Killer Aboard: A John Otter Novel

by Sean Blaise

  “Who did it? Who killed her?” Smith asked.

  “I don’t know. That is what we have to figure out.”

  “How? We aren’t detectives!” Smith raged.

  “We start with everyone being a suspect and we work back from there. We will only eliminate those that could not have possibly done it. We just need to give the police somewhere to look.”

  “Everyone is a suspect including crew? Of course, one of us didn’t do this,” Bill said.

  “I agree,” Smith chimed in.

  “Well, it’s not up to you. Everyone is a suspect until proven otherwise,” John replied.

  “Including you?” Charlie asked.

  “Including me.”

  “How do we eliminate suspects?” Smith asked.

  “We will get to that. First, we need to get a handle on this ship. The students are still on deck and we need them to get back to the rotation. You’re the ship's counselor Smith what do you suggest? How do we break the news properly?”

  “We have to tell them she is dead. We shouldn’t tell them what we suspect. That will only panic them.”

  “They are going to ask how she died,” Charlie said.

  “Of course, and they will infer, and they will discuss but they won’t know for sure. If they think it's murder, they could turn on each other,” Smith responded.

  “We can’t tell them we are without our communications. It will insight panic,” Bill interjected.

  “We won’t have a choice; they are going to want to call home immediately and they can’t. If we don’t want them to turn on us, we have to level with them about the situation,” Smith said.

  “She’s right,” Charlie said.

  “I disagree. We have no choice but to lie a little. Tell them that a power surge disabled the comms. But under no circumstances does the word murder get out,” John demanded.

  The crew all agreed. John knew this was going to be the toughest news he’d ever had to deliver. John began to climb the stairs of the companionway when Smith pulled his arm, dragging him back to the chart table.

  “Captain, can I have a word in private?”

  John waited for Charlie and Bill to climb the stairs. When they were on deck he turned to Smith, “what is it?”

  Smith looked hesitant. Like she was mulling over how much to tell John.

  “Smith, for God sakes, out with it!”

  “I would normally never divulge this kind of info. I take personal confidentiality very seriously. But it might be relevant to what happened to Jennifer.”

  John waited, trying not to lose his cool again.

  “She asked me for a test yesterday.”

  “A test for what?” John asked confused.

  Smith looked at John and it dawned on him. A pregnancy test.

  “What was the result?”

  Smith shrugged. “I don’t know. I gave her the test as per school policy. I told if her if she needed counseling, I was here for her. But she never came back to me about it. Should we tell Greg?”

  “So, Jennifer was not only killed, but she might also have been pregnant too. This nightmare gets worse and worse.”

  Chapter 39

  John climbed the stairs to the helm like he was a man walking toward the noose at his own execution. He kept thinking about Jennifer. Pregnant? Was that why she was acting strange?

  John didn’t know but he felt a wave of emotion pass over him at the thought of her. She shouldn’t be dead. He should have done more. The waves of regret were beginning to overwhelm him.

  John kept running through his mind what he wanted to say but it all sounded hollow to him. There is no way to make murder sound calming. The stench of death on the ship would be overwhelming.

  He also knew he had to tread a fine line between being honest with the students about their situation, without making them panic. He knew he had to tell two white lies to keep them calm, and he told himself that he was doing it for the greater good. That didn’t mean he felt good about it.

  Leveling with the students completely was what he instinctively wanted to do, but they were still four days from shore, and he couldn’t risk a full-blown riot.

  Smith was now back manning the helm and the students were lined up in a circle around the wheel. Their large orange lifejackets sitting uncomfortably around their necks, which was the standard procedure when the General Alarm was sounded.

  “Count off please,” John ordered.

  “But we just did it,” Jack said.

  John looked at Jack sternly and he began “One.”

  The students repeated their call numbers in order, conspicuously counting over numbers four and eight, representing Monica and Jennifer.

  Everyone was on deck except for Monica, who was hopefully in John’s cabin. If she could get any manner of peace tonight after what she had seen it would be a miracle.

  The wind whipped the students now. Salt spray showered the group every few minutes whenever the ever-increasing seas crashed over Beagle’s bow.

  The ship was still sound if John’s precious cargo no longer was. He swallowed hard and turned back to the group. Before he could even speak Greg asked, “where is Jennifer?”

  “Everyone,” he began. John heard the tremble in his voice and he prayed it was carried away by the high winds before it reached the ears of his students. Now more than ever he needed to be strong. He steeled himself.

  “Jennifer is dead.”

  Instantly shouts of horror erupted from the group. John tried to watch their faces intently seeing if anyone was not surprised. But no one gave any indication of knowledge of the event.

  John watched Greg the most intently, knowing that a staggering percent of murders turn out to be the lover. But Greg looked genuinely horrified at the news. He was in complete shock. He was either the greatest actor in the world or he was just hearing the information for the first time.

  Then, Greg did something odd. He turned toward Jack and flung himself across the helm at him. A flurry of fists rained down on Jack before John managed to drag Greg off him.

  “You son of a bitch! You son of a bitch! I’ll kill you for this!” Greg shouted at Jack who was already spitting out blood from his broken nose.

