Cruising to Murder

by Mark McCrum

  ‘And then, on the next but one cruise, from Auckland to Dunedin round the coast of New Zealand, I was talking about her amazing contribution to another guest, an American lady, and she suddenly decided she wanted to give us the bulk of her fortune too. I was very excited, obviously; but then, when she got home, one of her children persuaded her out of it. I was so disappointed about that, because she had been very sincere when she’d been chatting to me, and it was a lot of money we’d been promised. So then, one night, discussing it all with Carmen …’

  ‘I talked her into it,’ said Carmen. ‘Why not just make sure of things while the benefactors are still at sea? Jesus, they’re way past their sell-by date.’

  ‘They’re all alone in the world,’ the doctor continued. ‘They hate going home. That’s what they always say: “It’s so much fun on the cruise, but then I have to go home to an empty house.” So why not save them from that? I have the drugs. A hundred milligrams of Propofol finishes them off, in an entirely painless way. I certify their deaths, so there’s no need for an autopsy.

  ‘But you’re right. Captain Andrushenko had started asking questions. More to the point, Alexei was seriously suspicious of me. So yes, I thought I would, as you put it, call their bluff.’ She turned to Carmen. ‘Shall I go on?’

  ‘You might as well.’

  The doctor looked almost relieved. ‘I had the idea about the dry ice on the trip from Argentina to Cape Town. One of the guests passed out at one of the evening shows that Gregoire and Viktor organize and had to be revived. That little faint only lasted a minute, but it gave me an idea. In a sealed room, as you said so correctly, you suffocate, if the levels are high enough. And yes, the only sign is a slightly raised concentration of carbon dioxide in the blood. A lab wouldn’t question that, especially if I’d already correctly noted appropriate symptoms, such as the bloodshot eyes. It was me insisting on the autopsy. What more could I do to reassure the captain that I had nothing to do with these onboard deaths? Especially if it wasn’t what he wanted. My stand was proof that I was not what the first officer thought I was.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Francis. ‘That’s very brave of you to tell me that. I totally understand how you could have done it. And now the Rising Star Trust supports charities right across the world.’

  ‘It does.’

  ‘You weren’t to know that Lauren would work out what you were up to, or that poor George would be up late checking the lifeboats.’

  ‘No,’ said the doctor, her voice trembling. ‘I could never … George … I mean, I didn’t think in a million years … It was two a.m.’

  ‘Alyssa,’ said Carmen. ‘Come on. We weren’t to know.’

  ‘But still. He had children …’

  ‘And they’re alive.’

  ‘Orphaned,’ she said with a sob.

  ‘May I ask,’ said Francis, after a few moments, ‘if your parents are alive?’

  Alyssa met his eyes. ‘No. They died when I was little. In a car accident in Manila. And so, yes, I was myself in a home for two years. Before I was moved to my new family.’ She had taken a handkerchief from Carmen, and was wiping her face, trembling as she did so. ‘I was lucky,’ she went on. ‘They were not just kind, but also wealthy. So I was sent at a young age to the best schools. I would never have become a doctor if I had not had the support of my new family.’

  ‘And your new parents are still alive?’

  ‘Yes. They are very proud of me. Of course, they have no idea about the Rising Star Trust.’

  ‘For what it’s worth,’ said Francis, after a few moments, ‘I was adopted too. My time in care was mercifully short, and I have no memory of it, but I’m always aware that things might have been very different for me. I’m on your side, put it that way.’

  There was silence. Way over in the village, the wailing and chanting had tailed off, but the pounding of the drums was continuing. Francis glanced at his watch. It was a quarter to four. They had just over an hour before they had to leave the island.

  It was Carmen who broke the silence. ‘I’m impressed, mate,’ she said. ‘It makes me wonder how much of this you’d worked out when we were going around together interviewing people. And whether your petulant little protests about me passing on information to Viktor and the captain were just a smokescreen.’

  ‘No, I was sincere about that. It was bloody annoying.’

  ‘Maybe it was. But we have a problem now. Because we can’t really let you go back to the ship, can we?’

  She reached down to her waistband and drew out a hunting knife. It was a good six inches long. As she held it up, it glinted dangerously in a beam of sunlight that shafted down from the thick foliage above.

