[Scarlet Wilson 05] - Miz Scarlet and the Perplexed Passenger

by Sara M. Barton

  “And yet I don’t get my revenge for all the times that bum hit on my wife. I don’t know that I would find much satisfaction in that, Scar.”

  “You would if he had no choice but to credit you with solving the case for him,” I grinned. “After all, you’re a consultant for the cruise line, not one of his regular employees.”

  “Where did this sneaky side of you come from? I’m not used to you being so conniving, Miz Scarlet.”

  “I know. It is rather shocking, isn’t it? But don’t forget I’m Bur Wilson’s sister and you know what a cheese weasel he can be. He’s a master at figuring out how to work all the angles to get what he wants. I learned a long time ago to go around him. And I’ve spent a little time with Larry and Max when they were working police cases. Those two are downright devious when they’re pinning down a suspect.”

  “They are rather creative in their investigative approach, aren’t they?” he smiled. “So, let’s consider the possibilities. If the killer tossed the body overboard because it was his own cabin, we could reasonably identify him quickly by checking the cabin assignments on the decks above your cabin.”

  “Then again, maybe the killer murdered his victim in an unoccupied room,” I suggested. “Maybe the perp lured him there. But how would you figure out which room to use? It would have to be empty. Are there a lot of staterooms unoccupied on this cruise?”

  “Probably, but I don’t think that’s what happened.”

  “Why not?” I wanted to know. He seemed rather definite about that.

  “The stewards would have no reason to clean an unoccupied room. In fact, they wouldn’t even need to go into one. By the time the corpse was discovered, who’d remember all the people who passed by that cabin during the cruise?”

  I leaned back on the chaise lounge. He was right. “That means the killer killed his victim in a room that was scheduled to be cleaned, even if it wasn’t his stateroom. Why didn’t anyone on the housekeeping staff report any blood? Surely a stab wound in the back would involve blood spatter.”

  “The killer must have been able to wipe down any blood residue, which may mean he had time to do it.”

  “He’d need cleaning supplies,” I reminded him.

  “He would, but he could probably sneak them off one of the housekeeping carts left in the hallway...unless the victim was stabbed on the balcony. It would be easy to clean up any mess out there. I wonder if any time passed between the murder and when the body was actually thrown into the water. Thad and I should go back down to the infirmary and have another look after dinner. There might be sea water in the lungs.”

  “What’s Laurel supposed to do while we’re examining the body?”

  “While we’re what? No, no. You’re keeping your mother company while Thad and I are gone, Miz Scarlet. Besides, if we’re going to solve the case before this ship ties up to King’s Wharf tomorrow morning, you and I will have to work most of the night.”

  “Can I at least ask you what the victim did for a living, just in case it might be relevant to a motive for murder?”

  “He was a mortician.”

  “Say what?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Wow. I did not see that coming.”

  “It gets better. He owned his own funeral home in Caulkins Cove, Maine and specialized in arranging burials at sea.”

  “The guy who was murdered was an undertaker?”

  “Yes.” Kenny extended a hand and helped me up from the chaise lounge.

  “Why would someone want to do that to him?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine, love, but I do know that he was an avid fisherman, a member of his local chamber of commerce, and a popular Little League baseball coach, according to his wife.”

  “What you’re telling me is that the man wasn’t part of any criminal element?”

  “Remind me to have a word with Larry when we get back to the States.”

  “Don’t blame Larry. It was Ruth who filled me in on that one.” Max’s aunt was brought in to do surveillance duty at the Four Acorns Inn when we were being menaced last year. I made a point to bring her coffee and cake during the long hours she was stuck staring at the monitor, watching for signs of trouble. We killed time talking about Ruth’s career as a cop back in the day when women weren’t plentiful in law enforcement. She told me it often worked to her advantage, because the “perps”, as she called them, weren’t expecting her to flash a badge, let alone to cuff them. “Ruth could write a book about her experiences.”

