by Murcer, Rick
“You think they are sleeping?” she asked.
“I don’t know. We haven’t seen them since yesterday afternoon. I just want to make sure they’re all right.”
By then, Louise had made the trek down the hall and was standing beside Manny.
After knocking a few more times, Raduca nodded and pulled out the master key from her pocket. She turned the knob slowly and motioned for Manny to go in. He pushed it open and stepped inside with Louise at his heels.
Their room was fairly bright because the terrace curtain was wide open, bathing the cabin with gentle, setting-sun light. To his immediate left, the bathroom door was open and the light over the medicine cabinet gave off a portentous glow.
Manny’s heart rate quickened while he did a quick scan of the main cabin and balcony. He stopped cold at the bed.
The blue-and-pink comforter lay undisturbed. Some of their suitcases were stacked near the foot of the bed, but it looked as if no one had slept or even sat on it.
Another fast glance around the room, and his stomach dropped to his toes. The room was empty.
CHAPTER-28
“I don’t get this. Where are they?” puzzled Louise. Manny heard the thick tension in her voice. He didn’t have an answer for her, but agreed: this didn’t add up.
He moved farther into the cabin and walked over to the balcony. The only things on the sunlit veranda were white deck chairs and a matching table that teased him with knowledge Manny didn’t have.
Once outside, his heightened senses took in the ocean’s heady fragrance accompanied by the reek of cigar smoke swaggering from the next balcony. The smooth sound of Mindy Abair’s tenor sax echoed through the ship’s speakers. Still no Liz or Lynn.
Bending over the railing, he inspected the row of orange, tarp-covered lifeboats playing follow-the-leader some fifteen feet below. Beneath them swam nothing but blue ocean.
Sometimes, simply because of the surrounding circumstances, he’d get an idea or some vibe about what had transpired at a particular scene. This time, however, nothing came to him except more conviction that Liz and Lynn were in trouble.
Finally he came back into the cabin and dropped to his knee, searching under the bed. Red Gucci suitcases stared back at him. He pulled open the two closet doors: nothing but expensive shirts, dresses, and shorts hanging undisturbed.
Both of the couple’s Sun and Fun cards rested on the beige vanity, along with Lynn’s leather wallet and both of their smartphones. He chewed the inside of his cheek. The presence of the two cells could be the biggest tell-tale sign of trouble because Manny had never seen Liz or Lynn without them. Their phones were, more often than not, stuck to the sides of their heads.
Raduca stepped into the cabin looking at Manny with a strange curiosity. “What were you looking for?”
“I’m sorry. I’m a cop and I acted like one. Habit. I just wanted to make sure everything was all right with our friends.” He showed her his badge.
Raduca nodded slowly. “Maybe they are on their way to dinner, no?”
The Sun and Fun cards and the phones winking at him from the vanity top said otherwise, but he didn’t want to worry either of the women.
“I’m sure you’re right. I’m sorry for any inconvenience.”
He turned for one more look, took Louise’s hand, and exited the room, moving in the direction of the elevators.
“Just like that? You’re going to leave that room, just like that? Are you not feeling okay? There is something wrong there. Even I figured that out.”
“Now who’s being paranoid?” he asked. “But you might be right. We need to go to dinner and see if Liz and Lynn are there. Maybe Raduca is spot on. Maybe everyone’s already at the table, drinking wine and waiting for us.”
“But you don’t really think—”
“Honey, I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right, but we’ve both been wrong before. Let’s just go to dinner and find out.”
She gave him a solemn stare. “Okay. But what if they’re not at dinner? Then what?”
“We go to the Purser’s Desk and have them paged. If that doesn’t work, we find the head of security and ask for help to search the ship. They have to be here somewhere.” Manny shrugged and adjusted his bow tie. “Maybe they don’t want to be found, you know? This could be a time for them to talk life over, to sort some things out.”
Louise helped him with the tie. “Okay. You’re right. That paranoia thing’s what I get for being married to a cop.”
