There was no way out. If I took the side off the bath, the space was about big enough for an outsize rabbit to hop along. And where would it lead to? If I took off the ventilation screen in the ceiling, it would be big enough for a couple of mosquitoes. There was no porthole, and they were firmly fixed to the ship, anyhow. How was I going to get out this time?
I sat on the edge of the bed, contemplating my fate. My hand was on the keys of the bedside telephone. I keyed in a familiar set of numbers.
‘Hello,’ I said, all sweetness and light. ‘Room service, please?’
TWENTY-ONE
Still Aground
I walked smartly down the corridor, pushing the trolley of covered dishes. I looked clean and pristine in the steward’s uniform, my hair pulled tightly back into a bun like a ballet dancer. Well, I had just had a shower.
The guard smiled at me and helped himself to a stick of celery from a serving dish. ‘She all right in there?’ he asked.
‘Right as rain,’ I said. ‘Tucking into her meal.’
‘Hope she saves some for me.’
‘Ask her nicely in about an hour’s time.’
I continued pushing the serving trolley down the corridor. A cabin door opened abruptly and a woman put her head round the door. Her hair was wound up in jumbo rollers, her face covered in a rapidly drying green mask which made it difficult for her to talk.
‘Steward,’ she said stiffly. ‘Will you bring me a bottle of rose?’
‘Of course, madam. Australian, French or Portuguese?’ My hand went into the jacket uniform pocket. The pad and pen were there. ‘Your cabin number, please?’
‘It’s on the door,’ she snapped. ‘Portuguese rose.’
There was the number on the door. This was a doddle. ‘And your name, please?’
‘Lesser. Mrs Lesser. And a pot of coffee and make sure it’s hot,’ she added.
‘Yes, madam. I’ll make sure it’s hot. Caff or decaff?’
‘I don’t care. Just bring me some coffee.’
I was really quite good at this but I hoped that no more customers would come flocking to my little order pad. The serving trolley was cumbersome and I dumped it in the first stewards’ kitchen that I came across.
Somehow I had to find DI James without attracting too much attention.
I picked up a small tray and sallied forth into the thirsty world. The lounge was my first port of call. A thick sea mist had rolled in and the lounge was packed with travellers who were not going anywhere. It was almost impossible to see out of the windows. The mist was white, licking the windows, like in a vampire film.
‘Steward, over here, two coffees please.’
‘Yes, sir. What kind of coffee?’
‘Latte.’ The passenger offered his cruise card and I wrote down his name and cabin number on the order pad. I had a feeling he was going to wait a long time for those two lattes. I hoped he wasn’t too thirsty.
I took several more orders. I was so efficient, except that I dare not go to the bar with the orders because I would be instantly recognized or rather not recognized as a genuine member of the hotel staff. A drawback. There might be some sort of alert.
I went out on to the deck holding the tray and a bright smile and was immediately swallowed by the mist. It felt cold and clammy. My face was damp and tiny beads of moisture clung to my hair. It was like being submerged.
It was actually dangerous to be walking on deck and crewmen were closing the deck doors and putting no entry ropes across the handles. The Orpheus was still not moving and now that no one could see anything, there was a feeling of isolation and growing panic. Even the bird island was lost to view. All the novelty of the situation had worn off. Passengers wanted to be moving.
James might go back to his cabin and demand to be let in. He’d find the steward in his underpants, eating my order and watching a DVD. I said he could. He only had to stay there an hour or so. It was all part of a crazy job-swopping bet and I promised him twenty pounds if I won. He was already writing a letter home on the complimentary cabin stationery.
A man loomed out of the mist, order at the ready.
‘One brandy, one American ginger ale, one cup of tea, no sugar, portion of honey, two sandwiches, one ham and tomato, the other cream cheese and iceberg lettuce, two yogurts, one plain, one strawberry and a packet of crisps. Oh yes, and some walnuts. Have you got all that, steward?’
‘Yes, sir. Any mayonnaise on the sandwiches? Where would you like it served?’
