After putting his blowpipe into the furnace to gather the glass for the stopper, Eric pulled it back out and frowned like Zeus. “The power’s out! Alan, check the circuit breakers.”
Alan ran over to stage left and pulled the circuit breaker door open. “Everything looks good,” he yelled. “Is it heating?”
Eric was standing in front of the furnace. He opened the door and at a glance could tell that the molten glass was beginning to cool. “No, reset the whole bank.”
Alan started from the top bank of circuit breakers, flipping them off and then flipping them on again. He did that for each row in the cabinet. “Okay, that’s the lot.”
Eric cracked open the furnace and stood for a long minute. “Great! It’s back on.” He turned to the audience. “Whew! That’s a relief.”
Savannah signaled for the crowd to applaud.
“I don’t think I’ve ever created a successful stopper after the oil container has cooled. I need to have made the bottle right before the stopper.” Eric gathered a small bit of clear glass and efficiently fashioned the stopper. It was a simple straightforward effort with no artistic flourishes. He didn’t want to risk another power outage.
Eric had made at least two olive oil bottles each cruise for several months. He was a master. The crowd applauded loud and long after he finished.
It didn’t hurt that I was able to explain what he and Alan were doing with some humor. Dad always said I had my mom’s quirky sense of humor.
It was also good to bring some excitement to the performance by telling the audience when the risky bits were about to happen. After she turned over the wireless microphone to Eric, she assisted Alan in forming a spiraled ornament. The new part of the process was pressing a bulb of molten glass into a cast-iron mold that resembled a flowerpot with ridges on the inside. Alan had to stand on a bench so the molten glass remained in the mold while he blew some air into the form. After removing it from the mold he smoothed out the ridges on the stainless-steel marver table. Then he sat on the glassblowing bench and used a pair of pinchers to give the ornament a twist. He executed the process with confidence and created a blue and white ornament about the size of a large grapefruit.
Eric turned to the audience. “Thank you for your attention and your patience during our power issues. The pieces that we made today will be up for auction on the last evening of the cruise. We’ll be hanging around for a little bit if you have some further questions.” He bowed slightly, and the crowd stood and displayed their appreciation in applause. He removed the microphone from his head. “Thanks, guys, that was a great performance. Savannah, did I see you get a burn?”
“Yes, but it’s relatively small. I’ve already applied ointment.”
“Let me have a look.”
Savannah showed him the burn.
“That is going to be painful for a few days. Because we’re on a cruise ship, you must be extremely careful to avoid an infection. Get that taken care of down in the medical bay. You simply cannot walk around with an open wound. You must also wash your hands even more frequently. I’ll bet the nurse asks you to re-apply the antiseptic cream ten or more times a day.”
“Sure, thanks.” Savannah helped the team square away the Hot Shop. “Don’t we have a little break since today is a port day?”
Eric smiled. “Yes, we hardly ever give a demonstration while docked. Sounds a bit silly, doesn’t it? It would be so much safer for us, but on the other hand, no one would be here.”
Savannah smiled. “Are you going off the ship?”
Alan answered, “You bet. I know a small café that offers free Wi-Fi at monster-fast speeds. I download all the movies I can while I’m here.”
Eric squinted at Alan. “I’ll be hanging around the dock area. There is also a convenience store nearby that sells international phone cards at a great price.”
* * *
Savannah caught up with Edward at the Passport Bar down on the Promenade deck after she went to the medical facility down on deck 2. It was a madhouse down there because it was also the boarding/ exiting area for the port stop, Provence. She had to make her way upstream through the waiting lines of passengers who wanted to be first off the ship.
Edward had a nearly empty Guinness sitting in front of him with a full one waiting for her. She took a large swig. “Thanks, I needed that after that painful performance.”
“What happened? I saw you flinch, but you didn’t miss a beat.”
“I burned myself on the blowpipe. I lost concentration for a second, so now I’ll pay the price.” She showed him the burn that had a thick coating of a burn ointment.
