Cruise to Critique (Lucky & Led Cruise Ship Mystery Series Book 5)
Page 14
“Huh? What do you think he needs at a time like this, Led?”
“Divine inspiration would be helpful,” Led quipped. “And, that’s right up your alley, right?” With a sense of relief for having a reason to get out of the claustrophobic producing office, Lucky walked out.
The second that Lucky was out of sight, Led jumped out of his chair and went over to the Chief Inspector’s office closet. He opened the door, and sure enough, there was the rifle that he had recovered from the water off the dive shop beach. He picked it up and checked to see if there was a round in the chamber. As he suspected, since it had been used to shoot Marsha, he meant, Yolanda, it was empty. He loaded one from the magazine into the chamber and checked that the safety was on.
Led knew that he, in no way, could get outside the ship to make the shot, so he meandered his way through the hallways and found a “CREW ONLY” door. He searched out the crew elevator. Providentially, the elevator was sitting there and the doors opened as soon as he pressed the up button. The cabin had been identified as being on Deck Seven, so he punched the number ten on the pad.
Deck Ten was the Lido deck, open to the outside skin of the ship. The deck hands had an apparatus for cleaning the windows which they stored overhanging from this deck. He figured that he could stand on the narrow seat of the window cleaning tackle, shuttle it across to the exact location over the Deck Seven cabin harboring the hostage and lower himself down to the cabin...and shoot Conners. He didn’t plan on killing him, just putting him out of commission long enough to allow the Chief Inspector to break in and save Samantha.
So far, so good, Led thought as he found the window cleaning gear stored as he had hoped. He climbed over the ship’s rail and boarded the bench on the contraption. He began shuttling it to the location where the cabin room with the balcony would be and slowly lowered it. He was amazed how quiet the equipment moved. He silently gave thanks for a honest, hardworking crew.
When he was at the Deck Eight level, immediately over where Conners was holding Samantha hostage, he said a short prayer and ever so cautiously continued to lower his conveyance. The sun was to his advantage, brilliantly shining through the balcony doors into the cabin. He inched down. There he was...Conners, himself, facing Marsha, just a smidgen to the right, with her back to Led.
Conners was engrossed with whatever he was saying to Marsha and, with the sunshine in his face, didn’t or couldn’t notice Led hanging suspended in mid- air off the balcony. Led balanced his body as best he could and raised the rifle to his shoulder. He aimed. He fired. He fell off the bench of the window washer into the open blue waters of the Caribbean Sea.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Caribbean Star sailed away with all hands on deck, less a few specific ex-guests who would be detained for further scrutiny by the Grand Cayman legal authorities, aka: Constable Brookstone and company. One of them sported an arm in a sling due to a bullet piercing his shoulder. Their accommodations wouldn’t rival the usual high standards of the island paradise, not for a very, very long time, for these unwilling guests of Her Majesty’s government.
Lucky’s friends, George and Elaine Cromwell, returned to enjoy their home, once again. This time without any overhanging dread that they would have their social standing maligned. The local realtor who had been in cahoots with the whole blackmail scheme was fingered by Marsha Stewart. Thus proving, once again, that there is no honor among thieves.
The mood on the ship remained more somber than usual. It wasn’t living up to its reputation as a party ship, at least for the moment. Led had been rescued by the tender boat crew who had whistled and applauded his not so gracious performance of a swan dive from Deck Seven.
He and Samantha had, for obvious reasons, become close. Led didn’t win over his damsel in distress by being a Knight in shining armor, but Samantha wasn’t going to quibble. She saw her Knight, Led, rescue her from his perilous perch standing on the bench seat of the window washer trapeze. That won her heart.
Samantha queried, “So, Led, how did you not know it was Marsha, or Yolanda, or whoever they were? I still get confused when I try to work through this whole sham?”
“Well, I waited for the two of them to come out of the women’s changing room, OK? They already had on their diving and snorkeling gear, including masks. I remember laughing at them. They looked like twin Martians. Now that I think about it, neither of them said anything during our getting underway with the water stuff. So, there wasn’t any reason to presume that they weren’t who I originally thought they were.
“When I tried to revive the one who I thought was Marsha, first my mask had been fogged over so I took it off. Then, the salt in the sea water blurred my vision when I brought her body back on shore. Add to that all the confusion when the local police and EMTs arrived on the scene and got involved. I was literally pushed aside. Then, she, Marsha, I mean, Yolanda, was rushed off in the ambulance. That’s it, Samantha. Sounds weird, I know, but it’s the truth.”
“Poor Yolanda. I think she may have been tricked by Marsha into switching ID’s by telling her that she really liked you and wanted to be close to you. Competition among some women can be fierce at times. Now, of course, we know that there was a much more sinister plan afoot. She decided that a last minute switch from snorkeling to diving with you would solve her problems. Yolanda's decision to accept the switch carried a fatal consequence for her. Very sad.”
