Waves of Murder

by J B Raphael

  Liz’s red and black system didn’t work, they both lost. Leaving at about 2.30 am, Jon walked Liz to her suite on deck B. They stopped at her door, “Thank you for a fabulous evening, honey,” she said, “call me at about 10 o’clock.” She pecked his cheek and went into her room, she wasn’t as gushing or as keen as his previous ‘ladies’ had been, but there was plenty of time, plenty of time indeed! She would succumb sooner or later, he said to himself.

  Jon called Liz at 10 am, “Hi honey, is it ten already, I’ve not had a good night, strange vibes and dreams, must have been too much champagne!” She said, “see you in the Mall coffee shop in an hour.” the phone went quiet.

  They spent most of the afternoon on the sundeck, after a salad bar lunch. “Do you like sex in the afternoon?” Liz asked.

  Jon almost choked as he said, “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “I said, do you like sex in the afternoon?” she repeated, putting down her book.

  “Er, yes,” he said, “but it’s been a long time,” he said.

  “It’s been a long time for me, morning, noon or night!” she laughed. She stood up from her sunbed, picked up her bag, book and towel and said, “c’mon honey, it’s party time,” she said, and pulled him up by his hand. Stripping off her black bikini quickly, once inside the suite, she went into the shower and after about a minute he heard, “C’mon in baby, the water’s lovely.” They soaped each other and kissed passionately, she spent a long time rubbing suds into his groin which had the desired effect. His erection was almost immediate and she fondled it slowly while he gently held her breasts and slowly rubbed them with soap. Without drying, they fell on to the bed and began their supreme fornication. Unlike his previous conquests, her orgasm was only a very long sigh. They lay panting for about five minutes, “You know when I said do you like sex in the afternoon, I meant the cocktail!” she laughed, “but that was better! But now we will have an afternoon cocktail,” and in her nakedness went over to her mini bar and took out a bottle of Moet and poured two glasses. Lifting her glass and chinking Jon’s, “It’s five o’clock somewhere!” she shouted, laughing. They finished the bottle and once again fell on to the bed and fell into a drowsy embrace and were soon asleep. At 9 o’clock they woke and decided they would order a room service dinner, they had time to dress and make themselves respectable before there was a knock at the door. Their food was wheeled in on a trolley, the steward set up the table and served dinner from silver service beautifully, and received 20 euros. He thanked Jon after he signed the bill. After a good dinner they sat on the balcony watching the stars and the full moon. Liz had poured two large balloons of brandy, and they enjoyed the silence, just the quiet lapping of the waves against the ship broke the ambience. They didn’t speak, just gently sipped the cognac. Jon stayed the night.

  The sun shone with piercing fingers on to their bed, both were naked, the night had been very warm and they needed no bed clothes. Nine o’clock was ablaze on the digital alarm clock, which happily had not been set! Jon stirred, and doing so awakened Liz who smiled and said, “I really am a Bond girl now!” They laughed, and she jumped out of bed and went into the bathroom. Once again they ordered room service for breakfast and sat on the balcony, watching as an island floated past, or so it seemed to! not far away.

  “I must go to my stateroom to shave and change,” he said. They kissed lightly and he said he would call her in 40 minutes or so. He hadn’t stopped planning his murderous moves, would it be Liz first or the big woman? but it would have to be the last day of the cruise. He had moved on Liz, but how would he get to the fat lady, perhaps through gambling, yes that’s it he thought, a bit of joviality, every woman, no matter who, loves the attention of a young man, he would visit the main casino. Calling Liz, they arranged another days tanning, after all he wanted to go home looking good, the darker he got the better, but he would have to top up the blond hair colour. He would do this in the late afternoon instead of sex. It took at least two hours to get the Scandinavian look again, he would use this as an excuse to Liz so as to go back to his stateroom.

  Dinner was informal, they opted for seafood salads in the speciality bar in the Mall. “I was watching satellite TV news earlier,” she said, “and they showed a guy that slightly reminded me of you, with a beard. He’s wanted for something, but then the screen went hazy, and it was in Italian anyway, but his name was Jon Weston from London, a mad English serial killer, you’re not a serial murderer, are you Keiron?”

