by Cathy Ace
“Didn’t I see you two together when we were sailing close to the lava flow from Mount Kīlauea the other night?” I knew I had, but I wanted to see how Winston would react.
He rallied. “Knew a lot about it all, he did,” was his thoughtful reply. “I think he knew a lot of t’ings ‘bout a lot of t’ings,” he added, allowing his Jamaican lilt to shine through his more formal addressing-the-guests voice.
“It was a wonderful sight, the lava flowing into the sea in the darkness that way,” I gushed. “You’re lucky to work at this bar at times like that. I don’t suppose it ever gets old.”
Winston looked wistful. “You right. Never gets old. Same every time we come here. But different too, you know? Sometimes we get real close to the lava, like the other night. But it is always beautiful.”
“Are you happy here?” I dared.
Winston gave me an odd look. It must have been an unusual question for a guest to ask a server. His expression told me he was weighing his response. When it came, it surprised me.
“Happy is as happy does, Missus Cait. Some people is sad no matter how much they got, or how fine dey life. Some people is happy with not’ing. My mother told me that a smile can make you happy, and a frown can make you sad, so it’s best to smile at the world, and it might just smile back at you. So that’s what I do, Missus Cait. I smile, and it makes other people happy, and that makes me happy. See? Happy is as happy does. My mother was right.”
Moving back to the bar humming “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer,” Winston Williams waved at a couple who’d decided it was time to make the move to change out of their damp pool clothes and get ready for dinner. Bud and I polished off our drinks and decided to do the same.
Despite the untimely death of Tommy Trussler, I was determined to make an effort to look my best for the evening ahead of us. I reasoned that all our suspects were likely to be milling about the bars before dinner in any case, especially the Croppers, who we’d half-arranged to meet for a pre-dinner cocktail.
Back in our stateroom, I hit the shower and makeup bag as quickly as I could; I formulated opening gambits as I applied mascara, and grappled with my uncooperative hair using a very large can of hairspray.
Crystal Bar, Deck 6
I EVENTUALLY MANAGED TO SQUEEZE into my bouncy-fabric, dark blue formal gown, which I was convinced must have shrunk in the closet—all that sea air and humidity, I expect. I felt pretty good about my appearance as Bud escorted me toward the uber-fancy Crystal Bar on Deck 6. We’d left it early the night before, choosing to wander the open deck before retiring, enjoying the stars and the sounds of the ship in the night. But in a long gown, and with Bud so nicely turned out in his good navy suit, I thought it best to avoid the open decks until my hairdo had managed to make it through dinner.
The bar was set to one side of the atrium, which overlooked the grand foyer three floors below. As we approached, I spotted two empty stools right next to Laurie and Derek Cropper. I pulled at Bud’s hand, which was deliciously wrapped around my own, just to make sure we could claim the prime spot. I sidled up to Laurie Cropper as rapidly as I could, given my heels. She looked resplendent in a scarlet fitted gown with heavily sequinned matching jacket.
“I like the sparkly jacket,” I said, mounting the high stool with as much elegance as possible for a short person. Bud gave me a final boost, and I wriggled into position.
“Thank you,” said Laurie. “Gee, Bud, you wash up good.” She winked at Bud, and I saw him swell with pride.
“So do you, Derek,” I added.
He glowed, then Laurie said, “Lookin’ good there, ain’t he? That diet he’s been on is working at last, right, honey?”
Derek patted his midsection and smiled weakly. “Sure is,” he said, and winked at me.
Stepping away from his own stool, Derek stood beside Bud and the men shook hands as heartily as old friends who hadn’t seen each other in an age. “We’re just slipping in a cocktail before we join the captain’s other guests in the private alcove.” He waved an arm toward a curtained area set at the very far end of the seating area that surrounded the bar. Looking at his hideously large, expensive watch, he added, “Got twenty minutes before the guy turns up. Gonna join us for one?”
I thought we already had, but I realized that Derek meant that he’d like to order drinks for us, as signified by his next comment, directed toward me: “And what will it be for the little lady?”
