“Really?” said Jack. “That quick?”
“Yeah, I think so. Won’t know for sure until we’ve taken a look at why it got stuck, but yeah I feel confident it’ll be fixed quickly.”
“Does Mr. Smalls know yet?” asked Frank.
“No,” the man answered. “Left that for you to do.”
Jack walked back into the hallway, and Frank followed.
“This is bad,” said Jack. “First two people are murdered, now this.”
“What do you want to do now?” asked Frank.
“Back to the infirmary,” answered Jack. “Now, tell me what happened.”
“Well,” said Frank. “I was going to swing by security, but the elevator never came. I didn’t think anything of it—I took the stairs instead. But when I went to go back upstairs and the elevator still didn’t come, I walked over to maintenance. I was there when they found Jojo’s body. We were right behind Bobby.”
When they returned to the infirmary, Jack was surprised to see Mr. Smalls already there. The doctor walked over and whispered, “I hope you don’t mind, Jack. I called Mr. Smalls.”
Jack looked at Mr. Smalls, who was sitting with his head between his legs next to an unconscious Bobby.
“He kept crying and carrying on,” explained the doctor, “so I gave him another shot. Then Mr. Smalls came in,” he held two fingers together, “this close to hyperventilating. He about passed out when he saw the body.”
Mr. Smalls looked up. “Oh, Jack,” he moaned, “Two murders, now this.”
“I know, Mr. Smalls. I’m sorry about Jojo. Can you think of anyone who might wish him harm?”
“Why, what do you mean?” asked Mr. Smalls in an agitated voice. “This was an accident, a terrible accident. Wasn’t it?”
Frank stood between Jack and Mr. Smalls. Speaking in a low voice, Frank said, “Jack, you heard maintenance. The ship’s old and in need of some major upgrades. You don’t think this was another murder, do you?”
Jack didn’t answer. His eyes kept involuntarily looking at Jojo and his bloody baseball cap. For some reason Nene Albright popped into his head. Something she’d said. But what? And what did it have to do with this? Jack pulled his small notebook out of his pocket. He flipped through the pages until he found his notes from his first interview with Nene. His eyes traveled down the page, resting on a seemingly inconsequential, off-hand comment she’d made. Did it mean anything?
He searched the pages until he found the list he’d started earlier that week of what they did and didn’t know. That they didn’t know why Matt Smith was murdered was listed, but Jack had been giving that a lot of thought. He thought back to his first day on board, and all that Curt Noble had told him.
Curt had instituted random room searches to catch any staff who might have brought drugs on board. It occurred to Jack that a crew member, after he or she discovered the new procedure, might have hidden drugs in the cafeteria, which at the time had been closed for renovations. What if Matt caught someone in the cafeteria kitchen?
Was Jojo somehow involved with drug smuggling? Could he have hidden drugs in the kitchen? Did he kill Matt Smith? Jack was tempted to laugh out loud. That Jojo was a drug smuggler was a huge leap and, even though he hadn’t known Jojo long, the idea seemed ridiculous.
But Jack had a familiar feeling, the one that told him he was close to all the pieces falling into place. For the moment he would treat Jojo’s death as the accident it seemed to be, but in his heart he had the nagging feeling there was more to his death than faulty wires.
“Jack?” said Mr. Smalls. “I ran into the chef again.”
Jack looked at Mr. Smalls like the man was crazy.
“Mr. Smalls, if stolen pastries and ruined cakes were the only crimes, I wouldn’t say this. But there have been two murders in less than a week, and I should be able to find more clues as to the killers’ identities by viewing your ship’s video footage. I can’t though because the security system’s hopelessly outdated.”
“I’m sorry, Jack. You’re right of course. I’m not thinking straight right now.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Thursday morning Jack sat back in his office chair, exhausted. It was mid-morning but he’d gotten next to no sleep after the discovery of Jojo’s body. He was frustrated; tomorrow they’d be back in port and his career would be over, at least in Tampa. He knew how it would look if he didn’t have a suspect in custody. Aside from wanting to avoid the professional embarrassment, a feeling of injustice motivated Jack to keep trying to solve the case. The thought that two people, maybe more, might waltz off the ship and get away with murder pissed him off to no end.
