Dreamboat

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Dreamboat Page 32

by Judith Gould


  “What?” Crissy exclaimed.

  The captain nodded. “Yes. In a steamer trunk that Mark had brought aboard, there was a package of Semtex. Enough to blow a hole in the ship and sink her.”

  “Oh, my God,” Crissy said. “I wouldn’t have thought that he was capable of such a thing. He seems to really love the ship. He told me he’d brought the trunk aboard as a favor to his father.”

  “Yes,” the captain said. “He claims not to know anything about it, and his father denies any knowledge of it, too. We’re working under the assumption that the Semtex was planted by terrorists. I must say they were very clever to hide them the way they did.”

  “This is unbelievable,” Crissy said.

  “Unfortunately, it’s not,” he responded. “In any case, you said that there were more of these messages?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “Quite a few more.”

  “We’ll have to get those,” he said, “and see what they have to say.”

  “What can be done about it?” she asked. “Don’t you think some kind of immediate action is required?”

  “The first thing I’m going to do is get the rest of the messages in his suite, then I’ll get hold of Georgios Vilos again,” the captain said. “See what he has to say about this.”

  He paused and looked her in the eye. “I trust you haven’t told anyone else about this?”

  Crissy shook her head. “I just read the letters a little over an hour ago, and I wouldn’t tell anybody anyway.”

  “Then please do me a favor and don’t say a word about this or the explosives. If any passengers found out there were explosives aboard, they would get hysterical.”

  “I understand,” Crissy said. “I won’t breathe a word of it to anyone.”

  “Good,” he said. “I know it makes it hard on you, but please keep it to yourself. I’ll start trying to chase down Vilos and see what this is about.”

  “Will you let me know?” she asked.

  He looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. “You deserve that much,” he said, “for coming up with this information, however valuable it may or may not be. There is something very mysterious about this business, and frankly,” he said with a scowl, “very disturbing.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The remainder of the day at sea was uneventful as the ship progressed through calm waters toward Brazil. The weather was perfect—sunny with clear skies and warm breezes. In the evening, Crissy went to the disco to meet up with Luca. She was a little early, but Valentin appeared at her shoulder within minutes.

  “Care to dance?” he asked.

  “Why, yes, Valentin,” she replied.

  On the dance floor, he held her closely. “I hardly see you at all, Crissy,” he said.

  “I’ve been around,” she replied, deliberately being vague. “How have you been? Did you get seasick or anything during the storm?”

  He shook his head. “Oh, no,” he said. “Iron stomach, I guess.” He smiled. “And you?”

  “I was fine,” she said. “I—”

  There was a tap on Valentin’s shoulder, and he jerked. The captain, all gleaming teeth, said, “Hello. Could I break in, please?”

  Crissy saw a momentary flash of anger in Valentin’s eyes, but he smiled and nodded to the captain graciously, then looked at Crissy. “I will see you later,” he said, and walked toward the bar, his bearing stiff, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

  “I hope you don’t mind, Crissy,” the captain said.

  “No, not at all,” she replied. “It’s a pleasure.”

  The captain took her into his arms, holding her at an appropriate distance, and began leading her about the floor in his graceful manner. “I have to confess that I have an ulterior motive,” he said, still wearing his public smile.

  “Oh?”

  “Do you mind sitting with me for a few minutes after this dance?” he asked. “I would like to talk to you privately.”

  “No, of course not,” Crissy replied, wondering what Captain Papadapolis wanted to talk to her about.

  The dance soon ended, and he led her to an unoccupied table at the back of the room where the tables close by were unoccupied as well.

  He leaned in close. “We went into Mark Vilos’ cabin,” he said, “to get the rest of the messages you said you had seen there.”

  “Yes? And did they tell you something useful?” she asked.

  The captain shook his head. “No. The messages weren’t there.”

  “What?” she exclaimed. She immediately realized that she’d spoken too loudly and quieted her voice. “But I saw them there,” she insisted. “On his desk.”