The elevator arrived, and Manny and Louise traveled in silence.
Wishing to alleviate her concerns and, to some degree, his own, he wrapped his arm around her waist.
“You look amazing. Did I tell you that?”
“Yeah, but you can say it again.”
“You look amazing.”
“You’re such a charming man.”
He winked. “You ain’t seen nothing, yet.”
“Oh my. What do you have in mind?”
“Stuff.”
She laughed, and Manny enjoyed every bit of it.
The Paupers restaurant was beautifully designed and gave the feel and aroma of the most elite Detroit eatery. A hostess greeted them and led Louise and Manny to their assigned table, where they were greeted by Gavin and Stella, Alex and Barb, and Sophie and Randy.
Manny’s heart sank deeper. The troublesome sense of trepidation became a full-blown siren. Liz and Lynn were nowhere to be seen.
A table host pulled Louise’s chair out for her. After Manny had taken his own seat, he related to the others how they had just left the Casnovsky’s cabin and there was no trace of their friends.
“Nothing?” asked Alex.
“Nothing,” responded Manny. He stared at his plate and ran his hand through his hair. “We haven’t seen them in twenty-eight hours, and I don’t like it. We need to find them.”
The group nodded in unison. He laid out his plan to have the Casnovskys paged and search the ship, if necessary. The others agreed.
“I just don’t get it. How do you vanish on a cruise ship?” said Sophie. “Of course, unless you wanted to.”
No one responded, but increasing uneasiness hung over the table, like a sinister, black cloud.
“Let’s go have them paged. I don’t like this either,” urged Gavin.
They left the table together, the Purser’s Desk their only goal.
The feeling of desperation, like searching for a lost child in a giant department store, stuck to Manny’s ribs. He suspected everyone felt the same; you’d have to be dead not to.
They hurried toward the elevators and to the third deck, to the Purser’s Desk. Manny realized that they could be in for a godforsaken journey that would only end in some horrible way. But they had run out of options.
He wanted to be wrong, but wanting and getting are two different things.
CHAPTER-29
“Would Mr. and Mrs. Lynn and Elizabeth Casnovsky please report to the Purser’s Desk, deck three, immediately,” echoed the powerful PA system for the third time in ten minutes. The Purser, Richard Smith from Liverpool, England, didn’t require a twist of his thin arm to make the announcements, especially after Manny relayed the circumstances surrounding the last day and a half.
After he had spoken to the Purser, the rest of the Lansing party left the third floor and hustled back to their rooms to change. Everyone was to meet back with Manny to see if Liz and Lynn had responded to the page. If not, they were to start a deck-by-deck search with four members of the security staff assisting them. Manny was elected to stay at the desk and be there when, and if, Liz and Lynn responded to the PA’s request.
Craig Richardson, the ship’s security chief, stood by the desk, hands on his hips. The retired detective from New York City stood well over six feet, with white, close-cropped hair on his oval head. His beady, dark eyes peered from the permanent frown of his ruddy features.
A flowering look of skepticism had blossomed on Richardson’s face when Manny firs
t approached him about the missing couple. His guise didn’t change an iota, even after he listened to Manny’s account of the day ending with the empty cabin and the no-show for dinner. Richardson’s doubtful expression progressed to impatience and did little to inspire confidence in the ship’s top cop. Manny tried to hide his immediate dislike for Richardson, but it was like trying to stop the sun from rising.
The head of security didn’t display any sense of urgency and harbored an irritating attitude of don’t-screw-up-my-dinner-time-with-something-so-trivial. Manny didn’t do well with nonchalant; it only pissed him off. Plus Richardson’s quick assessment of the situation was wrong. That pissed him off too.
“You’re a cop, Mr. Williams. You know how this stuff works. Sometimes people don’t want to be found, and it happens far more on cruise ships than you would think.”
Sophie, standing to Manny’s left, scrunched up her nose. “You don’t believe what just came out of your mouth, do you?”
“No reason to get excited.”