  “And no doubt she will. But you don’t become an expert on crime by sitting at her side, listening to her tales of the good times, my love.”

  “No, I don’t. But that doesn’t rule out the possibility I might come up with a useful insight now and again,” I reminded him.

  “Touché!” he smiled indulgently, giving me a gentle poke in the belly. “Insights I’ll accept. You running around in some crazy hunt for a killer I will not.”

  By the time we got back to Stateroom 6615, the man from Mercer Security forced a promise from me not to discuss what he had shared with me about the case with anyone. “Don’t forget, Scarlet, that we do have a very real killer among us. You don’t want him to eavesdrop on conversations detailing our efforts to apprehend him.”

  “Fine, but you have to fill me in when you get back from the infirmary. I want all the details.”

  “I should have my head examined,” he sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “If it wasn’t for the fact that I’d love to knock Marley Hornsby on his keister, I’d never consider this cockamamie plan of yours.”

  “Desperate men do desperate things,” I teased, “and a deal’s a deal. Shall we shake on it?”

  I presented my hand, intending to honor the usual negotiating tradition, but Kenny went rogue on me with a long, passionate kiss that left me breathless.

  “See you in twenty minutes.” Releasing me from his embrace, he turned and retreated to Stateroom 6613.

  Laurel was sitting on the window seat, her gaze focused on the unfolding action in the Royal Promenade below. She was dressed in a rose-colored silk blouse and a white linen skirt, a delicate strand of pearls around her neck. Her purse was in the pouch of her wheelchair, her paisley shawl draped across the back of the seat. She was ready to go.

  “Sorry I’m late. I won’t be a tick.”

  “Take your time. I’m thoroughly enjoying myself.”

  I hurried to pull on a black sheath and pin up my hair. By the time I slipped on my heels and picked up my purse from the dresser, it was eighteen minutes later. A couple of knuckle raps on the connecting door did the trick. Thaddeus opened it, greeting us warmly.

  “You ladies look lovely this evening,” said the old charmer.

  “You look rather dashing yourself,” Laurel told him, maneuvering her wheelchair through the doorway.

  Kenny came out of the bathroom, wiping the shaving cream from his chin on a towel. “I’m running a little behind. There’s been a change of plans, to which I hope you will agree.”

  “What might that be?” Laurel wanted to know.

  “We’ve been asked to host the murder victim’s widow at our table for dinner this evening. Until the killer is caught, she may be in danger. My buddy, Marley Hornsby, wants her to feel like she’s part of a group this evening. I hope you don’t mind.”

  I couldn’t help it. I snickered in anticipation of the opportunity to get up close and personal with a very important witness in the case.

  “That summons up the famous Mary Howitt poem. ‘“Will you walk into my parlor,” said the Spider to the Fly. “‘Tis the prettiest little parlor you ever did spy.”’ I do believe that Marley just gave us tickets to the big show.”

  “You might say that,” he smiled, trying hard not to grin. Laurel was appalled by our behavior.

  “Now, Scarlet, we have no intention of duping this poor woman. She’s just lost her husband,” my mother reminded me. “We will treat her with dignity and compassion.”


  “Of course we will,” I agreed readily. “I wasn’t actually referring to her, Mom.”

  “Then who?”

  “Ah....” I looked at the man in the madras shirt.

  “Marley and I are competitors from way back, Mrs. W. I told Scarlet I’d like to solve the mystery to settle an old score.” Kenny gave my mother a big grin. “I hope you’re okay with that.”

  “Kenneth, I fear the Wilson family has become a bad influence on you.” She turned her disapproving gaze in my direction.

  “Hey, don’t blame me. These guys were in high school together. Their rivalry is decades old.”

  “Well, be that as it may, this woman has just lost her husband, so there will be no nonsense where she is concerned. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” I said.

  “Absolutely,” Kenny chimed in.

  “Now that’s settled, shall we?” Thaddeus opened the door to the corridor and we all filed out.

