The South Pacific Murders

by Sylvia Massara

  Seeing as I knew Enrico best, I asked the first question. “Why didn’t you tell us about Neurotic Erotics?”

  Enrico had the good grace to look ashamed. “I’m sorry about that.” He sounded genuine. “I wasn’t sure until I put two and two together.” He threw me a pleading look. “I was going to tell you all about it, Mia. But then, when you suggested I be the bait to flush out the killer, I thought it was a great idea. I didn’t want to upset the other members by having you”—he swept both arms in a gesture to encompass all of us around the table—“asking a whole bunch of personal questions of them.”

  Smythe stated firmly, “So you simply let the murderer run around the ship, killing whoever he wants, and you turn it into a game of ‘who’s next’!”

  Enrico looked down at his hands, which he’d placed on his lap. “It wasn’t like that. When I realised what was happening, I was going to tell you.”

  “Do you know who the killer is?” Garcia leaned forward, his face serious.

  Enrico sat back in his chair as if afraid. He undoubtedly felt cornered by all of us shooting questions at him. “No, I don’t know. I don’t understand the connection. Why is the killer after members of the forum?”

  “We think it’s a revenge thing,” I answered, knowing for sure Enrico couldn’t possibly be the killer. “What do you know about someone called Erotic Heart?”

  He gave me a confused look. “Who?”

  I sighed. “Good God, Enrico, you had sex with her!”

  He cleared his throat and looked down at his hands again. “I did? When?”

  Chris had told us the posts he found linking Deep Throat and Erotic Heart were five years old. “Sometime in 2008 or thereabouts.”

  Enrico’s eyes flashed annoyance as he gazed at me. “How should I know who I saw back then? I happen to have a very busy sex life, you know! Besides, the club takes discretion very seriously. A lot of us wear a disguise if we don’t want others to know who we really are. After all, we’re all part of the medical community and we’d probably recognise each other.”

  “So you’re expecting us to believe you had sex with a woman who was probably disguised as a man?” Dobbs stared at him with disbelief in his eyes.

  Enrico shrugged. “I’m not into women generally. But if some woman dresses as a man, and takes it like one; who am I to argue?”

  I felt like wringing his little gay neck for once. He made sex sound so cheap and sordid. But in his world, it obviously was. We were getting nowhere with him, and Erotic Heart’s identity still remained a mystery. “Okay,” I said, trying to control my temper, “can you at least provide us with a list of usernames of people in the forum who might also be on this ship?”

  Enrico nodded. “There aren’t many—only the ones I know really well. Remember, discretion is the key to our club.”

  “Officer Garcia, can you get some paper and a pen?” I asked. “We’ll give Enrico a few minutes to write whatever names he knows. I say we reconvene in about ten minutes.”

  The others agreed, and while Garcia went in search of pen and paper, the rest of us moved into another office and waited until Garcia rejoined us.

  “He’s writing something,” Garcia reported when he returned. “Not sure if it’ll help, though.”

  Smythe said, “Meanwhile, Mia wants to put together this plan to flush out the killer. Mia?” He turned the floor over to me.

  “Well, seeing as Enrico volunteered to be the bait, and the good news is he’s part of this cheaters’ forum, I say we get him to go around boasting to all who will listen that he made it with someone called Erotic Heart. He can drop a few hot comments about his ‘unforgettable night with her’. You know; something that’ll enrage the killer enough to go after Enrico.”

  There was silence around the table while the men thought for a few moments. Then, Dobbs commented, “So since we don’t know the order of who is next on the killer’s list, you’re going to get Enrico to force his hand.”

  I nodded. “I say it’ll drive the killer crazy to think this gay drama queen made it with his spouse, and he’ll go after him.”

  Smythe concurred. “And I say we have nothing to lose. It may very well force the killer’s hand. Of course, we have to keep surveillance on Enrico twenty-four seven. We can’t risk something happening to him.”

  “I have three men at my disposal in addition to myself,” Garcia offered.