‘Out here on deck. I don’t like my conversations being overheard. And don’t drop the tray coming back. It might roll overboard. We don’t want to be charged for a lost tray.’
I couldn’t see him properly but I knew the voice. He had found me as I knew he would. It was James. Pity about the order.
‘How did you find me?’
‘A woman in a cabin near mine said she’d ordered rose wine and a pot of coffee about half an hour ago and it still hadn’t come. She said the steward had red hair and was a complete idiot. So I knew it was you.’
He was not laughing at me though I could barely see his face. He drew me into the shelter of a pile of sun loungers. He took off his sweater and draped it over my shoulders.
‘They just can’t get the staff these days,’ I said.
‘You’d better put this on,’ he said.
‘Berry locked me in your cabin, took away my clothes and put a guard on the door.’
‘He sure is a tough cookie.’
‘I’ve nowhere to go any more.’ I was near to tears or perhaps it was mist settling on my face. ‘That man’s out to get me. When he discovers I’ve disappeared again … ‘
‘He won’t. We’ve a lot to go on now. You say that Joanna is alive and planning to get off in Bergen. And we are going to solve this mystery. Forget the so called security officer. You are going to stay with me. I won’t let you out of my sight for a single minute.’
And I believed him. Not out of his sight for a single minute.
‘We need to draw Joanna Carter out of hiding somehow. You think she’s in Oliver Carter’s cabin most of the time,’ he went on. ‘We have to get her out and her cover blown. Maybe an emergency, a fire drill, muster stations, something urgent. But that’s rather dramatic and not fair on the other passengers. It’s got to be something that relates only to Joanna.’
‘Berry and the doctor are both involved, although I’m not sure how.’
‘A message from the two of them, perhaps. Let’s think along those lines. We need bait.’
‘Don’t look at me.’
He wasn’t listening to me. ‘You’d be the perfect bait. She’d come out if it was something to do with you. After all, you could ruin all her plans, whatever they are at this stage.’
‘I won’t do it.’
‘Come on, Jordan. You know it makes sense.’
‘It might make sense but it wouldn’t work. She’d send along her henchmen, one with a truncheon and the other with a hypodermic needle. I’d be fish fodder in five minutes.’
‘You do have a gruesome turn of phrase, Jordan. OK, we’ll think of something else. But it had better be quick. As soon as we are off this unexpected underwater obstacle, we’ll be heading for the port of Bergen.’
‘And we could lose her forever once there. They could fly anywhere in the world. But I do have an idea.’
‘I’ve been dreading those words. Your ideas are usually crack-brained and totally unworkable.’ James tried to stifle a groan. The mist swirled round him like a wraith.
‘Supposing we send her a note saying we’ve caught her new image on CCTV and we’ve had a copy of the film made and we want to meet her somewhere to discuss terms to our mutual benefit, i.e. it’s blackmail. We’d blackmail her.’
‘She’d probably guess it was us. She’s pretty devious.’
I heard the slightest rustle of clothes nearby. A sniff and a cough. Someone cleared their throat.
‘But she wouldn’t guess if the message ca
me from me,’ said a voice I recognized, a contralto voice bubbling with excitement. ‘Now I’ve been listening to every word so I’ve an idea who you’re talking about. Mrs Joanna Carter, the poor woman tied on to the keelhauling ladder. Of course, I would like to be filled in on the greyer areas.’
She loomed out of the mist like a polar bear treading an ice flow. It was Natasha in her trademark fur coat, swathed in scarves and dangling earrings. Her eyes were bright with enthusiasm.
‘Do let me help. I’m so bored. There’s not a decent man under fifty on this ship and I’ve read all the books in the library, seen all the films. The bridge club have had me banned for talking and there’s absolutely nothing to do. Except eat and I don’t want to do any more of that.’
‘Natasha, how lovely to see you,’ and I really meant it. She was a friendly face from last week. ‘So much has happened. James, this is Natasha. We were on the same table in the dining room, many years ago, it seems.’
