by Mike Befeler
“And here come Julian Armour and his sidekicks.”
They all sat together in the front.
I let out a deep breath.
“Oh, look,” Marion said. “There’s Kimo, the man from Hawaii we met in the hot tub.”
A large man accompanied by an equally large, attractive dark-haired woman negotiated up the aisle.
Marion waved.
“Hey, howzit going?” he said in a loud, booming voice. “You the folks from the spa?”
“That’s us,” Marion said. “We enjoyed your performance in the talent show.”
He gave a whale-sized grin. “This my wife Haddie,” he said proudly. “You going to see all the flowers?”
“You bet,” I replied.
He laughed. “We want to compare the Canadian flowers to all our plumeria, hibiscus and antheriums.”
They took a seat a row ahead of us and on the other side of the bus.
“And there are Andrew and Helen Black,” Marion said and pointed.
I saw a couple who had just climbed on the bus sit near the front.
“The gang’s all here,” I said.
“Well, we have met quite a few people on the cruise.”
“Not that I’d remember any of them without your help.”
After we were all crammed in, the driver climbed into his seat. He closed the door, started the engine and reached for the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Victoria, the capital of British Columbia, and known as the Garden City for our year-round mild climate, the best in all of Canada.
“We pride ourselves on our seafood, and the waters of our harbor often teem with pods of orca whales. Did any of you see any as your ship came in today?”
“We did,” a chorus of Oldsters from Reno shouted.
“Crap. I missed the whales again.”
“We must have been on the wrong side of the ship,” Marion said in a whisper.
“I know. The whales are bound and determined to avoid me.”
“Now a little background on Victoria for you first-time visitors,” the driver said. “Victoria started as a fort for the Hudson’s Bay Company back in eighteen-forty-three, founded by James Douglas. Today it represents a blend of British, modern Canadian and native cultures.”
We drove along the waterfront as the driver continued his spiel. I watched as a red double-decker bus passed within inches of my nose and then looked out over the harbor at the whales that weren’t there.
“We’ll stop for thirty minutes here. Two photo opportunities you shouldn’t miss. First, the Empress Hotel. Be sure to take a picture of your friends in front of it. Then around the corner is the British Columbia Legislative Building, which will give you the impression of being in London.”
The bus pulled to a stop with the hiss of its brakes, reminding me of an angry snake. We all filed out, and I waited until the Oldsters had made their move, and then Marion and I took a different route.
Marion pulled out her camera and captured me in front of the hotel, and I reciprocated in front of the legislative building. With photo evidence of our arrival in Victoria, we sauntered along the harbor and admired the sailboats docked there.
“I once thought it would be wonderful to sail through the Caribbean,” Marion said.
“I think the sailboat we’re on for the cruise is the smallest one I want to go on.”
“You have no desire to have the wind whip through your hair as you tack to Aruba?”
“No thanks. I hate the ocean, and I’m pretty tactless.”
I ducked before she could swat me. Then we ambled along the quay before retracing our steps to the bus. As I climbed aboard, I noticed a black limo parked across the street.
As I headed up the aisle, Julian Armour glared at me.
“Hi, Julian. How’re they hanging?”
It was a good thing he had the window seat or I think he would have tackled me.
Once relegated to the back of the bus, I sat down.
Our bus driver counted heads and must have decided he had enough victims to continue with the trip, so he started the engine, shut the door, and we shot away like an overstuffed humpback whale, not that I had any clue what one actually looked like.
We traveled through a neighborhood of Victorian homes and the driver resumed his commentary. “Victoria is the westernmost city in Canada and home to over three hundred thousand residents.”
“Does it ever snow here?” someone up front asked.
“Very rarely. We did have one storm where the city shut down. We weren’t prepared. It’s so unusual that we don’t have snow plows.”
“You should live in Minneapolis,” someone up front said.
“Or Reno.” This was followed by a loud cheer.
After a twenty-minute drive, we pulled into a large parking lot, teeming with other buses.
“We’ll be here three hours,” the driver informed us. “I’ll hand each of you a Butchart Gardens ticket as you exit the bus.”
Marion and I were the last people to leave, but he still had enough tickets for us. I looked at the stub he had handed me, which had a bright red rose on it and the saying, “Over 100 years in Bloom.”
“Here’s to the next hundred years,” I said as we walked toward the turnstile. I looked back over my shoulder. A black limousine had parked across the street. Its doors remained shut.
“That limo has been following us,” I said to Marion.
She turned to look at it. “I’m sure there are dozens of black limos around.”
“No, I think it’s the same one. A limo was dockside, downtown when we stopped and now here.”
“Don’t get paranoid on me.”
“I already am.”
“Well, in that case I have a secret for you.”
“You have an Uzi in your purse?”
“Almost as good. Perfume.”
“Perfume?”
“Yes. I read in a woman’s magazine about a perfume called l’ Assassin. It smells good but has a secondary purpose. The chemical mixture irritates the eyes so it acts like pepper spray. The article recommended this scent as a protection device. It seems there are places like Canada that aren’t too keen on importing pepper spray. And carrying pepper spray on board might be a problem with the cruise line security.”
