All by Myself, Alone

by Mary Higgins Clark

  Ten minutes later Morrison received a call from his firm’s public relations office. He was told that in addition to the rumor that Lady Em was murdered and her necklace was stolen, there were news reports saying that because of the story in People, Celia Kilbride was going to be questioned by the FBI again over her involvement in a hedge fund fraud. Since she was a guest lecturer on Queen Charlotte, he and the Captain should be ready to respond to questions from passengers.

  “I certainly ought to know,” Morrison barked. He hung up the phone and called for his chief of security to come back to his suite.

  When Saunders arrived, in a deadly calm voice, Morrison asked, “Were you aware that one of our lecturers, Celia Kilbride, is under suspicion for being involved in a fraud?”

  “No, I was not. The lecturers are booked by the entertainment director. Most of my focus, naturally, is on the passengers and Castle Line employees.”

  “When is Kilbride due to lecture again?”

  Saunders took out his iPhone, tapped it several times, and replied, “This afternoon in the theater. But it’s not another lecture; it’s a conversation with Mr. Breidenbach, the entertainment director, and she’ll also answer questions from the audience.”

  “Well, tell her to forget it. That’s all I need is for people to know that I hired a thief to give a talk on my ship!”

  Saunders replied carefully, “Mr. Morrison, I believe it is in our best interests to keep things as normal as possible for the balance of the voyage. Do you realize that if we cancel Ms. Kilbride’s appearance, in addition to disappointing the passengers who are planning to attend, we would be announcing that we suspect her of the theft and murder in Lady Haywood’s suite? Is this what we want to do?”

  “She’s a gemologist, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “So that means the talk will be about jewelry, right? Has it occurred to you that most of the passengers at the talk will know that Kilbride is being investigated for participating in a swindle?”

  “I would say, yes, they’ll know. However, in essence, since we know there was a homicide on board, and the Interpol agent did not mention her, you would also by default be saying that you think she was involved. There could be very unpleasant repercussions. If it turns out she is not guilty, she might come after you for defamation of character. I strongly, strongly suggest that you do not cancel her scheduled presentation.”

  Morrison considered. “Okay, if she’s up onstage for an hour, at least I’ll know she’s not in some other old lady’s suite killing her and stealing more jewelry. Leave it as scheduled. I will make it my business to be there to hear her.”

  65

  At twenty past three Celia stood in the wings of the auditorium. Peering around the curtain, she could see that almost every seat had been taken. Alvirah and Willy Meehan, Ted Cavanaugh, Devon Michaelson and Anna DeMille were in the front row. Also in the front row was a man she recognized as Gregory Morrison, the owner of the Queen Charlotte. Why is he here? she wondered, her mouth suddenly dry.

  The thought crossed her mind that a day ago Lady Emily had been in the first row as well. Involuntarily, her hand clutched the pocket where the bulky necklace was hidden.

  She heard her name being announced by Anthony Breidenbach, the entertainment director. Attempting a smile, she walked onstage and shook his hand as he spoke. “Celia Kilbride is a renowned gemologist from Carruthers in New York. Her expertise in appraising valuable gems as well as her knowledge of the history of their background has fascinated us in her previous lectures. Today is a little bit different. She will be answering questions from me, and afterward, the audience.” Celia and the entertainment director walked to chairs that were facing each other and sat down.

  “Celia, my first question is about birthstones and what they symbolize. Let’s start with amber.”

  “Amber is a stone astrologically linked with the zodiac sign of Taurus. Early physicians prescribed wearing it to ward off headaches, heart problems and many other ailments. Ancient Egyptians placed a piece of amber with their dead to assure that the body would remain whole,” Celia answered, comfortable now that she was on familiar ground.

  “How about aquamarine?”

  “That is the March birthstone, Pisces. It is thought to bring joy and happiness, and harmony in married life. The ancient Greeks thought it was sacred to their god Poseidon. It’s a great stone to take on vacations and cruises.”

  “Let’s go to some of the really expensive stones,” the entertainment director said. “How about diamonds?”