‘James,’ said Natasha, looking at him with open admiration. He didn’t move or seem to notice. His face was dark and still. ‘James is such a nice name. The only decent man aboard and I can see that he’s already taken. Pity. Never mind, perhaps Jordan will let me share. Occasionally.’
‘It’s not like that, Natasha,’ I said quickly, disturbed by her eye-swivelling towards James. He gave no sign of being worried by her attention. ‘But your help might go a long way to solving this terrible situation. Perhaps we ought to talk about it a bit more.’
‘I want to know everything. Please tell me. You can trust me.’
‘Jordan has been framed.’ said James. ‘It’s as simple as that. We want to get Joanna out of hiding. To prove that she’s alive.’
‘That’s exactly what we’ll do. It’ll be my pleasure to get you out of this mess, Jordan. Just tell me what I have to do and I’ll do it. That po-faced security officer is a pompous ass and needs to be taught a lesson. As for that dishy doctor, I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately. It’s like he’s been infected with one of his own diseases.’
‘It’s very strange,’ I agreed. ‘He’s completely changed. He used to be so nice.’
A low booming sound came out of the mist. We stopped talking and listened intently. It was ghostly. Natasha went pale beneath her make-up. The sound came again and she clutched at my arm. She had lost her nerve.
‘Jordan, what is it? What’s that awful noise? Is the ship sinking?’
‘I think that’s a pair of tugs coming to pull us off the sea bed. Nothing to worry about, Miss Natasha,’ said James. ‘This might be a good moment to take cover before everyone comes out to watch the event. We can’t go to my cabin. Berry has put a guard on the door.’
‘Welcome to my cabin, one deck down,’ said Natasha, recovering. ‘And we’ll find you something a little more attractive to wear, Jordan. That steward’s uniform is not exactly flattering. It’s meant to fit a lanky young man. And I’ve a bottle of gin that needs opening in good company. Drinking alone is the first step to becoming an alcoholic.’
Passengers were flocking back to the decks to watch the arrival of the tugs. We followed Natasha to her cabin. She had a double bed cabin for single occupancy. I suppose she needed the extra room for her vast wardrobe.
She shut the door firmly and went straight to the refrigerator. ‘My steward has remembered to bring fresh ice, thank goodness. Just what we need to sharpen the brain. A double G & T.’ She poured out large drinks, no pub measures here. She seemed to have plenty of glasses, no doubt ferried back to her cabin on different evenings.
‘Cheers,’ she said.
‘Cheers,’ I said, wondering what on earth was going to happen now. One minute I was being charged with murder, the next drinking a large double gin and tonic in a passenger’s cabin. I wondered what she was going to find me to wear. She was twice my size.
‘Your hospitality is very generous,’ said James, helping himself to a beer and prising off the cap. He took a deep drink. ‘But first things first. This is what we are going to do.’
‘I’m going to like this,’ said Natasha, looking at James.
TWENTY-TWO
At Sea
Sometime before midnight, another tug arrived and the two powerful engines carefully eased the Orpheus Odyssey off the ground bank with ropes attached to her stern. It was a delicate manoeuvre. I watched from the promenade deck in borrowed crew fatigues. It was baggy round the waist but then James would have little knowledge of my vital statistics.
‘Keep a low profile,’ he said.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘I won’t join the sail away party on deck.’ ‘If you are nice to me, I might bring you a glass of bubbly.’
‘How nice?’
‘Well, quite nice. No playground tears, please.’
That was the limit of our flirtation but it was a good start. I flashed him a saucy smile but he had already gone. It was always the way. James would rescue me from some situation and then go.
Natasha had also vanished somewhere. She had been quickly primed as to how she should approach Joanna Carter. It was all such flimsy evidence. I wondered how she was going to manage.
‘Phone Oliver Carter’s cabin and make an arrangement to meet Joanna at some discreet spot but somewhere clearly in public view,’ said James. ‘The shop might be a good place. You could make your financial proposition to her while examining a rail of sparkling party clothes.’
‘My favourite place. They have plenty of things in my size,’ Natasha laughed.
