“No, nothing like that,” I answered. “We had a few things to do before dinner.”
Now was obviously not the time to tell Dobbs and Smythe about Downes’s assault, but from the way they were looking at me I had a feeling Mark Evans had mentioned something. Of course, no one brought up the subject while there were others present, so we ate and chitchatted companionably. Every now and then, I caught a glance from either Dobbs or Smythe that told me something was definitely afoot.
I intended on enjoying my dinner, especially after the hot little clue I’d uncovered; although this had as yet to be confirmed. And judging from Chris’s animated countenance, I knew he couldn’t wait to get to his computer and start his search for the suspect website.
“How are things going with the convention?” I asked Enrico while the others engaged in a conversation about Vila and its attractions.
Enrico had finished his meal and was sipping on an espresso. He lifted the demitasse delicately to his lips with one pinky up in the air. Then, he took a sip, which he savoured for a few moments, before finally placing the small cup back on its saucer. His green eyes turned to me, passion written in them. “With all the excitement on this trip so far, I think the doctors are getting rather nervous. But how exhilarating this is—no one knows who’s going to be the next victim.”
I frowned with concern at his comment and remembered we hadn’t yet warned Weinstein. “What makes you think there’s going to be a next victim?”
He waved a hand in the air to emphasise the drama of it all and his eyes grew larger as he moved closer to me and whispered in my ear, “Come on, Mia. You know there’s a pattern here. Somebody’s knocking off the doctors.”
I threw him a wary look. “Is that what they all think? Aside from the man overboard, we haven’t yet released any details about Dr Barry’s incident.” I didn’t want to say any more as Enrico was still on my list of suspects, but I wondered how he knew that Barry had been murdered, especially since we asked Martha and Joy not to talk about it to anyone.
“Mamma mia!” Enrico threw his hands up in the air in grand Italian fashion. “Any fool can see what’s happening here. You can’t keep a secret for long, you know. People talk.”
I speculated Martha or Joy could have let slip to someone that Barry had been murdered rather than killed in an accident. Or perhaps Enrico obtained the information from a crewmember. After all, he seemed to be sexually involved with one or more of them. As far as other passengers outside the convention group were concerned, however, the whole thing had been an accident; and we hoped to keep it that way. “Well, whatever the case may be, there’s no evidence there’ll be a next victim,” I told him rather abruptly, putting an end to the conversation.
Enrico pouted and turned his attention back to his coffee. I could tell he was disappointed because he wasn’t able to get any information from me to further fuel the gossip circulating among the convention members. I finished the rest of my dinner in silence and waited for our group to break up. The officers left to go back to their various duties as soon as they were done. Enrico followed suit after consuming another espresso while he threw sulky glances my way. When he finally departed, this left Dobbs, Smythe, Chris, and I to talk in peace.
“We know about Downes, Mia,” Dobbs spoke as soon as the others left. “I say, throw his sorry ass in the brig!”
I smiled at his concern and shook my head. “Mark’s obviously filled you in on what happened.”
Dobbs nodded. “Of course. You didn’t think he was just going to let it go, did you? He said you didn’t want to report it.”
My gaze slid over to Smythe. I could tell by the contrite look in his eyes that he felt bad about our argument of the previous evening. He’d thought I was having a fling with Mark Evans.
“I’m okay. Honestly,” I answered, addressing Dobbs. “There was no harm done. Besides, I fixed the guy by kicking him in the balls. So I don’t think he’s going to be shagging anybody any time soon. I’d say he’ll be too busy seeking medical advice for his sore privates.”
Chris smirked at my comment, but Dobbs frowned. Smythe’s look was hard to read.
“I told Mark I didn’t want the guy charged,” I continued. “I think we should keep an eye on him in case he’s our killer. He certainly seemed to have the temperament for it; although I can’t fathom what motive he’d have for knocking off his colleagues.”
