by Mike Befeler
How could I clear my name if I couldn’t return to the ship? How could I survive overnight on this little clump of rocks and trees? How did I end up in this mess, anyway? For an old fart my age, you’d think I would have known better. Here I was on a relaxing honeymoon cruise, and all I’d done was find a dead body, been accused of pushing a woman over the side and now ended up marooned because a Latvian Mafioso had it in for me.
What kind of justice was that? I took another spin around my new home, looking for anything useful that might have floated up on the rocky beach. I found a clam shell, the remains of a cereal box and various drift sticks. I would need to start a fire. That would keep me warm at night and might attract attention. Too bad I didn’t smoke. Then I’d have matches. If I’d smoked, I probably wouldn’t have lasted this long anyway.
I regarded the highlands. Plenty of kindling. Where were my Boy Scout fire-starting skills when I needed them?
I scanned the ocean again. That one boat I’d seen earlier was still there. It seemed to be a little closer. I scrambled up on the grass that represented the highest section of my island and waved my arms.
The boat was too far away, I was sure, to see anything. Unless someone happened to be looking through binoculars at exactly the right moment. I continued to frantically gesture.
Then I spotted something shiny on the ground. I reached down and picked up a quarter. I turned it over. 1953. A good year. My first wife, Rhonda, and I took a trip up the coast from Los Angeles to San Francisco that year. We had a great meal at Fisherman’s Wharf. I wondered if that was the last time someone had visited this remote island.
Chapter 17
I pocketed the quarter. If I survived, I’d drop it in a slot machine at the ship’s casino to see if it was really a lucky quarter.
Then a disturbing thought struck me. If I fell asleep, my memory would do the Jacobson reset, and I’d remember nothing of Zarins or how I’d ended up here. I slapped my cheek. I’d have to stay awake.
A light breeze rippled past, kissing my cheeks with a reminder of a cold night to come. I zipped up my jacket all the way and paced around my small domain. I’d hate to be here if a storm passed through and waves started pummeling the island. Still, the trees and grass had survived so the island probably hadn’t been inundated with salt water. I could always climb a tree. I surveyed my forest and selected a strong tree in the highlands (five feet versus two feet above high tide) that I could scale a few feet if needed. At least there were no bears to escape from. I wondered if bears swam out to these little islands. That would be just great if some furry monster decided to visit and check me out for dinner. I had to get a grip.
Looking out in the water, I spotted no whales, but no sharks either. Just that one lonesome boat. It was getting closer. I did my waving routine again. I felt I should have a pair of pom-poms, and then I could do a cheerleader routine.
What the heck. I couldn’t remember squat, but my weird brain could still dredge up absurd images.
Maybe Shamu the whale would rescue me, and I could ride on his back to shore. Wherever the mainland was. I hadn’t paid attention exactly to the route we’d taken.
Crapola. Other tourists were out watching whales, and here I was, Robinson Crusoe of the Yukon.
Looking up again I could see the boat was actually pointed toward me. Maybe it would keep coming! I began waving frantically again. Then I had a thought. I unzipped my jacket, slipped it off, grabbed a sleeve and waved it in the air like one of those ribbon-dancing routines at the Olympics. I was competing in the survival Olympics.
I kept it up until my arm tired. The exercise helped, but I was getting cold, so I put the jacket back on. I could now make out a white Chris-Craft. My heart beat faster as I saw white water parting at the boat’s bow.
Someone on the boat must have seen me, as it headed smack toward me. Who would my rescuers be? I hoped they had a thermos of hot coffee.
I performed a few jumping jacks to stay warm and attract attention. That would be a sight. An eighty-five-year-old geezer doing jumping jacks. Still, I could move pretty well for an old fart even if I had a brain that held memories like the Maginot Line contained the Germans.
I could hear the boat’s engines cutting back, and it coasted near shore. I watched as a dingy was lowered. I felt a little dingy myself.
