Ghost Ship

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by Roger Weston


  CHAPTER 4

  Sea-Tac Airport

  Seattle, Washington

  December 14

  Two days later, Jake walked off of a massive Air India airbus and gulped in the damp, cool sea air of Seattle. He drove across town to Portage Bay. Stepping onto the wooden deck that surrounded his houseboat, he smiled as it swayed under his feet. Opening the windowed door, he looked at the paintings of old ships that filled the walls. He picked his way through the stacks of maritime history books that were scattered across the floor. His extensive collection told the story of high-seas history and adventure during the twentieth century and covered survival stories since the beginning of time. He took the log books he’d recovered in Alang and put them in the old captain’s trunk he used as a coffee table.

  After checking his messages, his foot snagged on a stack of hardbacks and he stumbled as his ankle gave out. As he righted himself, he noticed the wind on Portage Bay whipping the water playfully. Across the channel below the college, he saw boats rocking in the marina. He looked at the chronometer on the wall and did a quick calculation. Ashley would be in the office for another hour. He lunged out the door and twirled the lines off the dock cleat. He jumped into his 16-foot skiff, fired up the outboard engine, and raced across the choppy bay.

  He found her in his office grading a stack of papers. Ashley had been raised in India by Irish parents, and she evoked memories of both countries with her flowing red hair and eyes the color of Kashmir sapphires. What Jake liked most about her was that she possessed a rare blend of intelligence and down-to-earth simple-mindedness. Her caution and attention to detail had not only served her well in academics and research, but they had kept Jake afloat as well.

  “Oh, not again,” she said. “What happened to you?”

  Jake gave her a brief rundown on why his face was black and blue and stitched up.

  “You’ve got to be more careful,” she said, giving him a soft hug.

  Jake looked around the office. Stacks of student papers and several paper coffee cups were scattered about.

  “What’d you do?” Jake said. “Pull another all-nighter? You need a vacation, maybe a five star hotel and a couple days on the beach.”

  “Don’t tease me. I need to stay focused.”

  “What you need is to get out of the office and live a little.”

  “If someone would quit piling papers on me, I might have a chance to get away, but I can’t afford a vacation anyway.”

  “Sorry to hear that. I’m going to Long Beach, California for a few days on the beach.”

  She glared at him. “I’m so glad you came by. Thanks for making me pity myself.”

  “Why pity yourself? You’re coming along.”

  She brushed her red hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “You’re so funny. Can I get back to work now? I’d like to get home before midnight.”

  Jake grabbed a paperback off the bookshelf and glanced at the classic tramp ship on the cover. “Charles Richter is flying us down to Long Beach.” He put away the paperback and looked in Ashley’s brilliant eyes.

  “Right.” She held his gaze for a moment then looked back down at the pile on her desk. “Why do you assign your students so many papers?”

  Jake was quiet for a moment. “He said I’m giving the commemorative speech at the Queen Mary’s final send off, and he’s flying both of us down there early. Everything is covered—airfare, five star hotel, food, entertainment.”

  “For both of us?”

  “He insisted that you come along.”

  “Me?” Her scarlet lips showed just a hint of a smile. “And what does he expect me to do?”

  “Not much. Just relax and have a good time. Of course, you’ll need to work on your tan.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “I am.”

  She pushed the papers off the desk and cast Jake a joyful gaze. “Yes!”

  Leaning back in her chair, her smile faded. “Why would he include me? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Come on, you need to learn to relax and have fun. I’m their keynote speaker.”

  “All expenses are paid for both of us?”

  “When a speaker is hot, he gets first-class treatment.”

  “But you speak for free. Why would he spend so much on you?”

  “Who knows and who cares? The guy is a billionaire.”

  “Wait a minute,” Her lips snapped into a tight line. “I thought it was the City of Long Beach that was hiring you.”

  “It is, but Richter’s the buyer, so he wants to get involved.” Jake paused. “Sunshine, beach, harbor—a free vacation. You deserve it.”