He looked up as his door opened, expecting to see Frank. Instead of Frank, Marni walked in. He stood.
“Hi,” he said.
Marni smiled, but she looked uncomfortable. “Hi,” she said. “Um, look, Jack. About last night …”
Jack hadn’t had a lot of time to think about the previous night or what might happen next. He knew that sleeping with Marni Michaels had been a big mistake. The attraction he felt toward her was undeniable, but he should not have given into it. He could tell himself all day and all night how she’d thrown herself at him. That she was a siren and had lured him in. That as a man, he couldn’t resist for long her beauty and sex appeal. But Jack knew that was all crap; he should have, and could have, resisted. He hadn’t tried hard enough.
Jack pointed at the chair across from his desk.
“Please,” he said, “sit down.”
Marni sat on the edge of the metal chair. “I like you, Jack, and what happened was good. But …” she hesitated, embarrassed.
“It’s okay. I understand.” Jack walked over and kneeled down in front of Marni. He took her hands in his.
“You’re a beautiful woman, and last night was special. But the truth is, it shouldn’t have happened. I hope you agree.”
“Oh I do,” answered Marni, eagerly. “I do. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I thought I wanted you, and you’re great, but no. I think, I hope, there’s someone else.”
As Jack stood, he pulled Marni to her feet and hugged her.
“There is. How could there not be? Look at you. You’re beautiful.”
Marni smiled. She walked to the door, then turned around and looked up at Jack. He knew that even though his heart belonged to another, he wouldn’t soon forget those blue eyes.
“Sometimes,” said Marni, “being with one person, someone you maybe thought you wanted to be with, only makes you realize how much you don’t. Sometimes, it makes you realize who you do want to be with.”
An image of Amy swam before Jack’s eyes.
“Right,” he said. “Let me walk you to the elevator.”
Jack was still surprised at how quickly maintenance had fixed the elevator. He knew that, before he ever got into another one, probably for the rest of his life, he’d be looking down to make sure the floor was actually there.
As they walked down the hall, Marni stopped and turned toward him. “Listen, Jack—there’s something I need to tell you.”
Jack saw Mr. Smalls approaching. He motioned for Jack to come closer, to speak confidentially.
“Can you give me a second, Marni?”
Marni looked at the two men. “You know what,” she said, “it’s not important. Well it is, but maybe we can talk later.”
“Okay,” Jack said.
“Hello, Jack. I was just coming to see you. I’ve been speaking with maintenance about our current security systems and how we might improve them. I was going to get your input next. They told me something I found very disturbing to hear.”
Jack looked over his shoulder at Marni. She took a few steps backward to give him and Mr. Smalls more privacy.
“Well,” said Mr. Smalls. “It seems that the elevator had been tampered with. They said it appears as if the emergency button had been jimmied.”
“I don’t understand,” said Jack. “What are you saying?”
&n
bsp; “I’m saying that someone might have wanted the elevator stuck one floor up, but I don’t know how they worked it so that the doors would open, and I can’t say for sure that Jojo or Bobby were specifically targeted, but someone on this floor was.”
Jack ran a hand through his hair. Mr. Smalls left and walked toward the staircase. Jack turned back toward Marni, wondering if he should advise her, despite maintenance’s assurance that the elevator was fixed, to take the stairs. Before he could say anything he heard the familiar ding as it arrived at their floor.
***
Though it was still pretty early, Amy stepped into the elevator with plans to go to the ship’s casino. She’d only been one time, mostly because she’d grown up in Reno and gambling held little appeal to her. However, she got to thinking that since she’d grown up in Reno, maybe she’d have an advantage. At any rate, it was something to do.
She rolled her eyes, annoyed, when the elevator went down instead of up. It stopped at the second floor, the doors opened, and Jack was standing there. He was the last person she’d expected to see, and the last person she’d wanted to see. What was worse, he wasn’t alone. Amy recognized the woman standing beside him.