Then a man climbed into the dingy and rowed toward me. As he reached the pebbly beach, I noticed a Scandinavian Sea Line logo on his outfit and a head of flaming red hair. This could only be one person. Grudion.
“I’m damn glad to see you,” I said. “And I never thought I’d say that.”
“Here all alone, Mr. Jacobson?”
“Hell yes. I was kidnapped and left on this desolate place by Inese Zarins’s father. Did you realize she was the daughter of a Latvian gangster?”
Grudion blinked. “I’m obviously missing something here.”
“Let me explain. I planned to take a nice calm whale-watching tour. When I entered the zodiac, it shot off and I was the only tourist in the boat. The driver was someone named Valdis in the employ of a Mr. Zarins. Zarins questioned me about Inese’s murder. He had enough doubt that he didn’t kill me on the spot, but he left me on this deserted island.”
Grudion held his hand up. “Slow down. You’re saying this little side journey wasn’t something you planned?”
“No way. I was abducted.”
He regarded me thoughtfully. “Interesting. When we were following you, I wondered why you went off in a different direction from the other tourists. It took me a while to catch up to you.”
“And I’m glad you did.” Then a realization struck me. “We need to return to the ship ASAP. I told Zarins my suspicion regarding Gary and Gina Hargrave. They might be guilty as sin, but they also face danger from an irate father who has no qualms about killing people.”
He signaled me toward the dingy. “Yah, let’s head back to the ship. I’ll radio ahead to alert one of my people.”
I clambered in the tiny boat, and Grudion rowed us out to the Chris-Craft. I climbed the ladder with him following me. Once the dingy was raised, we took off.
Grudion picked up a microphone and started speaking in Swedish. He apparently didn’t want me to understand his conversation.
When he finished, he turned toward me. “I’m not sure I believe all of your story, but I’m not taking any chances.”
“You should also interrogate a waiter named Erik. He’s doubling as a spy for Zarins.”
“You’re full of fascinating information, Mr. Jacobson.”
“I aim to please. Does this help take me off the most-wanted list?”
“We’ll see. There are still more things to check out.”
“You do your investigation, and you’ll see that everything I’ve told you is accurate.”
* * * * *
Back in Ketchikan I thanked Grudion and headed up the gangplank to find my bride. She was lying in bed, reading the ship newsletter.
I sat down beside her. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better. I took some Tums and my stomach settled down, which is a good thing because tonight is the chocolate lovers’ feast.”
“What’s that?”
“At midnight the main dining room opens for a meal of every imaginable type of chocolate—cake, pie, ice cream, cookies, candy.”
“I’m up for that. After my adventure I have a big appetite.’
“Adventure? Did you see lots of whales?”
“No. I was kidnapped by Inese’s father.”
Marion put her hand to her mouth. “What happened?”
I recounted the saga of Paul Jacobson, kidnap and maroon victim.
Marion shook her head. “You certainly have a way of attracting peculiar people.”
“Except for you. You’re my one tie to reality.”
Marion sat up and gave me a hug. All was right in the universe.
Sort of.
I moseyed out and sat on the balcony to let my emoti
ons settle after the encounter with Karlis Zarins and the rescue from the tiny spit of sand and rock. I felt like a wet dish rag. I was getting too old to be cavorting around in zodiac boats, hob-nobbing with the criminal element and trying to figure out who did what to whom and why. Still I had to be thankful that I wouldn’t be spending the night on that pathetic excuse for an island. I sighed.
It must have been louder than I thought because Marion stuck her head out the balcony door. “What’s wrong, Paul?”
“Just contemplating my life, the universe and everything.”
“If you reach any conclusions, let me know.”
“You’ll be the first to hear any wisdom I might spout.”