  “I’m not sure I should go.” She glanced at the papers strewn around. “I’ve got too much work to do. I’ll never get caught up on my research if I don’t get through these.”

  “You really don’t know how to have fun, do you?”

  Ashley pictured how it would feel to lay on the beach absorbing the warmth of the sun. Ever since she’d moved to Seattle she’d forgotten what that felt like. If she wasn’t careful though, she would get sun-burned, but she was always careful, and she deserved a vacation.

  But one question kept nagging at her: Why would Richter go to so much trouble and expense to send her and Jake to LA? Jake was an unknown speaker and luxury liners weren’t even his specialty. She really needed to stop analyzing everything to death. Billionaires did things like this. No big deal.

  It was just that inconsistencies like this drove her crazy. No. Ashley smiled. Jake was right. She needed to learn to relax, and that’s exactly what she was going to do.

  CHAPTER 5

  Richter 1st Building

  Friday, December 16

  8:55 am

  As Charles Richter rose from his chair and walked to the window, his thousand-dollar elephant-skin shoes clacked on the marble floor. His office was on the top floor of the tallest building in Long Beach and had a panoramic view of both the ocean and the city. Below him, the incomparable Queen Mary floated in her berth. Charles smiled. She was a lovely sight, indeed, resting dead still in the sun-bathed waters that glittered like a sea of fire.

  Back in the summer of 1967, the city of Long Beach outbid Japanese scrap merchants and paid $3.45 million to Cunard Lines of Great Britain for the luxury liner. By December of that same year the Queen was on her way to Long Beach to begin the last chapter in her long and lustrous history. The city of Long Beach gutted her and converted her cabins into hotel rooms in the hope that the old ship would draw tourists to their city, which was enviably located between Hollywood and Disneyland. There were a lot of tourists floating around, and Long Beach wanted to snare some of their cash. Charles couldn’t blame them—for that.

  But now the Queen Mary was his…his to do what he wanted with. She was perfect. She had been named after a true queen, Mary of Teck. Most people didn’t know that May, as her family liked to call her, was of German descent. She was princess of the Kingdom of Württemberg. Charles was sure that she would’ve cared about what he had planned for the Queen Mary. Of course she would.

  Just looking at the great luxury liner, Richter felt tears well up in his eyes, and he thought of her regal past. Built in 1928 she was nearly twice the size of the Titanic and was renowned for her glamour. She was known for setting numerous speed records among other firsts and bests for luxury passenger liners. She was one of the most celebrated ships in the world, an icon of power, ingenuity, and excellence. She was also the most photographed ship of all time, and her exploits had inspired books and even a blockbuster movie. Charles thought about all of this and of those who had been transported safely to their chosen destination by the Queen.

  Charles blinked tears away as he walked to his desk. He looked at the press release that sat on top of his ink blotter. The Long Beach City Council had faxed it to him and a hundred media outlets just a few days ago. The headline read, “Say Good-Bye to the Queen.”

  Three years ago, due to her long history of red in
k, the city council shut down the hotel and voted to sell the famous ship. Charles Richter had faced several other bidders, and he offered twice what the closest one was willing to pay. There was no way he was going to lose this opportunity. Some of his competitors said he’d lost touch and was making the biggest mistake of his life. One said the Queen Mary would be a financial Titanic. The Wall Street Journal ran a piece called, “Folly of a Tycoon.” Everybody wondered what he planned to do with the ship. The idea of buying such an old, unseaworthy vessel made little sense to anyone, and one of the biggest tabloids even suggested that Richter had become unhinged much like the eccentric Howard Hughes.

  One magazine claimed that Richter was superstitious and attracted to the Queen Mary because of her reputation as a haunted ship.

  Richter was not influenced by all the speculation. The ship was exactly what he needed. She was one of the most celebrated ships in history, she was similar in design to the Wilhelm Gustlolf, and she would be ready to sail well ahead of the January 30th deadline. He glared down at the Scorpion, the Russian submarine that some fool decided to showcase alongside the great cruise liner. What irony. Richter’s musings were interrupted by his speaker phone.