  He laughed, and said, “No, I haven’t hurt a fly since I was 5 years old,” he replied.

  “Well, you certainly didn’t hurt me last night!” she said, smiling a wicked smile, and winking.

  Whoops he thought, I’m a TV personality again, but Liz was the only one who had got close to him, and there were over a hundred men that looked like him, blond, tall etc., on board, and the TV face was bearded. “I thought I might try my luck at the casino, to see if I can get my money back,” he told Liz.

  “Okay, honey, I’m gonna have an early night with a book,” she said.

  After a drink in the ‘Da Vinci’ bar, Jon wandered through to the larger casino, no large lady, he then walked up a deck to the upper atrium casino, there she is, perhaps she likes to try her luck at all the tables. Luckily there was an empty chair to her left, he sat down and smiled, she nodded and smiled back, at the same time tidying her medium sized pile of chips. This was obviously a nervous habit when playing roulette. Jon placed a thousand euros on the table to be changed into chips, which were pushed over to him. The woman glanced at this handsome young man and smiled again. “Good evening,” he said.

  “Good evening,” she replied.

  “How’s your luck?” he asked.

  “Oh, so so, not as good as last night,” she added.

  He thought he heard a Scottish accent, “My name is Keiron Pearce, from Dublin,” he said, putting on more of an Irish accent and extending his hand.

  “Hello,” she said, “I’m Molly McKern from the Isle of Hoy in Scotland, but I now live on the Cote d’Azure, in France. I had 45 years of snow, gales and zero temperatures, so when they found 18 billion cubic feet of natural gas beneath my farm, I vowed to go and live somewhere warm,” she smiled with a slight giggle.

  “Good choice!” Jon agreed. She picked up her winning chips and added them to her pile, Jon had not yet placed a bet and decided to copy his neighbour’s choices and won a quick 500 euros. Molly had doubled that amount, they turned towards each other and ‘high fived’, Jon now felt that he had well and truly broken the ice. He, all through their conversing, had been admiring her jewellery, but she hadn’t noticed as she had the knack of talking, keeping her eyes on the roulette wheel and placing her bets all at the same time! Jon followed her bets once again and they lost, but only a small amount in his case, Molly however had broken almost even apart from 50 euros on red, it was then that he decided to go for Liz’s system. He put 200 euros on red, “Just for fun,” he said to Molly, who didn’t bet. “That’s lucky, it won.” He continued to win with the formula, red, black, double up. It wasn’t fool-proof but it seemed to get near the house odds. At 1.30am Molly was very tired, she said and was going to ‘her wee bed.’ “Yes, me too,” he said, “maybe I’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight,” he said.

  “Goodnight,” she replied, and walked the slow wobbling walk that fat people do.

  How would he get his hands on those beautiful gems? His inner demon would soon help him with his quest. He checked the casinos, but didn’t see Molly for two nights, but on the third day, while cruising the Adriatic towards Corfu, he spotted her on the sundeck. He walked over to her table. “Hello my handsome friend, how are you?” she asked.

  “I’m fine,” he said, “like a leprachaun at dawn! Where have you been, dear lady?” he asked.

  “Oh, I wasn’t quite myself and had to rest, I had a wee angina attack. The doctors say I need a bypass, but I’m frightened to go under the knife, they open your chest you know,” she shook
her head and grimaced at the thought.

  “Don’t worry,” Jon said, “I’ll look after you, when possible,” he added.

  She giggled a girlish laugh, and said, “I’ll hold you to that!” The devil had spoken! “Will you be having a wee flutter tonight?” Molly asked.

  “No,” he said, “I’m having dinner with a friend.”

  “Oh well, not to worry, but you’ll be sadly missed,” and held his hand warmly.

  This is definitely in the bag, or rather, her jewellery is, he thought. The devil was coming to the forefront more often, the black mist descended again. But how, he thought, tipping 18 stone of dead weight over a balcony would be almost impossible, he would have to give that one a lot of consideration. “Hi Liz, it’s J.. er Keiron,” he said, that was nearly a stupid slip of the tongue.

  “Keiron, what’s happening my man?” she said in her Manhattan vernacular, “by the way, who’s J?” she asked.

