by Mike Befeler
“I’ll probably never do it again either.”
“We should get together for dinner with our wives. Do you have any plans tonight?”
“None whatsoever. I’m just working on finding my sea legs and learning which end of the ship is which.”
“Let’s meet at the Regal Room restaurant at seven. We’re in room 10590. Give a call if you’re delayed.”
“I’ll remember that.” I tapped the side of my head. “As long as I don’t take a nap before I write it down. Marion and I are in room 10610 so we’re practically neighbors.”
He looked at me askance. “I’m glad you remember your room number.”
“That’s my super memory when I don’t fall asleep.”
“Now one last recommendation for you. On Friday night at midnight, they have a chocolate buffet. You like chocolate?”
“In any shape or form.”
“Then this is a must-attend event. The whole dining room is full of different kinds of chocolate: cake, cookies, pastry, ice cream. Plus they display chocolate sculptures.”
“If I can stay awake that late, Marion and I will have to sample some goodies.”
Andrew indicted that he had completed his laps and excused himself until we would reconvene for dinner.
I continued for a few more rounds, pausing several times to look unsuccessfully for whales.
When I returned to the cabin, Marion was up.
“I met a nice gentleman who invited us to join him and his wife for dinner tonight.”
“Our second dinner invitation in two nights.”
“Yeah. We’re becoming quite the party animals. What do you want to do today?”
“Breakfast and then the spa.”
After Marion had finished beautifying, we proceeded to the Orlean Room for a sit-down breakfast. A pleasant woman with a Swedish accent insisted that we squirt goo on our hands to stave off unwanted viruses before we entered the restaurant. Then we were seated at a table for two.
“My new buddy Andrew gave me a rundown of how a cruise works. The secret is pigging out in moderation and taking in the chocolate buffet at midnight on Friday.”
“That will be a challenge on this cruise—eating in moderation with all the choices.”
“And we’ll have to stay active between meals, taking advantage of excursions, walks and exploring the ship.”
After I finished off my Eggs Benedict, we returned to our stateroom to collect swimsuits.
Marion extracted a beach bag from the drawer and dropped in a book. “Paul, you might want to bring something to read while we’re in the spa.”
“Okay, I’ll take this short story collection.” I picked up the O. Henry book that rested on my nightstand.
Marion laughed. “You and your short stories. That was sure a clever idea that your granddaughter came up with.”
I scratched my head. “I hate to be dense, but I don’t recall what Jennifer did.”
“It’s simple. You used to try reading novels but found it very frustrating because you’d forget from the day before and have to start over every day. Jennifer suggested you read short stories. That way you can enjoy a whole story at each reading.”
“And it doesn’t even matter if I reread the same story. Except for special mornings like today, I wouldn’t remember it. I obviously have a very bright granddaughter. She must take after my new wife.”
“Oh, she takes after you. You’re pretty good at figuring out things like murders.”
“Well, other than the hypnotist helping me remember the red bandanna on the body in Seattle, I haven’t done much to assist Detective Bearhurst.”
“That just may be the clue he needs.”
“We’ll see. Let’s go experience this spa.”
After a brief hike, we turned in our key cards for locker keys. Inside a shiny clean locker room, I shed my clothes, donned my swim trunks and grabbed a towel. I found two open lounge chairs facing the ship’s wake and reserved them for Marion and me.
When my bride emerged in her swimming frock, she informed me she wanted to swim a few laps in the pool.
“I hate swimming pools, but for you I’ll give it a try,” I said.
It was warm and shallow. I waded around, took two tentative strokes, came up spluttering and decided I would walk the pool instead. Water was sloshing back and forth forming small waves.
“You could almost body surf in here,” I said to Marion when she came up for air after her laps.
We climbed out and next tried a pool that had contoured rollers you could lie on with water bubbling up around.
“This is more my speed,” I said. “I can lie down in hot water and not sink.”
“Oh, Paul. If you worked at it you could swim.”
“I’ve tried, but I’m a natural rock, not a fish.”
It was so relaxing that I almost fell asleep, catching myself so I wouldn’t do my memory reset trick.
Marion wanted to stay on the rollers, but I was ready to move on so I entered the Jacuzzi, which was the hottest of the three bodies of water. A large man rested there with a smile on his face.
“Enjoying the spa?” I asked him.
“Yeah, bruddah. Dis da best. I could sit here all day long.”
“You from Hawaii, by any chance?” I asked.
“Yeah, Maui.”
“What’s a Hawaiian doing way up north in Alaska?”
“My wife always wanted to see the forty-ninth state.” He chuckled. “When I was a kid there was a state fair in Hawaii called the Forty-ninth State Fair. But Alaska won out to become the forty-ninth state, and Hawaii settled for the fiftieth. I need to check out the competition.”
Marion joined us and I introduced her to the man who said his name was Kimo.
“He’s from Hawaii,” I informed her.
“We used to live in Hawaii. Paul and I met at a retirement home in Kaneohe.”
“No kidding.”
After a short soak, Marion told me we should dry off before our hot stone massage appointment in thirty minutes.
