“Ladies, shall we get out of the cold?” Ian said gallantly as he ushered them towards the door.
Claire realized how chilled she was. She couldn’t stop shivering. Her mother noticed. “Claire, we need to get you warmed up. It’s the shock from getting pushed over, I imagine. You could use a cup of tea, or hot chocolate.”
“Chocolate? Funny you should mention that.” Ruth caught the last word of Millie’s sentence as they joined the group again. “The Chocolate Decadence Midnight Buffet just opened. I think we should take a look before bedtime, don’t you?”
Claire had heard about the nightly buffets, but had yet to see one. They never finished dinner until ten and then she was too full to even think of more food. But the thought of hot chocolate was very tempting. She agreed tonight might be just the night to check it out.
Ian and Sean were happy to escort the three ladies to the dining room where the chocolate extravaganza was laid out. They found a table and sat tasting plates of chocolate goodies while Claire sipped her hot chocolate, and they all discussed the irony of Mrs. Bernbaum’s passing. They were shocked and grieved, but philosophical. Everyone but Claire was of an age where they were experiencing an increasing number of deaths among their friends and colleagues. It had to be accepted. There was no alternative.
Sean said it best. “I’m sorry it happened so suddenly and that Claire and Ian had the shock of finding her. But I’m so glad it was after she had the satisfaction of completing her life quest. She was quite a gal and a great addition to our table.”
The others nodded solemnly and Ian said quietly, “That she was.”
The hot chocolate was working. Claire no longer felt cold. Now she just felt very sleepy. She caught Ian’s surreptitious glance her way as if he was checking on her. She noticed how he was sticking close to her. Perhaps he was worried about what she might say if he wasn’t close enough to keep tabs on her. Actually, it was lucky he had been following her, because his arrival on deck when Richard was being so irrational proved to be provident. She hadn’t thought of Richard as a violent man, but she didn’t want to let him get his hands on her mother. He had been way too angry for some reason she didn’t understand.
“Dear, maybe you should go down to bed.”
“Yes, mother.” Always the obedient little girl, Claire now was happy to follow her mother’s suggestion and quickly headed for the elevator. This time she noticed that Ian didn’t follow her.
* * *
The knock was muffled so as to not disturb the neighboring cabins, but the quick rat-a-tat-tat conveyed his urgency. He had to repeat it several times and just when he decided to go to his cabin and call her, the door opened.
“It’s the middle of the night, are you crazy?” She didn’t sound very welcoming, but he entered her cabin and trudged over and sat on the edge of her bed, his shoulders slumped with depression.
She turned on the light, then seemed to notice how he looked.
“What’s wrong? Why are you here so late?” she queried, acting a little warmer.
“Shit, everything’s wrong. And I’m here so late because I just got through with all the paperwork.”
“What happened?” Her concern was mounting; he was always confident, in charge. She didn’t know him acting like this.
“First I decided I’d better get rid of the syringe and bottle. You kept talking about evidence and I started to worry about what would happen if someone found it. You know, in case someone searched; in case someone became suspicious. So I decided to just dump it overboard. I thought that would be the safest way to get rid of it. Well, it wasn’t. I went out on deck and found a secluded place. I had it over the side. I let it go.” He looked at her with disbelief. “And Millie Gulliver just appeared out of nowhere and snatched it out of midair. I was so shocked I just stood there while she went on and on about how plastic kills the porpoises, or some such drivel.
“Then I just lost it. I got so mad, I swear, I would have dumped the sanctimonious old biddy over the side with the bag she was holding if her prissy daughter hadn’t gotten in my way.”
Kim was bending toward him, breathlessly waiting to hear what happened next.
“She’s stronger than she looks and it was hard to shove her out of my way. But then before I could even get to Millie, Ian showed up. Do you remember, I pointed him out to you? He’s one of the guys at our table, and he’s big, and man, he’s strong, even if he is old. He just held on to me and I was really struggling. I was so mad, you see. Anyway, I finally calmed down enough to hear what he was saying. It seems that he and Claire had stopped by to see my aunt and found her dead. Of all the rotten luck!