“But why?” Led was all ears, now.
“When I was being held hostage in my cabin, Wilbur said, in a moment of weakness, that Marsha had shared with Yolanda about the packages. A big mistake. So, she had Wilbur, already in Asian makeup for that meeting in the building, get a boat and shoot Yolanda, telling him to ditch the rifle afterwards. That’s the real reason that she switched the snorkeling for diving. There was no shame with Marsha. She even took pictures of herself as a princess of the pavement as a blackmail ploy. She orchestrated the whole plot that made a buffoon out of that poor guy, Randy Barrow.”
“Wow! That took some guts, I’d say. Low self- esteem, I guess,” Led sat back and practiced his school of psychoanalysis.
“You know that Conners had managed to smuggle the rife onto the ship in case of a double cross by the Asian Triad, or trio, or something like that. That’s what it sounded like to me. My head wasn’t in the best of places, so I might have not understood their plan completely.”
“Sounds rational to me. Yes, I knew that about the rifle. I explained to the Chief Inspector how Conners got the rifle on board in the first place. Sanjay was not a happy camper that I had upped him one on that.”
“And, how did Conners manage to get a rifle onto a cruise ship with security in place, Led?”
“The same way I do...did...with my utility knife. I place it under an obvious and large metal belt buckle to set off the alarm on purpose. Then, when they wand you they see the metal and think they found the culprit that set off the security alarm. Sanjay told me that Conners had a bulky case which set off the alarm. When he opened it, there was an old fashion metal typewriter in the case. He wanded it and it set off the alarm, so he passed it through, not realizing that Conners had a disassembled rifle hidden in the lid over the typewriter.”
“Hmmm, I don’t like to hear that. What kind of security is that supposed to be to protect us unsuspecting guests?” Samantha thought seriously about putting that little gem into her cruise critique story.
“Well, I think that trick has faded into history, now. I promised the Chief Inspector that I wouldn’t pull that stunt anymore. He also assured me that he wouldn’t ever be fooled by that trick again, thanks to my confession.” Led blushed. Not because of his confession to Sanjay Mehta, but because Samantha was kissing him firmly on the lips.
Lucky, Captain Hurley and Sanjay Mehta were sipping on cups of Twinings lemon with ginger tea in the Captain’s quarters. Smiles of relief all around.
“I never want another weekend cruise like this one ever again,” quipped Peggy Hunte
r. “Thanks to you, Father Lucky, for bringing along Led as your cruise companion. Sanjay mentioned that he knew you and Led from a prior cruise and that cruise turned out to be a disastrous adventure, also. I’m not sure if I like that kind of report or not,” she grinned as she picked her cup up for another sip.
“Well, I always hope that we are more help than hindrance, Captain. That’s my reason to be on a cruise, right? To help people?” Lucky offered his defense.
“We’re just teasing, Father,” Sanjay intervened. “I realize Led can be a handful at times, but he has always more than proven his worth to our operation. Indeed, he went way over the edge this time,” Sanjay said this with a chuckle. “He sure proved his marksmanship, but I’m afraid he only received three’s out of five’s from the crew for his swan dive performance.” The tea was concluded when the Captain received the call that the harbor pilot was coming aboard for the docking of the ship.
“Please sail with us anytime, Father Lucky. You are always most welcome on any ship I’m the captain of. And, don’t forget to bring Led along. It just wouldn’t be the same without both, Lucky and Led. Now, I need to nudge this ship into her berth.”
“Aye, aye. That goes the same for me, Father Lucky. I always know that there will be quite an adventure when you and Led are aboard any cruise with me as the Chief Inspector. And, now, I need to meet with our two CIA agents.” With handshakes, all went their merry ways.
There still remained some unfinished business to be sorted out. Yep, we still had those two boxes of candy...chocolate covered cherries...to be dealt with.
CIA agents Cartwright and Carrington continued to fuss and fume over the real or facetious value of the chocolate covered cherries. Whatever, they were looking for sensitive high tech proprietary material stolen from a computer subcontractor for the United States DOD, Department of Defense, not candy.
All the while the rescue operation was proceeding Benny Tallman and Jiggers Malone were doing what they usually did best...playing cards and boozing it up in their cabin. They had slipped under the investigative radar this whole time. Sort of forgotten in the shuffle of the Chief Inspector’s attempt to fry bigger fish, Jiggers and Benny awaited their opportunity.
The occasion did arrive just an hour before the ship was to pull into its home port berth for the end of the weekend cruise. And, the opportunity presented itself in a similar fashion as did the Randy Barrow open cabin door incident. Room attendants are required by cruise line policy to keep the cabin door ajar whenever one of them is working inside the room. Occasionally, there is a need for some cleaning product or other item from the room attendant’s storeroom and by necessity he leaves the room unattended when he goes to fetch the item.
