Mike Befeler Paul Jacobson Geezer-lit Mystery Series E-Book Box Set: Retirement Homes Are Murder, Living with Your Kids Is Murder, Senior Moments Are Murder, Cruising in Your Eighties Is Murder

by Mike Befeler

  He tapped a finger on a notebook he held. “Yah, I also have a reference to a robbery at the Lincoln Hotel this morning, stating you were also at the scene of that crime.”

  “I was an innocent bystander.”

  He slowly nodded his head. “And completing a further background check on you, Mr. Jacobson, I found records indicating accusations in Hawaii, Colorado and Venice Beach, California.”

  Marion put her hands on her hips. “And if you check more thoroughly, you’ll find that in all three locales Paul helped bring the true criminals to justice.”

  Grudion squinted at her. “Meaning what?”

  “Paul was instrumental in uncovering evidence that led to the arrest of the real murderer in each case.”

  Grudion turned toward me. “Yah, why don’t you recount the particulars of these incidents for me?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t, Mr. Grudion.”

  “And why is that?”

  “I suffer from short-term memory loss. I remember all the details of what’s happened today, but the last few years have gone ‘poof.’”

  “That’s correct,” Marion said. “Paul forgets overnight.”

  “Are you saying he won’t remember this conversation if I question him tomorrow?”

  “For most days, that’s the case,” Marion said.

  I now regarded Marion. “For most days? You mean some days I might remember?”

  “There is one particular circumstance when you retain your memory.” She gave me a Cheshire cat grin. “But back to your concerns, Mr. Grudion. I can assure you that Paul is no threat.”

  “We’ll see. I’ll check in with you again, Mr. Jacobson.”

  “First, the Captain’s table and then all this special attention from you, Mr. Grudion. What’s next?”

  “I hope no trouble.” He turned on his heels and left our honeymoon suite.

  “Several things I don’t understand,” I said. “You, Grudion and my earlier phone conversations referred to crimes I had been involved with in other places.”

  “That’s right, Paul. You were suspected of murder in each location but helped the police find the culprit.”

  “But I’m not trained in that sort of thing. All I ever did was push paper in the Navy and run an auto parts store.”

  “Well, in the last year you’ve also become an amateur sleuth.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t remember one iota of that. And this oblique reference to most days that I can’t remember what happened the day before. There’s the implication that once in a while I do remember.”

  “There is one circumstance when you wake up recalling things from the day before.” She waited a beat and then gave me a smile again.

  “Don’t keep me in suspense. What makes my faulty wiring work on some occasions?”

  She leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek. “It’ll be a little surprise for you.”

  “I don’t like surprises.”

  “I think you’ll enjoy this one. Now let’s go explore the ship.”

  “I’m for that.”

  “The first thing I want to do is find the spa,” Marion said.

  I picked up a map of the ship that had been left with the newsletter on our bed.

  “All the way aft and up one deck, Admiral.”

  Marion giggled. “You sound so nautical.”

  “Just wait until this tub starts moving and I get my sea legs.”

  We sauntered toward the stern and took a flight of stairs up to find a marble-covered floor and an oak counter manned by two young ladies with gleaming black hair.

  “We’d like to sign up for the spa,” I told them.

  “Names and cabin number?”

  I gave them the particulars, and one of the girls thumbed through a list. Then she looked up at me with a broad grin. “My goodness. You two are already listed as receiving a complimentary spa registration plus a complete massage during the cruise, free.”

  “Paul, let’s both have massages tomorrow, since it’s a day at sea.”

  “Okay,” I replied. “Sign us up.”

  “We have a regular massage or a hot stone massage. Which would you prefer?”

  Marion smiled. “I’ve never had a hot stone massage.”

  “Whatever my bride wants. We’ll go whole hog. Give us the full treatment.”

  “We can accommodate you at ten A.M. Would you like a tour of the spa facility today?”

  “Lead on, but don’t lead me astray,” I said.