  “Plus there’s Smythe and me,” Dobbs put in.

  “And me, too,” I added.

  “No!” Smythe uttered, turning to me with a protective look in his eyes. “No way am I putting you in the path of the killer. Look at what happened with Downes; the man practically raped you!”

  I felt anger bubble away beneath the surface of my being. Just because we’d shared a night of passion didn’t mean Smythe owned me. “Hey, this was my idea, Smythe! And I’m in, whether you like it or not!”

  Smythe frowned, Dobbs shook his head at my outburst, and Garcia regarded me with admiration. “She’s right, you know,” Garcia said, making the other two turn on him while I smiled.

  “You can’t be serious, Jerry!” Dobbs protested. “I can’t allow Mia to be exposed to danger.”

  Smythe simply fumed, but remained silent.

  Garcia shook his head. “Gentlemen, gentlemen, don’t worry. I didn’t mean for Mia to take on surveillance by herself. There are six men altogether, so we’ll do an eight-hour shift in pairs. Mia will be an extra, and can hang out with you two if you like.”

  Dobbs and Smythe looked mollified at this. “Very well,” Dobbs agreed reluctantly, but not before he got the nod of approval from Smythe.

  I felt like telling them all where to go, but thought it prudent to keep my mouth shut. Better to hang out with Dobbs and Smythe than be left out of the operation altogether.

  “Besides,” Garcia added with a smile, “I have a bit of an arsenal with me. Needless to say, those on shift will be armed.”

  I opened my mouth with the intention of asking if I would be given a weapon, but Smythe’s hand covered my lips as he said, “Don’t even think about it, Ferrari.”

  Chapter 22

  Enrico came up with a list of five names, but I only recognised one of them—Dr Ken Gerard, Joy’s husband, who was known as Sally Pox—yet another of the horse names given to us by Martha Barry. The name led me to wonder whether Gerard had bi-sexual tendencies; either this or he simply liked using a female username. The other four people were unknown to me, but they were all doctors who were onboard. It no longer mattered whether the usernames they utilised were linked to horses or not, what mattered now was that we could warn them, and at the same time entice the killer to go after Enrico.

  We started to discuss the plan with Enrico and were joined by the captain, Mark Evans, and Mike Yuen.

  “Mia,” the captain said upon entering the security office, “Jerry told us about the plan, plus the fact we have another five members onboard that the killer might go for.”

  “Yes, Captain,” I replied. “Aside from Enrico, there are five other doctors who belong to the club. We’re going to focus on Enrico while we try to flush out the killer; but we need to warn the others.”

  “Mark and Mike will handle the other doctors. Plus a few of the crew working under Mark have volunteered to keep these people under surveillance while you and your group work with Enrico.”

  I gave the captain a look of gratitude. “That’s great, thank you.” I then turned to Mark and Mike. “This is excellent news, guys. We need all the help we can get.”

  Dobbs and Smythe nodded their thanks, too. “Great to have you join the team,” Smythe said.

  I noticed Enrico pout while the others talked in general about our surveillance plan. “Don’t worry, Enrico,” I whispered in his ear, “you also have our special thanks.”

  Enrico didn’t look too happy about not being recognised by the group, but he would have to live with it for having withheld information earlier.

  “We’ll brief
you in a while on the other five members,” Garcia was saying to Mark and Mike. “First, we need to finish up here.”

  The captain and his officers withdrew and we turned back to Enrico.

  “Now,” Smythe spoke, “your job is to boast to members of the convention about your experience with Erotic Heart. Just don’t go over the top, but drop as many hints as you can.”

  Enrico nodded, looking none too happy.

  “We’re going to keep you under twenty-four hour surveillance in case the killer comes after you,” Garcia informed him.

  This sparked off a reaction of indignation from Enrico. “What; even when I sleep?”

  Garcia nodded. “Even when you sleep. This is why we’re moving you to a stateroom, so your surveillance team can stay in the lounge room and give you privacy while you sleep.”

