The South Pacific Murders

by Sylvia Massara

  Smythe regarded me thoughtfully with his blue-green eyes, and I felt colour rush to my face. I prepared for battle, but he took the wind out of my sails by saying, “Thank you, Mia. That’s exactly what Dobbs and I intend to do. I’m glad we’re on the same wavelength.”

  Damn! The man must have read my earlier thoughts about us being on the same level and now he used exactly the same term I had—being on the same wavelength. Lord, how I hated him sometimes. He could be smug, but with the ability to make it look like he was grateful for my input. Unfortunately, I had no comeback for this so I remained quiet.

  “Okay,” Smythe went on, looking rather surprised at my silence. “We’ll reconvene in my cabin after the search. As soon as those helicopters arrive, you can bet most of the passengers will be out on deck watching. So Mia and Chris, that’s your chance to start talking to people.”

  “But now you guys can get some sleep if you wish,” Dobbs suggested. “Phil and I are meeting with Garcia in a few minutes to start going through the footage.”

  “Do you need any help? It’s an awful lot of footage,” Chris offered.

  “Thank you, but no. Too many people will make for more confusion,” Smythe answered. “We’ll see you both later.” He stood with Dobbs and they marched off in the direction of the security office.

  “Too many people will make for more confusion,” I mimicked in a tone loaded with sarcasm. “Who the fuck does he think he is!” I lashed out when I was sure Dobbs and Smythe were out of earshot.

  Chris threw me a look of sympathy. “Don’t worry, Mia. We have the better job. At least we get to talk to a whole bunch of people while Dobbs and Smythe will be sitting in a stuffy room, watching boring footage.”

  I sniffed but didn’t answer.

  “Besides,” Chris added with a wicked look in his eyes, “you heard what Garcia said, they have approximately four hundred cameras, and guess what? They’re all controlled by the ship’s computer...” He let the comment hang in the air.

  My head snapped to attention and a smile appeared on my face. “Chris, you wonderful boy! Next thing, you’re going to tell me that you can hack into the security computer and get access to any footage we need.”

  He stated with confidence, “Yes, I know I can hack into the computer, but that isn’t what I was going to say.”

  I gave him a perplexed look. “So what were you going to say?”

  “I’m not a wonderful boy, Ferrari. I’m a wonderful young man.” He winked at me and grinned.