I knew he meant to be polite, but few things grate on me more than being referred to in such a way. It never seemed to happen to me before I was married to Bud. I wondered if it was something all wives had to contend with. If it was, I could have done with an instruction manual among my wedding gifts.
As I grappled with these emotions, I answered automatically, “Silver Smoke Symphony, please.” My choice drew a discreet cough from Bud; it was the drink I’d discovered the night before—to say it was strong was a bit of an understatement.
“Very adventurous,” said Laurie, with a wicked glint in her eye. “I’ll have one of those too, Derek,” she added. “I’ve seen them. They look spectacular—do they taste good?”
She’d posed a question I’d have asked before ordering, but I replied evenly, “If you like gin, they are very pleasant.”
Laurie winked. “Gin and I are good ol’ friends, so I’m sure it’ll be lovely.”
“Same for you?” asked Derek of Bud. His tone was uncertain.
Bud shook his head. “Tried one last night. Not really my thing,” he replied with a wan smile. “I’ll take a Crown Royal, rocks, thanks.” Bud’s tastes don’t extend to the exotic.
“And the usual for me, Simon,” called Derek to the barman who was already tossing and twirling bottles and shakers in a theatrical manner.
Moments later, a round of “Cheers!” was exchanged as we all sipped our chosen beverages. I peered at Laurie through the haze of vapor that poured from the specialty swizzle sticks in our drinks. Before she’d even tasted it she looked delighted. “Look, glitter!” she pointed at the swirl of silver glitter in the glass, then sipped. “Oh Derek, it’s fabulous! A real find. Cait, how clever and brave of you to try this.”
It seemed that my choice of drink had led to Laurie Cropper and I becoming immediate best friends. While Bud and Derek stood behind us, chatting in low tones, Laurie and I turned on our stools to face each other. I leaned in and began to pump her for anything more I could find out about Tommy Trussler—without her knowing I was doing anything of the sort, of course.
“I know you said you went to Pearl Harbor when you were staying on O’ahu, but what about the other Islands, Laurie? What did you do then?”
“Oh honey, we’ve been everywhere, and have seen everything. My Derek has made such wonderful arrangements for us, and I’ve enjoyed every moment, truly I have. Now, I might forget the order because I can get a little muddled, but I know we started that first day in Maui. We got off in Lahaina and a lovely gentleman drove us right around the Island. Did you get a chance to do that?”
I nodded and tried to stop the vapor from my drink going up my nose.
“It was so beautiful, though I have to say I’m glad we did it in a closed car with air conditioning. Then, that evening we had dinner at a nice restaurant in one of those big old apartment hotels out at Kaanapali Beach. They have a lot of places for sale out that way, and it was a good chance to see one. Of course, I wanted to see it all in daylight, too, so the next day we went back there—but that was after we got back from Molokai.”
My surprise must have shown.
“Yes,” continued Laurie, “that was a lovely little treat from my honey. We got on a helicopter that morning and flew all over Maui. Oh my dear, if you ever get the chance, you should do it. The mountains, and the valleys, and the waterfalls—it’s like something someone made up and put there just so human beings would be awestruck. The mountains? They’re like someone carved them with a knife. Don’t even look real. Like nothing I ever saw before. No
t even on Hawaii Five-O on the TV. Well, maybe on that show; they do love their beauty shots, don’t they? But it’s so much bigger when you’re there. Then we flew over to Molokai. You know how fabulous the sea looks from the ship?”
I nodded.
“Well, that’s nothin’. Oh honey, the colors are mind-bogglin’. Eventually we landed near the cutest little beach, and some folks from a hotel there brought us a champagne picnic.”
I couldn’t help but sigh. It sounded idyllic.
“Oh my, how I laughed at Derek getting’ in and out of the hammocks they had hanging between the trees,” She carried on happily. “He’s such a joker, my man. We weren’t there too long. It was hot. But unspoiled, you know? I’ve liked all we’ve seen on the other Islands, but it’s nice to have the chance to see what it must have been like before all of us turned up. You know, just the folks who belong there, and nature. Anyway, after that we went back to Kaanapali to see it in the daytime. And you’ll never guess who I saw walking along the beach together!”