“I’ll be darned. You’re an armed and dangerous woman.”
“Just you remember it.”
I didn’t know if I felt better or worse with Marion carrying a lethal perfume spray.
With one more glance over my shoulder, I grabbed Marion’s hand and we advanced on Butchart Gardens.
After we entered, Marion pointed ahead. “Oh, look. A gift shop.”
“Let’s see what the place has to offer before we burden ourselves with souvenirs.”
Marion pouted. “Spoil sport.”
“I wouldn’t want you getting loaded down with gifts and not be able to reach your dangerous perfume.”
“You’re going to stay on that kick and not enjoy the beauty of the gardens?”
“I’m ready for the flowers. But I’m also going to keep my eyes open.”
Marion picked up a visitor’s guide map at a kiosk, and we both scrutinized it. Then we ambled through Waterwheel Square and followed the path to the left.
“Let’s start with the Sunken Garden,” Marion said.
“Fine by me. I have a sinking feeling.”
We came to an overlook and down below a path meandered through acres of posies.
“This would be quite a paradise if you were a bee,” I said.
“It’s quite a paradise for human eyes as well.”
“Unless you’re allergic to pollen.”
“Paul, are you going to be positive about anything this evening?”
“I’m positive that I’m nervous.”
We descended the stairway into the depth of the Sunken Garden. From down below I looked up at the cliffs that formed the wall of the once-upon-a-time quarry.
“I hav
e to admit this is more attractive than if it had been left as a gravel pit.”
Marion patted my arm. “Now you’re getting in the right spirit.”
Marion checked out the signs that identified the various types of plants and flowers. I let the colors play into my mind since I didn’t know a petunia from a hyacinth.
Then all of a sudden Marion grabbed my arm. “Look over there.” She pointed.
“What?”
“That man in the gray baseball cap.”
I squinted. “I don’t recognize him.”
“I do. It’s Erik, the waiter from the ship.”
My old ticker revved up a notch. “The plot thickens.”
“I wonder what he’s doing here.”
“He either has the evening off from the ship or he’s here for a different reason.”
“The last we heard, he hadn’t shown up for his shift in the dining room.”
“You’re right. I was under the impression that he had skipped out, hiding from Zarins.”
“He’s not hiding right now.”
Marion was right. Erik was purposefully striding through the gardens like he was going to meet someone. Now what exactly was he up to?
“So we have the Oldsters from Reno, Gary and Gina and now Erik here,” I said. “All we need are Zarins and his sidekick Valdis.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Marion said.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they had arrived in that black limousine.”
Marion’s smile disappeared. “Now you have me worried.”
“We’ll see how this plays out. Keep alert and in the meantime, enjoy the flowers.”
Marion snapped a picture in the Sunken Garden of me amid the neatly trimmed grass, sculptured hedges, swatches of red, yellow and white flowers and mixture of overhanging trees. I felt like nature boy, senior style. This would be a great place for a geezer to relax on a bench, enjoy the view and dream peaceful thoughts. Provided the geezer wasn’t enmeshed in a variety of crime investigations and surrounded by various miscreants wandering around. Part of me felt at peace in these environs and part felt on edge as if a meteor were going to drop out of the sky at any moment.
I looked back over my shoulder.
I wondered if Grudion was following me today. Did he feel he needed to keep an eye on me or had he moved on to better targets? On one hand, I’d just as soon be left alone. On the other, it wouldn’t be bad having him around if something happened. And given my propensity to attract trouble, who knew what was in store? And who knew what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow knew.
We came to a fountain, and Marion took another picture of me in front, probably with water appearing to spurt right out of my head. Kind of like the memories spewing out of my addled brain.
“What does my tour guide have on the list for me next?” I asked.
“The Rose Garden.”
“Maybe that will give me a rosier outlook.”
And what a place. We meandered through paths surrounded by red, yellow and white roses as far as the eye could see.
“I’d hate to pay the fertilizer bill for this place,” I said.
Marion sighed. “All this beauty and that’s what you’re thinking about?”
“I like the roses. But I can’t help but think about the grittier side of things.”
Next, we approached an open area with two tall totem poles implanted at the edge of a brickwork plaza. One totem had three levels of animals—a bear face on the bottom, a whale in the middle and a bird with tucked wings on the top. That pretty much summarized my encounter with nature in the Northwest—chased by a bear, teased by illusive whales and forced to listen to birds chirping in the spa. The other totem had a giant eagle on the top with its wings stretched out, a scowl on its beak and large beady eyes staring to each side.
“Looks just like Grudion,” I said.
“No, it’s more colorful than he is. Have you noticed that he’s usually dressed in white?”
“Not that I remember, but it should make him stand out in this place like a sparrow among peacocks.”
“Except for his red hair,” Marion said. “That’s one characteristic you can always spot.”
We continued past a fountain with an entwined fish sculpture, through a Japanese arch and along a path of bright red flowers to a cove. The path ended at a wooden deck that overlooked the water. Half a dozen sailboats were moored across a small bay. As I watched, a seaplane circled and then came in for a landing.
