by Mike Befeler
“I thought you had memory problems, Mr. Jacobson.”
“I do. But I read pretty well and keep a journal of what happens to me.” I tapped the side of my noggin. “That’s my memory-assistance device.”
He stared at me, and I felt like two laser beams were trying to penetrate my skull.
“Then this morning I had a report of you being at the scene of an unconscious man in the Jacuzzi in the spa.”
“That’s correct. Some guy passed out in the hot tub.”
“Do you know who that was?”
“I have no clue. Some man who I tried to keep from drowning.”
“Keep from drowning or trying to drown, Mr. Jacobson? That was Julian Armour.”
Chapter 9
Crapola. I’d had an altercation with a guy in the dining room, and the next morning I found him slumping unconscious in the hot tub. How did I end up in this mess?
I took a deep breath. “I can assure you, Mr. Grudion, that I happened upon Julian Armour in the Jacuzzi and had nothing to do with him being unconscious. I called for help. I wouldn’t have done that if I were trying to harm him.”
“Or did the situation go beyond your control?”
“It was already beyond my control. He was unconscious when I spotted him in the hot tub. Rather than harassing me, why don’t you find out what happened to Mr. Armour?”
“Yah, I will, Mr. Jacobson. When he regains consciousness, I’ll interview him.”
“Good. You’ll find I had nothing to do with him other than trying to keep him from drowning.”
“We’ll see, Mr. Jacobson. We’ll see.”
After Grudion left, I sat out on the balcony, steaming. “I thought cruises were supposed to be relaxing. I’ve done nothing but have run-ins with the local constabulary since I crossed over the gangplank onto this ship.”
“You just need a shore excursion, Paul. We’ll be disembarking in Juneau in several hours.”
“Good. I need some land without Grudion breathing down my neck.”
After a fortunately uneventful lunch, we gathered our jackets and headed up to the same deck where I had walked that morning to watch our docking in Juneau.
We sailed up Gastineau Channel with green hills on both sides of the ship. I watched a waterfall cascade down a ravine and splash into the sound. Then ahead a town appeared nestled below two steeply sloping mountains. The emerald green intermixed with gray from avalanche corridors commanded a view above another cruise ship anchored in the Juneau harbor.
“We’re not the only tourists today,” I said.
“I understand there are half a dozen cruise ships in the Inside Passage right now.”
“And here I thought we were so special.”
“We are.” Marion gave me a peck on the cheek. “Oh, I just remembered something. We’re close enough to civilization that the cell phone reception should be acceptable. I was supposed to remind you to call your granddaughter.” She reached in her purse and fiddled with a little gadget and handed it to me.
I looked at it like she had given me a piece of road kill. “What do I do with this?”
“Push the green button and speak with your family.”
I punched the green button and started yapping into it as if it were a microphone.
Marion grabbed my arm. “Put it against your ear and wait until someone answers.”
“Oh.”
I thrust it against the side of my face and heard a buzzing-ringing sound. Then a woman’s voice answered and I recognized it from my distant past as that of my daughter-in-law Allison.
“This is Paul of Alaska calling.”
“How are you enjoying the cruise?”
“It’s interesting, but I haven’t seen any whales yet.”
“Jennifer told me you found a dead body.”
“Actually a couple of them.”
“What?!”
“Just my propensity to attract strange events. Is my granddaughter around?”
“Yes, but I’m not going to let you get off the phone before you tell me what happened.”
I recounted my adventures and then Allison retrieved Jennifer.
When she picked up I said, “I read in my journal that you and Austin had given me some ideas on how to solve the murder in Seattle.”
“Did that help?”
“Indirectly. I was hypnotized and remembered an important detail.”
“Cool. What was it?”
“A red bandanna that I had seen another street person wearing that same morning.”
“Ah-ha. So there was a grudge involved.”
“Could be. Anyway, I phoned Detective Bearhurst and gave him the clue. He didn’t sound very impressed, but he at least agreed to look into it.”
“That’s good, Grandpa. By the time you return to Seattle the police will have it solved.”
“I hope so because I’ve got myself in more trouble on the ship.”
“Not another dead body?”
“Yes. A strange choking murder in the spa. Then I was accused of stealing a man’s wallet, found the same man unconscious in the Jacuzzi and was also accused of pushing a woman down the stairs. But I still haven’t seen any of those sneaky whales.”
“I can understand the whales. You’ve been too busy with other problems. Now tell me exactly what happened.”
I went through the events as I had read them in my journal. “So will you come bail your grandpa out of an Alaskan jail if they lock me up?”
“It won’t get to that. I’ll help you solve the murder. The other ones are easy. The wallet is a simple misunderstanding. The man will find it.”
“I sure hope so.”
“And the man unconscious in the hot tub. You were only trying to help. Too bad he was the same one who accused you of stealing his wallet.”
“Yeah, that didn’t look good.”
“And the woman falling down the stairs was an accident.”
“Unless someone intentionally bumped into me.”
“But the only situation that’s really serious is the dead woman in the spa.”