  Chapter 40

  The crew had managed to separate Greg and Jack. Smith was tending to Jack’s possibly broken nose in the Chart Room. John was sitting across from Greg in the Galley.

  “You mind telling me what the hell that was about?” John asked.

  “I can’t believe she’s dead. How did she die?”

  “Why don’t you tell me?” John asked.

  Greg looked shocked. “What the hell are you talking about? How would I know?”

  “You had a pretty violent reaction when you heard she was dead. You attacked Jack like you knew something. Why did you do that?”

  “I don’t know. He had said some shit and so I assumed,” Greg trailed off as his mind began formulating what to say next.

  Greg felt sure Jack had killed Jennifer to keep her quiet, but he didn’t know how Jennifer had actually died. She could have just as easily have overdosed on her endless collection of pills, for all he knew. He feared he had tipped his hand. He needed to figure out some way to take back his accusation of Jack until he knew more about Jennifer’s death.

  “You assumed Jack was responsible? Why would you assume that? Your group has been thick as thieves this entire trip and suddenly you assault him and threaten to kill him?”

  “I didn’t react well I admit that. I’m in shock. You still haven’t told me how she died.”

  “I don’t know how she died Greg, I’m not a doctor. We discovered her body,” John lied. He hated it but he also knew if Greg knew it was murder, there was no doubt he would finish what he started with Jack.

  “Was it drugs?” Greg asked.

  It was John’s turn to be surprised. “Why would you say that?”

  “She had a drug problem when we met. Did she overdose?”

  “What kind of drug
s?”

  “Pills mostly. Painkillers, antidepressants, you name it. She went to rehab last year and seemed to have stopped before the trip. I think she started up again.”

  “The dive, in St. Helena?” John asked.

  Greg barely moved.

  “She was high, wasn’t she?”

  Greg finally acknowledged it with a shake of his head.

  “You knew, and let her dive anyway? The risks that creates. What kind of man does that?” John demanded angrily. Greg’s eyes began to tear up.

  “Greg, why are you and Jack at odds?”

  “He wanted her.”

  John had seen Jack close to Jennifer often but never saw a romantic longing from Jack.

  “Romantically?” John asked.

  Greg scoffed. “Not really, he wanted her for the power she would provide him. His dad is a greaseball politician. Jack’s father was a nobody who married rich, and he passed that advice on to his son. Jack married to Jennifer would be a dynasty of two very powerful families.”

  “And you stood in his way?”

  “Jennifer despised Jack, so if that was his goal, he stood in his own way. I knew Jennifer wasn’t long-term with me. On her end-not mine. Her dad would never allow a poor boy like me and her to stay together. She was slumming it with me, but we had fun. I cared about her more than she will know. She didn’t deserve to die.”

  “You and Jack have been at odds for how long?”

  “I worked for his father all last summer in the factory. Making leather. It is awful, hard work. All Jack did was berate me. Treat me like shit. But I had to take it, because that’s how I paid for this trip. I would have beat him to a pulp then, if I could have. That’s how it is, isn’t it? The rich can do what they want because the poor are constrained by money.”

  “You realize you just finished your trip, don’t you? Punching is a removal offense, and you’ll be put off in Brazil.”

  “Captain, you don’t actually think this trip will continue after Brazil when one of the students has died, do you? This trip is already over the second we touch land. You and I both know that.”

  Greg was right.

  Chapter 41

  John excused Greg back to his cabin and met Smith in the chart room. Jack was sitting at the chart table with his head tilted back, holding his nose.

  “Are you ok?” John asked.

  “He punches like a bitch,” Jack commented, smiling manically through the blood in his teeth. Jack's nose, clearly broken stood in blatant contradiction to his statement about Greg’s punching abilities.

  John grabbed Smith and pulled her aside. “You get his version of why it happened?”

  “Yes.”

  “Make sure you make a log entry with the details.” John moved back over to Jack. “Jack, can you tell me why Greg jumped you?”

  Jack sat up, holding the gauze over his nose.

  “I have no idea.”

  John looked at Smith, who shrugged. “You aren’t surprised?” John asked.

  Jack stared at the floor then back at John, his eyes beginning to brim with tears. “Greg just lost his lover; I mean how the fuck should one react? I don’t know what he is going through; he must be in shock.”

  “He jumped you, and very specifically said he’d kill you for this. ‘For this’ implying for Jennifer’s death.”

  “How could I be responsible for her death? Wait, are you saying she was killed?”

  John bit his tongue. The slimy Jack had weaseled out more info than John wanted to give.

  “I don’t know how she died, I’m not a doctor, but one student accusing the other of being responsible for a death is highly suspicious.”

  “I love Jennifer. Jen and I have been friends since grade school. Why would I want to harm her?”

  “That’s a very different story than Greg is telling me. He is saying she despised you.”

  “He is projecting his own feelings about me onto her.”

  Jack removed the gauze from his nose and somehow managed to look down at John through it.

  “Greg is ‘working class’.”

  “Excuse me? What does this have to do with anything?”