“In any case, we’re going to pay the doctor a little visit,” Smythe finally spoke up. “We’ll let him know how lucky he is you didn’t have him up for attempted rape. We’ll also make it clear that if he comes anywhere near you again one of us will break his face.”
The ferocity in Smythe’s tone surprised me. “Police brutality, Smythe. I never thought I’d see it firsthand. Very arousing.” I grinned and winked, taking refuge in humour. I didn’t want him to think I was touched by his concern.
Dobbs threw me a serious look. “Ferrari, you do beat all, girl. I can’t wait until we get to Hawaii so we can keep you away from these people. You could be in danger for sticking your nose where it’s not wanted.”
I glared at him, my good humour disappearing in a puff of smoke. “Hey! While I appreciate your concern, we’re here to run an investigation. Besides, I’m not the only one in danger. Any one of you could be targetted. So lay off!”
“Yes, but you’re a girl,” Chris piped in. “And...” And the rest of his words withered away when he saw the look in my eyes.
“I can take care of myself, Chris. Now, let’s change the subject and tell Dobbs and Smythe what we found.”
Chris didn’t need further encouragement and proceeded to fill in the other two on our theory about the “neurotic erotics” website, if indeed it existed.
Smythe regarded us with admiration in his eyes. “That was a good observation. You’ve done well.”
Chris said, “It was Mia’s theory, really.”
“Yes,” I interjected, “but I couldn’t do without you and your computer skills. So let’s just say we make a good team.”
Chris blushed at my praise, but made a speedy recovery as he practically jumped up from his chair. “And on that note, I’m off to run a search.”
“I’ll come by later for a catch-up,” I called out at his retreating form.
“That boy’s a bright one,” Dobbs commented. “He’s going to make his father proud.”
Smythe nodded. “I must admit I’ve been tough on Chris when Mia embroiled him in my past investigations, but the information he came up with proved to be invaluable.”
I shot Smythe a look of derision. “Embroiled? Say what the real truth is, Smythe. How about ‘Chris and I had to solve the case for the police’—and for this, you’re grateful?”
Smythe regarded me tensely. “And how about: I saved your life not so long ago? I hope you’re grateful for that at least!”
Dobbs made a “T” shape with his hands when he saw the look of affront on my face. “Time out, you two! How many times do I have to remind you that we’re working together on this one? Wait until we get back home to wring each other’s necks.” He chuckled to himself and stood up. “I’m off to get some dessert. Your arguing makes me hungry.”
When Dobbs moved out of earshot, I remarked with defiance in my voice, “If you’re such a great cop, why haven’t you come up with any clues yet? At least, Chris and I are making some headway.”
Smythe’s usual blue-green gaze seemed to turn a few shades darker. “You’ve got a real smart mouth, Ferrari. I’d keep it shut if I were you.”
I stood up. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not me, then. And by the way, you guys had better warn Weinstein, in case the killer should be in the mood to strike again.” I gave him a dismissive look and walked off, leaving him alone with his thoughts, which I was fairly sure consisted of an image of him choking the life out of me for being a wisearse.
~~~
I made my way to the Promenade Deck to get some fresh air. After my little spat w
ith Smythe, I couldn’t focus and needed to cool off before I dropped in on Chris to check if he was making any progress on his search.
The deck was empty when I stepped out. At this time, most guests were either at dinner or gone on to see a show, so I had the whole deck to myself. The breeze cooled and soothed me, and the moon cast a magic aura by reflecting its silvery light onto the ocean. This was a night for romance and not one for thinking of archenemies. Against my will, however, my thoughts returned to Smythe. The man simply got under my skin. So much so, that I always felt like lashing out at him whenever I was in his company. What upset me even more was my reaction to his physical presence. The irony of this was that Smythe wasn’t a younger man, like one of the bad boys I usually went for. He was only a few years junior to me, but nowhere near the “toy boy” category.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
I turned toward the voice. Speaking of toy boys, here was Mark Evans, walking toward me. “It’s a beautiful evening,” I remarked as my heart skipped a beat. “I thought I’d come out for some peace and quiet.”
