Killer Cruise

by Dawn Brookes

  “What do they say he took?”

  “LSD! Lady Snellforpe, the lads are clean, they don’t do drugs, and Dom always warned them off such stuff. Said if they needed those kinds of drugs to be creative, they weren’t good enough to work wiv.” Jimmy’s voice rose a few decibels and people stared at him, although he remained oblivious. He waved his hands in the air and chewed harder on his gum as if to prove the point. “My lads are clean.”

  Deciding to bring him back down from the ceiling, Marjorie suggested ordering drinks for the imminent arrival of ‘his lads’. He recovered himself and she imagined how exhausting it must be to have a volatile temperament – up one minute, down the next. She couldn’t see the point. People might criticise the stoical British temperament, but she would take that any day rather than the constant roller coaster ride many seemed to live by these days.

  Maybe I am too old, she pondered while Jimmy rattled on about contracts and costs and bookings. Her attention returned when he stopped speaking and looked at her, obviously waiting for an answer to a question she hadn’t caught.

  Seeing the open diary in his hand, she guessed.

  “We’ll need to wait until this afternoon for that.”

  He slammed the diary shut, disappointed. Relieved at having guessed the right answer, Marjorie realised she was tired and wished Rachel had accompanied her. This investigating business might be all well and good, but she was not used to dealing with people like Walker.

  Chastising herself for her weakness, she concentrated on the job in hand as the rest of the band made their entrance heard and approached the table.

  “I was just telling Lady Snellforpe ’ow you don’t do drugs, boys.”

  “Too right we don’t,” said Nick. “And I don’t believe Dom did either.”

  Marjorie would have counted ‘pot’, as Walker called it, as a drug, but didn’t want to split hairs. They obviously believed there was a distinction between what they did and drugs.

  “You can’t argue with what they found at autopsy,” said Ray.

  “I’m sure he did all sorts of things we didn’t have a clue about,” said Dalton.

  “Oh, don’t start again, Dalton. Come out of cuckoo land for a bit, won’t you?” Nick hissed.

  Dalton blushed and stared down at his shoes. Marjorie sympathised with him; he seemed a sensitive sort and the constant bickering must wear him down.

  No wonder he seeks attention through fantasy.

  Jimmy turned to the new lead singer who had a woman hanging on to his arm. He had short ginger hair and a moustache, presumably to resemble Freddie Mercury. His hair was unmistakable from the photo Rachel had shown her and Sarah a few days earlier.

  “This is Fred and Millie.”

  “Fred as in Freddie Mercury?” Marjorie enquired.

  “Ironic, isn’t it?” Fred didn’t have the cockney accent most of the band shared. “It is my real name. Inevitable I would play him, I was named after him. My parents’ fault, huge fans.”

  “Oh, did you play Freddie Mercury before with the band?”

  His jawline became jagged as he answered. “No, I should have been lead singer, but the venerable Dom Venables took over not long after we started out.” He glared at the rest of the band. “And what a mistake that turned out to be,” he added.

  With so much testosterone flying about, it’s a wonder they ever got anything done.

  “But he’s our leading man now, eh?” Jimmy interjected, trying to divert the conversation.

  “Dom got his comeuppance.” Fred was not to be dissuaded that easily.

  “Now, now, Fred – let’s not talk ill of the dead.”

  “I don’t see why not,” Nick argued. “No point pretending he was anything but bad news – we could have been famous now if it weren’t for him holding us back.”

  “Come on, Nick, that was never gonna happen,” said Ray, who seemed to be the only person satisfied with his lot.

  “We don’t know that – we should have made our own music, not lost our identity being a stupid tribute act.”

  “I agree,” said Fred. “We used to make our own music until the esteemed Dom joined and convinced these losers to be a tribute. He actually thought he might be Freddie Mercury reincarnated – it’s laughable. For a start, they happened to be alive at the same time – Mercury died in 1991 and Dom was born in 1969. Do the maths!”

  “I never thought of that,” said Dalton.

  The rest stared at him in disbelief.

