Set Sail for Murder

by Carolyn Hart

  One dramatic vista was supplanted with another and another. It was a challenge to stay with our group as we sped through galleries, glimpsing glory upon glory. Though I was soon surfeited by the abundance of beauty, some masterworks were especially memorable: Leonardo’s luminous Madonna and Child and Rembrandt’s touching Return of the Prodigal Son.

  I lost all sense of where we were or where we were going, my mind whirling with facts, my senses burdened by never-ending flashes of gilt, marble, shining wood, and massive pillars. I kept within a few paces of my fellow travelers, determinedly following the guide’s hoisted flag, and, truth to tell, was glad when the four-hour tour was almost done.

  The red flag bobbed ahead. Our group, surrounded by competing, pushing hordes of tourists, fetched up on a landing near a wide staircase that plunged down perhaps a hundred and fifty steps. This area had a dingy workaday appearance, the steps dull and dirt-streaked, a far cry from the grand Main Staircase where we’d entered.

  Anna, our tall, slender guide, waited for a straggler, then shepherded us near the top of the stairs and a stall with postcards and prints for sale. “Ladies and gentlemen, there are free restrooms at the base of the stairs. We will pause here for ten minutes. You may shop and then we shall return to the coach for our drive back to your ship.” I was looking forward to escaping from the tour and reaching the hotel.

  I looked down the steep, crowded stairs. I considered finding the restroom, knew walking down the long staircase would require climbing back up. I smiled at a rowdy contingent of huge young men good-naturedly bumping and shoving each other at the bottom landing. As they started up the steps, loud shouts boomed, “Hurry up, mate.” Two young men, dodging other tourists, raced each other upward, faces red with exertion. I guessed a sports team from Australia and wondered if they played rugby or soccer. They dwarfed ordinary travelers.

  I tried to move back from the landing and felt surrounded by poking elbows and brushing shoulders. The world was entirely too much with me. I was hot, tired, thirsty, and ready to leave. As our busload shifted and regrouped near the stall, some looking at the displays, others turning to go down the steps, I was vaguely aware of my fellow travelers, though other visitors were crowding in upon us. I glimpsed Jimmy, taller than most. Evelyn was fanning herself with a scarf she’d loosened from her throat. I shifted my position, realized I was very near the top step, tried to move away, found my progress blocked.

  A shrill scream rose above the hubbub. Everyone near the top of the stairs stood frozen, staring down the steps. Sophia tumbled forward, arms flung wide. Cries and shouts rose in the hot sticky air.

  “Hey, hey.” One of the big young men who had been racing upward abruptly lunged to his right. Massive hands reached up to grip Sophia. As he caught her, he propelled his heavy body forward, managing to turn as he crashed into the steps so that he took the impact.

  It happened in an instant.

  Jimmy raced down the steps, reached Sophia and her rescuer. He knelt, gathered her in his arms. The guide was right behind him. “Madame”—her clear voice carried—“how did this happen?” Two security guards pounded up the steps.

  The athlete’s mates hauled him upright. He pushed them away with a loud laugh. “I’m fine, boys. Better than on the field.” He reached up to massage his left shoulder. “Let’s see to the lady.”

  A freckle-faced young man turned toward Sophia. “Coo, that was a fine catch Brian made.”

  Jimmy struggled for breath. “Can you move, Sophia? Be careful. Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t think so.” Her voice was reedy. She held to his arm and shakily came to her feet. Her face was gray-white. She jerked away from Jimmy. “I’m fine.” She turned toward her rescuer, who stood there rubbing his shoulder. She reached out. “Thank you.”

  He tried to shrug, winced, awkwardly took Sophia’s hand. “Anytime, ma’am.” A flush of embarrassment tinged his cheeks with pink. “Glad to help.”

  “Brian?” Her voice was stronger. She held to his hand, looked up at him.

  “Brian Wheeler. Brisbane. Here for a soccer match. Just kidding around today, running up the steps. Guess it was a lucky thing.”

  “For me, very lucky.” She squeezed his hand, dropped it, then looked at Jimmy. “Get Brian’s name and address so I can thank him properly.”

  The athlete threw out his big hands. “No need, ma’am. My pleasure.”

  “You saved my life.” Sophia took another deep breath. Some color was edging back into her face. She nodded at the guide. “I wish to return to the ship. Now.”

