Diamond in the Blue: D.I. Simpers Investigates

by Phil Kingsman

  'Sir, as you know, I am aware of your condition, but would ask that you do try to control its effects,' spluttered the Deputy Captain.

  The officer dabbed blood from his swelling nose with a pristine linen handkerchief handed to him by a defiant Amelia. Jonathan looked less confident as Amelia cradled him around his waist. She pulled the young man into her side, which the detective noted had an immediate calming effect on him. Simpers turned to his two table companions wearing a mischievous grin as a dejected Deputy Captain left the room.

  'If you don't mind me saying, that was a cracking dip of the head, Amelia. Your timing was spot on. It's a shame that meant the Deputy Captain caught Jonathan's hand full on, wasn't it.'

  'Now, Mr Simpers, you're such a mischievous man. Laughing at the Deputy Captain's misfortune like that is naughty. Anyway, after catching one of Jonathan's tics a couple of times, you soon learn to get out of the way. Isn't that right, Jonathan?'

  'Well, I can see from the grins on both your faces, you seem to have struck up quite a friendship.'

  'Do you know, Detective Inspector… I can call you Detective Inspector, can't I? The thing is, if this young man is OK with my little foibles, then I'm fine with his. Am I right, Jonathan?'

  The young man made direct eye contact with Amelia, said nothing, but smiled the widest smile.

  'What makes you think I'm a detective inspector?' asked Simpers.

  'Oh, don't look so nervous, you're amongst friends here. Mr Simpers, anyone with half a brain seeing the way you've behaved around those glass cases means you are about to steal them. Either that or your job is to stop them disappearing… yes?'

  'Amelia, yes, you are correct. But I must ask the two you keep this to yourself. For all I know, you two may be the villains of the piece,' replied Simpers. He allowed the lighter side of his personality to show through.

  'There, I told you last night that I was a bit of an amateur sleuth. All is well, Detective. Me and Jonathan here have decided to help you. After all, here's me, a batty old woman with a wooden doll. Then there's Jonathan, an uncouth youth with a loose tongue… and various other limbs. Who would suspect us of anything?'

  'Playing the clever fool, Amelia, can get you into all sorts of trouble. Please enjoy your holiday instead of playing catch the villain. That way you stay safe and enjoy the sun.'

  'Just so you know, Inspector, neither Jonathan nor me are that fond of the sun,' said Amelia.

  ***

  'Good to see you again, Mr Simpers. I do hope you had an interesting day. Young Jonathan here, and me, have had great fun. Now, I hope you're ready for a wonderful gala dinner. I must say you look most dapper in your dinner suit… though from the look on your face I suspect you're not the dressing up sort of man.'

  'I like the formal, Amelia, just not this formal,' he replied.

  'How did you get on in your hot tub earlier today, Jenny? Did your friends turn up?' said Simpers.

  'It was just delicious. All those bubbles do wonderful things for your bits, you know. And yes, they were a wonderful couple. In fact, we’re meeting them for after dinner drinks. I'm sure the evening will go with a swing. Have you ever tried it, Mr Simpers?'

  The look on Amelia and Jonathan's face matched Simpers'. Their interpretation of the woman's question, the same.

  'Well, er… I can't say I have and I'm not sure it would appeal. Too complicated if you ask me.'

  'I can't think for the life of me what's complicated about a whirlpool bath, Mr Simpers. What on earth are you thinking of?'

  Simpers knew exactly what the woman had been referring to. A fact confirmed by the mischievous grin plastered across the Smeeton's faces. Simpers glanced across to Jonathan and Amelia. It was clear they were well aware of the couple's approach to life in general, and open marriage in particular.

  For the next forty-five minutes, Simpers and his table companions ate their way through half a dozen courses. It was a celebration menu in recognition of the ship having completed its first year’s service. As the meal came to an end, the hubbub of the dining room fell away. The room's loud speakers boomed into life, filling the space with a rendition of the Beatles’ Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.