  The taller and lankier of the two introduced herself as Georgette and guided us into a commons area with couches and then into a section with lounge chairs facing large windows looking out over the water. Soft music played, making me think of a nap.

  “On each side is a room like this for relaxing,” Georgette said. “This side is for the women.”

  We passed through a doorway into a spacious room with an indoor swimming pool, Jacuzzi and a hot bubbly pool. Again lounge chairs were lined up facing a set of huge plate glass windows on the stern and gigantic tropical plants growing out of urns. Here the soft music had been replaced by the sound of chirping birds.

  Georgette pointed to doorways. “Locker rooms are off to the side. Just check in at the main desk, turn in your room card and you’ll receive a locker key.”

  Then we entered a hallway with small rooms off to both sides. “These are the treatment rooms for facials, massage and acupuncture.”

  “I’ll stick with being stuffed with hot rocks,” I said. “I don’t want anyone sticking funny little needles in me.”

  Georgette’s eyes scrunched up and she laughed. “It’s nothing like that. It’s very relaxing.”

  After the grand tour, we walked up a staircase to find a fitness center. Twenty- and thirty-somethings were already pedaling, jogging and stomping.

  We continued our exploration and entered a cafeteria. A woman in a dark skirt and blazer stopped us, pointed toward a blue globe and asked us to sanitize our hands. I thrust my hands downward to receive a globule, which I rubbed in. A sign explained that this was to prevent the spread of any infectious diseases during our cruise.

  People were already stuffing their faces. I noticed that the people pigging out tended to be larger in girth than the ones pounding on machines in the fitness center. Oh well. This ship offered whatever entertainment you chose.

  We each grabbed a banana and yogurt for a mid-day snack. Next we found the outdoor pools and hot tubs.

  “We’ll have our own private pool and hot tub in the spa,” Marion said.

  “Plus it will be warmer inside, so we won’t have to freeze our tushes.”

  We climbed a set of stairs and found an area with lounge chairs and a jogging and walking track that circled the ship.

  “This will be perfect,” I said. “I can stuff my face at meals and then take a stroll here to exercise.”

  “I may even join you, if it isn’t too early in the morning.”

  “Really?”

  Marion chuckled. “Probably not, since I like to sleep in. But you can do it on your own since you wake up earlier than I do.”

  Having toured part of our new home away from home, we returned to our cabin to unpack. Then a voice came over the intercom informing us that the lifeboat drill would begin in ten minutes. And at the sound of a horn we were to don our life jackets and dash to our muster station listed on our embarkation card. I located two orange life vests and dropped them on the bed.

  As predicted, an irritatingly loud horn blasted, and Marion and I put on our life vests. We headed out into the hallway to join the throng moving toward the stairwell. We had to go down to deck seven and the staircase was jammed with orange-clad touristas.

  Just as we approached out destination someone bumped into me, and I bashed into a woman in front of me, knocking her over. She tumbled down the remaining stairs and thudded to a stop.

  She sat there dazed, a cane by her side. One of the crew members raced over, and he and I helped her to her feet.


  “This man knocked me down the stairs,” she told the young man in the crisp white uniform.

  “I apologize,” I said. “Someone pushed into me, and it caused a chain reaction.”

  “A likely story,” she said, dusting herself off.

  “May I see some identification, please?” the young man said to me.

  I showed him my embarkation card and told him my name.

  A man and woman in their thirties came rushing over, concern on their faces. The woman was attractive in an anemic sort of way, blond curls over a high forehead. The man was also skinny and had the serious expression of someone who didn’t smile much. They fussed over the older woman who’d fallen, the man glaring at me as the young woman handed her the cane and helped her away. People continued to surge around us, so Marion and I got our butts in gear and proceeded to muster station Y3 Deck 7 Mid Port.

  “That woman seemed awfully upset,” Marion said.

  “I can understand. I didn’t like being bashed into either, and I’m sorry I knocked her down.”