  ‘Expedition blade,’ she said. ‘Don’t think I’d be afraid to use it.’

  Francis didn’t move. ‘Don’t be silly,’ he said. ‘We’re all grown-ups here. I’m not a policeman.’

  ‘It’s hard to explain how it feels,’ Carmen said, ‘when you’ve killed someone. Especially when you are not a naturally violent person. You wake up each morning and it takes you half a minute to remember. That that’s what you’ve become. A murderer. There’s no escape from that. And no escape from the fact that people are trying to find you out. Clever people like you, Francis. That one stupid slip could give you away.’

  She was pacing back and forth, holding her knife up in front of her, dramatizing her position of power. Francis glanced rapidly across the clearing and wondered whether he could outpace them through the woods, a seven-hundred-yard dash back to safety in the village. He doubted it. He could shout, of course, but that would hardly be heard against all that wailing and drumming.

  ‘I shan’t forget,’ Carmen went on, ‘that scream Lauren let out when I tipped her over the railings. Never. Even though she was an unhappy woman, she didn’t want to die.’ She shook her head, slowly. ‘I caught her totally by surprise, so it took her a second to realize … It was horrid, that noise as she went down. And yes, poor George. I don’t think either of us anticipated the … collateral damage.’

  Francis was thinking fast; somehow, he needed to talk this maniac round. Softly, softly, he told himself, don’t show your fear.

  ‘Why d’you think I followed you into the woods?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know. Because you were curious. Because you wanted to confirm that what Klaus had told you was true?’

  ‘Who said it was Klaus?’

  Carmen laughed. ‘Don’t worry. I saw him. Silly old fool. I hardly thought that he would tell anyone – let alone you.’

  ‘OK,’ said Francis. ‘You’re right about that. But I also came because I wanted to sort this out before we went back to the ship. I wanted to tell you that in the circumstances I didn’t necessarily want to turn you in.’

  ‘Necessarily?’ Carmen repeated. ‘That sounds very convincing. And convenient. Given what we’ve just told you.’

  Francis shifted his weight. Some forest insect had bitten him on the bottom. Involuntarily, he reached down to scratch the itch.

  Carmen tensed. ‘I wouldn’t try running for it, mate,’ she said. ‘I’m pretty fast, and pretty fit.’

  ‘I know you are. And I guess that if you wanted to finish me off, here, now, the two of you, you probably could. But there’s no point. Unless I choose to tell the captain what I know, I don’t see why you would ever be caught. The results from the lab are going to confirm that Eve died of old age. However much Don protests to the contrary, poor Lauren will be seen as a suicidal drunk; there’s no actual body to investigate. No one except myself and Ray know that George saw something. The snakebite was a surprising thing to happen on board ship, but not impossible – and you are, Alyssa, as you said, the ship’s doctor. This would not be the first time you’ve certified a murder as a death. Even if there are any outside enquiries, which I very much doubt, there’ll be no case at all.’

  ‘Why d’you think I’d believe for one moment that you won’t say anything?’ said Carmen. ‘Even if your na
tural sense of justice doesn’t force you to turn us in, if you don’t, you’re incriminating yourself. Accessory to murder, isn’t it? And what about Ray?’

  ‘Ray is a very frightened man. It may cost you a little, but we can square him. And why should the rest ever come out? I’ve heard your story, and I understand what good work the Rising Star Trust is doing. Why would I want to put a stop to that? For the sake of revealing that a few old people died a couple of years earlier than they might have done?’

  Carmen looked doubtful. ‘And a middle-aged heiress, and an innocent Filipino father of two,’ she said.

  ‘I have factored those two into my thinking. And I have one condition for my silence. That you stop now. Not Rising Star. Certainly not that. But your unorthodox fundraising activities. I really couldn’t be party to any further murders, however innocent you present them as being.’

  ‘It’s a bit late to be making conditions, don’t you think?’ Carmen replied. ‘Anyway, that’s rather a big ask, when we could sort things out right now. So that we can continue as planned. In any case, I don’t believe you. Sorry.’