  He gazed into her eyes. “Oh, I believe you,” he said. “I don’t doubt your word at all. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Crissy gazed at him with curiosity. “What is it?” she asked. “Have you found something else?”

  “No, but I’ve talked to Georgios Vilos about the messages.”

  “And?”

  “He says that he wrote the notes to Mark because he had received a threat that someone might place a bomb on the ship.”

  “Did he mention that to you before?” Crissy asked.

  The captain shook his head. “No, and I think that’s odd. He told me that he didn’t think the threats were important enough to cancel the cruise. He thought that they might be coming from a business competitor. He explained the messages by saying that he decided to take extra precautions and get Mark off the ship just in case.”

  “I think that’s outrageous,” Crissy said.

  The captain nodded. “Well, I didn’t appreciate not knowing about the threats myself, but if we cancelled a cruise every time someone calls in a threat, we’d seldom leave the dock.” His expression turned thoughtful. “Still, I find it very strange that Vilos has been trying to get Mark to leave the ship if he doesn’t think there’s any real danger.”

  “Yes,” Crissy agreed, “and the notes really sounded desperate.”

  The captain looked at her thoughtfully. “You’re right about that.”

  “If there’s anything I can do,” Crissy said, “I’ll be glad to.”

  “You’ve been a great help already. I just wish I could shake this feeling that something is terribly wrong.”

  Luca still hadn’t shown up at the disco by midnight. She spent the evening chatting with a Canadian couple, then went back to her cabin to give Luca a call at the hospital. Even if he was busy with an emergency, she could find out from Voula if and when he was going to be able to get away. That was one of the drawbacks to dating a doctor, Luca had told her—a part of your life was sacrificed to the emergencies that arose regularly, and his frequent and unpredictable unavailability. Crissy smiled at the thought. She didn’t feel as if she was sacrificing anything being with Luca.

  She opened the door to her cabin and went straight to the telephone, but just before she picked up the receiver, it rang. It startled her initially, but then she smiled. Luca. There hadn’t been a call since Mark had been in the brig, so she had nothing to fear.

  She picked up the receiver. “Hi, sweetheart,” she said.

  The sound of breathing assailed her as never before.

  She jerked and almost dropped the receiver, but recovered herself, although the hand she held the receiver with was shaking. “Who is this?” she demanded.

  The breathing continued, an intake of breath followed by an exhalation, even, rhythmic, and mortifying in its noisy silence.

  “Who is this?” she demanded again. She felt her heart begin to race and cold sweat bead on her forehead.

  The breathing continued, in and out, in and out, in and out.

  Crissy wanted to scream, but she didn’t want the caller to get the satisfaction of hearing the fear in her voice. She slammed down the receiver, then turned off the ringer in case he called back. She stood staring at herself for a moment in the mirror that ran the length of the wall above the desk, angry that she could see herself t
rembling. She turned around to face the opposite wall and took a few deep breaths. She had to call the captain and Luca, but she could hardly bring herself to touch the telephone again. The captain, she remembered, was in the disco, and Luca was still at work in the hospital.

  Forcing herself to pick up the telephone receiver, she dialed the number for the hospital.

  Voula answered immediately. “Hospital,” she said.

  “Voula, it’s Crissy,” she said. “Is it possible to speak to Luca for just a second?”

  “Hold on, Crissy,” she replied.

  Luca picked up at once. “Hi,” he said. “How are you?”

  “Luca,” she said. “I’ve had another one of those telephone calls.”

  “What?” he exclaimed. “Oh, God, no, Crissy. I can’t believe this.”

  “I can’t, either,” she replied. “You can guess what really puzzles me now.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Mark Vilos is in the brig without a telephone.”

  “Exactly,” she said. “So who’s doing this? I feel more confused than ever.”

  “I’ll be finished here in a few minutes,” Luca said. “Why don’t you come down here and wait for me. You won’t have to be there alone.”

  “Okay,” she replied.

  “Have you talked to Mikelos or anyone yet?” he asked.