Mark stood next to me, elbows on the balustrade of the viewing rail, gazing at the moon in the horizon. “Very beautiful indeed,” he agreed. “I tried to get your attention at dinner, but it seemed you were having a heated discussion with Mr Lotti.”
“Enrico likes hot gossip and was sniffing around. I put him in his place and he didn’t like it.”
A smile touched Mark’s lips. “You seem to be doing a lot of that lately, Ms Ferrari. First, you kick Dr Downes into submission and now, you silence Mr Lotti with a few words.” Suddenly, he laughed. “Good thing you didn’t take a knife to the passionate Enrico!”
I conjured up an image of me, threatening the dramatic Enrico with a knife, and he holding his arms back in shock and begging for mercy. With his Renaissance looks, it was easy to picture this scene out of a Caravaggio painting. “I would never take a knife to Enrico. He’s too good looking,” I teased. “Besides, I don’t see him as a killer. He’s just a handsome guy looking for spicy gossip.”
Mark turned, placed his arms around my waist, and drew me to him. “Then, thank God for me the very handsome Enrico is gay.”
Before I could reply, his mouth found mine and we kissed deeply. My arms wrapped themselves around his neck and I brought my body closer to his. When we came up for air, Mark nuzzled my neck and whispered, “Come back to my cabin.”
Oh, the temptation! Just the feel of this man’s muscular body against mine was enough to compel me to throw caution to the wind and let him make love to me. All I had to do was say yes or simply nod. But something held me back despite my growing desire; and Smythe’s image flashed into my mind to spoil the moment.
I gently disengaged myself from Mark. “I’m sorry, Mark, but it wouldn’t work out,” I explained while he regarded me with hurt in his eyes. “If this were a year ago, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it.”
“Then why—” he started to say.
I shrugged. “I can’t explain it. I can only say after a long-term marriage gone wrong plus a crazy fling, I need time out.” I shook my head, trying to find the right words. “The thing is I’m still confused. And much as I would love to go with you to your cabin, I don’t think it’s the right thing to do.”
Mark looked disappointed but nodded with understanding. “I think I know where you’re coming from, Mia. I’ll let you be now. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He planted a gentle kiss on my lips and walked away, leaving me to my thoughts.
I must be growing soft with old age; I berated myself as I headed back inside the ship and made my way to Chris’s cabin.
~~~
“Nothing yet,” Chris reported when he opened the door at my knock, and then headed back to his computer. “Help yourself to coffee. I ordered some from room service.”
I grabbed a cup and poured the liquid into it, savouring the aroma of the freshly ground beans. “How can that be?” I queried and took a seat on the bed next to Chris, looking at the screen of his laptop.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “I ran a search on ‘neurotic erotics’ and nothing came up. Then, I tried a few derivations, such as ‘neurotic exotics’, which turned out to be some sort of rock band. Nothing for ‘nervous erotics’ or ‘nervous exotics’. Finally, I searched the words in different order, like ‘erotic neurotics’, ‘exotic neurotics’, and so on. Nothing there either.”
I sensed his frustration. “We’ve only been speculating about the name of the site, you know,” I pointed out. “It may not be a website after all.”
Chris said with defeat in his voice, “That inscription could just be something really innocent, like the initials of van Horn’s bank plus the password. God, it could be anything!” He sighed and slammed his laptop shut. “I need another coffee.”
“It’s getting late,” I told him, glancing at my watch. “Let’s start afresh tomorrow. We’ve got plenty of time now.”
“What do you mean?” He turned to me, coffee cup in hand.
“We have four days at sea before we reach our next port of call at Pago Pago.”
“True. Nothing much to do until then,” he observed.
A knowing smile lit my face. “Except flirt with your girlfriend and search for whatever ‘NE’ means in between.”
“Hey, I told you it was only a drink! Why do you have to read so much into it?”
