude and, Maria, I'm sorry for it."

  She smiled over at me. "Oh, that's OK, Nick. I understand. I just didn't want you to be taken by surprise."

  I smiled grimly and said, "Nothing like that surprises me anymore."

  Right then, Ros and Freddie appeared at the table, right behind the maitre d'. Ros smiled as we men stood. "Ah, children. How nice to see you all."

  She was wearing a coral number that made her eyes sparkle. Freddie looked as handsome as ever. After they'd put in for their drinks, I said, "No news. I don't wanna know about anything in the paper. And, I don't wanna talk about that damned ship." Remembering who I was with, I said, "If you don't mind."

  Ros laughed and said, "Fantastic. I was going to say the same thing if you hadn't beat me to it." Turning to Maria, she asked, "Are you having trouble with you hair and all this humidity?"

  As Maria answered, I got the sense that she was wondering if she'd died and gone to heaven.

  . . .

  Later that night, we were dancing to a different orchestra in the Grand Ballroom. As had happened on the ship, Carter and I were dancing with Ros and Maria while Freddie and Frankie talked over whatever they talked over at the table. After we'd been there about thirty minutes, Barbara Hale and Bill Williams joined us. They were staying down the street at the Moana. Ros had called them and asked them to have a nightcap with us and they did.

  It was a grand evening except for two things. First, I wanted to dance with my husband. Every time we would pass each other, he would wink at me. And every time it got a little harder not to let go of Maria or Ros and walk into his arms. The second thing was the amount of whispering from other people. Folks would come in, see us there, stand and talk about us with other folks, and then go about their business. That was getting old and fast.

  The orchestra took a break around 11. We moved to a larger table, further in the back of the ballroom, and sat down for a while. Once we were settled, Ros looked at me and said, "OK, Nick. It's that time. I need you to be like Monsieur Poirot and tell us what happened on the Hilo." Miss Hale and Mr. Williams both nodded.

  Frankie said, "I don't mean to be disrespectful, Miss Russell, but Nick's been through a lot and maybe that isn't such a good idea."

  Ros looked over at Frankie for a moment. I just sat and waited. It seemed like the entire room was listening and waiting for her reply. Finally, Ros sighed and said, "Perhaps you're right, Mr. Vasco. I should just keep my big mouth shut." She turned to her husband, and asked, "Shouldn't I, Freddie?"

  Before he could reply, I cleared my throat, downed the rest of my third martini, and said, "At this point, I don't really care. Might as well go over it, just to get it out of my system. Won't have to think about it anymore."

  Ros smiled and lifted her empty champagne coupe. "That's the spirit!" She looked around the room. "Now, where's that waiter? I need more champagne."

  . . .

  Once everyone was topped up, I said, "The story starts with Jessica Tremaine and the day she murdered her parents back in '39."

  Miss Hale asked, "Now, she was the smaller of the two gals, right?"

  I nodded. "That first night at the captain's table, Jessica Tremaine was dressed in the rose pattern dress. The one in the tuxedo was Jennifer Rudson."

  Carter said, "They were the same height, same hair color, and same eye color. That made it hard to tell who was who until we got word that Rudson was considered voluptuous."

  I looked at Carter and smiled. He was becoming a fine detective.

  Frankie asked, "What did you find out about that doctor?"

  I shook my head. "Not much. When the captain dismissed us, that was it."

  Miss Hale said, "I'm sorry Mr. Williams, but can you start at the beginning? I only have the story that was in the paper today. And, I imagine, it isn't the whole story, is it?"

  I shrugged. "I don't read the papers these days. So, maybe you can tell me. But, yes," I looked over at Ros, "Mr. Poirot wouldn't like this at all, so I'll start at the beginning." Ros nodded and smiled at me.

  Frankie said, "Lemme start because, if you haven't read the papers, then there's a few things you don't know."

  I nodded gratefully.

  "Tremaine was committed to the hospital in Napa in 1938 and Rudson in 1942. The doctor started working there in 1945. He'd been in the Army as a psych doctor and then got a job in Napa after he was discharged. In 1952, he was fired after it was discovered he'd been messin' around with Rudson, who was his patient."