“No reason, huh? No wonder New York is so screwed up. Do you take drugs? No, I know, you’re drunk.” She stepped closer. “Manny, I’m going to kick his ass, hold my purse.”
“Easy. I’ll handle this. Go hold Randy’s hand.”
She pointed at Richardson. “Your lucky day, punk.”
Richardson grunted and smiled. But his eyes grew colder. Richardson didn’t seem to do well with confrontation, especially with a small, Asian woman cop. Could it be he didn’t play well with others?
It was time for a “talk.” Manny drew close to Richardson, eyes on fire.
“Listen to me, asshole.” His voice smooth as silk. “I know my friends. I know missing person situations, and I know the difference between trouble and habits. You help us with this search, or I’ll have every senior officer on board up your ass with a microscope. Got it?” His teeth clenched together on “got it.”
Richardson took a small step back and stared at the shorter detective, but squinting eyes and frowning face never changed expression. Manny thought Chief Richardson was doing a marvelous job of controlling his temper. He was also pretty confident that hitting a guest was a surefire way of getting a one-way ticket home.
Finally, the taller ex-detective answered Manny with a thin smile. “I’m sure your friends are fine, but this is what we’ll do. Let’s break up into four groups. Groups one and two search the even numbered decks, one group on each side of the ship. Groups three and four do the same for the odd numbered decks. Okay?”
“Thank you.”
Richardson’s reaction didn’t reflect “you’re welcome,” more like “eat shit and die.” At least he had displayed some emotion, and Manny didn’t think that could hurt.
It took a minute to form the groups so that someone in each search party would recognize the Casnovskys on sight. Manny felt better; doing something was always better.
As Richardson led his group past Manny, he stopped and bent to his ear. “Don’t ever threaten me again,” he rasped.
The security chief disappeared inside the elevator, and Manny smiled. There was more than one way to skin a cat.
He quietly panned the formally dressed crowd of cruisers moving past the long, mahogany reception desk. Who knows? Maybe he would see Liz and Lynn before they saw him. That would be a sight for sore eyes.
Ten minutes passed, and he caught himself staring at the wall, pondering Sophie’s surprising confession and, in the next overloaded thought, wondering how he would react when he saw Lynn. He told himself that wasn’t important, yet. First things first.
Waiting wasn’t one of his strong suits, and if he were a smoker, he would have chained half a pack.
Whew. Slow down, boy. You’re going to pop a blood vessel.
He continued scanning the people, hoping for a glimpse of Liz or Lynn that would send his angst packing.
Down the hall to the left were several picture-taking stations, and the lines were long. Vanity or remnants of the trip of a lifetime? It didn’t really matter. The ship’s guests were having a great time. Even under these circumstances, the thought of Liz brought a smile to his face, a painful one, but a smile just the same. She lived for this kind of thing. She was attractive and very photogenic, and he knew part of her wanted the world to see how lucky Lynn was to have her. She especially wanted Lynn to feel that way.
The sterling silver clock hanging above the counter read 8:32 and still no sign of the Casnovskys, in spite of several more pages. The search parties agreed to convene at 9 p.m.in front of the casino, located on deck five near the middle of the ship. The seconds continued to tick away and each stroke of the red second hand seemed like an hour. With each passing moment, his faith sank lower, if that were possible.
Fifteen minutes later, it became clear that Liz and Lynn weren’t coming to the Purser’s Desk. Fearfully clear. It was time to check in with the others.
Each step toward the casino brought more dread than hope, and he had a harder time controlling his imagination.
What the hell had happened? Did they fall off the balcony? Foul play? Who? Why? Lynn’s wallet still sat on the vanity bench with hundreds of dollars folded inside, so it couldn’t have been robbery. How would someone get into their cabin?
All thoughts of turning off the Guardian of the Universe’s work mode were now gone like bad bets at a blackjack table. There were times when this once-a-cop-always-a-cop persona could be a real pain. But this wasn’t one of those times.