  “Oh, I was about to say to the steward, just a second, he’s delivering my lunch,” he lied, this boy is a quick thinker!

  “How about we meet up this afternoon and enjoy some ray-catching?” she suggested.

  “Yes, that’ll be terrific, I’ll meet you at reception, shall we say 2.30pm?”

  “Yep, that’s great, see you then,” she replied.

  He watched TV news to see if his former face was being shown, after almost twenty minutes ... nothing. He hoped he had become old news. Did Liz want sunbathing or sex in the afternoon, he wondered. He hoped it was sunbathing, it was nearing 40 degrees centigrade, too hot for passion even with air conditioning and tepid showers. Perhaps later, when the sun went down, that way he could satisfy both Liz, and meet Molly in the casino later. Being a formal night Liz and Jon donned their finest dress-wear. He went to Liz’s suite to escort her to dinner, the door opened to reveal one of the loveliest feminine visions he had seen. “My, oh my, just look at my James Bond, you look amazing. Is that jacket silk?” she asked.

  “Er, yes,” he said.

  “It is gorgeous,” she added.

  “I don’t even come anywhere to the way you look!” he complimented.

  “Is that the blarney coming out?”

  “No, no,” he said, “ you are absolutely stunning.”

  “Okay, let’s close the mutual admiration society and go and eat, I’m starving,” she said, putting her arm through his. He noted that she was wearing the entire collection, fabulous he thought, absolutely fabulous! Dinner was a fairly sedate one, although the red wine with the fillet steaks did flow freely, but this was contrived by Jon. He sipped his slowly, while topping up Liz very generously when she wasn’t looking and pretending to top himself up at the same time.

  “I’d better order another bottle,” he said, “it’s only 9 o’clock, the night is very young.”

  “Yes,” Liz said, “this French merlot is so good with steak, or is the steak so good with the merlot?” They laughed. A second bottle was emptied with Liz having downed the lion share. She stood to go and ‘powder her nose’, but was unsteady on her feet.

  “I’ll see you to the door,” he said, “and wait outside, of course.”

  “Yes, honey,” she said, “I think you’d better do that!” It was agreed that she should go to her suite to lay down, “I’m sorry ‘James’, for spoiling your evening,” she said.

  “No, no, don’t worry, I just want you to be comfortable, and feel better.” He helped her on to the bed and she went into an alcoholic sleep almost there and then! Right, he thought, I’ll go back to the restaurant, act normal, finish dinner, sign the bill and go and find Molly. The large casino was packed but Molly wasn’t there. He was finally lucky when he saw her sitting in the lesser used, smallest one. “Hello Molly, me darlin’, how are you feeling tonight?”

  “Hello Keiron,” she said, “I’m not too bad, a little breathless so I brought my angina pump,” she said, showing him the small cartridge, “this little apparatus could be a life saver to me,” she added. Jon made a mental note of that.

  They sat together for about two hours, not winning but only losing a very small amount, Jon noticed that Molly had trouble breathing and kept rubbing the top of her chest. She didn’t wear much make-up so her grey colour was easily visible. “Molly,” he said, “I think you’d better call it a night, me darlin’, you don’t look well, I’ll see you to your suite,” he said.

  “Oh, thank you,” she said, “you are a good man.” He walked her slowly to the room, opened the door, and led her to the bed carefully but as he did she dropped to her knees gasping and holding her chest. She fell backwards on to the floor and went into unconsciousness. He looked through her bag and found the heart pump, not knowing what to do with it, he just left it on the dressing table. He felt for a pulse through her fat wrist, nothing. He then quickly removed all of her diamonds, and pressed the emergency button on the bedside phone.

  The First Officer and doctor were soon there, Jon put on an act of panic as they ran in to the room, “How long has she been like this?” the ship’s doctor asked.

  “About five or six minutes,” Jon replied. The doctor started pumping her chest, but to no avail, Molly was dead. Jon feigned sorrow, sitting on a chair with his head in his hands, “She was such a nice lady, only a little while ago we became gambling buddies,” he said with his Irish accent, “but I didn’t really know her.”

