Murder at Sea of Passenger X Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #5 (Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery Series)

by Anna Celeste Burke

  “It has to be about the jewelry thefts, Jack. What other reason could Jake Nugent have had for carrying around a copy of a stolen necklace?”

  “I suppose Jake Nugent could have grabbed that necklace from the brunette you saw wearing it, believing it was real. He’s not much of a jewel thief if he couldn’t spot a fake, though.”

  “If my memory serves me correctly, the necklace she wore looked real although I wouldn’t say that about her other assets. Maybe this is about insurance fraud, and she’s in on it. Deception apparently doesn’t bother her. That could extend to duping her insurance company as well as many of the eligible men on board this ship.”

  Jack stopped walking and cocked his head to one side. He was amused but feigned mock surprise. “Why, Georgie, that sounds almost catty. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were jealous of our mystery woman.”

  “Don’t call her a mystery woman. That’s me, remember? I’m not jealous. That doesn’t mean I’m happy about the fact that this case has you on the hunt for a cool blond and a hot brunette.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me. I am forever immune to the charms of other women, one-week-wife.” He put my arm back through his and began walking again. “Nor do I share a history with either of them like you do with the charming Chef Gerard who seems quite taken with you.”

  “Now who sounds jealous? He’s like a brother, Jack. I’m not sure I’m his type if you get my drift.”

  “Well, I’m not as convinced about that as you are.”

  “Oh, stop it! Your one-week-wife is mad about you. Isn’t that obvious?” We paused, and I used my wifely ways to make him believe me. We could hear squeals coming from somewhere in the distance, but we were alone where we stood wrapped in each other’s arms. A ping from my phone broke the spell.

  “Max,” I said as I looked at the message that went with that ping. “His halo is out. He’s delighted to hear we’re carrying out, and I quote, ‘a thorough investigation with the high degree of discretion necessary to ensure guests have a Marvelous Marley World experience even under such unhappy circumstances.’ A halo and hooey! Max is on top of his game, isn’t he?”

  “Yep, and polishing his media pitch, I see.”

  “Yeah, some version of it. Let’s hope Max holds it together even if this doesn’t get wrapped up neatly with a pretty bow on it by the time we meet him in Tahiti.”

  “Even if Max’s horns come out and he has that tantrum that takes him to the center of the earth, I’ll be happy to turn this whole mess over to a better-equipped constabulary. They’ll have proper investigative facilities and resources at their disposal. In Tahiti, we’ll get the evidence we have collected to a lab along with the body. A more formal autopsy could clarify what the killer used as a murder weapon. Our smart and resourceful ship’s doctor used her x-ray machine to scan the wounds that killed Nugent. A very sharp-edged blade of some kind. Maybe seven inches in length—longer and not as straight as that boning knife you use all the time. The killer jammed him hard, grazing a rib before piercing his lung. I’m surprised that blade tip didn’t break off when it hit the bone. The assailant slashed the artery in his neck too once Nugent hit the ground. That’s what killed him.”

  “That sounds like a fillet knife. Fillet knives are often a little longer than boning knives, with a sharp, pointy, curved blade. Flexible, too, so it could have bent rather than breaking when it nicked that bone. There must be quite a few in the kitchens on this ship. Not that it's still around,” I commented as I made a little flicking motion with my hand as though tossing an imaginary knife overboard.

  “You’re right. It’s not likely to be there now. It would have been wise for the killer to throw it overboard as he ran away. Maybe that security video footage caught a glimpse of a knife. I’ll check for that, too.”

  “Gerard and his staff might at least be able to tell you if there’s one missing. Was the woman who hollered for the ship’s steward able to describe the third man?”

  “Not very well. Wendy Cutler’s still emphatic that the man who went into the water was pushed overboard by two other men. The steward, David Engels, was at the rail seconds after Wendy Cutler hollered for help. By then, the man was already over the rail and falling so too late to see any pushing and shoving. He could see a second man lying motionless on the deck, and a third man standing near the rails. Engels described the third man as medium height and build, dark hair, partly covered by a hood attached to a dark-colored sweatshirt or baggy jacket of some kind. Rather nondescript like the description the Cutler woman gave us. She claims there was lettering on that shirt—a sports team logo or like the sweatshirts and windbreakers you can buy on board with the Marvelous Marley World corporate logo on them.”