  I regarded him with the affection of a mother and laughed. I was proud of my clever and witty pseudo-son.

  ~~~

  Smythe was correct. At around six in the morning, three rescue choppers approached the area where the ship waited and the decks filled with curious passengers.

  Chris and I had just finished a bacon and egg sandwich each accompanied by a mug of strong coffee. We didn’t go to sleep after Dobbs and Smythe’s departure. Instead, we’d gone to Chris’s cabin to spend some time looking through the footage Chris was able to access by hacking into the security computer.

  We managed to find a clip of footage showing the murderer walking along the passageway on Deck 13 as he approached the exit door, which took him where the victim stood smoking. Unfortunately, all we could see was the back of the person. He wore dark clothing: black joggers, dark pants, and a black hoodie. His gait was a bit unsteady, as is usual when walking while the ship lurches in choppy waters.

  I asked Chris to save the clip and we spent the rest of the time searching through more footage until just before six, when the buffet restaurant opened for breakfast. We didn’t find anything on the CCTV footage; and when we went in search of the receptionist, we were informed he was not on duty because he knocked off early as he was rather shaken by what had happened. As a result, Chris and I went off for a quick meal before the helicopters arrived.

  Now, it was crowded on all decks as Chris and I weaved our way through the throng of onlookers. We managed to grab a spot by the rail near the Deck Grill and watched while the choppers hovered, suspended in the air near the ship. Divers slid down on cable ropes and landed in the water, close to a couple of lifeboats that had been lowered from the ship. Here, the divers stored their equipment and had a platform on which to rest. The ship’s crew manned the lifeboats and helped the divers onboard when they arrived.

  Meanwhile, an announcement came over the PA system directing passengers to the ship’s theatre for roll call. The passengers were grouped by deck and cabin number. While this happened, other passengers started to lose interest in the search and many of them commenced to drift into the restaurant for breakfast while some returned to sit out on deck with trays full of food and morning coffee.

  Chris and I came away from the viewing rail. “This is a good opportunity for us to start mingling,” I suggested. “I’ll do the back of the restaurant and the decks on the stern of the ship. You start here and work this part of the deck up to the bow plus the front section of the restaurant. We’ll meet at ten in The Mariners’ Hub.”

  Chris nodded and we went our separate ways. I worked through the back of the restaurant quickly as everyone I talked to had seen nothing. So far, whoever I questioned simply told me they had been sleeping safely in their bed. It took me well over an hour to work through the restaurant. Then, I went to the back deck where some of the passengers sat eating their breakfast while enjoying the morning sun. I talked to a few people, with the same result, and noted by this time it was well past nine. I felt tired and in need of coffee.

  “Mia, isn’t it?” A voice called from behind me.

  I turned and found Professor Tully having his breakfast at a table tucked away near the sheltered part of the deck, but still with a good view of the water and the search mission.

  “Good morning, Professor.” I smiled. “You have an excellent vantage point here, and you’re away from the cool breeze, too.”

  “Care to join me?” He was eating alone.

  “Sure, why not? Give me a couple of minutes while I run inside to get myself a coffee.” I walked back into the restaurant and helped myself to a mug of coffee from one of the many dispensing machines, plus I grabbed a toasted ham and cheese sandwich from the buffet. The breakfast I’d consumed at six had by now gone down to my feet, and my tummy rumbled with hunger. I rejoined the professor within moments. “I’m starving,” I uttered as I took a seat opposite him. “Have you been watching the search efforts?”

  The professor was buttering a piece of toast very meticulously and I followed his actions closely as he began to cut it into precise squares of about one inch in size. Once this was done, he proceeded to add a dollop of strawberry jam to each little square. I thought of Agatha Christie’s character, Poirot, who in the TV series did exactly the same. The only thing missing were the two, three-minute eggs of exact size, neatly placed in eggcups.

  “It’s like a tradition with me,” the professor explained when he caught me gazing at his little routine. “My wife, Eden, did this for me every morning for thirty years; Lord bless her soul.” He paused for a moment to gather his emotions and I noted a teary look in his faded blue eyes. “I’m sorry. I only lost her last year.”

  My heart ached for him. “No need to apologise. It’s horrible when the one you love leaves you.” I spoke from experience, even though mine had been a marriage break up and not a death. “Thirty years is a long time.”

  The professor nodded, once again overcome with emotion. I reached out and patted his arm. “Eden is a beautiful name.”

