Death on the Diversion

by Patricia McLinn

  “You don’t mind me talking to them even after they said you’re too nosy?”

  “I’m thrilled they talked to you. What did they say?”

  “What they said tonight or…?”

  “Anything relevant. Anytime.”

  “Did you know Maya was an athlete in college? A couple days before you, uh, found Leah, I was sitting with them while you were in the pool — you really should be careful about how much sun you get. Odette tried to get her to go with to the fitness center. Maya said there was too good a chance she’d see Leah, who’d gone for a steam. Odette said she shouldn’t let Leah keep her from being as powerful and fit as she was in college. Then Maya said she could still do what she needed to, even if she was carrying extra weight. Then Ralph said he loved every bit of her and Odette said of course he did and Maya was beautiful and Maya cried. But Ralph teased her about carrying the dog and by the end he had her laughing.”

  She sighed. I suspected Petronella envied Maya the attentive and protective Ralph. Which raised the question of how far he’d go to protect his current wife from his ex-wife.

  Keeping the focus on Maya, I asked, “What about her carrying a dog?”

  “Maya said she picked up her dog and carried him to the car when he got hurt. A huge dog.”

  “Recently?”

  “Since she and Ralph married, because he was talking about it, too.”

  She looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to make the connection. “So if she could carry a big dog, she could have carried Leah.”

  “I thought, maybe… But if I’m wrong—”

  “You’re not. Good job, Petronella.”

  Three people from that group, three possibilities. We hadn’t yet discussed the final member. Odette.

  As if she’d heard my thought, Petronella said, “There must be other people who might have done this horrible thing.”

  “Along with Badar, the guy they’re zeroing in on, there are several nice, young crew members you like who have to be considered.”

  She looked uncertain, torn between passengers she knew and “nice young people” being a murderer.

  “You mean like the boy who plays the guitar and the girl who plays the violin?”

  “Yes, I do.” I’d mentioned them to Edgars and Henri, but hadn’t found out anything beyond Constantine giving Pyorte an alibi. Although that left Anya unaccounted for, not to mention being in the hallway near Leah’s cabin the next morning. And in tears.

  On the other hand, Leah was already dead and in the deck chair hours before I saw Anya in the corridor. No apparent blood on her. Definitely not in possession of Leah’s cane. But could she have been trying to retrieve something incriminating from Leah’s cabin? If so, the authorities hadn’t found it.

  Or.

  They had and they hadn’t mentioned it to me.

  “What made you think of them?” I asked Petronella.

  “The scene in the hallway.”

  I blinked. She’d seen Anya that morning and hadn’t mentioned it? “Scene in the hallway?”

  She looked confused for a moment. “Oh. You weren’t there. It was when I went to the ladies’ room after they played in the Atrium. The sloe gin fizz went right—”

  “The scene?”

  “The boy — young man, I suppose I should say, though where the line is these days—”

  “The guitarist?”

  “Right. Him. He was sort of in a corner, holding his guitar in front of him and Leah was right up against it, pressing it into him. I couldn’t have been comfortable for him at all. Leah was talking a mile a minute, real low, so you couldn’t hear the words, but the poor boy — young man — was red as a beet. Then the girl came with her violin. She put the bow right in front of Leah’s face and Leah kind of screeched.”

  “Then what?”

  “I went in the ladies’ room.” Reading my expression, she said, “I suppose you wish I’d seen how it ended? I’m sorry, Sheila. I’m really sorry. It’s those sloe gin fizzes. They just go right through—”

  “Okay. I know. You certainly added more information. That’s very helpful.”

  “I, uh … Would other information about Leah be helpful? Would you want to hear if—?”

  “Yes, I want to hear.”

  “It was a little thing. Nothing really.”

  Holding onto my patience, I repeated, “I want to hear.”

  “It was the day after Coral came back on board. I wanted to ask her if she was truly all right. But she was with her friends and Leah was there. I waited a bit to see if I’d have a chance without interrupting, but Leah said something about now you see what I’m capable of and I haven’t forgotten last year. Coral was really angry and almost pushed her and said something about crazy old lady. Leah laughed and left, but after that, I could see Coral wasn’t in a good mood and I didn’t want to go up to them, so I never talked to her.”

  Now you see what I’m capable of.

  I haven’t forgotten last year.

  Interesting. Didn’t make sense … I added a mental and hopeful, Not yet.

  It turned out Petronella had another sloe gin fizz with Maya and Ralph in the bar and couldn’t possibly use the bathroom in my cabin.

  I escorted her to the door to make sure she got to her cabin without being lurched off her feet.

  “Good sleuthing, Petronella,” I said as she walked out.

  She flushed.

  Her path didn’t even waver. She must have been a sailor in a past life.

  As I closed the door, I realized something else, and said a soft, “Good for you,” under my breath.

  In this whole conversation she hadn’t once said, “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  With the movement of the ship, I slept and woke. Not sure when I dreamed, when I remembered, when I imagined.

  Leah pointing her cane at the German woman.

  Anya crying in the corridor.

  The lyrics to The Fields of Athenry.