  “The dead guy was wearing something like that, too, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes, but she and the steward are confident they were looking at the third man since the second man was already down by then.”

  “Jewel thieves all dressed alike, imagine that. It sure didn’t do much to build team spirit, did it? If they wanted to blend in with other passengers, wearing Marvelous Marley World gear couldn’t hurt,” I said. “Good camouflage for the killer after fleeing that scene.”

  “We do have one other bit of information about him. When Wendy Cutler started shouting for help, the third man glanced up at her she says he was wearing glasses. Our dead man wasn’t wearing glasses, as you know.”

  “Unfortunately, I do, having seen Jake Nugent up close. Now I understand why you had Bill Tate take her into protective custody. If Wendy Cutler saw the killer that means he must have seen her, too.”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so,” Jack sighed. “We’re doing all we can to keep her safe until we return to Tahiti. Max better do something nice for her once we get her ashore. Her dream cruise has turned into a nightmare. They’ve stashed her in the best available unoccupied cabin on the ship. That upgrade’s small compensation for what she witnessed this morning and having to finish the cruise in confinement with a security detail on guard around the clock.”

  “No kidding.” I could have said something about our honeymoon not ending as planned, either. Jack was worried, so I restrained myself. Besides, I had no reason to complain. Being married to the man of my dreams, even under the current circumstances, was beyond anything I could have imagined before meeting Jack. I squeezed the arm I held, trying to reassure him.

  “A left-handed, dark-haired man wearing glasses with access to a fillet knife. That’s progress, Jack. You should get one of the sketch artists on board who does those souvenir portraits for guests to do a drawing based on input from Wendy Cutler and David Engels. That might get you more detail about the third man’s appearance. Maybe the second screamer Gerard heard can help, too, if you can find her.”

  “Georgie, that’s a terrific idea about the sketch artist! Bill has to find the second woman Gerard heard screaming before we can ask for her help. Gerard didn't have much to go on, though, and no one else has come forward other than Wendy Cutler. They’re going to make another request for help when they update passengers shortly. Not that there’s much new to share yet.”

  “What about the follow up that Bill and Adam did with the passengers involved in that incident report filed about two drunks fighting it out the night before last? Adam said the occupant of the cabin was a woman. If that incident is connected to the mess today, maybe she knows something about what happened.” As I paused for Jack to answer, I suddenly heard the pounding of feet behind us. When I turned to look over my shoulder, a large parrot—Perroquet himself—was barreling toward us.

  “Good grief! Don’t look now, but Perroquet is heading our way. At least that ridiculous parrot has a French name,” I added as I turned back around and pulled Jack with me closer to the rail. That made more room for Perroquet to pass. “Perroquet just means parrot, so not much of a stretch for Max and his Marvelous Marley World ‘Marveleers.’ With all that marveling, you’d think…”

  The sudden i
mpact ended my sentence. It knocked the air out of my lungs and sent me sprawling. I felt like a bird in flight and fought to find my feet. My heart pounded as a second blow seemed to propel me higher and closer to the rail. I kicked out, making contact as I fell. Then, someone grabbed me. Human arms encircled me as I heard someone shout, “Stop!” I struggled and tried to kick again, but it was no use. The memory of that old, futile act to resist on the beach so long ago engulfed me in a wave of dread.

  “Not again,” I murmured.

  7 Midnight Casanova

  “Georgie, it’s okay! It’s me,” Jack’s lips brushed my ear as he spoke those words. “You’re safe. Please don’t kick me. Your one-week-husband is no spring chicken. Stop kicking!”