  Not the shiniest tool in the box. Marjorie chuckled inwardly, but at least it brought about a change of subject as the rest of the group teased Dalton mercilessly over his faux pas.

  Rachel and Marjorie met up and compared notes before arranging to see Waverley in his office prior to lunch. They found him whistling a tune as they arrived. His door was wide open.

  Marjorie nudged Rachel. “I told you he’s in love,” she whispered.

  Waverley turned just in time to catch the two women sniggering. He looked confused, but didn’t comment.

  “Come in, ladies, take a seat.”

  They sat on the sofa and he took one of the soft chairs opposite.

  “First, I need to thank you, Rachel. We have a full confession from Dave Hughes. He said he attacked his uncle and you – although he didn’t realise it was you – and it appears we were right about Dominic Venables. He was murdered – Dave’s confessed to that murder too.”

  Waverley beamed from ear to ear while rubbing his hands together. Marjorie gasped and Rachel remained silent.

  Waverley explained how Hughes had said he’d got angry with his father for ignoring him on board ship, they’d had a row. Venables was drunk, Hughes punched him and walked away. Later, he realised he must have punched him too hard and his father staggered and fell.

  “Manslaughter rather than murder. He didn’t realise he’d killed him.”

  “So why attack Gordon?” asked Marjorie.

  “Revenge for humiliating him on the lido deck, he decided he’d get his own back. You’re quiet, Rachel, I thought you’d be pleased – another case solved by PC Prince.”

  “Sorry, I find it hard to believe, particularly as he sounded pretty convinced that Gordon had murdered his father when I spoke to him this morning. He clearly stated he held Gordon responsible and threatened to kill him, or words to that effect, although I think it’s all bravado. He may well have punched his father, but the coroner said Venables had been hit from behind before the neat drug scenario changed everyone’s minds.

  “In fact, I now don’t think Dave attacked Gordon at all, or me. It hasn’t sat right since I spoke to Dave this morning. He didn’t have the facts and didn’t give the impression someone else – namely me – had been attacked at the same time. He was terrified when Gordon attacked him by the lido pool – I can see why he wants people to think he’s brave and vengeful, but he’s just a big pussycat trying to be macho in front of his mates.”

  “You’re the one who had us arrest him.”

  “Yes I did, but now I’m not so sure. It might play into our hands, though, so we can catch the real perpetrator. Did Dave volunteer that he’d attacked me or did you ask him?”

  The other two stared in confusion at Rachel, Waverley groaning and brushing back the imaginary hair from his forehead.

  “Now you mention it, I asked him. Why didn’t you tell me this was a ruse?”

  “To be honest, it wasn’t, but the longer I spoke to Dave Hughes, the more I felt in my gut it wasn’t him. He’s just an insecure young man whose dream of being reunited with the father who abandoned him and his mother died a death. It’s like he’s now trying to be the bad man like his father.”

  “Great psychology, Rachel,” said Waverley disparagingly. “Where’s the evidence – apart from your gut, of course?”

  “Now, Chief, sarcasm doesn’t become you, and I for one am a great believer in Rachel’s gut,” said Marjorie, taking Rachel’s hand protectively.

  Waverley groaned again
just as there was a knock on the door.

  “COME IN!” he bellowed.

  Jason entered the office accompanied by the groom-to-be from the stag group and Sarah.

  “Sorry to interrupt, sir, but you should hear what this lad has to say. This is Aled Lewis, best friend of Dave Hughes.”

  Waverley glared but gathered his composure. “Come and sit down, Mr Lewis, we meet at last. Your party has caused us quite a few problems.”

  Rachel and Marjorie exchanged glances with Sarah who took a seat with them on the sofa. Aled sat on the other soft chair while Jason remained standing. The young man looked sheepish.

  “Sorry about that, sir, the boys do get carried away when they’ve had a few.” His Welsh lilt and smile were disarming. “I’ve just heard about Davey’s confession so I came immediately. He couldn’t have attacked that cruise director – he was in our room with me. He’d drunk too much, and while he was thrashing about in bed, he cut his head open again, you see. I called the medics and this nurse came and glued his head.”