  Carter asked, "Then why didn't he lose his medical license?"

  Frankie shrugged. "Inquiries, as they say, are being made. Meanwhile, he somehow got this cushy job with Coral Lines on the Hilo less than a month after being let go from the hospital. Tremaine and Rudson were released at the same time, last November, which the papers think is mighty fishy, and I have to agree with them. They set up housekeeping in one of Nick's buildings in San Francisco. Tremaine got her inheritance after she was released. From what I saw, they musta been going through costume shops and second-hand stores in Frisco like crazy, cause that's all they had."

  I nodded. "My guys said that the apartment had nothing personal in it. Just furniture."

  Frankie said, "Well, that's all the background I got. You pick it up from there."

  I grinned at him and said, "So, last Sunday, Tremaine, using the alias Rosanne Rucker, bought two tickets on the Hilo. One for her and one for Rudson. Of course, for unknown reasons, they switched names."

  Ros shook her head. "But why? That just doesn't make any sense."

  Carter said, "No, it doesn't. But neither do the costumes. It must have meant something to them."

  Maria piped up. "Like a private joke."

  I nodded. "That's probably what it was. Anyway, the captain, seeing two couples of our persuasion traveling on his ship, decides it would be a good idea for us to sort of double-date. Only, it doesn't take."

  Ros laughed ruefully. "The poor man. That first night, he looked so disappointed."

  I laughed and said, "I set him straight, so to speak. It wasn't gonna take, no matter what his intentions were."

  Carter said, "Tell them about the next morning by the pool."

  "Hold on, Chief. I was getting there."

  Carter nodded with a look on his face that told me I might be in trouble later. It was my turn to wink, so I did. And I got a smile in reply which made me feel all warm inside.

  Turning back to the others, I said, "So, while Carter and Ros were at their ukulele lesson--"

  "What?" That was Miss Hale.

  Ros waved her hand. "Oh, never mind, Barbara."

  Carter said, "She was the hit of the lesson, though."

  "Yes, yes, fine. Now, Nick, do go on."

  A
s everyone else laughed, I said, "Well, I was sitting near the pool, reading my Uncle Paul's journal about his time in Shanghai--"

  "Wait." That was Freddie. "His time in Shanghai?"

  I nodded as Ros said, "Enough stalling. Freddie," she turned and looked at her husband, "you can take a meeting with Nick when we're all back in California." Waving her hands again, she said, "Now, no more interruptions." She was smiling as she said all of that but I could see the glint of steel in her eyes. She wanted her Mr. Poirot, so I decided I would try.

  "As I was reading, Rosie, as I still think of her, walked up. She was wearing a white two-piece number with a rose on it. She sat down and ordered a bottle of champagne and then began to flirt with me."

  Ros said, "I assume she got no truck out of you in that quarter."

  Looking at Carter, I said, "No, she didn't. And I was clear about that even as she offered up the goods." That made Maria and Miss Hale both giggle while Mr. Williams smirked at me, obviously wanting more details about the goods.

  I took a sip of beer and said, "The next thing that happened was that I sent a radiogram to the office to ask them to check on this Rosanne Rucker. The captain got wind of it and asked me about it. I just told him I had a bad feeling and that I usually check things out when that happens."

  Miss Hale said, "And I'm glad you did. Otherwise who knows what she might have done."

  That hit me hard. In those few words, my feelings about this case got instantly clear. "No, Miss Hale, I can't say it was the right thing at all. If I hadn't gone sniffing, they might have just sailed right on to Honolulu and we'd be none the wiser." What I wanted to say next was that everyone would still be alive. I could feel my eyes getting wet. I looked over at Carter, who nodded reassuringly. I took a deep breath. "Regardless, what happened next was that we heard back from Mike Robertson, the president of our private investigation firm, and he reported that Rosanne Rucker was a known alias for Jessica Tremaine and that she had murdered her parents in Bakersfield and all that." I wasn't sure I could continue. I was still reeling from what Miss Hale had innocently pointed out.