The South Pacific Murders

by Sylvia Massara

  “Yes, ma’am.” He gave me a suggestive look, which said a thousand things, but he managed to control himself.

  ~~~

  “Today, I’ll get you guys to do the three to eleven shift,” Garcia informed Dobbs, Smythe and me at the debrief. “I’ll take the graveyard.”

  “Any news?” Smythe enquired.

  “Nothing. But I don’t expect such quick results. For all we know, the killer may not yet have heard about Enrico’s exploits,” Garcia answered. “Today might be different, though.”

  “Well, I hope so,” I interjected, “because we have another day and night at sea after this one, and then we reach Honolulu.”

  We looked at one another in silence, all of us knowing that when we reached Honolulu the killer would certainly make his escape. For one, I didn’t believe he was going to get to all the others on the ship. If anything, he’d probably get to them on land when we all went home. This made me remark, “You know, you have to wonder why the killer waited this long to get to everybody. Why now; why on the ship?”

  Smythe answered, “Who’s to say he waited? He may have left a trail of dead bodies back home that we haven’t heard about yet.”

  The thought was sobering.

  Garcia went on to cover a few other issues, and within thirty minutes we were out of the room.

  “Let’s meet for a late lunch and then go on shift,” Dobbs suggested.

  I nodded and turned to Smythe. “Anything from Chris yet?”

  “He said something about finally having found the server he was after. Now, he’s trying to break into it.”

  This raised my spirits a little. “Excellent. I’m off to snooze some more. I’ll see you guys at lunch.”

  I didn’t know whether Dobbs and Smythe needed to grab more sleep or not, but the moment my head hit the pillow, I was gone. It was amazing how working a graveyard shift mucked up one’s biological clock.

  I slept right through until a knock on my door woke me and Smythe’s voice called out, “Mia, lunchtime!”

  We had lunch at the Deck Grill with Chris, who was bubbling with excitement.

  “I’m getting really close now. I finally found the right server, so it’s a matter of cross-referencing the log-in times and dates and I should be able to ID her.”

  “That’s great, Chris,” Smythe praised him.

  “Yeah, you should get a medal for this,” I agreed. “If it weren’t for your work, we’d never have come this far.”

  “I concur,” Dobbs added with cheeseburger in hand.

  Chris blushed. “Thank you, but it wasn’t just me. Mia was the one who figured out the way to the cheaters’ site. If she hadn’t done that, we’d still be chasing our tails.”

  The other two did not deny it, and Smythe threw me a secret smile. Then, he glanced at his watch. “Almost two-thirty,” he announced. “Let’s get ready to relieve the morning team.”

  We left Chris to finish his lunch and while Dobbs and Smythe went to retrieve their weapons from the security office, I changed into my cargo pants and T-shirt. Later, we met up with Enrico by the pool. The morning team left us and we hung around, sitting at different tables and having a cool drink or pretending to read while we kept an eye on Enrico, who was sunbathing. No one approached him, nor did we see anything suspicious.

  After this, we were forced to hang around the stateroom while Enrico took a shower and a nap. Dobbs and Smythe played poker while I flicked through a glossy magazine, bored to tears.

  Later, we dined at the buffet restaurant while Enrico and a ‘friend’ sat at a couple of tables away from us chatting and laughing every few seconds.

  “If someone doesn’t kill him soon, I will,” Dobbs said through clenched teeth. “Who does he think he is; a pop diva? That we should have to hang around while he sunbathes or has dinner with one of his lovers. This is unacceptable!”

  Smythe and I exchanged a glance before I said, “Hang in there, Dobbs. Only one more day and night and we reach Honolulu.”

  He sighed with frustration, but said nothing.

  After dinner, Enrico and his boyfriend went for a stroll on Deck 13, which looked rather dark and deserted. Dobbs, Smythe and I held back at a fair distance in order not to look too obvious.

  Dobbs complained again. “Great! He picks the darkest place, knowing the killer could shoot him from a distance.”

  Smythe and I remained silent. No good feeding Dobbs’s frustration. Meanwhile, I turned to look down on Deck 12 through the stairwell rail. A movie was playing on a giant plasma screen, located high above the swimming pool. This was pretty much the only light we had, which filtered up to Deck 13.

  We sat on the top steps of the stairwell leading to Deck 13 for ages, hoping Enrico would hurry up and stop making out with his boyfriend. I could just see the two figures engaged in a tight embrace and two heads coming together. I looked away. Then, I tensed.

  My thigh happened to be touching Smythe’s as we sat on the same step and he felt it go tense, along with the rest of me. “What is it?” he whispered.

  “I think we’ve got company,” I said in a low voice, enough for Dobbs and Smythe to hear. I pointed toward the stairwell on the other side of the deck, which also led up to Deck 13 from the deck below. A figure was climbing the stairs slowly in the dark.

  Smythe patted my shoulder. “You stay here, Mia. And don’t move.”

  I nodded.

  “Ready?” Smythe said to Dobbs.