Marni didn’t understand what was going on, but when the elevator doors opened, she could tell Jack knew the woman inside; Judging by the look the woman gave her, Marni felt more than unwelcome.
“I’ll take the stairs,” said Marni, quickly departing.
Jack stepped inside the elevator. He pushed the emergency button and turned toward Amy. “Amy, you have to listen to me.”
Amy tried to reach around Jack. “No I don’t,” she said, anger evident in her voice. “You’ve made how you feel clear.”
Jack held Amy’s arms. “Listen to me.”
Amy pushed him away. “Leave me alone, Jack.”
“Amy, I’m sorry. About what you saw, about being so hard on you. I’m sorry.”
Tears had begun to stream down Amy’s face. Her heart rejoiced at Jack’s words, but her pride held her tongue. She kept picturing him coming out of that room. She assumed it belonged to the woman she’d seen him with, the same woman who had just bolted. The thought of him touching another woman sickened her. Jack turned and released the elevator and he got out. Amy looked up.
“I love you,” he said softly.
As the doors shut Amy looked at Jack, but she didn’t answer.
Jack went back to his office and sat. He felt tired all the way to his bones, and wondered how it was possible that less than two weeks had passed since he’d boarded the ship. His eyes fell on the still-open newspaper on his desk. He thought about a comment Marni had made earlier that week. That it was odd that nobody on the crew had the initials RJ in some way or another. Jack stood. He trusted Frank, but he wanted to see the manifest for himself.
***
Jack pushed through the glass doors that led outside. As he did, Nene Albright and her sister Gaga were walking in. The sun was full and bright in the sky, and like the previous late afternoon, they were dressed for protection, wearing long dresses and floppy hats.
“Hello ladies,” said Jack. “Another sunny, beautiful day outside.”
“Yes, gorgeous,” agreed both ladies.
“No gloves today?” asked Jack, looking at Nene’s hands.
She seemed surprised by the question, then seemed to remember. “Oh yes, gloves. I meant to bring them, but forgot.”
For a moment, Jack was lost in thought, his eyes lingering on Nene Albright’s weathered hands.
“I’m sorry,” he said, laughing. The ladies giggled.
“Have a good afternoon, Jack,” said Nene.
Jack watched the two ladies walk away, wondering at the thoughts that were swirling behind his eyes. Something about the women stirred a memory, or reminded him of something. He shrugged.
Five minutes later he was standing at the bridge requesting the ship’s manifest from the captain.
“Of course, Jack.” The captain opened a drawer and pulled out a large stack of papers. “Here it is,” he said. “It’s going to take you a while to get through it all. Why don’t you use my office?”
“Thank you, sir.”
Jack was led down the hall and into a medium-size office, nowhere near as nice as Mr. Smalls’ was, but still impressive. He sat at the captain’s desk. Like Mr. Smalls’ desk, the captain’s was covered with paperwork—work schedules, a pamphlet from a race track in Tampa, and bank and investment statements. He saw lots of zeros and was tempted to look closer at the statements, curious to see what good money looked like and how people invested it.
The stack of pages in front of him detailed all employees and the area in which he or she worked. He started with housekeeping. He already knew the R in RJ stood for Robert, which had been on the nametag found in Pam’s room. He needed a last name that started with J. But nobody fit those initials. Next he checked the kitchen, then the entertainment staff. It was nearly noon when he finished. He’d been looking for two hours, and he knew nothing more than when he’d arrived.
He abruptly sat up. He wasn’t finished. Had he been blind? Was it right in front of his face? The last sheet of paper listed the names of all security personnel. It wasn’t long, but he still used a sheet of paper to go down the list. When he came upon the name he paused, reading it twice. He looked up. A woman passed the door. He yelled out, “Excuse me, miss.”
The woman returned and looked in the office. “Yes?” she said.
“Could I get you to take a look at something?”
She was young, probably not older than twenty-one. She looked at Jack like he was an old man who couldn’t see. “Of course.”