  “The diamond is the April birthstone, Aries.” Celia smiled. “It’s believed to bring forth purity, harmony, love and abundance. Those lucky enough to afford to buy one believed it made them safe from the plague.”

  “What about the emerald?”

  “Emerald is also a stone of Taurus. It is the May birthstone. It is supposed to secure love and attract wealth. During the Renaissance emeralds were exchanged among the aristocracy as symbols of friendship. It is the sacred stone of the goddess Venus.”

  “One more. Tell us about gold.”

  “It doesn’t have its own spot on the astrology calendar. It is intimately linked with divinity and those gods associated with the sun. It is a symbol of good health. Gold earrings were thought to strengthen the eyes, and among sailors and fishermen to prevent one from drowning.”

  The moment she finished that sentence, Celia thought of Roger Pearson. If the entertainment director had the same thought, he did not show it.

  “All right, now it’s the audience’s turn,” Breidenbach said. “Please raise your hand if you have a question. My assistant will bring the microphone to you.”

  Celia had been concerned that the first question would be about the Cleopatra necklace. Instead it was from a woman who asked about the emerald-and-diamond necklace Sir Alexander Korda had purchased for the actress Merle Oberon in 1939.

  “That necklace was magnificent,” Celia told her. “It had twenty-nine emeralds. It is believed they are the same shape and size, the same stones in fact, as those that previously adorned regal maharajas in India in the fifteenth century.”

  As soon as Celia finished, at least a dozen hands went up. The questions followed in quick succession: “What is the history of the Hope diamond?” “What about the jewels in the British coronation crown?” “Was it true that the tradition of giving diamond engagement rings resulted from a successful De Beers marketing campaign in the 1930s?” One that brought a laugh was “Was the ring that was stolen from Kim Kardashian worth four million dollars?”

  It was at the very end of the session that a question was asked about the Cleopatra necklace. “Was it really stolen and was Lady Haywood murdered?”

  “I have no idea if the necklace was stolen,” Celia answered. “And I have no reason to believe the rumor that Lady Haywood’s death was not from natural causes.”

  Score one for you, Morrison thought. He felt relieved that he had decided to allow Kilbride’s presentation to go forward. That is, until the final questions.

  “Ms. Kilbride, many of us, including you, were at the Captain’s cocktail party and the dinner that followed. We saw Lady Emily wearing the Cleopatra necklace. Despite the widely circulated rumors that it has been stolen, the ship insists it was not. Can you confirm this?”

  “No one from the ship has contacted me about the necklace,” Celia said uncomfortably.

  “And wasn’t there a curse on the necklace that said anyone who brought it to sea would not reach shore alive?”

  Celia’s mind was filled with the thought of Lady Em joking about the curse. “Yes,” she said. “According to legend, a curse along those lines is associated with the necklace.”

  “Thank you, Celia Kilbride, and thank you to everyone in our audience,” Breidenbach said as he stood up and the audience began to applaud.

  66

  Yvonne, Valerie Conrad and Dana Terrace had attended Celia’s lecture. Afterward they went down to t
he Edwardian Bar for a cocktail. Yvonne had explained to her friends that she simply could not bear to be alone in her suite. “Every moment that I’m in there,” she said, her voice trembling and sad, “I see Roger. And I live again that terrible moment when he leaned back, then raised his arms as he fell. I was at the door of the balcony and I warned him, ‘Roger, please don’t sit on the railing. You’ll fall overboard.’

  “He laughed and said, ‘Don’t worry, I’m a good swimmer.’ ” She managed to squeeze a tear out of her right eye.

  Valerie and Dana cooed in sympathy. “It must have been so awful for you,” Valerie said. “I can’t imagine anything so horrible,” Dana joined in.

  “I’ll have to live with that memory every day of my life,” Yvonne lamented.

  “Have you thought about funeral arrangements or a memorial service?” Dana asked.

  “I’ve barely been able to think straight,” Yvonne said. “But of course I’ll have a memorial service. I think two weeks from now would be appropriate under the circumstances.” And by then I should have the insurance money, Yvonne thought.