  They drew out their Glocks and carefully began to move along Deck 13 and toward the figure, keeping low and out of sight.

  The figure was definitely that of a male, similar in build to the killer’s. This could be him. I took a peek over the steps and observed the person walking toward Enrico and his friend. I suddenly felt like screaming out a warning to him, but this would alert the man who was now rapidly making his way in Enrico’s direction with something bulky in his hand.

  With my heart in my mouth, I watched as the figure advanced. Then, when he was around twenty feet away from the embracing pair, I saw Dobbs and Smythe appear a few feet behind the figure.

  “Stop right there!” Smythe suddenly called out, both his and Dobbs’s guns pointed at him.

  In that same instant, the movie ended and the credits scrolled on the screen in black letters against a white background; and with the light emitted from the screen, Deck 13 became clearly visible to everyone.

  Dobbs and Smythe quickly put their guns down as Enrico broke away from his lover’s embrace and ran toward the figure, which turned out to be that of a young crewmember holding a bottle of champagne in one hand and three glasses in the other.

  “Darling Zane! We thought you’d never make it!” Enrico called out before he hugged the young man. Then, he turned to Smythe. “It’s okay, he’s one of us.”

  Luckily, no one on Deck 12 saw the commotion; and Dobbs and Smythe drew away quietly. As they came closer to me, I noticed the expression on their faces and thought, if only looks could kill.

  Chapter 23

  The next day was our last at sea before we were due to sail into Honolulu on the following morning. After a deep sleep as a result of the previous night’s excitement, Smythe, Dobbs, and I met up for a late breakfast. I checked with Chris in case he wanted to join us, but he’d been up for hours and on a real roll so he ordered his meal through room service.

  We sat in the outdoor area of the buffet restaurant that was practically empty as most people had eaten by now. Dobbs was making his way through a huge ham and mushroom omelette while I only managed a small portion of scrambled eggs on toast. Smythe had the whole works including Italian sausage and grilled Roma tomatoes. All of us drank from mugs of strong coffee.

  “What shift are we on today?” I asked, knowing Smythe had just come back from meeting with Garcia.

  “Same one—three to eleven.”

  “So this is it. If the killer doesn’t make a move tonight, we’ll never know who it is.”

  “We may have to follow t
his up back in Sydney, Mia,” Smythe said. “Assuming the killer resides in Australia, that is.”

  “True,” I remarked. “We don’t even know where he’s from. I remember Enrico telling me the convention has doctors from all over the place including the US, Canada, South Africa, and even India.”

  “Well, after this trip I’m not going anywhere else to chase up some demented killer,” Dobbs chimed in. “I need a real holiday. Besides, the minute we put into Hawaii this ceases to be our job.”

  I frowned. “But after all we’ve been through it isn’t fair to come away with an unsolved crime.”

  Dobbs said, “And you wanted to be a cop. I think Phil will agree with me when I say being a cop is often a thankless task, even if you catch the criminal. Half the time, they get a fancy lawyer who gets them off on a technicality and all the hard work you put in gets flushed down the toilet.”

  “Ouch!” I uttered. “Talk about cynicism, Dobbs.”

  “Hey, I spent enough years on the force to see this time and again. So did your father, and so does Phil.”

  I turned to Smythe, only to see him nod. “He’s right, you know.”

  “Well,” I stated, “I still would’ve liked to have had the option to experience life as a cop.”

  “Trust me,” commented Dobbs with a full fork halfway to his mouth, “you’re not missing out on anything special.”

  I rolled my eyes and decided to drop the subject. I really couldn’t work out what was wrong with Dobbs these days. Perhaps, he was simply getting old. He was in his early sixties and obviously looking forward to retirement and being able to spend more time with his granddaughter in Hawaii. I was sure if David Rourke ended up opening a hotel in Honolulu, Dobbs would transfer there like a shot. The hotel on the Big Island was not practical enough for him, but based in his hometown, and near his daughter and granddaughter, would be ideal.

  I sighed. If this went ahead and Dobbs transferred, I was going to miss him. He was like family to me—the only family I had since the death of my father. Of course, I still had Chris, who was like my son; and now, Smythe—well, at least as a friend. Beyond this, I couldn’t think further.

  I stole a quick peek his way while he ate and felt the blood rush to my face. The physical attraction between us was electrifying, but then I’d thought the same thing about David Rourke years ago; and later with Nathan, the evil ex. Sexual attraction was one thing, but living day in, day out with someone was quite another. After Nathan, I could never trust another man nor did I think I could survive another betrayal.

  Smythe must’ve picked up on my vibes because he turned his gaze my way and threw me a warm smile that made me want to melt. And I thought hormones went out the window with approaching menopause. Boy, was I wrong!

