Book Read Free

The South Pacific Murders

Page 1

by Sylvia Massara




  The South Pacific Murders

  A Mia Ferrari Mystery

  By

  Sylvia Massara

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Published by Tudor Enterprises

  Australia

  (61) 419 492 623

  This eBook Edition 2016

  First published by

  Tudor Enterprises in 2014

  Copyright © Sylvia Massara

  Sylvia Massara asserts the moral right to

  be identified as the author of this work

  Smashwords Edition

  ISBN: 978-0-9875475-3-8

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, printed, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Titles by Sylvia Massara

  Romantic comedy:

  Like Casablanca

  The Other Boyfriend

  General fiction:

  The Soul Bearers

  Mia Ferrari mystery series:

  Playing With The Bad Boys

  The Gay Mardi Gras Murders

  The South Pacific Murders

  Sci-fi Romance:

  The Stranger

  For more information on Massara’s novels, both in eBook

  & paperback editions, plus participating retailers;

  or for latest novels or to contact the author, please visit:

  http://www.sylviamassara.com/

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Entry from Mia’s Case Book

  About the Author

  About Massara’s other novels

  Dedication

  To Mia, my naughty ankle-biting kitty;

  and to the handsome officers of P&O’s Pacific Pearl.

  You guys are hot!

  Chapter 1

  I tried very hard to control my temper as I fixed my work colleague and friend, Guy Dobbs, with a look that could vapourise a planet in a millisecond. “Who the hell invited Smythe along?”

  Dobbs winced at my enraged tone and did his best to give me a placating smile. “Now, Mia; you know you agreed to be good where Smythe’s concerned. Don’t forget he saved your life.”

  I banged down my cup on his desk, making the items on it rattle. We were having coffee in the security office of Rourke International Hotel Sydney, where Dobbs was the security manager.

  “Honestly, I can’t believe you’re standing up for the guy. It was his friggin’ job to save my life,” I exclaimed indignantly. “Besides, I was the one who once again had to solve the case for the cops because they were too stupid to listen to me in the first place!”

  Dobbs did not respond immediately but regarded me for a while, until I had time to settle down. He knew me too well to try to push a point when it concerned my archenemy, Detective Sergeant Phil Smythe of the Kings Cross police.

  I took a deep breath in order to calm myself. There was no point in losing my temper with Dobbs since the whole thing was now a fait accompli. I therefore remarked after a few moments of silence, “I just don’t understand it, Dobbs. What made you invite him on the cruise?”

  Dobbs’s large dark eyes gazed back at me from a chocolate brown crinkled face topped by grey frizzy hair. He spoke carefully lest he should provoke another outburst from me. “Mr Rourke told me I should invite someone in his place seeing as he couldn’t make it,” he explained in his deep voice with a marked American accent. “The reason I thought of Smythe was because he managed to keep the press off our backs after the drag queen murders. When I suggested this to Mr Rourke, he agreed it was a good idea in order to maintain a cordial relationship with the police.”

  I sniffed and felt myself relent, albeit reluctantly; but I wasn’t about to admit it to Dobbs. He should suffer a little longer for what he’d done, even though it was a good move on his part to invite that prick, Smythe. I had to take another calming breath to remind myself that Smythe had cut me a lot of slack during the gay mardi gras murder investigation.

  Taking another sip of coffee, this time I put down my cup gently to rest on its saucer. “Very well,” I answered begrudgingly. “I guess we all have to sacrifice in the name of professionalism.” I felt more than saw Dobbs’s sigh of relief at my comment.

  Dobbs ventured an encouraging smile. “I’m glad you see sense, Ferrari. The boss will be happy to hear it.”

  I turned questioning eyes on him. “How come David isn’t coming with us anyway?” I secretly felt regret at the fact that David Rourke, CEO of our hotel group, wouldn’t be with us on the trip. Although I’d had a thing with him in my youth and he was now my employer, nonetheless, the attraction between us had never completely disappeared.

  “He’s tied up with the project in Waikoloa,” Dobbs informed me, unaware of my thoughts. Then he added, “In any case, Chris is coming along.”

  Chris was David’s twenty-year-old son and my little helper whenever I became involved in solving a mystery. Not only was Chris like a pseudo-son of sorts, but he was my personal computer hacker—something Smythe had silently agreed to ignore during our last case, when Chris’s contribution to the investigation had been invaluable. Yet another reason why I had to swallow my pride and stop protesting about Smythe joining us on the trip.

  “Well, I only hope David’s arranged separate cabins for us. There’s no way I’m sharing with anybody,” I remarked as if I wasn’t too happy about going on the trip in the first place, which was not exactly the case. I really looked forward to some much-needed rest and relaxation.