  CHAPTER 6

  Richter 1st Building

  Long Beach, California

  December 16

  9:10 a.m.

  Jake stepped into the top-floor office. Immediately, his gaze fell on the distant Queen Mary, visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

  For a moment Jake forgot where he was. The sound of shoes clicking on the floor and a man in an expensive cream color suit brought him back to attention. He was in the office of Charles Richter, one of the richest men in the America.

  “Welcome to Long Beach.” Charles thrust his hand forward and shook Jake’s vigorously. “What the hell happened to your face? Looks like you ran into a sledge hammer.”

  Jake touched the gash on his cheek. He’d nearly forgotten about his beating in Alang. “Oh, this. It’s nothing. Just ran into a little trouble on an old steamer waiting its turn on a scrap heap.”

  “I see. I’ve heard scrapping ships can be profitable. So, how was the flight down?”

  “Nice ride. Calmer than a crabber on the Bering Sea, that’s for sure.”

  “Once you fly on a Gulfstream, you won’t ever want to travel on a commercial plane again.”

  Jake recalled the flight. Ashley was having a hard time relaxing. She kept asking him why Richter would send the jet to pick them up. Did Jake have any idea the expense involved in a move like that?

  Richter’s eyes shifted to the view before them and he lifted his arms expansively towards the window.

  “She’s an amazing ship, isn’t she?”

  “The greatest of all time. Listen, I’m curious about something. Why’d you pick me to give this speech? There must be local historians who know more about the Queen Mary than I do.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. I’ve read some of your articles, Sands. For example, I liked the one you wrote for the Nautical News about that old shipwreck in the San Juans. I like how you focused on the big picture.”

  “Thank you, I—”

  Jake reflected on that particular piece. Wasn’t that the one he scribbled out at the last minute to meet his annual publication requirement for the university?

  “You’re a smart man, Sands. You don’t foolishly waste your time digging into arcane facts that serve no purpose except to clutter the mind. You don’t get bogged down in specifics. The big picture is what’s important. Men like us understand that simple concept, don’t we?”

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

  Richter gestured toward one of the sleek black leather chairs that flanked his desk. “Please, sit down. There is something I would like to discuss.” As Jake made himself comfortable, Richter continued: “I watched your speech at the Seattle Kiwanis club.”

  Jake cringed. Hadn’t he winged that one too? He remembered being so embarrassed. Half the guys in the crowd were probably descendents of the Norwegian fisherman from Ballard, and he couldn’t even remember the name of the Northstar.

  “I uh...I’ve found that after a speech, people come up and tell me things, gems of knowledge that have been passed around by good old-fashioned oral tradition. I learn more from those old guys than I could ever learn from traditional research.”

  “Well, you did a nice job. You told a few emotional and humorous stories, added in a little nostalgia, and left the audience with a memorable image. That’s exactly what I’d like you to do with your speech for the Queen Mary. Keep it brief. Also, emphasize that the tour will be limited to the Promenade deck.”

  “Tour?”

  “Yes, you will be leading a tour of the ship after your speech. The city of Long Beach has insisted that we give one last tour as a condition of the sale. However, I must reiterate. Everything except the Promenade deck is off limits. You got that?”

  “Sure, sure.”

  “Oh, and I’ve told the city of Long Beach that I will be coordinating all aspects of the farewell ceremony since the Queen Mary is now mine. I’m your contact person. Got that?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good. Now are there any shows you want to see while you are in town? How about a trip to Catalina Island? Whatever you want, I’ve got you covered. Let me know. Any questions?”

  “Yeah, why exactly did you buy the Queen Mary?”

  “I bought her because I see her potential. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you meet me at Santa Anita this evening so we can discuss this further. I have a winner running and don’t want to be late.”