  A security guard loomed over her, his wrinkled face in a tight frown. “Madame, can you tell us how this occurred?”

  She gazed at him without expression. “I”—her pause was noticeable—“fell. That’s all. Thank you for your concern.” She took a deep breath, once again swayed.

  Jimmy reached out. “Careful, honey. Let me help. We’ll get you some water, a place to sit down. Maybe we’d better get a doctor.”

  Sophia pushed his hand away. She didn’t look at him. Her words were swift. “Don’t touch me.”

  Jimmy stiffened. Slowly his hand dropped. He looked at her uncertainly. “Are you in pain?”

  I was on the landing, a few feet away. The Riordans clustered uneasily near me. Evelyn was breathing in quick gulps as if she could not get enough air. Rosie curved a supporting arm around her shoulders. Val’s face was unreadable, neither shocked nor concerned. She might have been watching a film that held no interest for her. Madge opened and shut the clasp of her linen purse, her bright eyes never leaving Sophia. Alex wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. Kent’s frown was dark and intense.

  I wondered which of them had pushed Sophia.

  Sophia took a deep breath, waved away the security guard. “No harm done.” She nodded peremptorily at the guide. “I should like to return to the ship immediately.”

  That answered one question. There was to be no dinner of reconciliation this evening at the Grand Hotel Europe.

  Sophia moved slowly, stiffly up the steps. She stopped opposite the clutch of Riordans, gazed at them dispassionately. “Dinner this evening is canceled. We shall return to the ship. I expect all of you”—her icy gaze included me—“to be present in my cabin at eight o’clock tonight.”

  I’d been in my cabin only long enough to wash my face and pour a tall tumbler of ice water when a vigorous knock sounded. I opened the door and was surprised to see a grim-faced Jimmy. I looked past him, but he was alone. “I thought you’d be with Sophia.”

  “I thought so too.” The words were quick, clipped. “She wanted to be alone. She told me to go away, insisted I leave.”

  I stood aside for him to enter. He walked to my small sofa, flung himself down. I perched at the end of the bed.

  Jimmy frowned. “Sophia and I have to talk. I understand why she didn’t say anything at the museum. She couldn’t prove she’d been pushed, and getting Russian officials involved would have been a mess. When we got back and I tried to talk to her about it, it was like clawing on a rock. I can’t get her attention. I guess she’s in shock. But this afternoon proves I’m right. One of the Riordans pushed her.”

  Jimmy had to know about Kent. “Jimmy, I didn’t have a chance to tell you this morning. Kent is furious with Sophia.”

  Jimmy looked weary. “You’d think he’d get over it. That’s history.”

  I shook my head. “Not history. Not yet.” I told him what Margaret had unearthed, the whole sad tale of Heather and Sophia and the check.

  He listened gravely. “Sophia lied to the girl?”

  I spread my hands. “I imagine Sophia put it smoothly, said she was authorized to give Heather a generous check and surely Heather understood that she and Kent weren’t well suited. That’s all it would have taken.”

  Jimmy scowled. “Sophia shouldn’t have done that, but I blame Frank. He put Sophia in an impossible situation. She feels she has to do what she thinks Frank wanted and Frank would have been
absolutely opposed to Kent marrying a girl from Heather’s background.”

  “I can see that Sophia thought she was protecting Kent.” Here I went, once again defending her.

  Jimmy frowned, his thoughts obviously unpleasant. “Talk about raw passion! Val is clearly overwrought about the anniversary of Vic’s death. Now all this surfaces about Sophia and Heather.”

  “I’m sorry.” I had to take responsibility here.

  He almost managed a wry smile. “Hey, I set you on the trail. I wouldn’t expect you to ignore facts. Uncovering the truth is all to the good unless Kent pushed Sophia today. In any event, Sophia can’t ignore being shoved down stairs. It’s a miracle she’s alive. If that guy hadn’t reached up and got her…”

  Sophia’s rescue had been miraculous. She was the fortunate beneficiary of a superb athlete’s reflexes and strength. And smarts. He’d not only managed to catch her hurtling body, he’d had the wit and power to force himself forward and turn as he fell, protecting her from the sharp-edged steps. Sophia owed her life to a snail, to spilled sherry, and now to a strong and quick-thinking young athlete from Australia. Three times she’d cheated death.