She came over and Jack pointed at the line. “What does that say?”
“It says Robert Jacob Meadows—Security.”
“Thanks.”
She gave Jack a perplexed look then left the room.
Only one person on the entire crew had the initials RJ in his name: and it belonged to Robert Meadows, though he liked to be called Bobby.
“Son of a bitch.”
Jack thought back to the video of Pam and the mysterious RJ. Jack had only been on the cruise a week. He’d felt something familiar about the man she’d run into, but now that he knew RJ and Bobby were the same man, Jack could see in his mind’s eye what he hadn’t recognized then.
Jack’s next thoughts fell on Frank. Had he mistakenly skipped looking at security personnel like Jack had almost done? The alternative was an unpleasant thought; that Frank had covered for Bobby, that he’d hidden from Jack the fact that Bobby was RJ. Had he? And if yes, why?
***
Despite the activity surrounding him, the man was undisturbed; he was used to all the people. If he wanted quiet and solitude, he had his cabin. He’d come to find that what other people considered distractions he found to be hardly more than white noise. He was lost in thoughts, dark and disturbing. He’d underestimated Jack Harney. But how was he supposed to know that Jack would have a friend to send the video footage to? He hadn’t counted on the possibility that the footage could be restored.
And that’s why Jojo had to die. He couldn’t risk Jojo’s face being recognized. He’d panic and would start ratting out the rest of the team. The man felt relatively safe. As far as he knew, there had been no witnesses Matt’s murder. At least no one had come forward. A waiter handed him a cup of coffee, nodding his head respectfully.
He sipped his coffee, his eyes scanning the crowds of tourists. The man was smart enough to know when it was time to cut and run. They’d had a good stint and made a lot of money. But things happened, things you couldn’t always prepare for. He knew they’d blamed him, and they were probably right. He shouldn’t have panicked when Matt came into the cafeteria. For months it had run like clockwork. It was almost funny how one screw-up led to the whole thing falling apart. He wondered, with Jojo gone, was he safe?
He thought about Jack Harney. He worried that Jack already knew or suspected why Matt had be
en murdered. And there was always the possibility he’d realize who RJ was. Then what? An idea occurred to him. He knew the ship and its blind spots, which were many. It was the blind spot by the employee cafeteria kitchen door that had made disposal of Matt Smith’s body so easy. It would be easy to lure Jack to the same location and kill him. Definitely something to think about.
***
After returning the ship’s manifest to the captain, Jack planned to look for Frank, but instead found himself pressing the button for the second floor. Aside from the diamond he’d found, and Matt Smith’s murder, there seemed to be no logical reason for another visit. Yet once again, Jack found himself walking through the cafeteria’s swinging doors.
The cafeteria’s transformation surprised Jack. A wedding reception was being held later that day, so the crew was eating elsewhere and the room was being redecorated. It could pass for another ballroom. Long tables with white tablecloths had replaced all the booths, and a fancy chandelier had been installed. Jack thought Mr. Smalls must have been feeling bad that the couple’s wedding and reception date had needed to be changed. He seemed to be going all out to ensure everything was perfect. Jack could see him at the other end of the room, personally supervising the proper placement of centerpieces and lace.
As Jack neared the kitchen, the doors swung open. A short, chubby waiter emerged. Jack recognized the man; he’d seen him before. But it was the first time he’d had gotten a good look at him. He was old with white hair and a thick, white mustache, like Santa, thought Jack. This time Santa wasn’t alone; he left the kitchen with another man. The second man also had a thick mustache, but his was dark and made Jack think of Groucho Marx. He was taller and much thinner than Santa. When the men saw Jack looking, they put their heads down, mumbled, “Good morning,” and hurried past. Jack’s arm shot out and his hand gripped the chubby man’s arm.
“You dropped something,” said Jack, pointing at a piece of white cloth on the floor. “Here, let me,” he said, bending down. Jack picked up the item, looking at it with curiosity, then handed it to the man, who quickly walked off. Jack smiled. Later, he thought.
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