  He loosened his grip a little and I spun around, gazed up into his dark brown eyes, and then threw myself against his chest. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Not me, but that brute who slammed into us was hobbling when he took off. Good aim! The padding in his costume didn't extend to his knees. I whacked him on the back with a deck chair, and he hardly flinched. That kick you landed when he went for you a second time hurt him.”

  “A lucky blow, I assure you. My brothers always told me to aim below the belt.” After the terror on the beach in Corsario Cove, I had taken a self-defense course and learned to put my brothers’ advice into practice. Despite my panic, the instinct to fight had conjured up those old moves. “Serves that feathered freak right. Sorry I didn’t get us out of the way in time to avoid a collision.”

  “That was no accident, Georgie.” Jack clutched me in an embrace.

  “Word sure got out fast about how much I detest Perroquet. Where’s Catmmando Tom when you need him?” Jack held me tighter. He must have sensed how close I was to tears by the quiver in my voice.

  “I should never have let you get involved in this trouble,” he whispered. A small crowd had gathered, and Jack was trying not to let them overhear us.

  “What happened?” a teenaged passenger asked.

  “That big parrot ran into her. Then they had a fight,” a member of the crowd replied.

  “You mean Perroquet?”

  “Yeah, that one.”

  “Is she all right?” someone else asked.

  “Aw come on. You know the lady's all right. She’s just part of the show,” replied the person who claimed to have witnessed the incident. “That guy with her hit Perroquet with a chair and then she kicked that bird. After that, Perroquet took off with these guys chasing him. It was awesome.”

  “No way! I missed it. Will they do it again?”

  “Show’s over, folks,” Jack said.

  “Wow, you were right. It was a show. There must be a new Perroquet movie coming out,” the enthusiastic teen said, buzzing with delight.

  “They don’t look like bad guys, but if Perroquet was trying to stop them, they must have been up to something.” There was more discussion as the small group disbursed, but the conversation was lost amid laughter as they departed.

  “Are you sure you're okay?” Maggie cried out as she hurried toward us, dodging passengers as the last members of that gathering drifted away. As she approached, I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of Paolo, without his chef’s hat, and heading away from us. When I looked more closely, I couldn’t see him.

  “Better than if I’d gone over the side of the ship from here,” I quipped. “I might be in worse shape too if I’d hit the deck when that bird slammed into me. Jack must have grabbed me before that could happen.”

  “You must not have been so lucky, huh, Jack?” she asked. “Or did you get those from punching that parrot?” Maggie pointed to the knuckles on Jack’s right hand that had scrapes on them. “You must have hit your head too,” she added. A trickle of blood was slowly making its way down the right side of his face.

  “Nothing major. When I tried to catch myself before I hit the ground, I missed the first deck chair and scraped my knuckles. My head, too, I guess. Don’t worry, you two. My tetanus shot is up to date.” The doctor handed Jack a wipe of some kind, and he swiped at the blood on his face.

  “What was it, Jack, if it wasn’t an accident?” I asked. I took a second wipe from the doctor and carefully cleaned the knuckles on his hand. Those tears were threatening to appear again. How close had my one-week-husband and I come to having one of the shortest marriages on record? I wondered.

  “Another Marvelous Marley World character has gone rogue. Most likely intent on delivering a message for us to get out of the way and quit snooping. We must be getting closer to discovering what’s going on for someone to take that risk. A man who’s already killed two people probably isn't thinking too rationally. A couple of Bill’s guys are after him. I doubt he can get far with that bum knee you gave him.”

  “Being whacked with a deck chair couldn’t have felt good either. What an idiotic idea to come after us in that parrot get up. It can’t be that easy to move, even uninjured, dressed like that and wearing those big, floppy feet!”

  “You’d both better follow me and let me check out that bump on your head, Jack. Just in case. Bill Tate messaged me that he wants us to meet him there, anyway.”

  “She’s right, Jack. Let’s go.” Jack just nodded as we followed Maggie. When I moved, I got a quick reminder that I was no spring chicken, either. Somewhere in the fracas, I must have twisted awkwardly or worked a few muscles that hadn’t been put to the test lately. A sharp pain shot up my leg and into my back. “I could use an aspirin if you don’t mind, Doc.”