“I don’t know,” I said hopefully. “Do tell.”
Laurie leaned in closer. “That poor dead man, Tommy, and that Canadian woman, Frannie Lang. Walking and talking they were. Very close, if you know what I mean.”
I didn’t, so I thought I’d better check. “Do you mean they were close like lovers might be?”
Laurie poked at the straw that was pouring vapor into her face and sipped her drink. “No, not really.” She sounded disappointed.
Bud and I had walked along that same beach, and I knew that the roaring of the surf and the strength of the wind forced us to shout at each other to be heard, even when we were just a few inches apart. That could have accounted for the closeness of Frannie and Tommy.
“Did you see Tommy anywhere else on your travels?” I ventured.
Again Laurie sipped and thought. “The day we were at Kona—that was the next day, right? Well, the day we were there, we took another helicopter tour, right over all the lava fields, and way up over the volcano itself. I have to say it was amazing, but I think I preferred seeing the lava flow into the sea that night. It was better in the dark—more dramatic, glowing red. During the day it was mainly steam, and—oh my, dear me—the smell? Just awful, like the worst cheese that’s gone off, with a dead rat wrapped around it. I was kinda glad to get away from it, but, once it got into the helicopter, it didn’t go away. Lingered like the smell of a skunk. But, yeah, the Island was lovely. When we landed, we saw Tommy then. We went along to the Hulihe’e Palace in Kailua-Kona. Did you see it?”
“Yes—Bud and I enjoyed it there.”
“Well, there was a hula performance just when we arrived, and Tommy was there, standing under a huge banyan tree. He seemed to be alone, but when we were leaving to walk back to the lines to get the tender boat back to the ship, I saw him talking to Nigel Knicely. Now there’s a guy. ‘Knicely with a K’ all the time. Who talks like that?”
“Apparently Nigel does,” I replied, inwardly agreeing with Laurie’s disdain for the man’s pretentiousness. “Was Janet, Nigel’s wife, there?” I asked, trying to sound casual. I must take some time to recollect what I saw when we visited the place, I thought.
Laurie sucked at her straw again, then realized she had almost finished her drink. “I didn’t see her, but it’d be easy to miss her. It’s like that woman walks around in camouflage all the time, don’t you think? I get it that some folks like to pack carefully for a vacation, but do you think she owns anything that’s got any color at all? Looks like cookie dough all the time, she does. And not even the sort with chips, or fruit, or anything interesting in it.”
Laurie’s candor made me smile. Sometimes it’s nice to be in the company of someone who’ll say out loud what you only dare to think—and for me, that’s unusual.
“You certainly made the most of your chances to get about,” I said, hoping to learn more.
“We sure did. Derek planned it all so we would. Spent a lot of time organizing this trip. Not like him. He usually leaves it all up to me—and the travel agent, of course. I’m good at business, but I think it’s best to hire someone who really knows what they’re doing, if you need a job done well. Like the guy we’ve got running the place back home now. Good man. Derek’s pretty keen on him taking it all off our hands, or so he says. Cannot let go, my husband.”
We seemed to be straying from the topic I wanted to tackle—namely, any sightings of, or opinions about, Tommy Trussler. “You said something interesting about Tommy earlier today,” I said. “What had he done to make you think he was untrustworthy?” Best to be blunt.
Laurie placed her all-but-empty glass on the bar and gave her answer some thought. A test of our newly forged friendship?
“Sometimes a guy gives a woman a come-on—a bit of a flirtatious nod and a wink. Know what I mean?”
It never seemed to happen to me, but I said, “Sure,” as though it did.
“Well, first time we ran into him, he did that. I didn’t mind. It’s quite nice at my age, whoever does it. But then at the luau at our hotel? He was kinda looking at me funny. It stopped on the ship. Eventually. We’d see him at the gym, and he’d stopped doing it by then. But there was always something there. Even when we were playing cards. A sly, sideways look. And something in his eyes that said he knew something I didn’t. And I guess he did.” She sighed deeply. “Any more than that, well, I guess I shouldn’t say. I’ve talked it over with Derek and he agrees. Better not to say. Hope you’re okay with that, honey. Don’t mean nothin’ by it.”