  'Oh, isn't this fantastic,' said Amelia. You know what's coming now, Mr Simpers. Then again perhaps you don't since this is your first cruise. In a few minutes the whole of the galley crew will appear on the balcony over there. We will all give them a rapturous round of applause to thank them for the wonderful meal tonight.'

  Simpers didn't have time to respond. The music broke off, allowing the maître d' to introduce the executive chef and his team. Immediately he stopped talking, the music track leapt into life again. This signalled the entrance of about thirty staff from the galley. The more the cruise passengers applauded, the more the galley staff waved back. All wore broad smiles as they acknowledged their satisfied customers. As if the noise coming from the passengers wasn't enough, several of the galley staff now produced vuvuzelas . Their efforts in drowning out the music track was successful.

  'Ye gods,' said Simpers, 'I thought those things were bad enough when I first heard them watching the South African World Cup. In real life, they're even worse!'

  The detective continued to stare in bemusement at the musical chefs. He noticed one of them paying particular attention to his table, and him in particular – at least the man's eyes were, since the rest of his face hid behind the flared bell of his vuvuzela. The more he concentrated on the individual, the more the man focused on Simpers. For a moment Simpers thought he was being paranoid. Seconds later he realised his suspicions were well placed. An object embedded itself in the table, inches in front of his abdomen. He glanced at his companions to see if they noticed the projectile. He needn't have worried, they were far too busy applauding and singing along to the music track. Retrieving the napkin that had covered his lap, Simpers enveloped what looked like a dart. He extracted it from the table with a sharp twisting action, before placing the object into his jacket pocket. The sudden movement caused Amelia to turn her gaze from the gallery towards Simpers. Noticing nothing untoward, she soon turned her attention back to the celebrations in hand.

  'If you don't mind, I’ll leave you to your partying, I need a bit of fresh air,' shouted Simpers to make himself heard over the cacophony of sound.

  Acknowledging the smiles of his table companions, Simpers rose from the table and strode into the lobby. He then climbed several sets of ornate stairs until he reached a pair of heavy mahogany doors, which opened outwards. Simpers pushed the doors. A strong breeze lapped his face as he stepped onto the open promenade deck. Simpers crossed the teak floor and leant on the safety rail, his gaze alternating between a huge sky filled with glinting stars and darkening horizon. He gazed downward to the forming froth that skirted the ship's hull, and which broke the surface of an otherwise flat calm sea.

  Simpers felt the relief of having left behind the hubbub, music and vuvuzelas. He enjoyed the silence, interrupted only by the gentle swish of the ship as it cut its way through the Atlantic Ocean. He also felt the reverberations of the liner's engines, which he had come to quite enjoy. The peaceful interlude didn't last for long.

  'Please, sir, I cannot do what you ask.'

  'You know what will happen if you don't. See, it's up to you. But just to help you make your mind up, think on this.'

  Simpers turned his head in the direction of the voices. One frightened, the other confident and aggressive. He heard a sickening thud that he recognised as being the all too familiar sound of a fist landing a devastating punch.

  'Please, please, sir. No more, no more…'

  'Then think on, if you don't want any more of this, do what I tell you. Got it? I'll be in touch.'

  By the time Simpers traced the location of the voices, only one figure remained. A young man in the uniform of a cabin steward slumped forward onto the teak deck, resting on his knees.

  'Who did this to you, who was it?'

  'Thank you for your ki
ndness, sir, but there was no one. I tripped. I just tripped.'

  'The one thing you didn't do was trip. I heard someone shouting at you, what did he want?'

  'You are most kind, sir, but as I told you, there was no one else. I tripped,' replied the cabin steward as he clutched his stomach and tried to catch his breath.

  As Simpers tried to interrogate the young man further, a small door marked staff only opened behind the injured man.

  'Rahul, are you OK? Come with me, let me get you back to your cabin,' said the steward's friend.

  'Do you know who did this?' said Simpers.

  'Is your name Mr Simpers, sir?'

  'Yes, it is, tell me what you know.'

  'Pedru don't say anything, you know what will happen.'

  'No, this has got to stop,' said Pedru. 'Some of us will die if we cannot stop them. Please, Mr Simpers, talk to the Commodore's steward, he says you have met him. He says we can trust you. Now, Rahul, it's time to go.'