  ‘You told me you didn’t like killing,’ said Francis. ‘You had to kill Lauren. And Alyssa had to deal with George. I understand that. But me. Would you really want my death on your conscience too? And how in any case would you cover it up? It would be the straw that broke the camel’s back. If I don’t return to the ship, they’re not going to steam on this time, are they? A fourth death will mean they have to act. And who knows who saw you both leaving the village? Besides me. As you said, Alyssa, the first officer already suspects you.’

  ‘Very convincing, mate,’ Carmen said. ‘And thank you for your offer – and for pointing out that we could pay Ray off. As for you, I’m sorry, but you’re just a little bit too clever for us to trust you. I can even believe that you might not say anything back on the ship. But what happens when you get home and reflect on all this? Even though you may think what we’re doing is fine, here, now, in the remote jungle of Guinea-Bissau, your conscience will eventually get you. You’ll have to turn us in.’

  ‘OK,’ said Francis, eyeballing her. ‘So what are you going to do? You’ve got just over an hour before the last Zodiac leaves this island. Even if you managed to clean yourself up, how are you going to explain away a bloodied corpse?’

  ‘Who says we’re going to have to explain it away? You might have been attacked by anyone. One of the villagers even. Anyway, who says we’re going to use the knife?’

  ‘You brought some spare poison with you, did you, Alyssa?’

  ‘As it happens, she did,’ Carmen said. ‘The plan was to get rid of it. After they stopped us docking at Freetown, we’ve got no idea who might come on at Banjul. Or Dakar.’

  ‘So that Ebola story was made up?’

  ‘Didn’t you realize that? The captain and first officer are making sure that everyone stays on board.’

  Francis wasn’t going to admit anything. But it was interesting that both Colonel Joe and old Henry Forbes-Harley had been right about the Ebola. ‘So what’s your plan?’ he asked, trying to keep his cool. ‘I don’t imagine dry ice would work out here. Another snakebite?’

  ‘It would be, yes,’ said Alyssa quietly.

  ‘She will tell them,’ said Carmen, ‘that the venom is from a local puff adder, though actually it’s deinagkistrodon acutus, the same that killed poor George, milked from the South East Asian pit viper. You wondered earlier how he’d gone so quickly. The pit viper is known in Asia as “the hundred pacer”. Because that’s how far you get when you’ve been bitten by it.’

  ‘I did also, as you guessed,’ added Alyssa, ‘sedate him first. He was so upset about seeing the MOB he couldn’t sleep. He asked for a pill, so I offered an injection.’

  ‘Did he tell you why he was really so upset?’

  ‘Yes. That’s how we knew.’

  ‘He confided in you, the doctor?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Ironic.’

  ‘It was, probably, yes.’

  Her eyes were full of shame.

  ‘He didn’t know it was Carmen?’

  ‘No. He thought it was a man. A blond man. In any case—’

  ‘He didn’t know about you two.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So where did you get the venom?’ Francis asked, after a moment.

  ‘Off the Internet,’ said Alyssa. ‘It gets posted from China. Anybody can buy this stuff. It’s terrifying, really.’

  ‘A phial of venom, tucked away with the antivenoms. Who would have thought it? So why did you even have it?’

  ‘We were going to use it …’

  ‘On Eve,’ Carmen finished. ‘She would have been found dead out at the village on that first day.’

  ‘And then you had a better idea?’

  ‘Yes. Alyssa did.’

  ‘Not the nicest of deaths, I imagine?’ Despite his best intentions, Francis’s voice was cracking.

  ‘Not like propofol or pentobarbital, no,’ the doctor replied. ‘But it will still finish you off in about fifteen minutes. There is some pain and then you rapidly asphyxiate. But I’ll give you a morphine shot first, so you won’t suffer.’

  ‘There’s nothing else we can do, mate,’ Carmen said. ‘You will not return to the boat at five. Viktor will be furious, because it means he will miss the tide, and the ship will have to stay anchored here overnight, upsetting the itinerary even further. But he will have no other option. A search party will be sent out. And very soon, one of the dogs will find you. Out here, several hundred yards from the village. How very foolish you were to take a walk against the advice of the expedition team, and go and get yourself bitten by a puff adder.’

  Francis’s nerve was failing him now. His mouth was dry, his arm was trembling uncontrollably, he could see his heart pounding against his sweat-soaked shirt. He was suddenly so breathless he could hardly speak. ‘I’ve told you … I’m happy … not to say anything about … Rising Star. With one simple … understandable … condition …’

  ‘Still making conditions,’ said Carmen, scornfully. She turned to her companion. ‘I’m sorry, Alyssa. We’re going to have to do this.’