The sudden scream that punctured the busy deck brought him to a swift halt. For the second time on this trip, he reached for the gun that wasn’t there. Old habits. The first scream had not stopped reverberating when a second hysterical wail began: an awful two-part harmony.
Manny did a one-eighty just in time to see three young ladies, dressed in full formal attire, sprinting on the black, marble floor directly toward him. Their heels clacked in wild rhythm to their flailing arms.
“Oh my God! Oh my God!” sobbed the middle girl. “Help! Help! Oh my God!”
When he met the trio, the young woman on his left grabbed his arm. Long, trembling fingers with painted-red nails dug into his skin.
“Calm down. Calm down.” But there was no calming the panicked women.
“What’s wrong? What did you see?” Manny tried to get the girls to answer, even though he knew this wasn’t going to be good.
All three began talking at once. Finally, the young lady with the vice-like grip on his arm spoke through streaming tears, this time clear enough for him to understand.
“There’s a wom—woman’s arm hanging out from one of the boats. It has blood on it. I think she’s dead.” The young lady pointed at the starboard side of the ship, toward the lifeboats.
Manny’s heart turned cold as he took off. He prayed that the girls were wrong. It could be some sort of silly prank, but deep down, he knew it wasn’t.
Once to the lifeboat, breathing hard and lungs begging for more air, he wiped away the sweat running down his temples and pushed through the small crowd gathered on deck five near lifeboat sixteen. The now-multiplying circle of rubberneckers caused him to become instantly angry. People were willing to get a glimpse of anything and then wish they hadn’t.
The boat’s orange tarp had been pulled away just enough to display the slender, tanned arm hanging limply. There were several runnels of dried blood tracking down to her wrist. Manny could see the outline of the rest of the body, clearly visible under the sweating canvas and knew, right away, that this was more than a murder.
The killer had staged this. He wanted everyone to see his version of a three-ring circus.
A stout, black-haired woman standing just behind Manny, dressed in a glittering, purple, formal gown, ejected her recent dinner, splattering on the deck with conviction. The stench filtered over the crowd and triggered several other guests to follow suit. Vomit plastered all over the deck was not in the cruise line’s brochure.
Just then, Richardson chugged up b
eside him. He was out of breath and clutching his chest. His wheezing gasps caught in his jowled throat when he saw the arm.
Manny took a step closer, and the weight of the world dropped on his shoulders.
Any remaining hope that Manny held of finding Liz alive had vanished. He recognized the large diamond ring and polished gold wedding band attached to her unmoving ring finger.
It had belonged to Liz’s mother, who had been married with the ring and had wanted her only daughter to have the same experience.
Liz Casnovsky’s cruise was officially over.
CHAPTER-30
The dismal silence thrumming through the sterile, impersonal waiting room of the ship’s infirmary, where Manny and Alex sat, did little to alter Manny’s mood. The aroma of rubbing alcohol jitterbugged through the air, reminding him of every doctor’s office he had ever been in.
Manny scanned the textured floor, knowing they were both walking through various stages of denial, trying to deal with the murder of their friend.
The others had decided to wait in Gavin and Stella’s suite until Manny and Alex returned. None of the rest really wanted this duty call anyway. Not tonight, not this one, not Liz.
Mixed emotions strolled into Manny’s mind like they owned the place, and in a sad way, they did. He had sworn this wouldn’t happen on his watch, like the murder of his partner those years ago, yet it had. He knew he hadn’t been on duty, but pensive, nefarious guilt said that he was partly to blame.
“Stop it,” interrupted Alex. “This isn’t your fault, and it’s not about you, got it?”
Denying where his thoughts were running, especially to Alex, was like suggesting water wasn’t wet. He looked back to his good friend. “I know. I’m working through it.”
Alex sighed. “Yeah, me too.”
The joy rising from a Caribbean cruise should go hand-in-hand with simply boarding the ship. Cruise was synonymous with a great time. But not this one. Instead, it had become a harbinger of dread and sadness, and for good measure, guilt.