  ***

  Ashley met Marilyn at Barry’s Bakery in Long Beach. Marilyn was a tall, lean brunette who was dressed in a business suit and a smile. Ashley was sure her smile was the sort that came with a bill. It was so bright that it must have used every megawatt of power the Imperial dam on the Colorado River could produce. Ashley also noticed that for a middle-aged woman the skin around Marilyn’s eyes and lips were unnaturally tight, but Ashley had to admit that Marilyn looked absolutely stunning. Ashley only hoped she looked as good when she got older, but she figured she would be content with what nature had planned for her. She wasn’t about to artificially enhance her looks with anything other than lean eating and clean living.

  After Marilyn introduced herself, she motioned for Ashley to sit down at a small table on the patio. Marilyn eased into a chair and laid a gem-studded purse on the table that looked like it was worth $70,000 or was an extremely well done knock-off. Unfortunately, Ashley suspected it was real and worth twice what she made in a year as Jake’s assistant.

  “How’s the hotel?” Marilyn asked.

  “It’s amazing,” Ashley said. “Beautiful.”

  “Wonderful, and the driver has been efficient?”

  “He’s great. Jake and I fight over who gets the Bentley.”

  Marilyn frowned for a moment; it was like the power went out in the city. “We’ll have to get you another car.”

  “Oh, no, that’s not necessary. I was exaggerating.”

  “Nonsense. I don’t know how I overlooked it. We don’t have another Bentley available, but we’ll send a limo over this afternoon so you’re both covered.”

  “Alright then. Send over the limo. I can get used to all this.”

  Marilyn smiled, and the power came back on in Long Beach. The whole affair seemed so routine. “I hope you do.”

  They ordered coffee and bagels, but Marilyn didn’t touch either of hers.

  “We’re very happy that Jake was available,” Marilyn said, sliding a manila envelope across the table. “This has information that can help him slant his speech. It’s got everything he’ll need to prepare.”

  “Oh, good,” Ashley said. “He’ll appreciate this.”

  “I’m sure. As you well know if you’ve been following the Queen Mary’s progress in the media, there’s a tremendous amount of money on the line here. The deal is worth tens of millions, an
d time is of the essence. We can’t risk any complications.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just that there are certain rules that we expect you and Jake to follow. First, the tabloids are likely to show up at the event. They’ll be looking for any dirt on Charles that they can find. You are absolutely forbidden from talking with the paparazzi.”

  “I’ve never met one before.”

  Marilyn glanced at her as if surprised to learn that such a thing was possible. Then she reached over and patted Ashley on the arm. “Then you’re lucky. Let’s keep it that way.”

  “What is Charles planning on doing with the Queen Mary?”

  “Who knows? What I do know is that Charles saw an opportunity and has a plan, and knowing Charles, his plan will be incredibly successful.”

  “I’m impressed that he can invest so much in her.”

  “That’s the old Queen, darling.” Marilyn’s phone must have vibrated because she checked the caller I.D. and stuffed the phone back into her gem-studded purse. “I have to run,” she said. “This is a big deal and we have to handle fires immediately to make sure that everything goes just as planned. There’s a lot of money at stake here. Charles is very demanding. He expects absolute cooperation from everyone on the team. Of course, you and Jake are team players, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. Read the packet carefully. The talking points will guide Jake in preparing his speech.”

  “Jake doesn’t need any help with his speeches, but I’m sure he’ll appreciate the packet.”

  The sun dimmed momentarily as though a cloud had passed in front of it. Marilyn wasn’t smiling anymore.

  “We wouldn’t have hired him if we didn’t expect as much. Just keep the narrative somewhat vanilla and along expected paths. The packet is the result of years of experience from marketing the Queen Mary to the public. We were very lucky to have it passed along to us. Pay extra close attention to the rule sheet. It mentions the rules that the public must follow when they tour the ship. Above all, they must stay on the designated deck. All other decks are off limits. Jake will need to announce that when he takes the stage. There will be a lot of people there, and the announcement is very important. We’ll have a large security force on hand, but Jake’s announcement will be a key part of the plan.”

 

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