  This brought a smile to his face and he composed himself. “She was a beautiful girl,” he responded, back in control. “Please eat up, young lady, before your sandwich gets cold.”

  I laughed, and he regarded me with surprise. “It’s just that no one’s called me young lady for a long time,” I remarked. “These days it’s madam or I’m simply invisible.”

  The professor frowned. “Invisible?”

  I laughed again. “
Yes. Didn’t you know? A female over forty becomes invisible to others, especially one that’s in her late forties.” I felt a taste of bitterness in my mouth when I said this, thinking of my scumbag ex and the bimbo he’d dumped me for—younger than I, of course.

  “Most modern men are stupid, my dear. They simply don’t know women like the old timers. So I wouldn’t let this bother you. To me, you look wonderful, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re still a young lady.” His tone held such gallantry when he spoke that I actually believed him.

  “Well, thank you, Professor,” I returned, almost blushing like a debutante.

  There was something gentlemanly about the man that reminded me of the chivalry of men in the South during the American Civil War. The professor was like an elderly Rhett Butler in Gone With The Wind, one of my favourite movies. Of course, I reminded myself, Rhett was a bit of a wicked character, so perhaps I should compare the professor to Ashley Wilkes instead. There was no one I could use for comparison in Australian history; not with the convicts that had populated the land down under—and never in a gentlemanly way if what I read about this turbulent period in the life of my country was anything to go by.

  While the professor ate his small squares of toast, I refocused on my purpose. “Professor, do you know anything about what happened with this passenger overboard situation?”

  “Why do you ask?” he remarked before he popped another piece of toast in his mouth.

  “Long story; but my friends and I are kind of helping out with trying to gather information about what happened. You see, I work for a company whose CEO is the business partner of the man who owns this cruise company. So it’s kind of like a courtesy to give them a helping hand.” I didn’t want to divulge our real purpose or the fact we had a murder on our hands; therefore, I remained as vague as possible.

  “Well, no. I don’t know anything, my dear. I went to bed early last night and only heard what happened this morning when I made my way to breakfast.”

  “Yes.” I sighed. “It seems everyone was asleep at the time.” I said this more to myself than to him and quickly glanced at my watch. It was nearing ten, so I finished my sandwich and coffee. “Sorry, but I’ve got to go soon. I’m meeting my friends at ten.”

  “Is it that time already?” the professor exclaimed. “Well, my dear, you go. But feel free to call on me any time you want to chat. I’m travelling alone, as you can see, and I always welcome conversation.” He smirked with a glint in his eye. “It’s the only thing left to an old man.”

  I was sad for him, having recently lost his wife, and now travelling on his own, probably to distract himself from the grief. For some reason, I felt drawn to him and looked forward to keeping him company whenever I could. “I’ll hold you to that, Professor,” I replied and stood up in readiness to go. “How do I find you?”

  “I’ll be here most mornings. I like having my breakfast under the blue sky and away from the breeze. I’ll also be here for afternoon tea, around four.”

  “It’s a date then.” I gave him a big smile. “I’ll come in search of you soon and we can chat all you like.”

  He returned the smile and gazed at me with kindly eyes. “God bless you, my dear. I look forward to our next chat.”

  I gave him a little wave and made my way to The Mariners’ Hub where I saw Chris sitting at a corner table. He nodded a greeting as I approached, but before I could return the gesture, Dobbs and Smythe appeared out of nowhere and reached the table before me.

  Dobbs looked tired. Smythe, on the other hand, looked like he’d just been for a swim and had come out of the water all fresh and looking quite virile. An image of Tom Selleck in Magnum PI flashed into my mind and I instantly dismissed it. As a result, my good mood dissipated and I suddenly felt irritated.

  “Good morning,” I greeted everyone formally, though I managed to wink very quickly in Chris’s direction.

  “Mia!” Dobbs seemed happy to see me at least. Smythe hadn’t even returned my greeting. “How are you? I hope you got some sleep.”

  “Er... yes, yes, I did.” I wasn’t going to tell them what Chris and I had been up to. This was our little secret.

  I noticed Smythe’s look of doubt at my statement but didn’t care; nor did I turn toward him. The more I ignored him, the better it would be.

  “Okay,” Smythe began, dispensing with any niceties. “It’s quiet enough to talk in here, so let’s get on with it. We didn’t find very much in the footage, though we did get a view of the killer going out to Deck 13.”

  Chris and I glanced at each other quickly. This must’ve been the same footage clip we had come across.

  “Did you finish watching all the footage?” Chris asked.