“I’ll say it’s serious.”
“I’ve been reading about crime investigation. There are three factors: means, opportunity and motive. MOM. You had the means with the hot stones and the opportunity because you were receiving a massage. But you had no motive.”
“She was a nice young woman and didn’t deserve to die that way or any way.”
I heard Jennifer tapping on the phone. “So what we need to figure out is who else had a motive. Clearly that person snuck into the other room and used the hot stone as a murder weapon. Like the street person in Seattle, it might have been someone with a grudge.”
“I nosed around the spa staff and the victim Inese wasn’t very popular. I checked out one lead but it didn’t pan out. Also, I can’t see one of her coworkers going to the extreme of killing her.”
“No, maybe not. Who else could there be? Murders are often committed by family or friends.”
“I don’t know about her family but she had one friend, a waiter named Erik.”
“Ah-ha. The boyfriend.”
“I didn’t pick up a real romantic interest, more good buddies. I’ve checked him out and he’s a possibility.”
“Okay, one suspect. Another avenue to pursue would be something about money. Greed is a prime motive.”
“Thank you, Professor. I can’t imagine someone working as a massage therapist on a cruise ship being rich.”
“Maybe she’s an heiress who has run away from home. Hiding out as a common crew member.”
“Then who would know who she really is and why would they kill her?”
“Someone trying to prevent her from sharing an inheritance, Grandpa. Greed. Try this scenario. Another heir tracked her down and made it look like you were the murderer to hide his own motive. Then he will inherit more money and not have to share it with Inese.”
“Seems a little far-fetched.”
“You never know, Grandpa.
You’ll have to check out all the possibilities.”
“That’s what the security officer Grudion is supposed to do, but he’s so busy sniffing my butt that he’s probably not pursuing anyone else.”
“That’s why you need to keep working on it. Why don’t you give me the victim’s full name and I’ll see if I can find anything by googling it.”
“Whating it?”
“Google. I’ll go check the name out on the Internet.”
“Is that like a circus net?”
“Grandpa, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.” I heard a disgusted sigh. “I’ll use my computer to research information—to learn anything I can. What’s her name?”
“Inese Zarins.”
“Is this the right spelling?” Jennifer spelled it back correctly. My granddaughter was a sharp cookie.
“I’ll hop right on it, Grandpa. The next time you call I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“Have at it.”
“Will do. Now I need to finish my chores so Mom will let me go play tennis.”
“Smash a few serves for me.”
We parted and I handed the cell phone back to Marion, who tucked it away for the next time.
After Captain Sanderson had expertly navigated us into the dock, we disembarked with two thousand of our closest friends. When they scanned my key card as I left the ship, no bells rang to prevent me from scampering ashore. Once my feet hit solid ground, I felt I had escaped Grudion’s clutches.
“So what’s the agenda?” I asked Marion.
She held up two tickets. “We’re scheduled to take a bus tour of Juneau and then visit the Mendenhall Glacier.”
“No whales?”
“Not on this stop. We’ll go on a whale-watching excursion in Ketchikan.”
“Hot damn. As long as I spot at least one whale on this trip.”
The small town of Juneau rested right against the base of Mount Roberts and Mount Juneau. No room for the city to expand, and visitors had to either fly or sail here as no roads led to Juneau.
We climbed up the steps and onto our own private bus—one of twenty lined up along the dock amid a mob of savage tourists. After the bus was crammed full of squirming visitors, the driver took his seat and we were underway.
“Good afternoon, folks. Welcome to the capital of Alaska. Care to venture a guess on the percentage of residents who work for the state government?”
There were a smattering of guesses.
“It’s approximately seventy percent. The rest of us are in the tourist trade. And many of the shop owners only reside here during the summer before retreating to Florida during the winter.”
After cruising the streets of Juneau, which didn’t take very long given its small size, we hightailed it out onto a highway and entered a parking lot of a large building.
“This is the Macauley Salmon Hatchery. We’ll be stopping here for a tour and you can visit the shop afterwards. Synchronize your watches. We’ll depart in forty-five minutes and remember you’re on bus ninety-three.”
Marion and I followed the crowd, and a woman in a brown uniform began explaining the wonders of salmon and how they returned to this spot every year. We viewed a salmon ladder that zig-zagged up a hill.
Then we were led down stairs toward large vats of baby salmon.
“Please watch your step,” our guide informed us.
I was reaching for the railing when someone above me bashed into me. I tripped and bumped the person below me who went sailing into the vat and landed with a loud splash.
Chapter 10
People gasped.
The guide jumped into the pool and brought up a spluttering woman.
After they climbed out, the soaked woman shook a finger at me. “I saw you push me in.”
“Wait a minute, lady,” I said. “I’m sorry you fell in. It was an accident. Someone bumped into me.”
She leveled a gaze at me. “I’ve seen you before. You’re the old man who knocked me down the stairs during the lifeboat drill.” She reached over and picked up a cane.
I remembered reading that in my journal.