  “Can I have company?” Enrico had the nerve to ask.

  I glared at him. “Keep your dick in your pants for once, Enrico. This is a serious matter. The last thing we need is to babysit two of you while you’re going at it!”

  Enrico seemed to shrink at my threatening manner and said nothing. I felt like hitting him over his ungrateful head.

  “Okay,” Garcia continued with a look of amusement my way. “I’ll take Enrico so we can relocate him to the new room. Then, I’ll meet you with Mark and Mike to discuss surveillance for the other five doctors.”

  Garcia motioned Enrico out of the office and Dobbs exploded when the door shut behind them. “We should let the killer get to that little mincing poof after all! He deserves it for being such an asshole!” Dobbs’s American accent never failed to become more pronounced when he was angry, and I couldn’t help laughing.

  “Now, you don’t mean that, Dobbs. Our business is to save lives,” I teased.

  “Hey, Ferrari, you were ready to clobber him over the head just now,” he protested, looking agitated.

  “Yes, but I wouldn’t have killed him off. We need him too much.”

  “I’m off to grab a coffee,” Dobbs announced grumpily. “I’ll see you guys in a while.”

  Smythe laughed after Dobbs exited the room. “You two are so funny. Is this how you work at the hotel when you come up against a big drama?”

  “It’s usually me who loses her temper and Dobbs who calms me down. But I say in this instance, Dobbs has had enough. This killing spree’s been too much for all of us. I think Rourke and Teppler owe us a real holiday after this is over.”

  “You can say that again,” Smythe agreed. “In the meantime, I came up with my own way to calm you down.”

  His mouth took mine in a kiss that melted my limbs and left me clinging to him. Even so, I managed to break away and throw him a stern look.

  Before I could speak, he said, “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help myself.”

  I took a couple of steps back to put some distance between us. “You promised we’d be friends, Smythe. Friends don’t kiss each other like this.” Then, I added with an impish look as I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, “Besides, that kiss did nothing to calm me down. If anything, it had the opposite effect.”

  He beamed at the latter part of my admonishment, but then said, “I know. I know. I lost my head.”

  He looked forlorn when he apologised, and I wanted to take him into my arms and soothe him. But someone had to harden their heart—and it was going to be me. Thank God women were stronger and more practical than men.

  ~~~

  Before the meeting with Mark Evans and his men, I ran down to check on Chris.

  “Nothing as yet,” he reported after I told him Enrico didn’t remember anything about Erotic Heart. “But don’t worry, I’ll keep trying.”

  “I hope you can find something soon. It’ll make it so much easier than trying to flush out the killer.”

  Chris glanced up from the laptop screen. “Yeah, but Mia, even if I do get an ID on Erotic Heart, it won’t tell us who the spouse is unless the account is under joint names or just in his name.”

  I shrugged. “True. In any case, it would help to know.”

  Chris turned back to the computer. “I’m on it.”

  I left him to it and made my way back to the security office where the meeting was already in progress. Just as I walked in, Garcia was writing shift times on a whiteboard for both our surveillance group and the one Mark Evans would be heading.

  “The first shift commences today at 3.00pm for both groups,” Garcia informed us. “Enrico’s going to start dropping hints at lunchtime. The convention members have a group lunch after their morning seminar; so we hope the killer will be among them. I’ll take the first shift with one of my guys; then Phil, Guy, and Mia can do the graveyard shift in Enrico’s stateroom from 11.00pm. You’ll be relieved by two of my guys at 7.00am the following morning.”

  While Garcia discussed the shifts for Mark’s people, I turned to Dobbs, who was sitting next to me, and whispered, “I guess we’ll have to stock up on huge amounts of coffee to stay awake all night.”

  Dobbs beamed at me. “I just thank God we don’t have to listen to Enrico humping away with one of his fairy friends.”

  I grinned and almost laughed aloud. The image that flashed into my mind of Enrico and a male lover was simply too much to bear—the situation in which we found ourselves, too surreal to contemplate. I was quite broadminded when it came to gay men, but I drew the line at having to listen to them going at it.

  After the meeting, Dobbs and Smythe went off with Garcia to be assigned their weapons. I was left out of this macho bonding session but didn’t care for once. I had no real desire to carry a weapon, let alone use one. So I decided to have a light lunch in my room and then catch up on my sleep in preparation for the graveyard shift.

  An hour later, while I was drifting off to sleep, I vaguely heard Dobbs and Smythe going into their respective cabins, possibly to do the same thing. Tonight was going to be boring unless we got some action from the killer. Somehow, I doubted it. I couldn’t see the guy coming up to Enrico’s stateroom to knock on the door. It was already suspicious enough that Enrico had been allocated a new room. I only hoped the killer believed the explanation Enrico would be spinning about this—namely that his bathroom flooded in his old cabin and he was upgraded to a stateroom to compensate for the inconvenience.