“Shouldn’t that be wrapped?”
“I wouldn’t let them do that. It would be distracting, which equates to dangerous while working the molten glass. It will be fine—I just need to keep it slathered in ointment. I heal quickly.”
“The Rosenberg twins have invited us to dinner this evening with their new beaus.”
“Beaus?” Savannah threw back her head and laughed out loud. “Did they really say that or is that a Brit phrase?”
Edward caught her infectious laugh and they both dissolved into a giggling fit. Savannah recovered first. “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “It’s really not that funny, but it sure took me that way.”
“I think it’s probably a near hysterical reaction to all the stress around Ian’s disappearance.” Edward wiped the tears from his eyes with the backs of his hands. “It’s not a Brit thing, that’s what Rachel called them. Anyway, I accepted for us. They said to show up at six o’clock. The dress code is smart casual.”
“Edward,” Savannah said in a musing tone, “I don’t feel like we’re our usual selves in this investigation.”
“I feel the same. Could it be simply because this investigation is uncovering my shirty past?” Edward also dropped his voice to a near whisper. “Has that changed your feelings?”
“No, but I feel a little hurt.”
“Hurt? Why?”
“I guess I’m reacting to my whirling thoughts about your troubled youth. If we hadn’t taken this cruise, would you ever have told me about your London days?”
“Fair question.” Edward looked directly into Savannah’s eyes. “I can’t prove it now, I know, but I was planning to tell you about it before the end of the cruise.”
“You’re right. It’s unprovable.”
“I hope you believe me. It’s crucial that we trust each other,” said Edward.
“Well, I trust you, but now there’s a little doubting voice in my head that will take some time to overcome. This has not turned out to be the relaxing cruise we were expecting.”
“Plus, the fact is that this investigation is focused on the history of my family, not someone in the St. Petersburg art community,” said Edward.
“That had occurred to me. Our other investigations were either close to me or associated with someone in the local art community. This is different. This is your family.”
“I don’t think I really appreciated the emotional trauma you must have suffered at the time.” He paused and took her hand in both of his. “I had no idea.”
“Maybe not, but you did all the right things.”
“Meaning?”
“You didn’t get impatient with my emotional reactions. You didn’t stand in the way of my obsessive need to investigate. You stood beside me anyway.”
“That’s what I’ll always do—I just didn’t understand how important it was.”
Edward folded Savannah into his arms and held her tight.
Minutes later, Savannah cleared her throat. “Did the ladies say six o’clock?”
Edward released her and gazed into her eyes. “Yes they did, but I am beginning to appreciate how important it is to savor the important moments.”
“We are in total agreement, but the ladies will get anxious if we’re not on time.” She sealed their parting with a warm kiss.
Savannah hurried down to her cabin, and as she turned down the corridor
she collided with Sally Maggio; they both fell to the floor in a heap.
Savannah recovered first and pulled Sally up by one arm. “Sally! What on earth are you doing on this deck? You aren’t allowed here.”
Sally brushed off the sleeves of her black blouse. “I was curious. I thought I saw Ruth down here, and her only mission, of course, would be to find Ian.”
“Why?” Savannah shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t get it.”
Grabbing Sally by her upper arms, Savannah pulled her around to face her. “Do you mean you think she saw Ian?”
“Yes, and I think Ian saw Ruth.” Sally wriggled out of Savannah’s grasp. “Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you.”
Putting her hands out in front with the fingers spread wide, Savannah said, “Calm down. I’m trying to make sure you don’t get into trouble for being in the staff area. You can actually be taken off the ship at port for violating your terms of passage.”
“What?”
“Yes, indeed. Packed and disembarked at port. They have the right to do that. Didn’t you read the terms and conditions? You signed them in order to come aboard.”
Sally turned pale and looked up and down the corridor. “I didn’t read them.”
“No one does. Don’t worry. I can get you back to the public area. Follow me.”
Savannah took Sally by the arm and led her into one of the crew elevators. Luckily, it was empty.