‘But don’t go anywhere with her,’ I said. ‘You can’t trust her.’
‘I’ll be careful. Don’t you worry. I can handle Mrs Carter.’
How could anyone handle Mrs Carter? She was devious in every possible way. She would trick her own grandmother.
Could we rely on this effervescent woman to carry out our hoax, without giving us away? It was the way she said, so confidentially, ‘I can handle Mrs Carter,’ that worried me. Then it struck like a blow to the solar plexus. She could be part of a double double-cross and was another of Joanna’s planted accomplices. Maybe they would all walk away with a share of the pay-out. She could buy another fur coat.
But it was too late for a change of plan.
‘I’ll be nearby,’ James went on. ‘At some point, I’ll make myself known and escort her to the captain on the bridge. He’s the only one on board who can actually arrest her and put her in custody. Apparently there is a cadet’s cabin which can be made totally secure.’
‘How did you find that out?’ I asked.
‘I’m a detective, remember?’
I wanted to go home. Another wave of homesickness threatened my stability. I longed for the pier at Latching on its wobbly legs, the seagulls, Maeve’s Cafe, my friends, the beach. Especially the beach and the churning waves. I felt no connection now to this different sea, this ship and this deck above the sea.
It was a relief to feel the ship moving again. The captain had a lot of time to make up and nautical miles to cover before we docked in Bergen. Every mile covered now was a mile nearer Latching. We were returning, on our way home.
We were going home.
James had left me with nothing to do. I could hardly hang about in crew gear, admiring the view. Some diligent sideways searching produced a J-cloth, lifted from a steward’s service trolley while he was in a cabin delivering clean towels. I decided to clean everywhere.
I took the J-cloth and diligently began polishing every brass rail or knob or handle in sight. There were plenty of them. I kept my head down and moved around the ship like a busy beaver. I’d be getting a service award at this rate.
An officer stopped me. ‘Hey, lad. What are you doing?’ he asked.
I pointed to my ear and shook my head, feigning total deafness. I also managed a pathetic smile. He looked puzzled, obviously trying to place the deaf crew youngster whose name he could not recall.
‘OK, boy. Carry on.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Promenade de
ck soon shone like a lighthouse. It was time for me to move on downwards towards the Scheherazade shop of delights. Natasha would have contacted Joanna by now. She might even be negotiating how much money was going to change hands.
I saw Francis Guilbert coming towards the stairs. He must be wondering what had happened to me as I hadn’t spoken to him for some time. Then he stopped and turned towards the photo shop, obviously going to hand in a film for them to process. It was a poignant moment. I would have to make it up to him, too, sometime. It seemed I owed a lot of people.
There was a moment of hesitation. I could explain to Francis now and make things clear. But someone pushed in front of me and the opportunity was lost.
I nipped into the Clarus cinema in polish mode but found little made of brass inside. Also I could barely see in the dark. My eyes were curtained until they adjusted. I stopped for a second, always happy to watch Hugh Grant doing a Prime Ministerial boogie along the corridors of No. 10. They were showing Love Actually again for passengers who were tired of watching mist.
They were not in the shop. It was busy with browsing passengers but there was no sign of Natasha or Joanna Carter conversing over some clothes rail. Not even the bargain sale rail. I began to feel a rise of panic. I couldn’t stay. Crew were not allowed in the shop unless it was to repair something.
The stairs were empty. First sitting had started and a surge of passengers were filling the Delphi dining room, using the antiseptic squirt at the entrance. I had forgotten the time of day or what it was like to eat normally.
Natasha was nowhere. Joanna Carter was probably ordering a la carte room service with wine. I felt an anger, flat and sharp, that wiped out previous concern about Natasha or Joanna. What were they doing? Where was Natasha? I phoned her cabin, using the service phone but there was no answer.
I began a systematic search of the ship, keeping a low profile, polishing anything in sight, including wooden fixtures and fire extinguishers.
Fold and Die (Jordan Lacey Mysteries Book 8) Page 18