“I had to pretend I was shocked. Actually, I was shocked because I expected Jorges, Auntie’s steward, to find her in the morning when he delivered her breakfast.
“And of course that’s what would have happened if that nosy Claire hadn’t interfered.” He took a deep breath, then another in an attempt to calm himself.
“Well anyway, I had to play the part of the grieving nephew and go down to security and then the morgue. The doctor had a million questions for me, but I don’t think she has any suspicions.”
“What happened to the stuff you were throwing overboard?” Kim really was a sharp woman. She kept her mind on the issues that were important.
He shrugged. “I had to leave it there. Millie said she would throw it in a trash receptacle where it wouldn’t hurt the porpoises.” He said the last words in a prissy tone, as if imitating Millie. “I just hope she did,” he said grimly. “And I hope she didn’t poke her nose into the bag to check what was in it before throwing it away.”
“So it’s still here, on board the ship?”
He nodded. “They hold all the trash until they reach port and then off-load it. If anyone wanted to search, they could find it.”
“Hell. That meddling old bitch. You should have pitched her overboard,” Kim told him, and she acted as if she meant it.
“What are you going to do now?”
“Somehow I need to get that bag back, or at least find out if she saw what was in it before she dumped it.”
“And if she did see what it was?”
“Then, I think, Kim, we’ll just have to see that Millie has a tragic accident and disappears.”
* * *
After breakfast, Claire, Millie and Ruth all went by the library to pick up the little news sheet, a brief recap of world events and the New York Times crossword puzzle. They sat for a while working the puzzle before Claire decided to give up on hers. “I’m going down to do my emails and I’ll meet you both later at Bingo. Save me a seat.” The ladies nodded distractedly. Both were intent on the last few clues.
The computer room was empty this morning, so Claire selected a computer near the back, overlooking the water. It amused her that the room was situated on the side of the ship along a great expanse of windows. It was as if the cruise line didn’t want anyone to forget for one minute they were at sea.
She sat down carefully on the little chair, remembering painfully, the bruise she had discovered in the shower this morning thanks to her collision with the deck chairs last night. She didn’t bother to mention it to her mother, thinking it was best just to forget the whole incident. She was surprised at the number of accumulated messages she had in spite of the fact she had responded to all she had pending only yesterday. It seemed that her promptness only spurred more messages. She finally arrived at the one she was waiting for from Mrs. B, her assistant manager at the shop. There had been a question about a big order that came in and she had asked Mrs. B to check some figures for her. And here they were. She looked around the work station for a pen with no success. She picked up her tote bag from the floor near her feet to get the one she carried with her and found the bag of trash Richard had tried to dump overboard. She had completely forgotten about it. She pulled it out of her tote bag meaning to toss it in the trash as she had promised. But she couldn’t help wondering what it was he so urgently
had to discard that he selected the ocean rather than search for a trash barrel.
Naturally she opened the bag to look inside. She put her hand in to move some paper out of the way. “Ouch. Damn.” She withdrew her hand quickly and after close examination of her finger concluded the skin hadn’t been broken. She shook the bag a bit, so now she could see it contained a syringe and a small bottle. No wonder he didn’t want to throw it in a trash can, someone could jab themselves with the syringe. She studied the bottle’s label intently, wondering if it was the vitamin cocktail he used on Mrs. Bernbaum. Since she was sitting in front of a computer she clicked on a search engine and simply typed in the name on the label. She studied the choices and selected one which offered an encyclopedia of medical information.
“Potassium Chloride, Uses,” she read. “Potassium chloride is used for making fertilizer by stimulating growth. It is used as a chemical feedstock for the manufacture of potassium hydroxide and potassium metal. It is also used in medicine, scientific applications, food processing and in judicial execution through lethal injection.”