They walked over to a crew access door. Savannah opened it wide and neatly pulled Sally onto the deck 14 jogging track. “You’re fine here. Follow the track to the next set of sliding doors. That will take you to one of the public sets of elevators.”
Sally let out a huge breath. “Thanks, I didn’t realize that was such a taboo.”
“No problem, but do me a favor.”
“Sure, if I can,” said Sally.
“Have Ruth call me.” Savannah searched her pockets for a slip of paper but only found a café napkin. She at least had a pen and wrote on it. “Here’s my cabin phone number and my cell number as well. Leave me a message when you find her. I want to make sure she hasn’t seen Ian. Or better, I want to know if she has seen Ian.”
Shaking her head in disbelief at the behavior of the two sisters, Savannah went along to her cabin and changed into her only little black dress, wearing black pumps and topped by one of her handmade glass pendant necklaces. She met Edward at the elevators. He was dressed conservatively in a blue oxford shirt, tan slacks, and navy jacket. He looked her up and down. “I’m always surprised by how lovely you look in this dress.”
“Well, if you only have one cocktail dress, it had better be well-fitting, versatile, and look expensive.”
Edward kissed her on the cheek and then knocked on the suite door.
It was immediately answered by Albert, the Rosenberg twins’ full-time butler. He was an amenity included with the cost of their suite. Albert was dressed in tails with a white bow tie and wore white gloves. His pencil-thin black mustache did nothing for the ruddy color of his face, but at least it matched his closely trimmed thick black hair. “Madam and sir, welcome to the penthouse suite.” He stepped back to let them enter. “You will find the Misses Rosenberg in the lounge with the Messers VanGilden.”
Savannah led the way into a large living room with floor to ceiling sliding glass doors, baby grand piano, two sofas, a full bar, and a gigantic television. A dining table was placed in front of a wall of mirrors. She could feel her eyebrows raise as she walked farther into the room. Each twin was seated on a sofa with one of the VanGilden twins. For a moment, Savannah felt disoriented with the surreal sensation that a mirror was splitting the room.
Faith Rosenberg popped up from the far sofa to give her a hug. “Hi, dear. Please come in. Have you met our butler, Albert?” Faith whispered, “He’s an absolute treasure. We couldn’t begin to manage all the complicated arrangements for the entertainment, the specialty restaurants, and excursion venues without him.”
Rachel also stood. “He’s also fantastic about getting us meals from the specialty restaurants without actually having to go. I haven’t eaten so well in years.”
Faith said, “You recall that we have become acquainted with the VanGilden brothers?” She pointed to the nearest brother. “This one is Richard and that is his brother, Rickard.”
Richard stood and shook hands with Edward and kissed Savannah’s hand. “Pleased to see you. I understand that we missed you for dinner last night. It was a simple misunderstanding. We had invited the ladies to one of the specialty restaurants and we promised to have your main dining room waiter give you the news. It was simply a failure in communications. It was a dreadful faux pas.”
Rickard agreed. “Yes, the meal at Murano on deck 5 is reliably spectacular but a little pricey. We used our sign-up bonus points to treat the four of us.”
Rachel added, “The theme is Continental with a tilt toward new French.”
Faith ticked off on her fingers. “We enjoyed an appetizer, soup and salad, fish course, sorbet, meat course, and dessert.”
“One more thing, if you don’t mind,” said Richard. “We deplore being called Rich and Rick. We’ll basically only answer to Richard and Rickard. Our parents named us after their fathers. We’ve fought against those dreaded nicknames since birth. Nightmare, really.”
Rickard repeated the hand-kissing ritual with perfect ease. “Nothing really helped, as these ladies know.”
Savannah felt a little dazed by their obviously practiced routine. “No problem . . . Richard and Rickard it is.”
“Shall we sit at the table?” Rachel waved her hand toward the beautifully set table for six beyond the sitting room. “Albert is twitching to start our meal service.”
The VanGilden twins each helped one of the Rosenberg twins sit across from each other on a long side of the oblong table. The gentlemen sat across from each other as well, leaving Edward and Savannah at the ends of the table.