  We took the elevator down one floor and walked to the Botticelli dining room, where we were escorted to our seats by the courtly maître d whose name tag identified him as Jules. The round table was positioned by the balcony, overlooking the two lower dining rooms. I noticed there were five chairs.

  “Where would Madam like to sit this evening?” the man in the uniform asked Laurel.

  “By the railing, if you don’t mind. I love to have a good view.”

  “Of course.” He withdrew one of the chairs so that Laurel could pull her wheelchair into the empty spot.

  “There will be one other guest at your table this evening,” Jules announced. “I believe she is on her way as we speak.”

  Two minutes later, he was back. Holding his arm was a fifty-something woman dressed in a plain white top and a pair of turquoise slacks. On her wrists were shiny gold bangles that jangled as she moved. At first glance, she looked like any other cruise passenger. But the puffy eyes and quivering lip gave her away. There was no doubt the widow was taking her husband’s death hard.

  Thaddeus and Kenny got to their feet, nearly tripping over themselves to be the first to pull out her chair. She had just unfolded her linen napkin and placed it in her lap when Marley appeared.

  “I see you’ve all been seated. Kathleen Delaney, these are the people I told you about. Let me introduce you all, starting with the ladies.”

  Kathleen did her best to greet each of us, but it was obvious she was having trouble speaking. Her grief was too new.

  “And this is my old high school buddy, Ken Tolliver, the man I told you about.” Marley placed his hands on Kenny’s shoulders. “If you have any problems, you just let him know. I’m leaving you in capable hands.”

  “Thank you.” A tear dangled on her lower right eyelid for just a moment, and when she blinked, it made a dash for her cheek below, leaving a wet trail on her pale skin.

  Our waiter arrived to take our drink orders. “What would you like?”

  We went around the table. Laurel decided on white wine. I asked for a mango daiquiri. When it came to Kathleen’s turn, I assumed she would pass. I was surprised when she followed my lead.

  “I’ll have one of those too.” She pulled a couple of tissues from her purse and dabbed her eyes.

  Kenny asked for a scotch on the rocks. Thaddeus ordered a martini with an onion.

  “You’ll have to forgive me,” the new widow sniffed. “I’m not very good company tonight. It’s been a horrible day. I probably should have asked to be seated alone.”

  “Don’t be silly,” I replied, taking the bull by the horns. “We’re glad you could join us. We heard about the tragic death of your husband. I’m sure it’s a terrible shock. If it helps, I’m the only one sitting at this table that isn’t widowed.”

  Chapter Five --

  That little bit of news seemed to surprise her. She studied the faces of our dining companions, taking in their nods. “Really?”

  “Really. My husband had an unexpected heart attack and died on the spot,” my mother told her. “I was absolutely devastated. He was my Rock of Gibraltar.”

  “My wife was a passenger in a car that was struck by a tractor trailer on the highway. Rosemarie died instantly,” Thaddeus announced. I let out an involuntary gasp, shocked at the unexpected revelation. How many meals had I shared with the good doctor? It was the first time I’d ever heard him talk about his late wife.

  Kathleen turned to Kenny, waiting expectantly. He did not disappoint.

  “My wife had multiple sclerosis for years and was sometimes unsteady on her feet. One day she fell down some stone steps and hit her head. Jillian never regained consciousness.”

  The woman sitting at our table took a long breath, trying hard to compose herself. She filled her lungs with air, pursed her lips, and then slowly exhaled, as if trying to expunge the events of the day. For a moment, she teetered on the brink of success, but then a little sniff turned into a sob and that started another crying jag. We waited while she collected herself. At last she spoke.

  “You really do understand what I’m going through.”

  “Absolutely,” Thaddeus reassured her. “I still remember that punch to the gut, the disbelief.”

  “The first few days are difficult. You don’t know what to do or how to feel.” Laurel’s fingers curled around the stem of her water goblet. “The hours just seem to drag on.”

  “I just can’t believe he’s gone. George always said we were so lucky to find each other late in life. He’d been married before, but not me. This was only our second anniversary.”