She ducked back inside, and I returned my gaze to the hillside. I surveyed a gaggle of multi-story homes clumped together like cattle huddled in a storm. One dark green structure had a second-story porch facing the harbor. I spotted a man in a red flannel shirt standing there. I waved, but he must have been too far away to see me. He probably was sick and tired of huge cruise ships obstructing his view of the sound. How would I like living up here? This time of year would be fine, but I’d freeze my butt off in the winter. No thanks. I’d stick with the tourist routine for visiting Alaska and leave it at that. But the guy on the balcony didn’t have to deal with obsessive ship security officers and people dropping dead from weird murders. He could have been contemplating his salmon dinner and preparing to store wood for winter.
But enough of my reverie, I still had to figure out this whole piss pot full of unexplained events so Grudion wouldn’t lock me up and Zarins wouldn’t feed me to the whales.
I decided to call Andrew Black, so I re-entered the cabin and reached for the phone.
“Paul, it’s good to hear from you.”
“I’ll say. I almost ended up on a different kind of cruise.” I explained my recent exploits.
“You certainly find yourself in some strange predicaments.”
“That’s what my bride says as well. I have a favor to ask.”
He chuckled. “Here we go again. Okay, Paul, what is it?”
“Could you use your sources to check on this Zarins guy? I’d like to verify what I’m up against.”
“Sure. I’ll see what I can find. You and Marion want to meet us for dinner?”
“Provided I’m not turned into Latvian stew by then.”
* * * * *
When we arrived in the dining room, I asked if Erik was on duty.
The receptionist wrinkled her brow. “No. He didn’t show up tonight.”
“Is that unusual that a waiter misses without notifying anyone?”
She twitched and looked over her shoulder. “All I know is that he isn’t here.”
Uh-oh. Either Erik had jumped ship like a fleeing rat or Zarins had taken out his displeasure on one of his minions.
Andrew and Helen appeared, and we were seated at a cozy table for four with a view out the stern. The ship was cruising at full speed at dusk as we had a long way to go to reach our next destination, Victoria, as my own personal cruise director, Marion, had informed me. Good thing she read the ship’s news and had a solid memory.
We were handed sparkling white cloth napkins by a skinny waiter with a thin moustache who reminded me of a bulimic Errol Flynn. He did a little trick of spinning a plate on the back end of a fork, we all applauded, and he bowed. After I had ordered a shrimp cocktail, clam chowder and sea bass, I felt I had wrought revenge on the ocean I had been stranded in.
Andrew cleared his throat. “Paul, I have some disconcerting news for you.”
The beat of my old ticker raised a notch.
“You going to let me know why I haven’t seen any whales?”
“No. But I have a rundown on one Karlis Zarins.”
“My new mafia buddy. I’m expecting the worst, so fire away.”
He toyed with a corner of the tablecloth and then looked up, wrinkles lining his forehead. “The man is evil and dangerous.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know. Give me the background.”
“He was raised in Russia and immigrated to Latvia after the communist breakup. He is the leading crime lord in Latvia, reported to have personally killed a dozen men.”
“At least it’s not thirteen.”
Andrew frowned. “I’m not sure you realize how serious this is.”
I shuddered, thinking back to standing with Zarins on the deserted Alaskan island. “I’ve seen the man’s eyes. I know what he is. I guess I’m lucky to still be breathing. He had no qualms about leaving me to freeze my butt off on that little spit of rock, so it wouldn’t have been any skin off his back to kill me instead.”
“I’m sure Grudion already did this as well, but I alerted Interpol that he has been seen in Alaska and might show up in Victoria tomorrow.”
“Are the Mounted Police ready to track him down?”
“Yes. Zarins is suspected of eliminating two Canadian nationals. He probably has traveled on to Victoria. I’m expecting that he will make some move when we dock there tomorrow. Unless he found a way to sneak aboard our ship.”
That didn’t give me a comfortable feeling. “How could he accomplish that with Grudion’s security system?”
“He’d have to obtain a stolen ID and doctor it somehow. I’m sure he’s an expert at that sort of subterfuge.”
“I’d hate to think he’s skulking around the ship.”
“You shouldn’t have too much to worry about. Gary and Gina are the ones who will have a problem.”