My Hawaiian companion said, “Sound like you’re gonna be turned into a luau. Best kind of pork is cooked with hot rocks.”
“I hope the stones aren’t that hot,” I said. “I don’t fancy being roasted with an apple in my mouth.”
Marion and I excused ourselves and wandered over to the lounge chairs to dry off. Marion had picked up two white robes, which we put on over our swim gear. Then we sat down to admire the view.
“I keep looking for whales,” I said, “but haven’t spotted one yet.”
“I’m sure you will. These waters are full of them.”
I scanned the wake for a few minutes, not seeing so much as a fin. Then I read an O. Henry short story, titled “After Twenty Years,” about a man named Silky Bob who gets arrested. I hoped that wasn’t an omen of what would happen to me.
The background music that played was interspersed with the sound of chirping birds. Along with the humidity in the room, I felt like I was in a tropical rain forest afloat.
I had to be careful not to doze off. This cruise was way too relaxing so far. No hassle, no fuss, just eating and being pampered. What a life for an old geezer like me.
Marion roused me from my reverie by indicating it was time to go play with the hot stones.
“You’re quite the slave driver,” I said. “Here I am relaxing, and you’re forcing me to go have a massage.”
“You be careful or I’ll tell the massage therapist to overheat the rocks for you.”
“Or if I complain too much, there’s another solution. I could just see one of those stones being stuck in someone’s mouth.”
A woman on the next lounge chair looked up from her book toward me.
As we headed toward the hallway I said, “I don’t know about this hot rock treatment. Kimo warned me not to turn into a luau pig.”
“Don’t be a sissy. It will loosen your muscles and help relieve stress.”
“I’m already stress-free. I
don’t need some sumo wrestler pounding my back with hot stones.”
“It will probably be an attractive young woman.”
“Well, in that case . . .”
Marion swatted me with her book.
“What’s the dress code for a massage?” I asked.
“You can go in your swimsuit and robe.”
We moseyed up to the appointment desk and checked in. True to Marion’s promise, a young woman with long black hair and striking blue eyes introduced herself as Inese and escorted me to a room. She told me to remove my robe and lie down on my stomach. As I listened to the tropical birds chirping, she began placing hot stones along my side, bolstered by towels. Then she placed one in the center of my back.
“Yow!” I shouted.
“I’m sorry. That one must have been too hot.”
“So Inese, how’d you decide to pursue this line of work?”
“I was trained in Latvia,” she said in her precise, accented English. “I wanted to travel and a job with Scandinavian Sea Lines presented itself.”
I leaned up on my elbows and looked at her. “You weren’t running away from anything, were you?”
Her eyes grew wide. “Why would you ask that?”
“Calm yourself. I’m just a snoopy old goat. It was an innocent question. Has traveling met your expectations?”
She sighed. “Not really. We work continuously. Each cruise is Sunday to Sunday and then the next one begins. I do get some time off to go ashore. I’ve seen each of the towns where we stop.”
“Do you have a chance to make many friends on the ship?”
“Not many. There’s a waiter named Erik. We take some hikes together when we both are able to go ashore at the same time.”
“So you have a boyfriend.”
“He’s just a friend.”
I plopped back down, and Inese massaged my shoulder blades and neck muscles. “This ship must have other routes when the Alaskan summer season is over.”
“Yes. The rest of the year it sails in Hawaii.”
“So you are able to see different parts of the world.”
“I’ve completed one season in Hawaii, and this is my second season in Alaska. I plan to transfer to a ship in the Caribbean this coming winter.”
“And then?”
“I’ll have saved up some money. I’d like to start my own massage business.”
“No plans to return to Latvia?”
I felt her hands tense on my back. “No. I think I’d like to live somewhere else.”
She pummeled a few more muscles on my back.
“Now if you’ll excuse me for a few minutes, I need to replace the stones with fresh hot ones.”
“Just not too hot.”
“All right. I’ll be careful.”
She disappeared into the adjoining room and shut the door.
I was left alone with the chirping birds. I tried to decide if I were in a tropical jungle or being confined in a bird cage with crazed parakeets.
This massage was a mixed bag. My muscles felt more relaxed, but the hot stones didn’t do that much for me. Seemed to be more of a gimmick.
Inese didn’t return as promptly as she promised, so I closed my eyes and pictured a large hawk circling, ready to pick off small chirping birds. After almost nodding off, I sat up.
Where was Inese? It couldn’t take this long to retrieve some hot stones. I swung my legs off the massage table and looked around the room. Pictures of tropical settings: a beach, a mountain scene and a path through a jungle, probably lined with loquacious parrots. Between the chirping and no Inese, I was starting to get irritated. Finally, I stood up and approached the door where Inese had disappeared. I opened it and peeked in.
Inese lay twisted on the floor.
Chapter 7
I braced myself against the doorway. My heart beat faster than a jackhammer. I stumbled back and thrust open the main door. A dozen rapid steps took me to the reception desk. “Call for help. Inese is injured.”
One woman reached for the phone. The other raced out from behind the desk. “What happened to her?”
“She’s lying on the floor.”