Jiggers and Benny had positioned themselves in the elevator lobby area where they could observe the goings on with the CIA agents’ room. Cartwright and Carrington had gone off to a meeting to brief Chief Inspector Mehta and they had placed the CLEAN MY ROOM card in the door key slot. A message brilliantly signaling to our two observers who awaited the arrival of the dutiful room attendant. As hoped for, the attendant did arrive and after a few minutes, he, indeed, left the room, with the door ajar, to go to his storeroom for whatever he was missing on his cart.
They took a peek down the hall to make sure the room attendant was out of sight in the storeroom. With exaggerated stealth, they entered the agents’ room. They began their search for a particular item, actually, two items: both being boxes of candy. And, bingo, there they were; sitting right on top of the dressing table. Lo and behold, two boxes of chocolate covered cherries.
“There they are, Jiggers,” Benny said with excitement. “I can’t believe that those guys are so stupid and didn’t hide these away.”
“Me neither, Benny,” Jiggers said as he picked up the boxes and they exited the room in a flash.
“I’m sure glad that no one thought of eating this candy, Benny.”
“Why’s that, Jiggers?” Benny, playing the straight man to the comedian, knew full well the answer before he asked.
“Cause they sure would have gotten an awfully terrible upset stomach from the computer chips planted inside the cherries.”
“According to my way of reading the calendar, Led, it’s been almost three weeks since we had that long, hot farewell at the port right after clearing immigration,” Samantha purred into her iPhone.
“Yeah, I remember. It was over 90 degrees in Miami,” he teased. “Hey, I’ll drive down this weekend, that’s a promise. I had to get my life straightened around here first. I’m not a man of leisure, you know. I work for a living, work hard.” Led was struggling to maintain his macho standing.
“I know. It’s just that I miss you, already. My work isn’t enough, anymore.”
Led had read the story in the Deco Beach Weekly that Samantha mailed to him. Mercifully, she didn’t include any mention of his knife under the belt buckle trick to get through ship’s security. Thank you, Samantha, Led thought; I might want to go back on that promise to Inspector Mehta on some future cruise.
“So, how did your cruise critique article go over with your new boss, the new editor of the Deco Beach Weekly?”
“Oh, Rex? Super. He was very cool about the whole competitive thing; said he didn’t have the foggiest idea of what to critique. He seems to have developed SMS, the selective memory syndrome when it comes to all the details of the cruise.” Samantha was succumbing to a sudden case of verbal diarrhea; Led listened; he didn’t mind, he could listen to the sound of Samantha’s voice forever...it was music to his ears.
”Yeah, old Rex. He’s become a real sweetheart; transferred me from the Travel section to lead reporter for the front page. He’s a pushover. When he gets on my nerves, I drive him over to his favorite watering hole, the Big Apple Martini bar, and buy him a large brandy snifter glass filled with Grand Marnier. A great mix of the social classes, too. Would you believe, I even saw those two CIA agents in there last week?”
THE END
CRUISE TO CRITIQUE
DPR
AUTHOR'S BIO
David P. Remy was born in Iowa a few months before the Pearl Harbor "incident" as those affairs are referred to in today's parlance. He attempted to become educated in Dubuque, IA, Detroit, MI, Washington, D. C., South Orange, NJ and New Orleans, LA. It took a long time in many halls of higher education. Finally, a little of it stuck. He felt most success with his in depth study of Mardi Gras and restaurants in the Crescent City...the Big Easy.
Up to this time of writing, he's been a pastor, an educator, a drug and alcohol counselor and tucked in the middle of forty-seven years of ministry, he served twenty short ones in the U. S. Navy as a chapain to our courageous Sailors and a "Padre" to our valiant Marines. He proudly adds, "Veteran" to his bio. Late in his life game, he appends "Author" to his resume. He will allow the reader to determine the validity of that claim.
CRUISE TO CRITIQUE is his fifth novel in the LUCKY & LED CRUISE SHIP MYSTERY series. In respect to the subject matter, a journalist writing a newspaper critique, he spent more time making sure the grammar, spelling and all things literary were in good order.
Retired, he maintains his residence in the state of Florida where, it seems, everyone would like to live, at least during the winter months. He continues his ministry in the local parish churches, military chapels and...his favorite...as a cruise ship chaplain.
He is also the author of IN LOVING PURSUIT, a love story, set in the 1960's, told in the memoir genre. IN LOVING PURSUIT as well as the LUCKY & LED CRUISE SHIP MYSTERY series are available as downloads to your E-Reader device.
Thanks for selecting this or his other novels to spend your leisure time. Enjoy!
To contact the author, please place the title of the novel in the email subject line and send your email to:
david05remy@hotmail.com
Table of Contents
Title page
Copyright
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PERSONAL NOTES
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
AUTHOR'S BIO