Judicial execution! She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stiffen. Lethal injection? She held her finger up and looked at it again. She was assured once again that the skin had not been broken. It seemed likely the syringe and the bottle were together in the bag because the syringe had contained the contents of the bottle and she certainly didn’t want something used for lethal injections inadvertently poked in her finger. Her heart began to race as that last thought, something used for lethal injections, replayed itself loudly in her mind. Could that be the reason why Richard was trying to dump these items overboard?
Suddenly it was hard to catch her breath. She forced herself to remain seated, to be calm and think about this. She told herself she was jumping to conclusions. She was acting as if life was like a CSI episode on television. She breathed deeply in and out, forcing herself to calm down.
She reminded herself how much Mrs. Bernbaum loved Richard. And it was obvious to all of them that he doted on his aunt. So why did she immediately think the worse when she saw those words on the computer? That’s when she remembered Mrs. Bernbaum only met Richard about six months ago, when he came from Florida to search for his lost relatives. What did Mrs. Bernbaum really know about her nephew? So she typed Dr. Richard Walmer in quotation marks and Googled him.
Her eyes widened in surprise at the long list of hits appearing on the screen in front of her. She clicked on one from the Miami Herald.
Longevity Physician Released, authorities drop criminal charges. Dr. Richard Walmer went free this morning after authorities admitted they did not have enough evidence to charge him. Dr. Walmer, senior associate of Life of Joy, Medical Association, was arrested Thursday on suspicion of second degree murder when his patient, Alma Myerson, died of unknown causes. Mrs. Myerson’s children reported their mother had been a patient of Dr. Walmer’s for about six months. They said Dr. Walmer was treating their mother with vitamin therapy designed to counteract the ravages of age. They had pleaded with their mother to stop what they thought was dangerous therapy to no avail. They charged Dr. Walmer with wantonly endangering their mother’s life with unproven and untested methods of vitamin injections. Theodore Myerson, Alma Myerson’s eldest child, reported he and his siblings will now seek damages against Dr. Walmer in civil courts, saying, “He must be stopped before he kills more old people.”
Dr. Walmer says his vitamin cocktails are safe and healthy. They have been used extensively on members of the elderly community to heighten seniors’ abilities to live to their full potential in the latter years of their lives. He said Mrs. Myerson’s unfortunate demise was not due to the vitamin therapy, rather to the natural progression of life and its ending.
“Oh, my God!” Claire muttered softly. “I can’t believe this.” She remembered Richard, or was it Mrs. Bernbaum, said he had left his practice in Florida and was seeking a new practice in the San Francisco area. Now she knew why.
She signed off the computer and gathered up her things and went to find a phone. She needed to report this to the security department. But when she called them they were very reluctant to tell her where they were located. Seemingly they considered security and secrecy to be synonymous. Finally she convinced them she had to talk to them privately and did not want to meet in her cabin or in any other of the public places on board, only then was she given directions to their office.
* * *
“So, basically, you’re not going to do anything?” She was incredulous.
“Well, not exactly. We’ll keep our eye on him. And when we dock in San Francisco we’ll turn this and all our notes over to the San Francisco Police. We’ve already notified them we have a suspicious death, although our own physician, Dr. Carolton, thinks it’s most likely natural causes due to her advanced age,” Larry Smithston, the Director of Security on board, assured Claire. She felt, however, he wasn’t taking her concerns seriously. The look in his eyes told her all too clearly he thought she was a nuisance. That hurt. She wasn’t used to treatment like this. She had enjoyed the privilege of having her opinions valued, first by her family friend, Captain Sean Dixon, in the San Francisco Police Department and later by Jack Rallins and his associates in various law enforcement agencies. And truthfully, her opinions and theories had proven to be valuable, several times. Now here she was being humored.