  “No problem. It’s the least I can do,” Maggie replied. Fortunately, we only had a short distance to walk before we arrived at an elevator that could take us below to the infirmary.

  As we waited for that elevator, a seabird cried while soaring above us. A gust of air carried a bit of salty spray with it. As the sun moved closer to the horizon, it was taking on that golden hue like the late afternoon sun in California. Normally, that would have been pleasurable. Now it stood in stark contrast to Jack’s words. A killer was on the loose and still intent on wreaking havoc, presuming that’s who had launched the parrot attack. Time was running out, if it wasn’t already too late for Passenger X as Jack’s comment about two murders implied.

  “Maggie, was that Paolo I saw in the crowd?”

  “Yes, it was. When I got the call that there was trouble up on deck, Paolo and I were in the infirmary. He’d dropped by to give us a sample of his hair so we could rule him out as the owner of the strands we've taken into evidence.”

  “How’d that happen?” Jack asked.

  “Bill asked him to do it and he agreed.”

  “Does that mean he knows about the murder?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so. Paolo said he wasn’t sure why Bill wanted it, but he had nothing to hide and was ‘happy to be of service.’ Even gave me one of those snappy little bows he does. No peroxide, by the way.”

  When we arrived at the infirmary minutes later, Bill Tate was there. Maggie brought me a couple of aspirin and a glass of water. Then she checked that scrape on Jack's head before handing him aspirin and water, too.

  “Hey, what about me?” In a corner, a half-man-half-bird sat with a dejected look on his face. On the floor, not too far from where he was cuffed to a chair, the top half of his costume gaped at us with huge vacant eyes above an enormous beak. I had a strong urge to start kicking again.

  “Meet Justin Michelson, who’s in need of some medical attention. He says you took out his knee cap Georgie, as though that was a bad thing.” Justin’s head snapped up, and he glared at Bill. Jack took a step toward him, and the young man shrank back.

  “He’s lucky I didn’t get to him sooner, or he’d be swimming for it. That’s assuming all that padding in his bird suit would have broken his fall when he hit the water from 120 feet up. My wife wouldn’t have had that going for her if you’d pushed her overboard as you tried to do, birdbrain.”

  “No way, Man. That’s not what happened. Nobody told me… I mean, I’d never
do that.” Justin might have had more to say, but Jack took another step toward him, and the squawking stopped.

  “How do you like that, Jack? Justin is changing his story already,” Bill said. “He told us he grabbed that suit on a whim and was just out for a lark. Running into you was a terrible accident, right, Justin?” Justin didn’t make eye contact but nodded. Bill turned to us and spoke before Justin could say a word.

  “We got a report a little while ago that a costume last seen in a rehearsal area near the Sea Nymph stage was missing. No one saw anyone take it, so they figured a stagehand had returned it to the costume room below. When it wasn’t there, they reported it stolen.”

  “Ow! I need some help here. Your wife almost broke my leg, Mister.”

  “Shut up and sit still, so I don’t cut you,” Maggie snapped, holding up a pair of scissors. She must have yanked his leg a moment before when she removed the second oversized parrot foot that went with the bottom part of his costume. That left Justin's legs covered in a pair of tights. Rolling a chair close, she began cutting away the material around his knee.

  “I was trying to keep you from shoving me overboard, like you did to that man this morning, Justin. It’s not Mister, by the way, it’s Detective,” I said in an indignant tone.

  Justin’s eyes widened when he heard the word detective tagged on at the end of my accusation about shoving someone off the ship. “Whoa, you can’t pin that on me. I was sound asleep when that guy went over the side. I heard somebody pushed him, but it wasn’t me, uh, Detective.”

  “I hope you can prove it. We have a witness, and you fit her description of the guy who did it pretty well,” Jack said in a voice at least as angry as mine. Jack was right! My heart rate sped up as I scanned the young man more carefully.