  “I heard about the ceremony where the man scattered his wife’s ashes,” Dana said.

  “At least he had her ashes to throw over,” Yvonne replied.

  “Yvonne, we hope you’re going to be okay,” Valerie said as she patted Yvonne’s hand. “Did Roger have life insurance?”

  “Yes, he did, thank God. He had a five-million-dollar policy. But, of course, we have other assets, stocks and bonds.”

  “Well, that’s good because I’m pretty sure the insurance company won’t pay right away unless the body is recovered.”

  Yvonne hadn’t thought of that potential delay. She made a silent prayer of thanksgiving that Lady Em had been murdered before she was able to order an outside review of her finances.

  “Yvonne, it’s much too early to say this, but try to look ahead,” Valerie said. “You’re attractive. You’re young. You don’t have children or other baggage. You’ll be a wealthy widow. I’m sorry about poor Roger, but there is a bright side to all this. If you had been divorced, you would have had to split everything with Roger. This way you get it all.”

  “Oh, I never thought of it like that,” Yvonne murmured, as she shook her head.

  “We’ll be on the lookout for a suitable guy for you,” Dana promised.

  Having settled Yvonne’s future over a second cocktail, they turned their attention to Celia Kilbride.

  “That lecture was actually very interesting,” Yvonne said.

  “She certainly doesn’t look like anyone who would suffocate an old woman,” Valerie observed. “You were sitting with her, Yvonne. What was your impression of her when you met her with the other people at the table?”

  “Pretty quiet, but I guess she has a lot on her mind. I wouldn’t want to be interrogated by the FBI.” And I would be if Lady Em were still alive, she thought. For all I know Roger might have included my name on some of the documents he used to cover the theft. If Celia is the one who killed Lady Em, I say, “God bless her.”

  “If Celia has the necklace, what is she going to do with it?” Dana asked. “I mean it’s priceless. But unless she sells it to a Saudi prince, I don’t know who would buy it.”

  “My guess is that she’d break it up into individual emeralds,” Valerie chimed in. “She’d get a fortune for every one of them. Don’t forget, she’s in the business. She must know plenty of buyers who wouldn’t question the source.”

  The three turned their attention to Ted Cavanaugh. “Beyond handsome,” they agreed.

  “And did you notice how he was trying to get close to Lady Em? The first night when Lady Em took a seat at a table, he rushed to get the table next to hers,” Yvonne said. “I was sitting next to Lady Em and I could see that he almost knocked over people to grab the table to our left. He sat with the lottery winners, Devon Michaelson, the bereaved widower who probably had a girlfriend even before his wife’s death, and the church lady from the Midwest . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “What about the Shakespeare guy?” Dana asked.

  “The one whose eyebrows keep going up and down,” Valerie suggested as she imitated him with her own eyebrows.

  “Exactly,” Dana verified. “I would say he doesn’t look like the type of person who would kill anyone.”

  “No, but he sure enjoys talking about murder,” Yvonne insisted. Her voice deepened, “ ‘Out, damn spot! Out, I say! Will all the waters in the ocean wash this blood from my hands?’ Or something like that.”

  Dana and Valerie went into gales of laughter. “You do a great Lady Macbeth,” Dana said. “Now, what’s wrong with having another Manhattan cocktail?”

  “Absolutely nothing,” Valerie agreed as she signaled for the waiter.

  67

  Ted Cavanaugh attended the jewelry discussion and was impressed by Celia’s speaking skills as she answered all the questions that were tossed at her. He was also once again aware of the fact that she was a beautiful woman. And he admired her poise as she handled a question about Lady Em’s death.

  Everyone in the audience had to have been aware of the People article and its allegation from her former fiancé that she conspired with him on the theft, Ted thought.

  After it was over, a number of people in the audience waited to speak with her. As the last one left, Ted got up and stopped Celia near the door. They had exchanged greetings at the cocktail party, but that was all.