  “Third time lucky.” I stared soberly at Jimmy.

  His eyes were haunted. “We have to protect her from another attempt. No one’s luck runs that far. I intend to make sure nothing else happens. Sophia’s upset now. But if she can’t face up to the danger, I’ll take charge. I’m going to find out what Evelyn knows. She can’t refuse to face facts any longer. I want a witness when I talk to her. Will you come?”

  Evelyn opened her cabin door a scant few inches. Her face was pale and drawn. Alarm flared in her eyes. “I thought it was the steward.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “I have a dreadful headache. How is Sophia?”

  “She’s sore. Upset. Scared.” Jimmy looked at her gravely. “It’s time for us to talk, Evelyn.”

  She made a fluttery gesture of reluctance. “Not now, please. I don’t feel at all well. Such a frightening accident—”

  His voice was hard. “Not an accident.”

  Evelyn stiffened. “The landing was crowded, people everywhere, shoving and crowding.” She clutched a ruffle of her yellow sundress.

  Jimmy shook his head. “Sophia knows someone tried to kill her.”

  “It was an accident.” She reached up, clapped a hand to her face, turned away.

  We stepped inside and Jimmy closed the door. Evelyn collapsed onto the sofa. The mirror on the opposite wall reflected a demoralized woman.

  Jimmy sat on the side of the bed near the sofa. I took the straight chair from the desk, turned it to face her.

  “Sophia didn’t fall.” Jimmy looked at her steadily. “Help me, Evelyn.”

  “Of course.” She struggled to get up. “Does Sophia want me to come? I’ll be glad to stay with her, do what I can.”

  “I want information.” Jimmy sounded stern.

  Evelyn’s blue eyes widened. She said nothing, pressed her lips together in a thin line. The only movement in the small cabin was the ripple of the curtains from the breeze flowing in through the open balcony door.

  Jimmy’s look was imploring. “Who poisoned the sherry?”

  Evelyn clasped her hands together, made no reply. Her lips quivered. Her breathing was quick and jerky.

  “I’m asking you to help me save Sophia. But it isn’t only Sophia you will save.” His eyes never left her face. “You don’t want one of Frank’s children to be a murderer.”

  “No!” Evelyn’s cry was anguished. “It isn’t true. They wouldn’t do anything like that. Never.”

  Jimmy leaned forward. “Why did you knock down the tray? Why did you wash out the sherry bottle?”

  “It’s your fault.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “You went storming up the hillside like you were pursuing the devil, and then you came back and you wanted to know where everyone was when the boulder came down. I knew it couldn’t be true but it worried me and I kept thinking about it.”

  I felt this was nearly true, but it wasn’t all the truth. Something more than Jimmy’s fear triggered her own. Had Evelyn seen someone come down the hillside? Had one of the Riordans claimed to be in a particular spot at the time and Evelyn knew better?

  She pulled a wad of Kleenex from her pocket, wiped at her eyes. “You’ve got to understand, I’m sure now that the sherry was all right. I didn’t see anybody near it. I swear I didn’t. But when I saw you start up the stairs with the tray, I had this scared, awful feeling. I came down the steps and knocked the tray over. But the boulder could have been an accident. After I knocked the tray down and everything was such a mess, I emptied out the rest of the bottle and washed it. I shouldn’t have done it, but you’d made such a fuss about the boulder. I knocked the tray down on an impulse. I realize that was stupid. Now you think I saw someone tamper with it and I didn’t.”

  I did not believe her. She knew more than she would reveal. That was made clear by the desperate steadiness of her gaze, the tight clasp of her hands, the rigidity of her shoulders. We left her staring after us with frightened eyes.

  We were almost to the end of the corridor when Jimmy said bitterly, “I’d like to wring her neck. Maybe every word’s true about the sherry, but Evelyn knows something. Or guesses. Maybe she saw something in a face. Or overheard a conversation. Whatever it is, she’ll never tell us. I have to warn Sophia. She can’t trust any of them.”

  I wished for a sweater. The early evening air off the sea was chilly. Jimmy and I stood at the railing watching the lengthening shadows envelop St. Petersburg though the sun still hung on the horizon. We’d eaten in the informal dining room, a quick, somber meal. Twice he’d gone to their cabin. Each time Sophia sent him away, and he came back to me.