She tried once more to convince him, but clearly exasperated he told her, “Ms. Gulliver, I understand your concern, but truly, we act on evidence. And that is somewhat sketchy in this situation. I will hand these items over to the investigating body, which is the SFPD, and we will watch Dr. Walmer carefully during the remaining days of the cruise. But frankly, there doesn’t seem to be any reason to incarcerate him. I don’t see any immediate danger from him. And we know he won’t be going any where in the next two days. Therefore, he will be available when and if we need to talk to him. So I’m asking you to forget about this and enjoy the rest of your cruise. Trust me, we, and the SFPD, will take care of this situation.” He forced a smile, then standing up he indicated the interview was over.
But in the elevator going up to the main decks Claire’s anger got the better of her. She pushed the button for the deck where the computer room was located. She wasn’t going to just let this go. Richard was out of control last night when he pushed her. How did she know he wouldn’t get that way again? She had her own resources and she intended to use them.
After she sent a long email to Sean Dixon at the SFPD with the whole story and including links to the websites with the description of the potassium chloride and the article in the Miami Herald, she glanced at her watch and realized she had totally missed Bingo. She decided she had better go find her mother and see if anyone won. And she was going to quietly alert her mother to Richard’s past. It would be prudent to stay away from the man.
“Hey Ruth, did you win?” Then looking around, “Where’s Mom?”
“No I didn’t win, nor did anyone we know. I didn’t even come close to the big one.” During every session of Bingo they played one game to fill all the squares in a certain number of pulls; if someone won, they would receive the huge jackpot which had been accumulating since the beginning of the cruise. The last Bingo game would pay out the jackpot, no matter how many balls were pulled.
“And your mother went down to Mrs. Bernbaum’s cabin to help Richard pick out an outfit for her to be buried in.”
Claire felt the blood drain from her head at that news. “Mom..., Mom went to help Richard?”
“Yes, he came to apologize for his behavior last night. Then he looked so sad, and he was so totally at a loss to know what to get for the funeral. You know your mother, she insisted she go help him select an outfit for the wake.”
Claire’s brain was spinning frantically. Her first impulse was to call security for help. But then she realized that wouldn’t work. They didn’t think Richard was a danger.
“How long ago did she leave?”
>
“Just a while ago, maybe ten minutes at the most. Why? Do you need something?”
She shook her head, realizing it wouldn’t do any good to get Ruth all concerned.
“You haven’t seen Ian anywhere around have you?” she asked, perhaps a shade too urgently, because now Ruth was watching her carefully.
“Why, yes. I saw him in the casino a while ago.”
“Ruth, can you find Ian and tell him I need him in Mrs. Bernbaum’s cabin, right away. And tell him to hurry.”
Ruth had already risen. “What is it Claire? What’s wrong?”
“I’ll tell you later. Just find Ian. Fast. Okay?” And she hurried to the elevator. Then not wanting to wait for it to arrive she took the stairs down the two flights to the eighth deck.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Millie knocked on the door, thinking how easy it was to believe Mrs. Bernbaum was still here. But Richard’s sober expression when he opened the door and gestured her into the cabin didn’t allow her to continue that pretense.
She tried to be positive. “Well, Richard, it looks like you’re making progress here.” She nodded toward the two suitcases sitting near the door.
“Mostly thanks to my friend, Kim.”
Millie turned to see the beautiful blonde emerge from the bedroom. She smiled at her in answer to Richard’s introduction. “How nice of you to help, Kim. I’m sure Richard appreciates it. This is a painful task. Believe me, I know.”
Kim nodded and then went to a tray of coffee things sitting on the table, saying, “Would you like a cup? It’s time for us to take a break and this was just delivered, so it’s fresh.”
Millie didn’t really want any more coffee, but saw they wanted a break, so she nodded, accepted a cup and sat on the sofa while Kim poured for Richard and herself. “Millie, I just wanted to apologize once more for my boorish behavior last night. It was so very kind of you and Claire to come to tell me about Auntie Flo, and then I don’t know what happened to me. I just lost it.”
Claire Gulliver #04 - Cruisin' for a Bruisin' Page 21