“I know CPR. Show me where she is.”
We charged back to the room, and I opened the door.
The woman bent down to examine Inese. Then she screamed.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
She stood up, shaking. “She’s dead. Someone stuffed a hot stone in her mouth.”
My knees felt weak. Why would someone do that to this nice young woman? And how did someone sneak into the side room without anyone noticing? She obviously had an enemy on the ship.
A nurse arrived to examine Inese, followed in short order by a doctor and Norbert Grudion.
Grudion took charge immediately. “I want this room sealed off. Who found the body?”
“I did,” I said with a gulp.
“Mr. Jacobson. In the thick of the fray again. Tell me what happened.”
“Inese was giving me a hot stone massage. She said she needed to retrieve more hot stones and disappeared into the side room. When she never returned, I investigated and found her body on the floor.”
“Yah, did you see anyone else?”
“No. No one else came in the room.”
He began questioning the spa staff and asked to see the log of who had signed in.
Another man arrived wearing a dark suit and Grudion told him to check every room in the spa and get names of the occupants. “Yah, and don’t let anyone in or out of the spa until I tell you,” he informed the two receptionists.
Shortly, Marion appeared in her white robe. “What’s all the commotion?”
“I feel awful,” I said. “Someone murdered the nice young woman who was giving me a massage.”
Marion’s hand flew to her mouth.
Grudion came up to us. “Mr. and Mrs. Jacobson. Please return to your cabin. I need to interview other bystanders, and then I will come to your stateroom to speak with you.”
I nodded. We went into our respective locker rooms to change.
I met Marion out in the reception area. As we prepared to depart, one of the receptionists said, “We’ve been told to ask everyone to stay here.”
“Mr. Grudion told us to return to our cabin,” I said.
Grudion stuck his head around the corner. “Yah, that’s correct. They can leave, but no one else yet.”
As we walked along the corridor, Marion said, “This sure puts a damper on our morning.”
“I’ll say. And now Grudion will be all over my ass like hair on a wet dog.”
“You have such colorful expressions, Paul.”
“That’s me, one heck of a colorful guy.”
“So you never finished your massage.”
“I think I’m done with massages for two lifetimes. And I didn’t even have a chance to give the massage therapist a tip.”
Back at our place we sat out on the balcony, watching the open ocean. I felt sad over what had happened to Inese and attempted to distract myself by trying to spot whales. No luck. As I continued to watch the whale-less ocean, I reaffirmed my belief: I liked hot tubs, but you’d never get me in big expanses of water like the Pacific.
I felt all jumbled up inside. A massage that was supposed to be relaxing had ended up in disaster. How did something like that happen? Who would commit such a heinous crime? And with me being in proximity, I knew I’d have to face the music with Grudion. I thought back over the image of Inese on the floor. I needed to learn more about people on this ship.
My musings were interrupted by a knock on the door, and I opened it to find Norbert Grudion with set lips complimenting his red hair.
“Come on in,” I said.
He stepped into our room. “Mr. Jacobson, you reported finding Inese Zarins’s body. Do you know the cause of her death?”
“Only what I was told about a stone being stuffed in her mouth.”
“An autopsy will determine for sure, but it appears tha
t she died from asphyxiation. You were the last person to see her alive. Did you hear or notice anything that I should know?”
“No. All I could hear were chirping birds.”
He furrowed his brow. “No scream?”
“No. Nothing.”
“That’s very interesting. Someone in an adjoining room reported hearing a scream.”
I thought back. “Well, it could have been me. I let out a yowl when one of the stones was too hot.”
“Humph. And another thing. One witness reported you speaking earlier in the morning of stuffing a stone in someone’s mouth.”
“Just a minute, Mr. Grudion,” Marion said. “Paul was kidding around. I heard that remark.”
“Yah, it’s awfully suspicious that Mr. Jacobson makes that statement and within an hour someone is found dead with a stone in her mouth.”
“It’s a goddamn coincidence, nothing more.”
“Acting a little heated, Mr. Jacobson?”
“Hell yes. I don’t like being accused of things I didn’t do.”
He pulled out his notepad and looked at it. “Finding a dead body in Seattle under suspicious circumstances. Pushing a woman down the stairs during the lifeboat drill. And now the last person seen with another murder victim. I’d say there’s a pattern here, Mr. Jacobson. Are there any new details you’d care to share with me?”
I thought for a moment. “We’ve been over the stairway incident. There are several things regarding Inese that you should check out. She has a boyfriend named Erik who is a waiter on this ship. You should speak with him.”
Grudion wrote a note. “Yah, I will. What else?”
Marion cleared her throat. “There’s one piece of information I can contribute. During my massage I asked my massage therapist, a young woman named Ingrid, if the staff worked well together. She replied that they did on the whole, but one of the massage therapists was a little snobbish and they had some arguments. You might check to see if that has anything to do with Inese.”
He wrote another note.
“The only other thing I can contribute is that Inese mentioned she was from Latvia. I asked her more and she seemed very evasive. Worth investigating.”
Another note. At least Grudion was paying attention.