Chris’s defensive tone surprised me. “I’m sorry; I was only teasing. It’s none of my business what you do.”
He drank more coffee and waited for a few moments before he replied with a frown, “I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t be jumping down your throat. I really liked Julia, but she’s not interested. I think she used me to make her ex-boyfriend jealous. He happens to be on the ship, too, by the way.”
His confession, plus the look of vulnerability on his face, touched my heart. “Oh, Chris, I didn’t know I hit a raw nerve. This girl doesn’t know what a treasure you are; and so good looking, too!” I comforted him. “Why, if I were twenty years younger, I’d go for you myself.”
This brought a smile to his face, but he corrected me. “Thirty, Ms Ferrari. Try thirty years younger.”
It was now my turn to frown.
~~~
I found it difficult to sleep even though it was past midnight. What with the offer to visit Mark’s cabin plus the coffee I’d consumed with Chris, I paced my room for a long time before my nerves finally settled into some semblance of peace.
Both my body and mind were exhausted after the day’s activities and the excitement of coming across a clue that I thought was the first real breakthrough to solving the murders. Then, there was the lingering reaction of shock after the attack by Downes; my run-in with Smythe; putting a stop to Enrico’s attempt at pumping me for juicy gossip; and finally, the passion when Mark kissed me.
I now lay in bed, allowing myself to be lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the ship while I let all thoughts float past me. But before I knew it, I was enveloped in a sensation of arousal with Mark making love to me, and my body responding with excitement. Gone were all my inhibitions and feelings of confusion about having a fling. I had Italian blood running through my veins after all; and Mark was an attractive young man with a virility that stirred my senses.
We were in my bed with him kissing me wildly, our bodies perspiring with the sensual rhythm of our movements—the heat of our exchange drove me toward an explosive climax. I moaned with desire.
Just as I felt myself being enveloped in bliss, however, I was abruptly dropped onto a hard surface. The shock of this forced my eyes open. My mind cleared instantly; and I groaned with pain as I realised I’d fallen off the bed, the erotic dream still lingering in the nether regions of my memory. Loud knocking at my door soon dispelled everything else.
“Mia, Mia! Open the door!” Chris called loudly from outside and followed with more knocking.
I stumbled to my feet and made m
y way to the door, flinging it open; a tirade of abusive words ready to tumble from my lips. But when I saw the look on Chris’s face, I uttered gravely, “Don’t tell me. We have another murder.”
Chapter 13
“This is getting to be a habit,” I complained sleepily while I followed Chris to the Promenade Deck.
After Chris had alerted me to the murder, I jumped into a pair of jeans and pulled a windbreaker over a T-shirt. Within less than five minutes, we were on our way to the scene.
“Who called you?” I practically had to jog to keep up with Chris’s stride.
“The captain alerted Dobbs, and he and Smythe went straight to the deck as soon as Dobbs knocked on my door. He said he tried your door, but you didn’t answer.”
“I must’ve been out like a light. What time was this?”
“Only about fifteen minutes ago.”
“What time is it now? I’m not wearing a watch.”
“Neither am I,” Chris answered without breaking his stride. “But Dobbs knocked on my door at around 3.00am or so.”
“Well, then it must be at least quarter past by now.” I sounded somewhat puffed out. “Hey, slow down, will you? My legs aren’t as long as yours.”
Chris simply smirked. By this time, we had reached the lifts and stepped into the first one that arrived. Chris punched the number seven button and within seconds we exited onto Deck 7. I then followed him outside.
“I was here only a few hours ago, taking in the sea air,” I remarked, thinking of the kiss I had shared with Mark.
Chris seemed to read my mind and gave me a saucy look. “Is that what you call it?”
My eyes threw daggers at him. “Oh, shut up!”
We made our way toward the stern of the ship where a group of men stood around something on the ground. When we reached them, I saw the “something” was a body lying face down with blood pooled around his head.
The South Pacific Murders Page 12