“And they don’t even know he exists. I wonder if I should warn them or let it play out. I still think one or both of them could be murderers.”
“Fit right in with Zarins, eh?”
“You sound so Canadian, Andrew.”
He shrugged. “I have to prepare for visiting Victoria tomorrow.”
Helen said, “Someone should alert the security office that Zarins might be on the ship.”
“I think I’ve worn out my welcome with Grudion,” Andrew said. “He knows I’m your friend, Paul.”
“I suppose it’s my responsibility,” I said, “although every time I speak with him I feel like a San Quentin escapee. Still, he may be more interested in what I have to say after our little boat trip together this afternoon.”
“He’ll eventually come around,” Marion said, giving my arm a squeeze. “So tomorrow should be an interesting day. We have Zarins, Gina and Gary, Erik possibly in hiding, Grudion and various law enforcement officers converging on peaceful Victoria.”
“Paul, you may want to consider staying on the ship,” Helen said.
“No way. I want to see this all out. Besides, my bride told me this afternoon that she’s looking forward to seeing the Butchart Gardens.”
Andrew placed a hand on my arm. “Just be careful. You’re dealing with a very dangerous man.”
“Whoever killed Inese has more to worry about than I do.”
* * * * *
Once I had demolished my ocean feast plus a fruit tart, I asked what was on the agenda for the evening.
“The song and dance troop members are putting on a performance,” Helen said.
“How are you feeling?” I asked Marion.
“I’m fine and would like to see the show. Then, of course, there’s the chocolate feast later.”
“I’ll be ready for that,” I said. “But first I better have a little chat with my favorite security officer.”
“Let’s stop by the casino,” Marion said with a glint in her eyes. “I haven’t won anything yet today.”
“I’m for that,” Helen replied. “You gentlemen want to accompany us?”
“You go ahead, Andrew. I’m going to stop in the little boys’ room and then call Grudion.”
They took off, the ladies moving so fast that I thought Zarins was on their tails. I shook my head. That bride of mine sure liked to play the slots.
I entered the powder room and did my business, thankful that for an old fart my plu
mbing still worked as it was supposed to. As I washed my hands I saw the door open. I flinched, thinking of Zarins but then was relieved, for the second time in five minutes. It was Grudion entering.
“Following me again, Mr. Grudion?”
He smiled. “Yah, I wanted to make sure you didn’t get flushed away.”
“Nah. My face doesn’t even flush when someone tells a dirty joke, but I will be flush when my bride wins in the casino, probably having a royal flush.”
He stared at me like I was a whale turd.
“Okay. You don’t appreciate my warped sense of humor. I do have something I want to mention to you. At dinner we were speculating in regard to one Latvian criminal named Karlis Zarins and came up with the hypothesis that he might be on the ship.”
“Impossible. Our security system wouldn’t allow it.”
I wagged a finger at him. “Don’t get too cocky. Someone like Zarins probably has a lot of resources at his disposal. I wouldn’t put it past him to find a way to compromise the system and invade your little boat.”
“Ship.”
At first I thought he had made an expletive but then realized it was just his accent. “So my friends and I want to make sure you watch out for him here as well as in Victoria tomorrow. Have you spoken with Gary and Gina Hargrave?”
“Yes. They continue to claim they had nothing to do with Inese Zarins’s death or the disappearance of their aunt.”
“But a good law enforcement type like you can see through that, right?”
He regarded me thoughtfully. “Just like you’re always protesting your innocence?”
“The difference being that I am innocent, at least of the crimes.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“An old fart like me is no longer innocent to the vagaries of personalities and the evil deeds possible from certain elements of humanity. Be prepared for Zarins and keep your eyes on Gary and Gina.”
With that I sauntered out of the bathroom and headed to the casino.
I found Andrew at a slot machine between the two ladies. They were cramming quarters in like they were feeding starving sharks. Andrew appeared to be like me. The machine happily ate his quarters without so much as a clink whereas on both sides of him the air was filled with the constant clanking of coins being returned.