“Did you see who pushed me, Marion?”
“No, I was looking into the vat on the other side of the ladder.”
“Something’s fishy here,” I said. “Twice now I’ve been shoved into that lady.”
I asked those around me, but no one claimed to have seen what happened.
We navigated the stairs with no further mishap and entered the gift shop. On a table rested crackers with creamed salmon spread, which filled my tummy while Marion perused the gew-gaws on the shelves.
I returned for a second helping of salmon pâté.
“We’ve seen how the salmon start out and how they end up,” I said, patting my stomach.
We clambered back onto bus number ninety-three and headed to the Mendenhall Glacier, where we parked with a covey of other tour buses.
“These things congregate like flies on a succulent cow,” I said to Marion.
“It is the tourist season, and we’re tourists.”
“Darn tourists,” I grumbled.
Marion and I wandered down a path and came to a point where we had a full frontal view of the glacier. A huge bed of ice and snow flowed from mountains down to a lake filled with calved chunks of ice.
“Makes me think of a huge ice cream float,” I said.
Marion had me stand close to the water and snapped a picture with her digital camera.
“Now I’ve been immortalized for posterity.”
“Your granddaughter Jennifer will enjoy seeing a picture of you in Alaska.”
“Maybe you can shoot a picture of me with a bear as well.”
“If you find one, let me know.”
Marion indicated she wanted to visit the gift shop.
“I wonder if they have any of that good salmon pâté here,” I said.
“Why don’t you come along and find out.”
“I will in a little while. You go ahead. I want to explore the wonders of nature a little more.”
Marion strolled back on the main path, and I navigated a less-traveled path along the edge of the lake. At first there were several other jacket-clad touristas with me, but then the crowd cleared out and I had nature all to my lonesome.
I found a spot to enjoy the view of both the glacier and a waterfall cascading down a green hillside. I noticed sections of brown where the glacier had cut away rock, but vegetation hadn’t yet grown in. It was obvious that the glacier used to be much larger.
With my head filled with visions of glasses of iced tea filled with ice cubes, I moseyed back toward civilization.
As I rounded a corner in the faint trail, I saw a bush ahead thrashing. Being the inveterate snoop that I was, I peeked into the undergrowth. A brown bear was happily munching on red berries.
Uh-oh.
I backed slowly away, but the bear had spotted me. He rose up on his hind legs. Although he wasn’t fully grown by bear standards, to me he appeared too large to mess around with. My heart thumped lickety-split, as I tried to decide between having a seizure or being a bear snack. Not turning my back, I continued to feel my way along the trail.
Then he started following me, not running but ambling along like he thought I had a treat for him. I kept moving and he kept up with me. Finally, I came out in a clearing near the buses. Then I broke into a run as fast as my old legs could carry me.
As I turned my head, I saw the bear loping along behind me. Then I spotted a ranger.
I waved my hands at the ranger. “Help! This bear is chasing me.”
The bear came to a halt and stood up on its hind legs, sniffing.
“Sir, were you trying to feed the bear?” the female ranger inquired.
“Hell no. I just looked in the bushes and there it was.”
She wagged a finger at me. “Were you harassing the bear while it was feeding for winter?”
“It harassed me.”
“This time of year
bears don’t want to be interrupted. They’re fine if you leave them alone.”
By this time the bear had decided he’d had enough of tourists and ambled back into the undergrowth.
My breathing had slowed to twice normal.
“May I see some identification please?”
“What for?”
“We’ve had several incidents lately of people deliberately bothering bears in restricted parts of the park. You just came running out of an off-limits area.”
“I never saw any signs. I was just trying to get away from the damn bear.”
“Sir, are you going to be cooperative?”
I sighed, took out my wallet and showed my identification card.
She made some notes on a pad. “Where are you staying in Alaska?”
“I’m on the Scandinavian Sea Lines Sunshine.”
She jotted again and then looked me in the eyes. “Please refrain from harassing the wildlife for the duration of your trip and follow the signs.” She pointed to a large placard I had not seen that indicated a restricted area and warned people to not enter.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Duly warned, I headed into the gift shop to mingle with wildlife of the human variety and to find Marion.
I spotted her by a counter where she was looking at carved animal figures.
“There you are,” she said. “Enjoy the wildlife?”
“Not particularly. I got busted for giving a bear an idea for a larger meal.”
Marion put her hands on her hips. “What happened now?”
I explained the whole encounter with the bear and the ranger.
She shook her head. “Maybe we better limit you to whale watching.”
“Yeah. Since I haven’t seen any, that will be safer.”
Back on the bus, Marion struck up a conversation with a woman across the aisle while I watched to make sure no bears were following the bus.
“What excursion are you taking in Skagway?” the woman asked.
“We’re going on the White Pass railway.”
“We are too.” I turned toward the woman and saw that her eyes lit up. “You’re taking the afternoon ride, aren’t you?”
“Let me check,” Marion said. She rummaged through her purse, found a sheet of paper and said, “No. We’re scheduled for the morning.”