  Dobbs shook his head and threw me a look of amusement. “Don’t be silly, Ferrari. Of course you’ll have a cabin to yourself. You don’t think they’re going to make you share with one of us, do you?”

  I shrugged. “If I had to share with Chris, I’d manage it,” I returned with a grin. “But not with you. Eileen tells me you snore in your old age.”

  Dobbs’s solid frame shook with rumbling laughter. “Don’t let Eileen fool you. She might complain, but she still thinks I’m hot in my sixties.”

  I replied with mirth, “If she can say that after so many years of marriage, then you’re onto a good thing.” My mind briefly flashed on my own broken marriage of eighteen years, but I forced my focus back to the present. I hadn’t thought about my ex in almost a year, so I wasn’t about to go down memory lane now.

  The tel
ephone on Dobbs’s desk rang and he picked up. “Security, Dobbs speaking.”

  While Dobbs talked on the phone, I cleared our empty coffee cups in preparation for returning them to room service.

  I had been in the middle of my rounds when I’d dropped by Dobbs’s office for coffee, and now I planned to check on the kitchen before I carried out several random room checks to ensure housekeeping maintained the hotel’s high standards. As a duty manager of the hotel, my job was to ensure things ran smoothly during my shift.

  “Trouble in the garage,” Dobbs announced, hanging up the phone.

  “What now?” I queried, coffee cups in hand.

  “One of the valets accidentally scraped a guest vehicle when trying to park it.” He shook his head in annoyance. “It never stops with these young ones who think they can play car racing with someone else’s vehicle.”

  We walked out of the security office together and made our way toward the service lift.

  “Don’t get me started on the Gen Y’ers.” I rolled my eyes. “They have no respect for anybody. Plus with them, it’s always me, me, me.”

  “What’s the matter, Ferrari; you’ve gone off the younger men for a change?” he teased with merriment in his eyes.

  “Buzz off, Dobbs.” I grinned wickedly. “You know there’s only one thing that can stop me from a dalliance with a younger man.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Death.”

  Dobbs roared with laughter at my response, and we entered the lift when it arrived. He was still trying to recover from his outburst when we stopped at my floor and the doors swished open.

  “This is me.” I threw him a look of amusement. “I’ll catch you later, my man.”