After they were seated, Albert stood by Edward at the head of the table. “Would you care for a cocktail, sir?”
Looking up at Albert, Edward sat silent with a puzzled look on his face.
“He makes the most spectacular Cosmopolitans,” said Faith.
“As well as perfect martinis,” said Richard.
Edward broke from his reverie and ordered a dirty martini, and Savannah said she would try a Cosmopolitan. “You ladies are always saying how much you enjoy them. It’s time I tried one.”
Rachel cleared her throat. “I’ve also signed Richard and Rickard up for the Charity Walk on the last day of the cruise.”
“It’s a good way to get some walking in our last day at sea,” said Faith. “Have you two been running at all? It’s a wonderful track.”
“I like the track,” said Richard. “It has two clear lanes marked out.”
“One for the runners and a separate one for the walkers,” said Rickard. “Perfect for us old geezers to stay active but not get run over.”
Albert stood at the bar and effectively entertained them with his practiced flourishes in producing the six drinks. When they had their drinks and Albert served two baskets of hot bread, Faith turned to Edward. “It’s also a wonderful thing how concerned Albert is about Ian.”
There was a crash as one of the serving platters that Albert was polishing bumped into the granite countertop of the wet bar, plummeted to the floor, and shattered to pieces. Conversation stopped, and everyone looked at Albert.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for my little accident. Please don’t mind. It is nothing.”
Faith pointed to the sleeve of his starched white shirt. “You’re bleeding, Albert.” A crimson stain was spreading from the cuff and wicking up the sleeve.
“Dio santo!” He shrugged out of his topcoat, avoiding the bloody cuff, then grabbed a napkin to staunch the bleeding at his wrist.
Am I to be constantly plagued by broken crockery? That broken teapot is jinxing me and everyone around me.
S
avannah rose out of her chair. “Let me see.”
Albert pulled his hand behind his back. “Madam, please, it’s nothing to worry about. A tiny cut.”
“Nonsense. I work with glass shards every day. You might have cut an artery! It’s possible for a sliver to work itself into your bloodstream. This is serious.” She reached out her hand to him.
He huffed his irritation, but removed the napkin and stretched out his arm. Savannah took his wrist in her hand and examined the cut. “It’s deep, but you missed everything important. Go down to the medical staff and get that dressed right away. Septic poisoning is a real danger with a bleeding wound.”
“I can’t leave during dinner service. I am still on my probation. Any time lost to an injury could count against me. I could lose my position.” His face drained to chalk. “It took many years to work my way up to this level.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his good hand. “Please, let me serve your dinner. Then, I promise that I will go directly to the medical team.”
Savannah didn’t believe him. “You know that’s impossible. Blood and food never mix. It’s lucky that you’re nowhere near any open food dishes.” She paused. “But I understand completely about not wanting to lose your job.” She turned to Rachel. “Do you have a first aid kit?”
“Of course,” said Faith. “We each have one. I’ll get mine. One moment.” She went into one of the suite’s master bedrooms.
While Faith was fetching the kit, Savannah moved Albert to the bar and placed his wrist on one of the bar towels and used another as a compress. Faith returned with a white plastic zippered case with a large red cross on the sides. Faith placed the travel-sized kit on the wet bar.
“Here, Albert, keep pressure on with your other hand.” Savannah rummaged through the well-appointed kit and withdrew antiseptic cream, wrapping gauze, scissors, and first aid tape. “How did you lose your grip?”
Albert flushed a deep red. “My mind wandered. I apologize.” It took Savannah only a few minutes to bandage Albert ready for service. “Amazing, Miss Savannah. Gratzi.” He flexed his wrist and put his coat back on. “You are so efficient.” His little mustache wrinkled. “We haven’t even lost the delivery timing for this bella perfect meal. It is being delivered right now. Sit. Sit. I have a pair of latex gloves to make serving super, super, safe.”
Shattered at Sea Page 12