  After the crew formed us in neat lines, a whistle blew and we returned to our cabin. Going up the stairs I stayed a ways behind anyone else and watched my back to make sure no one nudged me.

  “That was a pretty fruitless exercise,” I said as we approached our cabin.

  Marion shrugged. “At least we know where our life vests are and where to go if there’s an emergency.”

  “Not that I’d remember it anyway.”

  “But I know now, so I can lead us.”

  “We’ll have to buy one of those kid leashes. You can tether me, and I can follow you.”

  “That won’t be necessary. We can just hold hands.”

  “Like a pair of newlyweds.”

  “Exactly.”

  Back inside our home base I finished hanging up my clothes and stuffed my underwear and socks into a drawer. Then I slid our suitcases under the bed.

  “Cozy but neat,” Marion informed me as I passed muster for the second time that day.

  “I hope we see some whales,” I said. “That’s something I’ve never experienced.”

  There was a knock on the door, and I lumbered over to open it. Norbert Grudion stood there.

  “Come on in,” I said. “You here for a cabin inspection?”

  “No, Mr. Jacobson. I just received a report that you pushed a passenger down the stairs during the lifeboat drill.”

  Marion came to my side. “I saw the whole incident. Someone bumped into Paul who stumbled forward, striking the woman who fell. It was just an accident. Too bad we didn’t see who started it all.”

  Grudion stared at me intently. “Yah, you’ve only been on the ship three hours, and already you’re involved in an incident. My concern is for the safety of all passengers.” He wagged a finger at me. “I don’t want to spend all of my time watching you, Mr. Jacobson, so please don’t cause any more problems.”

  “I appreciate the special attention, but you probably have bigger fish to fry than little old me.”

  “Yah, I hope so.”

  After he left, I turned toward Marion. “I’ve found a way to alienate the local constabulary, and this guy Grudion will be breathing down my neck for the whole cruise.”

  Marion patted my arm. “Don’t worry, Paul. I’m sure there won’t be any more problems.”

  “Yeah, at least he didn’t revoke our invitation to sit at the Captain’s table tonight. Probably wanted me there so he can watch me.”

  The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully; I didn’t get in any more trouble. We watched from our balcony as we launched into Elliott Bay and headed north. I kept checking. No whales.

  Marion went inside to use the little girls’ room, and I continued to scan the seven seas. Too bad I hated the ocean. It was pretty from up here, but I had no desire to be in the water or close to it.

  Then I began to ponder my fate. After the shock of this morning, I now had accidentally gained the attention of the intense ship security officer. A gust of air rippled past, and I shivered. An old coot like me should just be hunkering down in an easy chair without a care in the world, and here I was worried about a murder and a stairwell accident. I would have to keep my wits about me. With street people flopping over dead and ladies tumbling down stairs, I’d have to pay keen attention to what was going on around me.

  * * * * *

  When dinner time approached, I put on a tie and my dark blue suit, and Marion donned a flowered frock that showed off her attractive legs.

  “Wow, you’re a fine-looking old broad,” I said.

  “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “I’m a fortunate guy. I can’t believe you decided to hitch up with an old fart like me and my soggy memory.”

  “It does make life interesting, Paul.”

  At dinner we sat at a table of eight with Captain Sanderson, a crusty seaman in his sixties with a neatly trimmed white beard and dancing blue eyes; an unattached woman, Mrs. Malloy, who yakked up a storm; a shipping executive named Samuels and his trophy wife; and another bigwig from some new-fangled technology company and his female companion.

  I ordered one of those tall tropical drinks with pineapple and orange juice, coconut milk, and probably a little hot lava. I told the waitress to make it a virgin since I didn’t want to kill any more brain cells. They were a scarce commodity.

  Part way into the meal, Captain Sanderson nodded to Marion and me. “I received a special message from a friend of mine that the two of you were recently married.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “You’re looking at a pair of newlyweds.”

  Everyone at the table raised glasses of champagne to toast us.