  He scowled. “Why won’t she talk to me?” He was irritated, impatient, uncertain.

  The Jimmy I knew was almost always equable, rarely discomfited. This was a different Jimmy, his eyes hurt, his voice brusque.

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t know how to answer. I wondered what he was thinking, what possibilities had occurred to him. The answer that I suspected would either shock him mightily or confirm his worst expectations. I hoped I was wrong. Sophia might simply be suffering from shock and trying to deal with fear on her own.

  Perhaps.

  I glanced at my watch. It was almost eight, time to go to Sophia’s suite. “Jimmy, I don’t think I should come this evening.”

  His frown was quick and intense. “Of course you should. Sophia needs everybody in her corner she can get. I think the three of us can get her safely home, but it’s going to take all of us working together. I’ve been looking ahead. The first thing to do is avoid being around any of the Riordans. That shouldn’t be too hard. I want her to talk to the staff captain. He’s second-in-command and he oversees security on the ship. Staff Captain Gerald Glenn.” Jimmy’s face suddenly looked younger, stronger, less burdened. Action was an antidote to fear. “Let’s go. I’ve got a lot to tell Sophia. It’s time she listened.”

  15

  There were two doors in the corridor at the stern of Deck 6, Suites 6088 and 6091. Jimmy used his electronic card at the near door. We stepped into 6088 and I caught my breath at the view through the plate-glass windows of the balcony. The sliding door was open. The balcony, perhaps three times larger than mine, overlooked the Neva river, which was streaked with crimson from the setting sun. On the opposite bank the golden stone of Menshikov Palace was bathed in a red glow.

  We were in a living room with the bedroom to the right. The furnishings included a blue damask sofa, two rust-colored armchairs, and a round wooden table with four straight chairs. The amber and blue design of the Oriental rug was repeated in the heavy drapes at the windows.

  Sophia and a ship’s officer stood near a wet bar. Sophia’s crisp linen dress was dramatic, the white bateau top a sharp contrast to the black skirt. Golden ringlets framed a pale face. She looked regal. A jet necklace and bracelet accented the skirt. The offi
cer stood with his feet apart in a white uniform crisp as a starched shirt. He was compactly built, perhaps five-ten with short-cut black hair, dark blue eyes, bony nose, and pointed chin. His thin, intense face held no expression.

  Jimmy crossed to them, held out his hand to the officer. “Jimmy Lennox.”

  “Staff Captain Glenn.” The officer’s tone was noncommittal, as if he reserved judgment. He shook Jimmy’s hand, but his glance was appraising.

  “Staff Captain Glenn.” Jimmy’s smile was pure relief. He turned to his wife. “Sophia, thank God. Have you told him everything?”

  Her gaze was distant, her expression remote. “We’ve talked. I’ll make everything clear when the others arrive.”

  “Great.” Jimmy clapped his hands together. “This is exactly what I wanted you to do. Staff Captain Glenn, this is Henrietta Collins, an old friend. As Sophia has probably told you, Henrie O’s with us to help protect Sophia.”

  Glenn nodded. If the man had a smile in his repertoire, he was keeping it under wraps.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  Jimmy swung around, took two strides, opened the door, held it wide.

  The Riordans clustered in the hallway. Evelyn was the first to enter. She’d changed from the wrinkled yellow sundress into a summery and cheerful cornflower blue V-neck silk blouse and a swirling skirt with huge white polka dots against a matching blue background. I suspected the stylish outfit had been a gift from Rosie. Despite her untidy red curls, Evelyn might have been the picture of holiday fashion except for her staring blue eyes and anxious face. Rosie was gorgeous in a bright pink cotton top and white cropped pants with a twining red rose design. Coppery hair glistening in a streak of sunlight, she swung into the room as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Val moved sedately. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek knot, emphasizing her fine bone structure. She had the fixed look of a mannequin on a runway. Her herbal green linen tunic and cropped green linen trousers were decorated with an occasional modest daisy. The dark circles beneath her eyes were the only hint of a whiskey-drenched night. Alex was scrawny in a too-big blue polo. White shorts hit him mid-knee. He stepped inside with a reluctant frown. Madge was beautifully dressed in a pink floral embroidered sheath, perfect for her ice blond hair and fair complexion. Her bright blue eyes darted to Staff Captain Glenn, her gaze wary.