  Jack waved his hand, cutting John off, in a way that made his blood boil.

  “Greg got to fuck Jenny, and good for her. It’s always fun to play with one’s ‘toys’. I’ve been known to dip into a maid or two myself. It’s a kindness, really. You give them something spectacular in their otherwise dreary lives. Something they can hold on to. But you don’t settle down with one of them. Greg knew this.”

  A large drop of blood began to drip out of Jack’s nose. He put the gauze back up to it, holding it in place.

  “Jennifer is,” he paused, hesitating, “I guess I should say was the very upper crust of London society. She was going to dump him at the end of this trip, and he was getting attached. Attached to her money,” Jack gave John a conspiratorial look, “we both know Jen was no beauty. Besides she had already told her mother it was over with Greg. I imagine he knew his meal ticket was coming to an end, one way or the other.”

  “Despite your condescension of the ‘working class’, how does this explain his reaction to you?”

  “Captain, how did she die? You seem to be implying that she has been killed.”

  “Jack, I’m asking the questions here,” John responded firmly, trying to regain control. But he knew it was too late.

  “I had assumed it was her capsules that had done it,” Jacked continued, not giving up, “ but now I don’t know.”

  “Jack, listen to me carefully. I need you to stay away from Greg. Once we get to shore, we will get it all sorted,” Smith said.

  Jack put his hands up benignly. “I understand. Greg is having a rough time. I will give him time to grieve,” Jack announced, as he stood up.

  “And you too,” John said. Jack looked confused.

  “You need to grieve too, for your childhood friend, right?”

  A flicker passed over Jack’s face, but he quickly hid it with a solemn look. “Of course, I’m in shock too. We all are.”

  Jack went below to the Galley. John looked at Smith.

  “He’s a bigger piece of shit than I knew.”

  “Enough to be a killer?” Smith asked.

  “That’s what I have to find out.”

  Charlie walked down the companionway. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

  “What is it, Charlie?

  “The EPIRB. It’s gone.”

  Chapter 42

  Later that morning, with Bill back on watch, John called Smith, Lubanzi, and Charlie back in the chart room. He knew they were all running on adrenaline, and he had to let them get some sleep--but he also had to start eliminating suspects or his whole ship would fall apart. John needed to know who he could still trust.

  “Lubazni, did anything unusual happen with Jennifer on watch?”

  “She went below to the head a few times more than usual but that was it. There was nothing I can think of.”

  John turned to Smith, wondering about the pregnancy test.

  “How many times did she use the head during the four hours?”

  “I don’t know, I wasn’t really counting. At least once an hour, I think. Why? She said she was feeling sicker than she had been. But you know her, seasick always, so I didn’t think anything of it.

  “Lubanzi, when did Jennifer get off your watch?”

  “Ours ended at 0200. Smith was there,” Lubanzi replied defensively, his tone betraying his fear at the accusation.

  “I assumed the watch at 0200. But I’m usually up a little earlier than that. I think I let his students go down at 01:55,” Smith remembered.

  That means someone killed Jennifer between 0200 and 034--when Monica discovered the body. That is a pretty small window. Smith, did you see my cabin door open from 0200 until the time Monica screamed?”

  “No.” The view from the helm was straight down into the chart room and John’s cabin door.

  “But maybe s
he wasn’t looking for you. John, you could have snuck out,” Charlie reflected.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Charlie. So I saved Jennifer’s life last week to strangle her this week?”

  “I’m just playing devils advocate. If everyone is a suspect there has to be a higher standard than a single witness vouching for them,” Charlie replied.

  “Enough. John is 6’2” and God knows how wide; he blocks the damn radar screen whenever he’s in the chart room to my never-ending annoyance. Trust me when I say I would have seen him. John couldn’t have done it. Let’s move on,” Smith said.

  “So, I’m eliminated,” John concluded.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but what about Bill? Can he be eliminated?” Smith asked.

  “Yes. I already cleared him.”

  “How?” Charlie asked.

  “You all know he wears that damn breathing machine when he sleeps. It has a Bluetooth phone app that documents his sleeping pattern. It also tells you whether the mask is off or on. He showed it to me and he wore his mask continuously from 22:30 to when Lubanzi woke him before I pulled the alarm. Bill is out,” John said.

  “And what about you, Charlie?” Smith asked.

  “I was asleep since I got off watch at 0200. I’ve been beat the last few days. Been in my bunk since then. Of course, I can’t prove it.”

  “I woke Charlie up when we sounded the alarm. He was asleep,” Lubanzi reported.

  “And I heard Charlie’s snoring when I came out of my cabin,” John said. “That’s good enough for me. You’re eliminated.”

  “What about me?” Smith interrupted. “Why haven’t you eliminated me?”

  “Smith, you were on the helm from 0200 watch change onward, correct? Did you leave the helm for any reason during that time?”

  “I can’t believe this, you’re questioning me? How dare you. Because I overstepped your precious pecking order a little?” Smith began to get red in the face, her temper raging.

  “Smith, just answer the question,” John said.

  “I was gone for 10 minutes near the beginning of my watch to get more coffee. I went to the galley.”