  ~~~

  We were back on shift at three and by eight that evening I’d had enough. I was fed up with watching Enrico flirting with his lover over dinner while we played nursemaid to him.

  “I need some fresh air,” I announced to my companions as I stood from the dining table. “I’ll go for a quick walk and then check on how Chris is progressing. Do you mind if we meet in one hour?”

  Smythe hesitated, and I knew he wanted to accompany me, but his duty lay in keeping an eye on Enrico. “Meet us back here,” he said instead. “The way Enrico’s going, he’ll probably still be dining until ten.”

  Dobbs frowned. “Not if I shoot him first.”

  I threw him a smile. “Grumpy, grumpy!” I said and walked off with a wave.

  The Promenade Deck was deserted when I went out and leaned at the rail to gaze into the night. We had a half moon, and in the silver light the ocean looked absolutely magic. I fleetingly wished Smythe was here with me. More and more, I felt my defences against him begin to crumble. I sighed. So what if the romance didn’t keep going in our day-to-day lives? I could risk my heart once again. I’d survived hurt and betrayal before. I was older and tougher these days. Besides, if things didn’t work out, I could always ask David for a transfer to another country—maybe even join Dobbs in Hawaii.

  In my mind’s eye, I flashed back to the night Smythe and I made love. It had been so intense that I now couldn’t imagine going back to the humdrum life I’d been living since the break up of my marriage. Granted, I’d had a fling in between, but that meant nothing.

  A door opened at one end of the deck, interrupting my thoughts, and I looked up. It was a young couple holding hands and occasionally exchanging a kiss. They strolled slowly past me, wishing me a good evening. I returned the greeting, and they walked the length of the deck and went back inside through another door at the other end. I was left alone with my thoughts once again, but I didn’t want to revisit my feelings for Smythe. It was time to check on Chris and then return to my post.

  I turned and walked in the same direction the couple had taken, but before I could reach the door it opened, and a man came out. I almost called out to him but stopped myself just in time, even though he’d already seen me and started to make his way in my direction.

  Something wasn’t right. The figure approaching me was that of someone fit and only a few years older than I. His steps were strong and sure. His face was the same. His eyes looked directly into mine, but there was no smile in them—only something tantamount to enmity.