  “No,” Crissy replied. “I called you first thing.”

  “I’m going to call Mikelos as soon as we hang up,” Luca said. “This may be a break for us. To find out who the real culprit is.”

  “How’s that?” Crissy asked.

  “Well, we know for certain that it’s not Mark,” Luca said. “And depending on where Mikelos has minicams set up, he may have the caller on tape.”

  “I hope so,” Crissy said. “I thought it was all over.”

  “Crissy,” Luca said, “it’s going to end soon. I’m sure of it. Just get yourself down here. I’m calling Mikelos now.” He made kissing noises. “Love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she said.

  She hung up the telephone and fetched her purse, then went to the door. She could hardly wait to get out of the cabin and down to the hospital and Luca.

  Luca was waiting for her, and the two went to his cabin. Once there, he told her what Mikelos had said.

  “First, they’re checking to see where the call originated,” Luca said.

  “Like the last time,” Crissy said with a sigh.

  “Then they’ll see if they’ve got anything on tape,” he went on. “It’s going to take awhile.”

  “If they’ve got a videocam on the telephone where the call was made,” Crissy said. “And that’s a big ‘if.’ ”

  Luca nodded, massaging her shoulders. “I know,” he said. “But don’t worry. Mikelos is going to catch the bastard who’s doing this. I’m sure of it, Crissy.” He kissed her neck tenderly.

  “I wish I felt so certain,” she murmured. She felt his lips brushing against her and shivered. “You feel so wonderful. Let’s forget about this tonight.” He put his arms around her, and his mouth sought hers.

  As wondrous as their lovemaking was, Crissy still couldn’t shake a single question that persisted in occupying her thoughts: If Mark hadn’t made the calls and torn up her underwear, then who did?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Crissy returned to her cabin early to change clothes for breakfast, then went back to put on a swimsuit. The day at sea was beautiful, and she decided to spend most of it sunning on the pool deck. But before she had the chance, there was a knock on the door, and it startled her. Who on earth? she wondered. Crossing to it, she opened the cabin door slightly and saw Mikelos.

  “Hi,” she said, swinging the door back. “Come in.”

  Mikelos stepped just inside the door. “Would you come with me down to Security?”

  “Sure,” Crissy replied. “Let me get my shoulder bag.” She fetched it from the chair where she’d dropped it earlier. “What is it, Mikelos?” she asked, rejoining him at the door.

  “You’ll see,” he said, going back out into the hallway.

  She followed him to the stairwell, and they walked down to Security, Crissy rushing to keep up with the big man’s gait. At the Deck Two landing, still curious, Crissy asked, “Mikelos, has something happened? Please, tell me.”

  He kept walking. “You’ll see,” he repeated.

  They reached Security, and he opened the door and held it for her. Crissy stepped into the office. “We’re going in there,” Mikelos said, indicating another door. He swung it open, and Crissy went into the adjoining office. She was surprised to see Monika sitting at a desk, her big gold pocketbook in her lap.

  “Hello, Monika,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  Monika’s lips were fixed in a tight slash of red, and she didn’t respond to Crissy.

  “Here,” Mikelos said, waving a hand at a chair. “Have a seat, Crissy.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, sitting down, her curiosity more aroused than ever.

  She watched as Mikelos went to a wall switch and dimmed the lights. The room was almost dark, but as her eyes adjusted, Crissy could see what he was doing. “I have something I want you to look at,” he said, nodding toward an array of monitors on a long, narrow built-in desk. “Both of you.”

  He picked up a small videocassette from where it lay on the desk and slipped it into a player. One of the monitors came to life, casting off a pale, flickering light in the room. In the upper right-hand corner of the screen, Crissy saw that the time was noted, the seconds ticking off one by one. Her attention was momentarily averted from the screen when she saw Mikelos reach for the dimmer switch again, turning the light all the way down.

  Refocusing on the monitor, Crissy immediately recognized one of the ship’s public telephones. The picture, although it was black and white, was of excellent quality. She almost gasped, suddenly realizing why Mikelos had brought her here. He had succeeded in capturing her mysterious caller on video.