  Samuels, who was sitting next to me, leaned over and whispered, “I’m into my third wife. Keep wearing them out so I thought I’d go with a younger model this time.”

  I whispered back, “I’ve only worn out one, and I go with the seasoned model.”

  Samuels straightened up and said in a voice that could be heard by others, “How’d you make your fortune, Mr. Jacobson?”

  “I wouldn’t call it a fortune, but the auto parts business.”

  “A supplier to the big three?”

  “No. I ran an auto parts store in Los Angeles.”

  Samuels’s eyebrows raised, and he turned to make a comment to his not-yet worn-out wife. I guessed he was trying to figure out why Marion and I were here with the upper crust.

  After cleaning out a lobster shell and decimating some tiramisu, I asked Marion if she was up for an after-dinner stroll. We thanked the captain, excused ourselves and headed for the promenade deck to enjoy the outside air, which was still mild.

  “What’s our agenda for the rest of the evening?” I asked.

  “I want to go to the hypnotist show.”

  “Fine by me. I’ve never put much stock in hypnotism, but I’m game to watch the show.”

  Half an hour later we entered a large theater and took seats toward the front center. When the program began, a glib young twerp, probably in his fifties, sauntered onstage.

  He introduced himself and then said, “As I get older, I find I have more trouble with my sense of sight and hearing. Just yesterday I met a man who asked me if I had retired. I thought he asked me if I had expired.”

  Amid a round of chuckles, I elbowed Marion. “Hey, this guy tells dumb jokes just like I do.”

  “Ssh.” She glared at me.

  He told some other jokes and then explained about hypnotism. “Now, are there any newlyweds here tonight? Please raise your hands.”

  Marion grabbed my arm and lifted it along with hers.

  The hypnotist spotted us and said, “Okay. I want all of you to come up on stage.”

  I looked at Marion. “Do you want to do this?”

  “Sure. Be a good sport.”

  I shrugged. “Anything my bride wants.”

  We stood up, moseyed to the front and climbed the stairs to the stage along with half a dozen other coup
les, all in their twenties.

  The hypnotist adjusted his tie and said to me, “Aren’t you a little old to be a newlywed or are you the chaperone for these other couples?”

  “I’m just getting started,” I said. ”And aren’t you too young to be the entertainment?”

  He smiled and launched into a preview of what he was going to do to us, stating that he could hypnotize people to help them remember things they had forgotten.

  Marion raised her hand, and the hypnotist thrust the microphone toward her. “That wouldn’t work with my husband. He suffers from short-term memory loss and doesn’t remember things from the day before.”

  “Well, that’s a challenge for me,” he said. “I guess he’ll have to be my first victim, I mean, volunteer.”

  He asked me my name and told me to take a seat in a chair facing a small screen. He snapped his fingers and a spot of light appeared on the screen.

  I plopped down, my old ticker beating faster than a juiced-up bongo drum player. What was he going to do to me?

  “Now I want you to relax. You will remember everything that transpires, so there’s no reason to be tense.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  He smiled. “That’s better. Take a deep breath . . . and let it out. Good. Another deep breath . . . and let it out.”

  I felt like I was at the doctor’s office having a physical.

  “Now focus on the dot of light on the screen.”

  I looked toward the screen and my muscles relaxed.

  “Just keep your eyes on the dot. You’re getting sleepy and all your cares of the day are slipping away.”

  Like waking up not knowing where the hell I was, finding out I was married and then discovering a dead body. Right.

  “Keep watching the dot as your arms and legs become heavy.”

  I suddenly felt very lethargic.

  “Your head is heavy. Your neck is heavy. Your body is heavy. Your arms and legs are heavy.”

  He was right. I had the sensation that my whole body was lead.

  “Keep watching the dot as you fall into a deep and relaxing sleep. You’ll be aware of everything I say and will remember all of this after you wake up.”

  Now nothing bothered me.

  “Now sense the weight flowing out of your body and you are as light as a feather.”