  My heart leapt to my throat as he lifted his walking stick to reveal a six-inch steel pick protruding from its end. Professor Tully did not need a stick to walk; he did not have arthritis, and he certainly wasn’t in his sixties or seventies, as I had originally thought. He also had the exact gait of the killer—he was the killer.

  “It was you all along!” I accused despite the cold fear permeating my body. “But why?” I was so surprised at his transformation that it never occurred to me to run in the opposite direction to make my escape.

  He stopped a few feet away from me and uttered with venom in his voice, “Because she was a filthy slut! But she got what she deserved in the end.”

  I noted the ominous look on his face and realised he’d killed his own wife. He knew what I was thinking.

  “Yes, I killer her,” he confessed. “She betrayed me for thirty years. Yet, every day I was with her she acted the part of the perfect wife. But she was a sick depraved sex addict, and she couldn’t help herself. If it had pants, she had to fuck it.” He shook his head in disgust. “I think I must’ve been the only one who had normal sex with her, and she found it ‘boring’; or so she said in one of her posts from that filthy forum she belonged to.”

  “You knew about the cheaters’ club?”

  “I knew everything: the personal ads she answered during the days before the internet, the online dating, the cheaters’ forum, how she sneaked off to rut like a whore while on the pretext of taking tango lessons. I certainly knew everything!” His voice dripped pure hatred. “But she was careless, my beautiful Eden, and she was foolish enough to keep a diary, thinking I’d never find it.”

  I started to take minute steps backwards because I knew I was going to have to make a run for it, but at the same time I was mesmerised by this man—this killer, who meted out his own brand of punishment because his wife had betrayed him through their whole marriage. I could understand how it had pushed him over the edge. This happened all the time to people who were betrayed by those they thought loved them in return. Only not everyone acted on their hurt and anger; at least, not like Tully.

  “But why put up with so many years of betrayal?” I asked; both wanting to know and also to keep him distracted while I took those miniscule steps in preparation for my escape.

  “Because despite what she was, I loved her—and I lived in the hope she’d come forward and confess. I would have forgiven her anything, you know.” For a moment, he rubbed at his eyes, in the process lifting his glasses; and I took another small step backward. Then, he continued, his voice full of anger. “But day in, day out, she lived her fantasies with these men—even gay ones like that dirty faggot, Enrico! I didn’t know about him, but
I heard the rumours yesterday.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it. “What makes a prostitute like her want it up the arse?” His savage tone made me jump and I knew any moment now he would snap and lunge at me.

  “Why did you say you had arthritis?” I knew the answer to this, of course; but I had to say something to divert him from his venomous thoughts, if only for a few seconds.

  “It lulled her into a false sense of security while I started to hunt down her lovers. The arthritis gave me the perfect excuse to slow down and give up my medical practice. This way, I had more time on my hands.” He threw me a knowing look. “Yes, I know you probably worked out by now this cruise isn’t the beginning of my mission of revenge. The whole thing started after I killed her last year. I stabbed her through her black cheating heart with this very walking stick that I’m now going to use on you!”

  I was still in time to make a run for it, but I had to know more. “What did I ever do?” I couldn’t help sounding resentful. “I was nice to you, damn it!”

  He looked me up and down, taking in my cargo pants and tight T-shirt that stretched across my chest, accentuating the shape of my breasts. “You’re a slut, too,” he spat out. “I’ve seen you on this very deck, first exchanging kisses with that officer and later with one of your travelling companions. You’re a whore like the rest of them!”

  “Hey!” For a moment, I didn’t care about his threat to kill me; walking stick or no walking stick. “At least I didn’t cheat on anybody! If anything, my own ex cheated on me!” What the hell was I doing arguing with a killer? I came to my senses abruptly. The guy was out of his mind. He wasn’t going to respond to reason. I took another small step back, but this time he noticed.

  “You’re not going to get away from me, you bitch! If it hadn’t been for you and your friends, I would’ve been able to finish off the job right here on the ship. But you had to stick your nose where it wasn’t wanted, and now you’re going to pay.”