  ‘Are we?’ said the doctor. Now she looked both uncertain and scared.

  Carmen turned impatiently. ‘Of course we must.’

  ‘Alyssa, please,’ said Francis. ‘You don’t need to. I’ll square Ray. I promise I won’t say …’

  He tailed off. Even in extremis he was unable to offer his word that he wouldn’t turn them in. Because of course he would. If he ever got away from here.

  ‘I give you … my word,’ he managed finally, ends justifying means. But it didn’t sound convincing.

  The doctor turned to her partner. ‘I trust him,’ she said. ‘We can give him this chance.’

  ‘No.’ Carmen shook her head. ‘Look in his eyes. He’s lying. Surely you can see that?’

  From across in the village, the beat of the drums sounded louder. The carnival was reaching a climax.

  ‘It’s too much,’ the doctor said. ‘We should accept his offer. He’s right, anyway. Eve didn’t deserve that. She was a kind old lady with lots to live for. Who knows how many more years she had?’

  ‘Five at the most,’ said Carmen scornfully.

  ‘And Lauren. Lauren was young. Younger than you.’

  ‘A spoilt, depressive alcoholic.’

  ‘And George,’ the doctor’s voice rose to a squeal.

  ‘Stop this, Alyssa! Now is no time for sentimental bullshit. If you want to call a halt to the programme after the cruise, you can.’

  ‘But Francis is giving us a way out. That lets us go on. And he’s right. If there’s another death, it will be one too many. In any case, it won’t be just one. Ray has to go too.’

  ‘We can pay him off. As Francis said.’

  ‘They’re bound to investigate, Carmen. We will be found out. Rising Star will be finished. And us too.’

  ‘Of course we won’t be
found out, darling. Viktor was even warning the guests about snakes as we came up.’ Carmen turned towards Francis. ‘I’m sorry, mate …’

  The look in her eyes was both purposeful and contemptuous.

  ‘Come on, Alyssa,’ she said. ‘Prepare the hit.’

  The doctor seemed to have given in. She opened her bag and found a syringe, then looked up at her partner again.

  ‘We don’t need to do this.’

  ‘For God’s sake, get on with it! We haven’t much time. Lie down, please,’ she ordered Francis. She was holding her big knife right above him. He did as he was told.

  ‘Put your hands up behind your back. Face on the ground, that’s it.’ He turned sideways to see her reaching into her bag for a coil of blue nylon twine. She sawed off a length with her knife.

  ‘Face … on the ground,’ she repeated, resting the sharp point on the back of his neck. Involuntarily he shivered, feeling the steel pricking his skin.

  ‘Are you ready, sweets?’

  ‘OK,’ came the doctor’s voice.

  At the moment before his death, Francis’s life didn’t flash before him. Instead he was thinking, furiously: how could I have been such an idiot, to approach these two here, now. Unprotected and unsupported. If they had been men I would never have dared. I’d have waited till we were back on the ship, made sure the showdown involved Viktor, the captain, Alexei and a posse of beefy officers. Casual sexism has cost me my life.

  Is this really it? he wondered, as his nostrils, pushed against the earth, filled with the scent of dried leaves; no different out here, in Guinea-Bissau, than it was at home. This was the strange thing about the world, wasn’t it? You travelled to the farthest corners and found exactly the same familiar things. Fields in India that looked like Berkshire, blackberry-fringed beaches in Tasmania that could be in Cornwall. When had he last smelt this pungent, evocative aroma? As a teenager, at school, playing in the woods at the bottom of the Big Field. With Norman, his bestie of that time. They had gone out there to smoke. On summer afternoons. Players No. 10. And what were those menthol ones called? With the coloured shafts. They had kept those for the girls. Giggly parties, cider, smoky peppermint kisses. So was that it then? An undistinguished end in the jungle of Africa, like some benighted nineteenth-century explorer. A paragraph-long news item in the papers if he was lucky. Absurdly, he found himself wondering whether he would merit an obituary; how long it would be; which photograph it might feature. Minor Crime Writer Bites The Dust. Literally.