  “Is this true, Sarah?” asked Waverley.

  “Yes. I checked the records, and they called me at 5am. I left their room at around 6am after being summoned to attend to Gordon Venables and Rachel.”

  “I don’t suppose you were around when Dave punched his father?” Waverley asked Aled.

  “As a matter of fact, I was, but Davey doesn’t know that. He kept ranting about how his dad left his mother, how he’d hero worshipped the man – famous singer and all that. He’s always been impressionable. Anyway, he flew off the handle, miffed that the man had been ignoring him since he’d told him he was on board and determined to have it out with him. He stormed out of the room. I followed to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid because he’d had a few, like. Anyway, I saw the confrontation they had. His dad was horrible to him and told him to grow up – he wasn’t the daddy type – and to go back to his whore of a mother. Davey did lose it and punched him. The guy was so drunk he reeled back and Davey stormed off. I stayed to see if the bloke was alright.”

  “And was he?” Rachel found herself holding her breath.

  “He was fine, laughing out loud. Called Davey a few names under his breath, then lit up a cigarette as if nothing had happened. He walked unevenly over to the ship’s rail and started yelling at the world what a great man he was. I returned to our room to check on Davey, but I never told him what I’d seen – he would have been gutted to know anyone had witnessed how dismissive his great hero dad had been.”

  “You’re a good friend to have,” said Sarah.

  “Thanks,” said Aled blushing.

  “Thank you, Mr Lewis, for telling us. I need you to keep this to yourself for now because we want the real murderer and attacker of our cruise director to imagine they are safe. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir. Will you be letting Davey go?”

  “We’ll hang on to him for now. I don’t want his anger to spill over into actually doing something silly, and it will add to the real attacker’s belief that he is safe.” Waverley nodded to Jason to take Aled outside and record what he’d just said.

  After they’d left, Waverley looked at Rachel.

  “Right again, Miss Prince.”

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “So,” he sighed, “we’re back to square one.”

  “Not really,” said Rachel. “We’ve narrowed the field and we’re getting closer to finding out which one of the band is involved. As you say, whoever it is will feel safe now, and for whatever reason, they want Gordon Venables out of the way. I assume you’ve got a tail on him?”

  “How did you know?”

  “My gut!” They all laughed, including Waverley. “I knew you would need a better reason for letting him go back to work than blind belief in his innocence.”

  “He’s agreed to be bait as long as he keeps his job if proven innocent, which is quite brave of him under the circumstances. I almost called off the watch, but I’m glad I didn’t. We will catch whoever it is trying to kill him.”

  “What if they don’t try again?” asked Sarah. “And worse, what if they do and they succeed?”

  “I agree,” said Rachel. “We need to work out the motive for a double murder – if we do that, we find the killer. Marjorie and I are meeting the band and the manager this afternoon. I’m hoping we’ll find out something. They all seem to have hated Dom, but I don’t understand why any of them would want to kill Gordon.”

  “And you’re sure it’s one of them?” asked Waverley.

  “Ninety-nine per cent certain that one of them killed Dom Venables, and for some reason, now wants to kill his brother.”

  “What if it’s all of them?” asked Marjorie. “Remember I joked about Murder on the Orient Express – what if they hated him so much they planned this together?”

  “That is a possibility.” Waverley scratched his head. “Horrendous as it may seem.”

  “We will probably find out today,” said Rachel.

  “Do be careful, Rachel, and you, Marjorie.”

  “Don’t worry, my dear,” said Marjorie, “I won’t let her out of my sight.”

  “I’m not sure that’s very reassuring.” Sarah laughed. “The pair of you are as bad as each other.”

  “We’ll continue the watch on Gordon and I will have one of my men hanging around when you meet with the band. Do you want to wear a wire?”

  “I’ll record on the mobile if you can give it back to me.”

  “Yes, we’ve taken what we need.” Waverley walked behind his desk and took the mobile from it.