  He nodded, still unable to speak, and the lift doors closed shut. I turned toward room service, my good mood restored.

  ~~~

  “Counting the days before we sail?” Chris crept up behind me in the room service kitchen, almost making me drop the crockery in my arms.

  “Shit, Chris!” I rounded on him. “Don’t creep up on me like that. I hate it.”

  He appraised me with the same green eyes as his father’s, and his dark good looks. “I bet you Dobbs just broke the news to you about Smythe joining us on the trip.”

  I placed the cups and saucers on a dishwashing rack and then threw my hands up in the air with irritation. “Does everybody know about this except me?”

  Chris grabbed hold of my jacket sleeve and pulled me out of the kitchen before we could be overheard. I followed him to the service corridor and we proceeded to make our way toward Reception in the front-of-house area.

  “Dad told me last night at dinner. So aside from him and Dobbs, no one knows about Smythe coming along,” Chris reassured me, and then commented, “I didn’t even know we were going on this trip until then. I thought I’d be working right through semester break.”

  When Chris was not attending university, where he was studying for a degree in IT, he worked as a casual waiter in the functions department of his father’s hotel. Although he didn’t need to hold down a job, he had a good work ethic, which made me like him all the more. I couldn’t abide some of today’s youngsters who simply sponged off their parents because they were too lazy to get off their butts and get a job for spare money.

  “I’m still not sure why your dad even invited us on this trip in the first place,” I remarked.

  “Don’t you know? Dad’s financial partner in the Waikoloa project is also the owner of Columbine World Cruises. They plan to introduce cruise packages incorporating accommodation on arrival in Hawaii.”

  I raised an eyebrow and regarded him with interest but didn’t say anything.

  Chris went on. “Anyway, the guy gave Dad a few complimentary tickets for their upcoming Hawaiian cruise.”

  “I didn’t know any of this,” I uttered. “Your dad simply told me we were going on the cruise as part of a famil.”

  “Yes,” he conceded. “In a way it is a familiarisation trip. After all, we’re going to be accommodating guests that travel between Sydney and Hawaii. Plus once Waikoloa’s finished and we expand to the island of Oahu, we’re going to have even more business coming through. I think the deal is to eventually offer cruises from Sydney to LA and San Francisco via Hawaii—that is, once Rourke Hotels expand into the West Coast.”

  This made sense seeing as David Rourke owned hotel properties in every major city in Australia and New Zealand. He had visions of expansion in the Pacific Rim and eventually into his native homeland, the US.

  I felt proud of my one-time love. When I’d met him, he had only been twenty years old and attending hotel school. Now, at age thirty-nine, he was a renowned hotelier with multiple properties and on his way to international expansion. Meanwhile, I was ten years older and I hadn’t even been able to make the police force.

  It had been my lifelong dream to follow in the steps of my father and his best friend, Dobbs, but due to circumstances concerning Smythe, and later marriage to my idiot ex, time had run away from me and I ended up in the hotel industry instead. I had to admit, though, that I enjoyed my present job despite the fact I never became a cop. The good thing was that being placed in the hotel world, I was daily exposed to all sorts of insidious activities such as drug deals made in guest rooms; prostitutes being sneaked in by male guests; suicides galore; and the list went on—and though I was the hotel’s senior duty manager rather than a detective, I had gained the reputation of being the informal investigator among the staff, especially since two police cases had unfolded within our hotel over the past year. Rourke Hotel Sydney was located in the city’s red light district, also a big tourist area. So we were never short of drama.

  “Well, I guess it makes sense to send us on this experience. I suppose this is also a big ‘thank you’ from your dad for all the hard work we’ve put in. It’s a shame David can’t make it. Instead, we’re stuck with Smythe.” I frowned.

  Chris cocked an eyebrow at my tone of discontent. “Hey, you should look upon this as a good thing.”

  “How so? I mean, what can possibly be good about having Smythe onboard a ship for fifteen days, and having to socialise with him in the middle of the Pacific?” My voice dripped sarcasm.

  Chris wasn’t put off by my manner and said, “Don’t you get it? Smythe will be sweet once he gets to know us better. So next time we work a case, he won’t threaten to lock us up for interfering.”

  I nodded at this veritable fact. “Hence the reason I’m putting up with it,” I informed him with a big sigh. “Hell, if it wasn’t in our best interests to keep Smythe happy, I’d throw the bastard overboard for the sharks to dine on.”

  Chris laughed and draped an arm around my shoulders as he drew my slight five-foot frame to his six-foot athletic body. “See? This is why I like you so much, Ferrari. You’re such a selfless and caring person.”

  I pulled away and punched his upper arm. “Don’t be a smartarse, Chris Rourke. And you’d better get back to work.”

  He rubbed at his arm. “Man, you still pack a good punch,” he stated with a grimace.

  I stood as straight as I could to try to add a couple more inches to my height, but the top of my head just made his shoulder. “I may be older these days, but I haven’t forgotten my martial arts training,” I remarked with pride in my voice.

  “Yes, I know,” Chris agreed. “As for being older, I hear this doesn’t stop you from being approached by younger men.”

  I scowled. “Get away with you! I see Dobbs has been opening his big, fat mouth.”

  “Don’t be too hard on the man—he’s only being protective of you. You know he loves you like a daughter.”

  “True,” I concurred. “He was, after all, my old man’s best friend on the force. But this doesn’t give him license to go around talking about my taste in men.” I threw him a warning glare to signal the subject was now closed.

  Fortunately for Chris, he got the hint. “Well, I have a function to work, so I gues
s I’ll see you later.”

  He walked off in the direction of the functions department while I walked up a flight of stairs that led to Reception.

  Chapter 2

  The Ocean Star stood gleaming in the sunshine at the White Bay cruise terminal as we waited in line to check in.

  “It says here the ship has the capacity to carry twelve hundred passengers,” Chris commented while he read from a fact sheet that had been added to our ticket folders when the Columbine people had delivered them to the hotel the day prior to embarkation.

  I took a look around the huge check-in hall and observed hundreds of people lining up at different counters, all waiting to check in. There were families with children of all ages, couples, elderly people, and quite a number of disabled passengers.

  “The ship was built in France in 2005 expressly for the Columbine line, which has a fleet of twenty-nine ships covering the world,” Chris continued, sounding like a tour guide. “The port of registry is the United States. The gross tonnage of the ship is fifty-nine thousand, with an overall length of eight hundred feet and a breadth of one hundred and ten feet. There are thirteen decks onboard, and the height of the ship from keel to mast is one hundred and eighty one feet. Wow, this baby’s large!”

  I rolled my eyes. “Thank you for the commentary, Chris. Now, can be have some quiet?”

  “Ouch, Ferrari,” Chris exclaimed in mock hurt.

  “Relax, will you?” Dobbs whispered in my ear. “You could cut the tension in the air with a knife.”

 

‹ Prev