  He said, “Celia, I hope you remember me from the Captain’s cocktail party. Ted Cavanaugh,” he said, extending his hand. “After all that talking, your throat must be dry. Why don’t we have a glass of wine or a cocktail?”

  Celia’s first instinct was to refuse, but she hesitated. She definitely did not look forward to being alone with the constant weight of her thoughts. And the weight of the necklace, she added silently.

  “That would be nice,” she answered.

  “The Regency Bar is nearest. Why don’t we try it?”

  “Sounds fine to me.”

  A few minutes later the waiter was placing their drinks on the table. Chardonnay for Celia, vodka on the rocks for Ted.

  Ted followed his plan to stay away from raising the topic of Lady Em’s death or the Cleopatra necklace. Instead he asked, “Celia, you must have done a lot of studying to become such a knowledgeable gemologist. Is there a special kind of school that you attended?”

  It was an easy question on a safe topic. “I went to England after college and became a fellow at the Gemological Institute of Great Britain. But as one of the professors said, ‘It takes a lifetime to become a master gemologist.’ ”

  “How did you become interested in that as a career?”

  Ted did not miss the troubled expression on Celia’s face. Celia was recalling that she had had a similar conversation with Professor Longworth only a few days ago, about how she got started in the jewelry business. Was it only a few days? She recalled being uncomfortable then, but for whatever reason she felt comfortable talking to Ted Cavanaugh.

  “My father was a gemologist. When I was little, I loved to put jewelry, fake of course, on my dolls. He began to teach me the difference between the fakes and the really good stuff, and how to use a loupe.” Then she added, “He died two years ago. He left me two hundred fifty thousand dollars, which I lost in a scam.”

  She looked directly at him. “I read about what happened to you,” Ted admitted.

  “Then you know that a lot of people think I was in on the fraud and I helped cheat them out of their hard-earned money.”

  “I read the account your ex-fiancé gave to People magazine—”

  “It’s a total lie!” Celia said heatedly.

  Ted considered, then responded. “If it’s any consolation, I simply can’t envision you as a thief. Or a murderer.” Why am I making a statement like that? he asked himself. Because it’s true, he thought.

  “Why would he do this to me?”

  “I think the obvious
first reason is revenge that you didn’t stick by him. The second obvious reason is that he’s looking for a better plea deal from the U.S. Attorney’s Office. He basically confessed in the article, but he knows they already have the evidence to convict him. He’s telling them that you were involved and he’ll cooperate with them against you. I really think that’s what’s going on.”

  “But I was a victim too,” Celia protested.

  “I know that, Celia, I know that.”

  He went back to a safe subject. “You said that your father was a gemologist and that he died two years ago. How about your mother?”

  “She died when I was a baby.”

  “Brothers? Sisters?”

  “None. My father never remarried. And can you believe I’m angry at him that he didn’t? I would love to have brothers and sisters.”

  Ted thought of his own background. His mother and father were still in great shape, and they and his two brothers were a frequent presence in his life. “I’m sure you have a lot of good friends?”

  Celia shook her head. “I used to. I’m afraid I lost some very good friends, the ones who invested in Steven’s fund.”

  “Surely they don’t blame you?”

  “I introduced them to Steven and he has a golden tongue. That doesn’t make me very popular with them. My friends weren’t wealthy. It really hurt them when they lost their money.”

  I’ll bet that it hurt you too, Ted thought, but didn’t voice the opinion. Instead he leaned back, took a sip of his drink, looked at Celia. He was sure to his very soul that she was innocent of Lady Em’s murder and that she was not a thief. Her eyes are so sad, he thought. She’s been through so much.

  68

  Brenda attended Celia’s presentation and admitted to herself that Celia was very knowledgeable about gems. She had been getting close to Lady Em, Brenda thought. I wouldn’t be surprised if Lady Em had asked her to take a close look at the picnic bracelet. But even if she did, it would be Celia’s word against mine, she reassured herself. And certainly with her fiancé implicating her in a crime, I’ll bet they won’t believe a word Celia says.