  Simpers thought back to the piece of paper he'd found in his jacket pocket. What on earth was going on here?

  'I will do as you ask, Pedru,' replied Simpers before continuing, 'now do something for me. If any of you feel that you are in imminent danger, get a message to me. Will you do that?' Simpers held the heavy metal door open as a young man helped his injured colleague back to the relative safety of his cabin.

  ***

  Simpers folded his clothes and hung them in their predetermined space in the wardrobe. He continued to mull over the dart in the dining table, and the attack on the cabin steward. Also, what was the link between these events and Pippa's skirmish with the handrail? And his own adventure with that bulk head door, what was that about?

  He decided to get his thoughts onto the dictaphone, so turned to the wardrobe and retrieved the machine from his jacket pocket. Pull as he would at the door, it refused to budge. Then, with one last heave, it shot open at such a rate of knots that it hit Simpers square between the eyes. It knocked him senseless as he lost balance and fell to the floor. As he came to his senses a few seconds later, he was aware that he was now not alone. He felt a soft hand stroking the back of his head. He couldn't understand why it was dark, even though he knew the light had been on a few seconds earlier. He then realised the truth of the matter. His face had disappeared into the ample bosom of a woman.

  'My poor Mr Simpers. You've been in the wars again, haven't you. Here, let me rub that bump of yours.'

  Jenny's remedy for soothing the detective’s pain, was to bury his head ever deeper into her décolletage.

  'Mrs Smeeton, what on earth are you doing,' mumbled Simpers as he struggled for air. 'I thought you were having after dinner drinks with your whirlpool partners…'

  'Dear Mr Simpers, my husband is making up a threesome, so I thought I would come and keep you company. Don't you like my company?'

  As the woman let go of Simpers' head he was able to see the full extent of her undress, her negligee leaving little to the imagination.

  'Mrs Smeeton, this has got nothing to do with whether I find your company stimulating, so to speak. Anyway, how did you get in to my cabin?'

  'Oh, Mr Simpers, don't be so naive, young men with pass keys can be ever so easy to charm. You men are all the same, aren't you?'

  'As a matter of fact, no, we're not. Although I'm flattered, would you please leave my cabin. I'm sure your husband will be waiting for you.'

  'You are a spoilsport, or are you just teasing me? As for my delicious husband, I suspect he'll be a little tired by the time I get back to the cabin. Are you tired, my naughty bobby?'

  'Funny you should say that, Mrs Smeeton. After the day I've had, all I want to do is go to bed… on my own.'

  'Well, if you're sure…'

  'Yes, I am, but thank you for your kind offer.'

  With that, Jenny wrapped what passed for a nightgown around her ample figure. She tied it with a bow to one side, before giving Simpers a last lingering look and letting herself out of his cabin.

  Just as the detective began to doze, the phone rang. Too tired to bother flicking the bedside light on, he looked at the caller display and lifted the receiver.

  'Mr Simpers, a friendly call to suggest that you do not get involved in things that don't concern you. You may have thought you were lucky at dinner tonight. You need to understand that if we'd wanted to kill you with that dart, we would have. I do hope we understand each other. Do have a peaceful night's sleep.'

  Before Simpers could ask who the caller was, the line went dead. He couldn't work out whether the caller was referring to the safety of the gems or the attack on the cabin steward, or both. He picked the phone up once more and rang the reception desk.

  'I have just received a call from A676. I'm so sorry to bother you, but I didn't catch the caller's name. Could you look that up for me, please?'

  'I'm sorry, having checked your 'phone log, I can't trace anyone having called you today. Also, there is no cabin A676 aboard this ship.'

  Exhibit 'A'

  Simpers didn't sleep well. The events of the previous evening had left him feeling unsettled.

  It wasn't so much the amorous advances of the Smeeton woman. He was more concerned with the dart that almost spoiled his Baked Alaska. He decided to dress down for the day, rather than stick out like the proverbial sore thumb wearing a suit. It wasn't his style, but thought it might help in solving the puzzle of cabin A676.