  Rachel took her phone back and quickly checked for messages in case of any word from Carlos. Disappointed she returned her gaze to Waverley. “They won’t try anything this afternoon, but I’m hoping they’ll talk enough to give something away. Marjorie’s going to be very generous with the spirits during our meeting.”

  The two women exchanged conspiratorial glances as they rose to leave.

  Chapter 29

  The fishing expedition with the band had been totally unproductive in terms of discovering anything new. They happened to be their usual argumentative selves, but Jimmy seemed determined to stick to his objective of getting Marjorie to book them for Rachel’s imaginary birthday party later in the year. Each time Marjorie or Rachel tried to steer the conversation towards the death of the late lead singer, Jimmy interrupted, preventing anyone from pursuing the subject any further. In the end, Marjorie provisionally booked them just to convince Jimmy that they were genuine. Then, feigning tiredness, she said she would finalise details after her port outing the next day.

  “It’s as if he did that deliberately,” Rachel complained.

  “If he did, he’s onto us. We should proceed with caution.”

  “There’s only one thing for it now – my Plan B, which Waverley would not agree to.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I need to go through their cabins while they’re performing tonight. Waverley said there was no justification when I suggested it earlier – not enough evidence against them.”

  “Why didn’t I think of that? What a good idea – we’ll go together.”

  “Oh no, Marjorie, I can’t ask you to go down there, it’s too dangerous. The stairs are steep, metallic and difficult to negotiate, the rooms are tiny, and no offence, but you’d stick out like a sore thumb. Besides, I need you to keep an eye on the band and send me warning if any of them disappear during their break.”

  “You can’t go alone. Take Sarah with you.”

  “No, I almost got her in trouble the last time I ventured down to the crew cabins. Besides, she’s on call and I can’t have her radio going off when I’m on a secret mission.”

  They discussed the plan back in Marjorie’s suite before dinner. Rachel bought walkie-talkies from the on-board gift shop and showed Marjorie how to use hers if she needed to warn her about anything. Marjorie was thoroughly enjoying herself. Rachel apologised to the old lady for having to subject her
to another evening of loud pop music, but even that didn’t put her off.

  “If anyone thinks it strange I’m there, I’ll stick to the hiring them for a party story.”

  What they needed to do now was get hold of a universal swipe key and Rachel knew just where to find one. Waverley carried spares in the top right-hand drawer of his desk – she had seen them when he’d offered her a job in the past. Their problem consisted of how to get into his room without him realising.

  Marjorie and Rachel decided to pay him an unannounced visit to explain that they had got nowhere with the band, sharing their frustration. He took it all in and sighed.

  “An update on the new singer, by the way: it appears he and his wife did board earlier on the day in question. A computer update caused a temporary glitch that has now corrected itself. And now that security has less to do, I can’t ask you to continue your involvement, so leave it to my team. Thank you for your assistance.”

  Rachel nodded before Marjorie could protest.

  “Good idea. We’re on holiday, aren’t we, Marjorie?”

  “Yes indeed. Have you spoken to that young man yet, Chief?”

  “I was just about to go when you two ladies arrived, so if you’ll excuse me.” He stood up.

  Perfect, thought Rachel as he walked them out. Just as they were leaving, Marjorie tripped, causing Waverley to rush forwards to support her.

  “Are you alright, Lady Snellthorpe?”

  “Yes, silly old thing that I am. I do lose my footing occasionally these days.”

  “Sit down for a moment, Marjorie. I’ll get you a glass of water. Don’t worry about us, Chief, you go ahead.” Rachel smiled encouragingly.

  “If you’re sure? I would like to speak to Hughes, and then I’ve got to join the captain’s table for some paying dinner guests.”

  “Quite sure,” said Marjorie. “You go along, I am quite alright.”

  As soon as he was out of sight, Marjorie looked at Rachel.

  “Did you manage it?”

  “Like taking candy from a baby.” After checking the coast was clear, Rachel crossed the corridor back to Waverley’s office where she had inserted a piece of card to prevent the door locking while the distraction caused by Marjorie diverted his attention.