  Maya, no longer teary, on the attack at the hot tub. Ralph, ever protective of her.

  Coral pushing Piper into the windows and Imka’s hold on Piper.

  T-bar and errand chase sonar. You and me theme and Cheese Mary now.

  Aunt Kit saying, Stop making words. Say the sounds. Let go of the words and say the sounds over and over.

  Wardham coming out of Odette’s room.

  The Valkyries in formation sweeping into the spa.

  The German woman sneering at Leah.

  The vitriol of Leah’s reviewer persona.

  Pyorte’s hunted expression.

  The voices from the Atrium bar.

  Leah, cane overhead, as if to strike Badar.

  I woke with a start, thinking it was the middle of the night.

  The clock said otherwise. I stumbled toward the curtains, opening them to milky light. The ocean didn’t look as rough as last night. The ship felt calmer than during the night, too.

  But no calm waters ahead for Badar.

  He was out of time. When we arrived in the Bahamas in a few hours, he’d be turned over to the authorities as the only suspect.

  * * * *

  After room service breakfast, I was on my balcony, taking a break from looking — again — at the notes by watching the still active ocean when my cell phone rang. I hadn’t heard the sound since we left Barcelona.

  Aunt Kit.

  “Your mother called me—”

  “Mom? Why did she call you? Is everything okay?”

  She snorted. “Everything’s fine. She called me because she doesn’t want you to pay roaming charges, even though I’ve told her more than once how much money you have.”

  “You don’t care about roaming charges?”

  “I wouldn’t care about them under these circumstances even if you were a pauper. I certainly don’t now. Besides, my motivation is stronger than your mother’s. She is merely over the moon that you wrote to them about possibly moving back to their part of the coun
try—” The internet must have connected at some point and sent my pending emails. “—while I want to hear everything about this murder and your investigation.”

  “My investigation? That’s not—”

  “No false modesty. Besides, better to be prepared. If word gets out the author of Abandon All solved a murder…”

  I groaned.

  “Never mind that now, tell me everything.”

  “First, I have to tell you it’s too late.”

  “What do you mean it’s too late?”

  “We’re stopping in the Bahamas today. The ship’s Chief Security Officer will hand over a young crew member as the only suspect and I don’t think they’ll investigate anymore.”

  “Is this young crew member innocent?”

  “Not necessarily. But there are several other people with as much evidence against them as there is against him. I’m afraid he’s convenient.”

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “I am,” I realized. “I think I expected better of Edgars, the Chief Security Officer.”

  “Hmm. Let’s get back to telling me everything.”

  I did.

  At the end, I added, “I’ve been trying to treat it the way we would in a session at the brownstone. Thinking my way logically through and—”

  “What’s bothering you?” she interrupted.

  “You mean other than a woman being murdered and me finding the body and having a sweet young woman putting all her faith in my getting her boyfriend off when he’s turned over to the authorities today?”

  “Yes, other than that. There’s something gnawing at you. What?”

  Saying nothing was a waste of time. She was almost always right about these things.

  “It doesn’t make any sense—”

  “Good. In fact, excellent. What is it?”

  “Early on, I overhead some people talking from another deck and with the wind and me drifting asleep, the last part made no sense. Like nonsense syllables. But I can’t get them out of my head. See, I told you it doesn’t make sense.”

  “What are the syllables?”

  “T-bar and errand chase sonar. You and me theme and cheese Mary now.” My immediate recall surprised me. “But as I said, it’s nonsense.”

  “The words you created from the sounds make no sense. Stop making words. Say the sounds. Let go of the words and say the sounds over and over. Then see—”

  A crisp knock sounded at my door. Not Eristo’s polite restraint.

  “Someone’s at the door, Kit.”

  “Okay. Call me when you can, never mind the roaming charges. And plan a good long talk about this after. Are you taking notes?”

  More knocking.

  “I haven’t— I have to go, Kit.” Before the knocker became even more insistent. “I’ll call.”

  I fumbled to turn off my phone as I opened the door to Catherine.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  She moved past me, leaving me at the door. “Close it, close it. Did you hear?”

  Since my answer to that question from her was always no because she heard things first, I said, “What?”

  “We’re not stopping in the Bahamas.”

  “What? Really?”

  “The official reason is the weather’s too windy—”

  “But it’s better.”

  “Because we sailed away from the rough weather overnight. We’re well away from the Bahamas right now. Anyway, the official reason is it wasn’t safe to use the tender to get us to the beach—”

  “Oh, my God, the tender.”

  That sneaky, sneaky Edgars.

  We, however, shall be turning him over to the authorities at the first place we dock.

  He’d said that to make me think Badar would be dropped in the Bahamas as the culprit while they washed their hands of him and the investigation, the entire time knowing the Diversion wouldn’t dock until Tampa.

  “—but the rumor is it’s even more because the Bahamas don’t want this investigation. Oh, my God, the tender what?”

  “I think you might be right. Or the cruise officials don’t want to hand the investigation over to them.” I told her what Edgars said. “But we were never going to dock. Because they use the tender to transport passengers to that beach. Why give me a song and dance about it?” I shook my head. “Never mind. If they’re not taking Badar off, we have time — some time.”