  The monitor was static for several seconds, as the time continued to tick by in the upper right-hand corner. Abruptly there was movement, and Monika’s unmistakable figure appeared, her big gold pocketbook in hand. Crissy watched as the woman placed the pocketbook on the carpeting. With one hand she picked up the receiver, then she pressed in a number, using the long, lacquered nails of the other.

  Fascinated but simultaneously repulsed, Crissy saw Monika turn slightly, her profile captured by the camera. The woman began breathing in and out, her mouth almost touching the telephone receiver, her every intake and expulsion of breath visible on the monitor. After several seconds, she replaced the receiver in its cradle, then turned around. She stood facing the camera. Crissy watched as Monika began to laugh. For a moment, she held one of her bejeweled hands at her stomach, as if to calm its heaving, then she moved it up to her mouth, covering her lips, the rings on her fingers reflecting light. Finally, her merriment contained, she reached down and picked up her gold pocketbook by its handles and strode out of the camera’s range.

  Mikelos turned the dimmer switch, and the room was bathed in light again. “So you can see who’s been harassing you, Crissy,” Mikelos said.

  Crissy gazed over at Monika, who sat mutely staring into the distance, her lips still fixed in a scarlet line. She looked, Crissy thought, as if she was in another world, refusing to accept the reality of this one. Crissy wanted to slap her face, yet at the same time, she felt pity for the woman. Why? she wondered. What would drive her to do such a thing?

  Clearing her throat, Crissy asked her. “Monika,” she said, “why did you do this?”

  Monika continued to stare into the distance, refusing to acknowledge Crissy’s question.

  “I used to think that you were my friend,” Crissy said. She felt on the verge of tears, but was determined not to shed any. “I don’t understand why you would do such a thing.”

  Mikelos stood near the wall watching, but didn’t interfere. He wanted Crissy to have her chance to
get some answers before he began his own questioning.

  Monika took a deep breath. “I—I was just playing a little joke,” she murmured. She flicked a glance at Crissy out of the corner of her eye.

  “A joke!” Crissy exclaimed. “You had me scared half to death. I can imagine how you would react if somebody did something like that to you.”

  “I—I didn’t mean any harm,” Monika said. “I really didn’t.”

  Crissy felt compelled to slap her again, she was so enraged, but she restrained herself. She wondered if Monika’s words had a grain of truth in them. Was she jealous, as Luca had suggested? Was she sick? She didn’t know, but whatever the reason, she found Monika’s behavior reprehensible.

  The room was silent, Monika now staring at the floor, one hand at her brow, agitated fingers hiding her eyes, as if she didn’t want anyone to see tears that might well up in them.

  “The telephone calls may have been like a mean, childish joke,” Crissy said, “but tearing up my underwear was . . . was sick, Monika. Really sick.” She paused, waiting for a reaction, but none was forthcoming. “How did you get in my cabin, anyway?”

  “I . . . I had Jenny’s key card,” Monika replied in a barely audible voice. “I’d borrowed it from her earlier because I had to go to the ladies’ room, and your cabin was close by.”

  “Do you still have it?” Crissy asked.

  Monika shook her head. “Oh, no. Of course not.” She voice choked. “I-I don’t know what possessed me.” She gazed at Crissy with pleading eyes. “I-I didn’t mean any real harm.”

  Crissy glared at the older woman. Monika looked like an old, broken doll slumped in the chair. Worse, she looked pathetic.

  “Do you want to press charges?” Mikelos asked quietly.

  Crissy shifted nervously in her chair, wondering what to do. Monika deserved nothing better, she thought. She could really cause trouble for the woman. She was a minor celebrity in Europe, and if word got out of her misadventures aboard the Sea Nymph, it would be very embarrassing for her, if nothing else. Word would probably leak out anyway. Mikelos would inevitably tell his pals in Security, and the tale would spread, no doubt reaching Vienna in a matter of weeks, if not hours.

 

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