  ~~~

  I slept until after seven and then showered and dressed, ready to meet with Dobbs, Smythe and Chris for dinner before we got ready for our first shift. I wore comfortable khaki cargo pants and a black T-shirt, and I felt like some kind of a commando.

  We met at the buffet restaurant and I noticed Dobbs and Smythe were similarly attired. Chris was in his usual shorts and T-shirt.

  “I think we look a bit conspicuous, don’t you?” I remarked to Dobbs.

  Dobbs, who was already tucking into a full plate of lasagna, replied, “We can’t very well turn up in our PJs now, can we?”

  I laughed. “I guess not, even though you’d look so cute in a pair of horsey jammies.”

  His frown was enough to tell me he was not looking forward to babysitting Enrico; therefore, I should stop the teasing.

  As it turned out, our shift wasn’t quite so bad. Dobbs and Smythe played cards most of the night, just as they did at their usual poker night back home. I watched a movie and later read a book. We ordered room service twice: coffee and burgers at around two in the morning and a big breakfast at six. By seven, when we were relieved by Garcia’s men, we were exhausted.

  “Everything okay?” asked one of the security guards.

  Smythe nodded. “Uneventful night. Enrico’s still asleep. Anything to report from Garcia’s shift?”

  The security guard shook his head. “No. All’s been quiet, including the surveillance of the other five doctors. Officer Garcia will be holding a debrief at 10.00am in the security office.”

  “Will do,” Smythe replied.

  We left Enrico’s stateroom and made our way to the Promenade Deck to get a breath of fresh air.


  “Man, that was a long night,” I commented, stretching my arms over my head.

  “That’s what you get for insisting on being part of this team,” Smythe admonished.

  I knew he still wasn’t happy I’d tagged along. “Well, too bad, Smythe. You’re stuck with me.”

  Dobbs frowned at us. “Hey, you two, save the arguments for later. I thought you finally learned to work together.”

  I hid a smile. “It takes time, Dobbs.”

  Smythe winked at me when Dobbs turned away, then said, “So what now?”

  “I’m off to get some shuteye,” Dobbs answered. “Someone knock on my door at nine-thirty so I don’t miss the debrief.” With a wave of his hand, he left us alone.

  “He’s really cranky these days,” Smythe observed.

  “He must miss Eileen,” I remarked. “And wait until she sees how much weight he’s put back on. She’ll positively kill him!”

  Smythe grinned. “Let the poor man enjoy the holiday as much as he can, Mia—even if it means putting on a few pounds.”

  “I know. Dobbs can never resist good food, and he gets really irritated when hungry.”

  We stood for a while in silence, both of us gazing at the horizon. The sky was a light cerulean blue today while the ocean was its usual deep indigo.

  After a few moments, I yawned. “I think I’ll get some shuteye as well. What about you?”

  His eyes danced with wickedness. “Is that an invitation?”

  The look I gave him said it all.

  “Okay, okay. I was only kidding,” he placated me. “Want me to knock on your door for the debrief?”

  “Yes, thanks. And if you don’t mind, please check on Chris when you can. I want to know if he’s made any progress.”