Rats! “Well, I suppose poor Tommy’s estate will take some sorting out,” I said. “You and Derek seemed to think he was alone in the world. I wonder what happens in a case like that.”
“Lawyers’ll get it all, I guess,” said Laurie, shutting me down. Her mind was elsewhere. Looking around the bar, she added, “Given the amount of vapor the dry ice in these things gives off, I might get away with it, but Derek prefers if I go out to the smoking area to use this,” she confided. She waggled the end of her fancy electronic cigarette at me from the open clasp of her evening purse. “Want to come?”
I could have hit her! At that precise moment, I’d have given at least one limb to be able to smoke a cigarette, but I’d worked so hard at giving up, I knew I’d be letting myself—and Bud—down if I caved in. But I was on a roll; she was telling me all sorts of little snippets about the dead man without even realizing it, so I agreed.
“That would be super,” I said, “but let’s tell the men we’re off to the ladies.’”
She giggled. “Okay, but Derek will guess. Come on. Leave that there—or, better still, just knock it back.” She cast an eye at my glass and I followed her second suggestion.
Neither Laurie nor I found it easy to dismount from our stools, so our husbands helped, and we went on our way. Seemingly experienced at finding her way from the Crystal Bar to the nearest smoking area, Laurie took my arm and steered me. I felt as though we were two schoolgirls rushing off to a secret rendezvous. It was quite fun.
The rather underwhelming smoking area set up just outside a door to the open deck was already being used by a dozen formally attired men and women, all of whom bore the same look of guilt and wicked enjoyment. I used to be one of you, I thought, and felt a rush of equal parts of pride and longing as I saw people inhale and exhale deeply in the night air.
“Do you smoke?” asked Laurie as she pulled her vaping implement from her purse.
I shook my head. “Used to,” was all I could muster.
“Me too,” smiled Laurie, “but now I do this instead.” She sucked on the metal end of a glass tube with pink liquid inside, and exhaled a stream of white vapor. “I used to do this just to get me through the times when I couldn’t get the real thing—you know, sneaking into the washrooms in restaurants and such where they don’t know you’re vaping. But I got sick of the smell of smoke on my clothes, so now I just do this. Wanna try?” She held the sucking end toward me, and rubbed it wit
h a paper tissue from her purse. “I ain’t got anything nasty, honest,” she smiled.
I felt as though I was being tempted by some ancient evil. I even visualized myself with a little angel on one shoulder and a little devil on the other, like Tom the cat in the old Tom and Jerry cartoons. I’m pretty strong-willed when I need to be, and I was almost sure that one puff wouldn’t be the start of a slippery slope, so I gave it a go. I regretted it immediately. Cherry flavor hit my taste buds, and I blew out the vapor as quickly as I could.
My expression must have spoken volumes, because Laurie said, “Don’t like cherries?”
I shook my head. “Not that sort of cherry flavor, though I can nibble on one or two of the real thing now and again.”
“They do lots of other flavors, honey,” she added helpfully, relieving me of the device. “I guess you could try one of them. I hear the apple is very pleasant, and they do pineapple, orange, the lot. Or there’s always the stuff that has no flavor at all.”
I shook my head. I felt as though I’d dodged a bullet, though the nicotine rush was quite something—much more potent than the gum I’d been chewing for months.
As she wiped the mouthpiece, then sucked a couple more times herself, I said, “That’s liquid nicotine in the tube, isn’t it?”
Laurie nodded.
“I suppose you had to bring a lot of it with you for this trip. Is it easy to get hold of?” I asked.
Laurie slipped the tube back into her purse. “Sure thing,” she said, leading me away from the smoking area. “Back home, there are stores most everywhere that sell it, though I made sure to bring a whole box of the little bottles with me. I didn’t know if the habit had made its way to Hawai’i yet, and I didn’t want to run out. Like I said, you should try it. It’s so easy, and much more satisfying than that horrible old gum. That stuff? It made me look like a cow, chewing the cud—and it gave me gas.”