  “Not by a mile. We’re going right back to it after we get some sleep. I only had time for a shower and breakfast this morning.”

  “And I’m beat,” Dobbs announced. “After this, I’m off to get some serious shuteye. We can keep going later. Anything from you?” He looked at me, waiting for my report.

  I shook my head. “No. Chris and I talked to as many people as we could, but no one I spoke to saw anything.”

  “Same here,” Chris confirmed. “Everyone seemed to be asleep in their beds at the time of the incident. So it looks like we’re back to nothing.”

  “Not quite,” Smythe stated. “From the little footage we found, we know the killer’s definitely a man. Even though he has his back to the camera, his build and gait are a dead giveaway.”

  “Well, we always knew it was a guy. The receptionist confirmed it, right?”

  I turned to Chris and spoke before Smythe could respond. “What Smythe means is the caller, whom we also assume to be the killer, didn’t disguise his voice to make it sound like a man. The footage confirms he’s male, just as the receptionist that took the call reported.”

  Smythe’s eyes held a gleam of admiration at my observation, but when he realised I caught his gaze, he quickly turned back to Chris. “Any luck talking to the receptionist?”

  “Not yet,” Chris answered. “He went off duty early because he was upset about the incident. So we checked with Mark Evans and he told us the receptionist wouldn’t be back on shift until tonight at eleven.”

  “Very well. We’ll spend the rest of today going through the footage while you two keep talking to anyone you haven’t talked to already.”

  I gave him an army salute. “Yes, sir!”

  Dobbs shook his head at my attitude, but Smythe ignored my sarcasm. “We dock in Noumea tomorrow, so the captain will report the incident to the local police. Dobbs and I have offered to be present, albeit in an unofficial capacity.”

  I was about to protest at this when I saw Mark Evans approaching. He seemed to be looking right at me and smiling. I smiled back and didn’t care who saw me. The guy was young and cute, just as I liked them. It seemed I wasn’t so invisible after all.

  “Good morning all,” Mark said and shook his head when Dobbs went to pull up a chair for him. “No, I can’t stay. I saw you as I was on my way to the Bridge and thought you should know.”

  “Know what?” I jumped in before any of the others could speak.

  “The search has been called off. Unfortunately, they came up with nothing, as was to be expected under the circumstances. Very shortly, we’ll be continuing our journey. We also finished the roll call exercise and we have a passenger unaccounted for.”

  All eyes turned to him with undivided attention as we held our breath.

  “We’re missing a Dr Bertrand van Horn. Early sixties, travelling on his own; but as part of the medical convention we have onboard.”

  “So how come no one noticed him missing until the roll call?” I remarked. “If he’s been travelling with the convention, you’d think someone would’ve known he’d disappeared.”

  Mark replied, “I don’t know the answer to that, but Officer Garcia had the lock of his cabin read, and it shows the doctor last using his key at around midnight.”

  “You
mean to enter the cabin,” Dobbs clarified.

  Mark nodded. “That’s right. He might have gone back out later; but if he did, he never returned.”

  “So this is our man overboard,” Chris commented.

  “We’re fairly certain,” Mark confirmed. “But we’ll know for sure once we talk to all the convention members plus their coordinator, who is travelling with the group.”

  “Chris and I will be happy to do this for you,” I volunteered. “You guys seem to be so busy with the footage and all.” I glanced in Smythe’s direction long enough to see the firm set of his jaw.

  Mark smiled. “Thank you, Mia. Every bit helps.”

  “I take it we can also search his cabin.” Then, I added, “If he’s the missing person, of course.”

  Mark nodded. “I’ll have a key cut for you. Come and see me later. I really must rush now.” He said his goodbyes and walked away.

  “Ferrari, who said you could go searching the cabin?” Smythe addressed me with his formal police voice.

  “Who said I couldn’t?” was my comeback. “You can’t do everything, Smythe. You chose to search through the footage and left the people side of things to Chris and me,” I pointed out smugly. “And this falls under the category of people. Therefore, I get to search the cabin.”

  Smythe went to respond, but Dobbs held up a placating hand. “This one’s hers, Phil. You know she’ll share any findings with us.”

  I felt vindicated and wanted to kiss Dobbs. About time he stuck up for me and put the high and mighty Smythe in his place.

  Chapter 5

  Enrico Lotti looked like a subject out of a Caravaggio painting, depicting Narcissus, the young man who sees his image reflected in water and falls in love with himself.

  Lotti was a handsome young man in his early thirties with a hint of femininity about him and a wonderful athletic build. He had lustrous green eyes and a full, almost cherubic, mouth. “Kissable lips” was the first thing that popped into my mind as I regarded the tall, blond Enrico in all his glory.