  “At a time like this it helps to be with people who love you.

  “I wish I had some.” Kathleen took another swipe of her eyes with a tissue. “I’m on my own.”

  “No parents?” Thaddeus inquired of her, a kindly note in his voice. He took a sip of his drink, looking away briefly, politely, as she wiped another stray tear.

  “No. My parents died several years ago. My only sibling, Donna, died three years ago. She had two kids. They both live on the other side of the country. I do have a couple of adult stepchildren. Greg works...worked with his dad at the funeral home. Kayla is a school nurse. But I don’t really know them all that well.”

  “Oh, you poor dear,” my mother commiserated with her. “You need to have good support at a time like this, just to keep going.”

  “It sounds like they seated you at the right table,” I interjected into the conversation. I might not have lost a husband, but I understood loneliness and longing, and more than that, I understood what a chilling effect murder had on a family. Heaven knows I came close to dying more than once. I still woke up now and then in a panic, remembering the terror of looking into a killer’s eyes. That was probably not something I should share with the new widow. “You don’t have to worry about whether we understand what you’re going through, Kathleen. You’re among friends here.”

  “Thank you, Scarlet. It means a lot.”

  “Will you be flying back to the States once we dock in Bermuda?”

  “I don’t think so. The cruise line told me they would pay for a flight for me, but George’s body has to be autopsied. It will take a few days to get the results, so it’s not as if I have to plan a funeral any time soon. I don’t think I can bear to be in that house all by myself.”

  “I understand what you mean,” Kenny told her. “The house was suddenly so empty without Jillian. I threw myself into my work, just to avoid the endless, mind-numbing nights in front of the TV.”

  “Does it ever get better?” she asked. The three members of the Widow and Widowers Club heaved a collective sigh.

  “Eventually it does. It’s a long process, though,” Kenny warned her. Thaddeus raised his glass, agreeing.

  “Sometimes it feels like that ache will never go away. It subsides now and again. You learn to take it one day at a time, and after a while, you start to look forward to the good days.”

  My mother was watching Kathleen closely. I couldn’t fathom why, until she spoke.

&n
bsp; “The hardest thing is to avoid falling into the trap of giving up on life, Kathleen. You have to ask yourself what George would want you to do and then find the strength to go on. Sometimes it’s a lot of work to propel yourself forward, but when you get into the daily habit of doing it, it slowly becomes routine. That’s really what helped me the most, knowing that my husband would have wanted me to continue living a good life. ‘Gentleman George’, as I called him, had taken care of me through my struggles after I was crippled. The thing I regretted most was the fact that I didn’t have the chance to do the same for him, but we had no idea how damaged his heart was. I never had the chance to tell him all the things I appreciated about him or how deep my love really went. These we find out too late, when we’re suddenly without the one we love.”

  “His name was George too?” Kathleen seemed to cling to that fact like it was some magic talisman that Laurel handed to her. Maybe she thought that if Laurel got through widowhood, she could do it too. “Do you still miss him?”

  “I do,” my mother nodded. “But I am blessed to have the opportunity to discover new love and my life is certainly richer for it.”

  Laurel and Thaddeus exchanged a meaningful glance. For a second, I felt my throat tighten and thought about my dad. “Gentleman George” would surely approve of my mother’s choice of companion.

  That’s the thing about death; it changes the world as we know it. One day everything is fine and dandy; the next, it’s turned upside down and inside out. I knew all too well the need to summon up one’s courage when we most feel alone. No doubt Kathleen would face waves of sorrow head on in the coming days, as the reality of her husband’s brutal killing washed over her again and again. But she would remember this evening long after the ship had docked and use it to get herself through those difficult, heart-wrenching hours.

  After indulging in liqueur-laced coffees and decadent desserts, it was time to end our meal. Laurel and Thaddeus returned to Deck 6. Kenny and I walked the harrowed widow back to her quarters and waited while she opened the door to Stateroom 7310.