  “I’m sorry,” they said, “there’s nothing we can do now. I’ll need to speak to you later, er Mr?”

  “Er, Pearce, Keiron Pearce, stateroom 314C,” he answered, looking sadly down at the body, but inwardly laughing. The black mist was present again, but this time he had committed no crime, well, apart from robbing a corpse, anyway she didn’t need the diampnds any more.

  “We’ll be back with a couple of porters and a stretcher, er, are you all right to stay with her, sir?” the First Officer said.

  “Er, yes, I’m fine,” he said, “as long as it’s not too long,” he added. When they had gone he looked through her handbag, “Just what I was looking for,” he said, as he found a folded piece of paper with her room safe four digit number on it. Inside the safe he found £30,000 in euros and sterling, “Bingo!” he said, and stuffed the cash into his pocket, but he did leave £200 and credit cards in the box so it did not look like burglary. Slamming the safe door, he threw the piece of paper over the balcony. To look upset, he went just outside the door and waited for the stretcher bearers.

  Her body was taken away and the door sealed by the First Officer, “Thank you Mr Pearce, I’ll contact you some time tomorrow morning.” He (Jon) had wiped the safe door free of prints. He walked back to his stateroom, patting his pockets and saying to himself ‘mission accomplished’. Spreading the haul on his bed, he reckoned that he had won about £200,000 tonight, in cash and jewellery. Nice, he thought, and no one can possibly think badly of me. I didn’t kill Molly, it was a heart attack.

  St Petersburg

  Vasili paced up and down his office, his reputation as all powerful would be tainted if Jon Weston wasn’t caught and dealt with. There had been no news, sightings or word from his henchmen, he was furious. Perhaps he should go to Rome and direct operations himself, yes he thought, I’ll go. “Stephan, I’m going to Rome as soon as possible, make all the travel arrangements,” he barked into the phone. An executive jet waited for him on the edge of the airport. Stephan was a trusted, good servant, he used to be an enforcer back in the ‘90’s but arthritis had become his enforcer. He packed the wardrobe on the Lockheed with light-weight suits, mohair and silk made in Paris and linen, voile and silk shirts, all freshly laundered and cleaned. “Thank you Stephan,” Vasili said. Apart from family, he was the only one to hear please and thank you or the word ‘tavarich’. He would gladly die for Vasili who had rescued him and his family from a Siberian Gulag in the late 70’s. He gave Stephan a thousand ruble note and said, “Take your lovely wife to dinner.”

  “Thank you, Vasili,” Stephan said.

  Ro
me

  The private jet landed, Vasili walked over to the black-windowed Mercedes limousine. The car went directly to the penthouse apartment he kept above an exclusive building on the edge of St Peter’s Square. He went out on to the balcony and looked down at the crowds of tourists and sightseers, and said, “Are you down there Jon Weston? I will catch you and you will suffer the most painful death you can possibly imagine, believe me!”

  The Cesaro Roma

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Liz almost shouted as she reached yet another orgasm. She and Jon were spending the afternoon in bed at the request of Liz. After a light lunch and finding the sun too hot for sunbathing, it had sent most of the sun worshippers to find shade. But it was still about 100F and most of the sunbeds were vacant. All the bars were busy dispensing cold drinks. Liz and Jon showered and opted for some shopping at the mall. They sauntered in and out of the shops and said that they would meet at the end of the mall by the casino, if they missed each other. About an hour went by and they met as arranged, both carrying packages, “Look what I bought for you,” Liz said to Jon, and produced a New York City baseball cap.

  “I’m sorry Liz,” he said, “but I couldn’t wear that, it’s what yobs wear in the UK.”

  “Yobs?” she said, “What’s a yob?”

  “A yob, my darling, is a young backward boy who hangs around street corners and mugs old people,” he answered.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, “I’ll take it back and change it.”

  He sat on a long bench while she was gone, he counted 29 tall blond men in just fifteen minutes, good he thought, I am not alone! Liz returned and sat next to him, she opened a small jewel box to show him a New York City tie slide, yuk he thought, but lied when he said, “That’s nice,” and kissed her cheek, “now it’s my turn,” he said, and opened a package to reveal a silk pashmina in purple and pink.