  “Not we. You, Sheila.”

  “No, definitely we. Lots of we. You should have heard Petronella last night. She was helping me sort out the possible suspects, plus adding observations. And all the information you’ve brought?” I gestured for her to sit on the couch. “Let’s think this through, starting with the basics. Means, motive—”

  “How much time do you have? The list could cover everyone on the ship.”

  I acknowledged that with a grimace.

  “—opportunity. Means is probably her own cane, which—”

  “Now that’s something I didn’t know.”

  “I overheard the doctor after I found her. He said there was a skin tear—” I hadn’t mentioned the blood on my finger to anyone beyond the ship officials. “—but it probably happened when someone did the same damage as strangling would, by putting something hard and round across her throat.”

  “Nasty.”

  “How much strength would that take?” I asked rhetorically. “She was small and not strong, but people don’t die from strangling or this version of it in a few seconds. It had to be someone strong enough to control her. Plus, they haven’t found her cane. Not anywhere.”

  “There’s an argument, the murderer takes her cane away, and uses it against her?”

  “Mmm-hmm. Then wraps her in towels and carries her to the chair. Presumably because they didn’t want an examination of where the murder occurred. But why that spot? You know, that video took a lot of work to get it improved to the point it could be called awful. But other shots I saw running in the room were quite clear.”

  Her eyebrows went up. “Someone fooled with the video?”

  “They wouldn’t have to. That spot has lousy lighting. Especially at night. I think it was chosen for that reason. And, think about this, Catherine, if Edgars had clear video from anywhere else in the ship, like where she was killed or of the murderer carrying her, he’d use it to make an identification.”

  “Meaning nothing else shows on video?”

  “Exactly. Which means the person knew where the security cameras covered and where they didn’t.”

  “My, oh, my.”

  “So, who knows where the security cameras covers?”

  “The head of security,” she said immediately. I almost wished… She quickly went on, “Truly, I’d say most of the crew, if not all. They’re human. Surely things go on they don’t want known.”

  “Makes sense. And they’d learn and share with each other.”

  “They would. Repeat passengers, as well, learning and sharing. I’ve heard a frequent cruiser in his cups tell another how to get from one cabin to another without anyone the wiser. I couldn’t repeat it now, but there are some who could trace the path.”

  She’d confirmed my speculations. Unfortunately, it didn’t eliminate any of the possibilities listed on my notes. “I have another question for you, cruise expert that you are. Why would Badar and a bartender be nervous about people knowing the guitarist, Pyorte, was in their room?”

  “A bartender? That numpty, Jason?”

  “That—? Never mind. I can tell from your tone.” Though I hate to think too badly of someone who served me Veuve Clicquot.

  “It’s not crude,” she said in mock indignation.

  “Too bad. What do you know about him?”

  She hitched a shoulder. “That I’d swear an oath to?”

  “Between us.”

  “He’s known multiple female passengers in the biblical sense, no matter the rule against fraternizing between crew and guests. He pursues them. None worry about a budget.”

  I remem
bered his exchange of looks with the Valkyrie named Piper. Was something going on there as well as with the redhead? I wouldn’t have said it was sexual. Or… not only sexual. There’d definitely been communication in it. But then there’d been his attention to the redhead.

  Hold on to that for later.

  “The bartender I meant wasn’t Jason. It’s a young guy. Nice. At the poolside bar.”

  “Constantine.”

  Of course she knew who I meant. “Yes. Why would he be worried? Him, Badar, and Pyorte. None were fraternizing with passengers.” If anything, Pyorte did his darnedest not to fraternize with Leah.

  “There are other rules they could be breaking.”

  Our gazes met.

  She shrugged. “They have crew bars with drinks for considerably less than we pay, but some might want something else.”

  “Could be. But what other rules are possible?”

  “Safety, health, politeness, no side jobs, though tips—”

  “Side jobs?”

  “They work for the cruise line. They’re not to work another job.”

  I raised one “ah-hah” finger. “I wonder…”

  Before I could voice my wondering, the PA system came to life.

  The captain told us what I already knew thanks to Catherine — the Diversion wouldn’t stop until we reached Tampa. Out of concern for the safety of the passengers.

  The windy weather made use of the tender to reach the Bahama beach unsafe.

  Catherine looked at me questioningly. I might have ground my teeth at the mention of the tender.

  Was I making too much of myself to wonder if Edgars meant to turn the heat up on me like I was one of Odette’s frogs?

  Oh.

  Frogs.

  What if one of the frogs, did notice as it got hotter and hotter? What would it do? Especially if it had the means to strike down the person turning up the temperature?

  Before exploring that, I had other important elements to pin down. Like my latest earworm.

  * * * *

  I made a dash to the spa. Imka wasn’t there. Under the disapproving frown of the receptionist, I asked her friend, Bennie, a handful of questions.

  Then, I spent considerable time on my balcony, repeating the nonsense syllables —sounds — over and over. Hoping the wind would reorder them to somehow make sense.