We retraced our steps and found a bench to sit on, holding hands just like newlyweds. After half an hour of making goo-goo eyes at each other, we took another path through ferns and large leafy plants and strolled over a wooden bridge that spanned a bubbling brook. Imbedded in the undergrowth were Japanese sculptures and little pagoda structures.
“Doesn’t this make you relax, Paul?”
“I don’t know. I keep imagining people jumping out of the bushes.”
At that moment I felt a tap on my shoulder.
Chapter 22
I jerked my head around and found Gary Hargrave standing there.
“Hi, Gary,” I said.
“Don’t ‘Hi, Gary’ me. Why are you every place I go?”
“I guess because we have the same tour. I’m willing to stay out of your way if you’re willing to stay out of mine.”
“Have you seen Gina?” he asked, obviously still angry.
“We saw her with you on the bus,” Marion said. “Did something happen?”
“Yes. She went into the restroom. I was supposed to meet her here, but she hasn’t shown up.”
“I could check the restroom for you,” Marion said.
“I already had a woman do that. Gina wasn’t there.”
I thought back to the black limousine and the conversation I’d had the day before on the deserted island with Zarins. “I think someone may have abducted your sister.”
“Are you involved in this?”
“No. But yesterday I ran into a crime boss who could be responsible for your sister’s disappearance.”
Gary’s shoulders sagged as if he had turned into a rag doll.
“I need to ask you a pointed question,” I said. “Did you or your sister have anything to do with the death of Inese or the disappearance of your aunt?”
He looked at me, his face drawn. “Of course not.” Then he placed his hands over his face, and I heard sobbing. “I couldn’t live with myself if my sister were harmed, particularly after the disappearance of Aunt Ellen.”
I raised my eyebrows to Marion, and she nodded. “Do you have any new ideas on what happened to your aunt?” I asked.
He uncovered his face. Tears brimmed in his eyes. “This trip has been a disaster. Both the people I care most about have disappeared. Gina and I have been trying to fathom what could have happened to Aunt Ellen. And now Gina disappears.”
At that moment there was a rustling in the bushes, and Karlis Zarins appeared. Then Valdis pushed out of the undergrowth. He held a knife to the throat of a bedraggled Gina.
“Gina!” Gary shouted.
“Stand where you are.” Zarins extracted a pistol from his belt.
Gary’s eyes grew as large as silver dollars.
“Why did you two kill my daughter?” Zarins asked.
Gary look bewildered. “We didn’t kill anyone. Who’s your daughter?”
I looked at both Gary and Gina. Gina had an equally puzzled expression on her face.
Then it struck me. “Zarins, I was wrong. Gina and Gary didn’t kill Inese. But I think I know now who did.”
“I have half a mind to eliminate all of you,” Zarins said, waving the gun toward us.
“Not a good idea,” I said, trying to keep my voice as casual as possible. “Let everyone go, and I’ll tell you who really killed Inese. Then you can do what you need to do and leave in your black limo.”
“Black limo?” Zarins eyed me. “Are you crazy, old man? We came in a float plane.”
&nbs
p; “Then who was in the limousine?” I asked.
I heard a throat-clearing sound behind me and turned to see Ellen Hargrave standing there, tapping her cane on a paving stone. “I was in the limo.”
“Aunt Ellen!” Both Gary and Gina shouted simultaneously.
“Who’s the old broad?” Valdis asked, tightening his grip on Gina.
“Watch your language, young man,” Ellen said.
Zarins waved his gun back and forth. “What the hell is going on here?”
Ellen leveled her gaze at Zarins. “Gentlemen don’t point guns at ladies.”
“Lady, I don’t know who you are or what you’re doing here.”
Ellen stood as tall as her five-foot-six-inch frame would allow. “I’m Gary and Gina’s aunt. Now please have your companion release his grasp on my niece.”
“Not until I find out what’s going on here,” Zarins countered.
“Let me take a crack at an explanation, Mr. Zarins,” I said. “This charming lady here is Mrs. Ellen Hargrave, the aunt of Gary and Gina. I believe she staged a disappearance, which we can find out about in a moment, but right now she’s obviously concerned about the safety of her nephew and niece. I previously thought that Gary and Gina might have been responsible for the death of Inese and the disappearance of Mrs. Hargrave, but I now admit I was wrong. Ellen, would you care to add to that?”
“You have the facts correct, Paul. I didn’t get thrown off my balcony as the evidence indicated. I set that up as a test for Gary and Gina.”
“What?” they both exclaimed at the same time.
“Now, now. I shouldn’t have gone to this extreme, but I wanted to find out if you were only interested in my money. I pretended to disappear to see how you would respond—if you would be sad or immediately make plans to divide up my money. I’m pleased to say you seemed genuinely concerned that I had disappeared.”
“How did you find that out and where have you been?” Gary asked.
“I’ve had Gladys checking on you.” Ellen chuckled. “And I’ve been hiding in Gladys’ room with a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign posted, ordering room service and enjoying the view from her balcony. Gladys told the maid not to come in, so no one knew I was there.”
I remembered something I’d read in my journal. “Ellen, did you ever discover why you had the wrong medicine that made you sick?”