  'Beautiful day, isn't it?' The voice came from an elderly man in an undersized T-shirt and oversize shorts; open toed sandals with the obligatory calf length cotton socks rounded off the man's ensemble.

  Simpers' surprise continued at how affable other passengers were. The contrast with the individuals he dealt with on a day to day basis couldn't have been more acute.

  'It's great to be in Madeira, isn't it? Are you going ashore for the day?'

  'Do you know, I think I will. Have you been here before?' responded Simpers.

  'Oh, yes, this is our fifteenth cruise and sixth time in Madeira. We love taking in Funchal, it's a great city with lots to see,' replied the man.

  Simpers felt the man's obvious next question was how many cruises he had undertaken. His relief was palpable when the jovial man restrained himself from doing so.

  'No, I'm a Madeira virgin; first time for me,' offered Simpers.

  'Then you have a great day in front of you. The thing about Funchal is that apart from the coastal strip, it's uber hilly. Make sure you're wearing some sturdy footwear – especially if you are walking besides any of the Levadas.'

  'Well, it sounds fascinating, and thank you for the advice. Do have a good day,' responded Simpers. The detective didn't know what a Lavada was, but was not about to advertise his ignorance by asking the man.

  The two men offered an informal wave of the hand as they each went their separate ways. Simpers studied the layout of the ship on a large graphic positioned on the wall next to the elevators. He looked for the red dot that told him his current position. Scanning the layout of the massive vessel for 'A' deck, he realised that to get there would involve more stairs than he wanted to climb. For a fleeting moment he considered the elevator. Then he recalled his doctor's direction that he needed to lose weight and that exercise would do him no harm at all.

  Rounding the corner from the wide lobby at the head of the staircase, he saw two familiar faces.

  'Ah, Mr Simpers, how are you on this beautiful sunny day? Jonathan and I are off to Funchal, would you like to come with us?'

  'Good morning, Amelia. Thank you for the kind invite, but I've got one or two things I need to get done, but do enjoy your trip and don't get too sunburned.'

  'I see, I suppose you're up to your policing stuff again. Well I hope your number comes up and you find what you're looking for. I'm sure that the two of us will see you at the exhibition a little later today.' Pleasantries exchanged, the trio parted. Simpers pondered Amelia's reference to his number coming up. Was it a coincidence, or was he being paranoi
d? As a copper he knew he didn't believe in coincidences.

  Simpers traced his way down the long, narrow corridor. To his left were the 'inside' cabins. To his right, cabins with a sea view. As he walked, he focused on the ascending cabin numbers. A560, 562, 564. And so the numbers continued in sequence, until he hit cabin A674. After that, nothing other than a bulkhead wall, which signalled the end of the corridor. Simpers looked at the vertical surface for what seemed an age, before turning away in frustration. It seemed he would have to accept what the receptionist had said to him the previous evening. There was no cabin A676 on the ship.

  As he turned to trace his way back down the corridor, he caught a fleeting glimpse of a telephone handset recessed into the wall. It was behind a locked glass panel marked, 'For staff use only'. Simpers became intrigued by the reference number etched into the bottom of the glass panel.

  It read: A6/76.

  ***

  'Come on, Jonathan, finish your cappuccino, we don't want to be late for the opening of the exhibition, do we?'

  'It's all right for you,' Jonathan responded. 'Looking at the rate you got through your hot chocolate, you've got an asbestos-lined gullet.' He didn't hide his irritation having to leave the rest of his drink and trail after Amelia.

  'There you are, I knew we would be late. Look at the queue.' Amelia pointed a finger and instructed him to join a long line of passengers beside the double doors of the exhibition room.

  Minutes passed and the hubbub from the queue increased as their irritation at the delay grew. In fact, waiting seemed to be something many found an anathema. As voices became raised, a junior officer appeared with an armful of coloured brochures. The antidote worked as he made his way along the line and presented anyone who showed interested with a copy. The brochure contained exquisite illustrations and a history of the main pieces that would be on show. A relative quiet descended as those who had taken the brochure immersed themselves in its contents.