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

by Anna Celeste Burke

  “Dark hair, dark eyes, a t-shirt rather than a baggy sweatshirt, but Jack, he’s even wearing glasses. Justin must be the third man!” I found it hard to believe, looking at the disheveled, belligerent 20-something slouching in his chair.

  “Our witness is checking out his passenger photo as we speak. We already have a positive I.D. from the steward who filed that incident report. Meet one of the two men involved in that drunken brawl on Deck 6,” Bill commented in a rather offhand manner.

  “So, what? That guy tried to stiff me for drinks. That doesn’t mean I shoved anyone overboard.”

  “Well, it does put you near where the trouble occurred this morning. I guess we now know who paid the bar tab. Have you been able to make any connection between him and our dead man in the morgue?”

  “Morgue? Dead man? Are you talking about the guy that went into the water or another one? Ouch! That hurts, Doc!”

  “Sorry, but if you keep moving, I can’t examine your knee properly.” Maggie had cut the tights off both legs and was gingerly checking his knees. “I can take an x-ray to be sure. At this point, I believe our Perroquet impersonator is going to have some ugly bruises, but nothing feels out of place or broken. There’s no difference when I compare the two knees, except that the one you kicked is a bit sore and starting to swell.” I don’t think Justin was paying much attention to her words or I’m sure he would have objected to that “a bit sore” part of her diagnosis. Dead man and morgue still seemed to have his attention.

  “What is this? The steward can tell you that the guy with me wasn’t dead. We had a few drinks that I charged to my account since Martin didn’t have his I.D. with him. More than a few. I’ll admit we were pretty wasted. Martin said he had cash in his cabin, but the first cabin he took me to wasn’t even his. Then he says he's lost. I thought the loser was jerking me around and told him to stop it or I’d report him to the ship’s crew. That’s when he took a swing at me. I wrestled him to the ground and was about to help myself to a ring he had in his shirt pocket when that steward broke it up.”

  “Ring?” I asked. “What kind of a ring?”

  “An engagement ring for his girlfriend. The reason he brought her on this cruise was so he could propose. The drinks were to work up his courage to do it.”

  “At that hour? Did you believe that? What was he—a midnight Casanova?” I blurted that out before I could stop myself.

  “I didn’t say I believed it. In fact, it sounded like a crock to me. That's why I decided to take the ring—just until he paid me the money he owed me. Before I could do it, that busybody steward butted in and pulled me off him. Yesterday, when I went to the cabin number he gave to the steward, this woman answered. I figured I found his girlfriend, but she acted like she didn’t know who Martin Santo was or what the heck I was talking about when I brought up the engagement ring, so I gave up.”

  “I’ve only had a chance to glance at the items in the report you gave me about the stolen jewelry, but there was an engagement ring on that list as I recall,” Jack commented.

  “Yes. One of the first pieces that disappeared soon after we left Papeete. The woman who reported it missing didn’t even call it theft. She thought it slipped off her finger in the spa or pool area and called lost and found. It was only after the other thefts that we added it to the list.”

  “Stolen jewelry? Dead guys? I need a lawyer, don’t I?” Justin asked.

  “Unless you want to give up the lame story you told me about going on a spree in that Perroquet costume like a frat boy on spring break. What were you really doing?” Bill asked. Justin looked at Bill then at Jack and back to Bill, avoiding me altogether.

  “The lady paid me to do it—the one in the cabin who said she didn’t know Martin Santo. She tracked me down today at that bar where Martin and I met. Then she asked me if I knew where he was. I told her I had no clue. That made her cry. Then she showed me that ring. It turns out, they got engaged after all, but she was too upset to tell me about it when I knocked on her door earlier. That's because Martin had ditched her for some other woman—a rich, married one.” His eyes bored into me as he spoke. “I woulda’ done it for nothing, Jezebel or Georgie or whoever you are.”

  “Me? Jezebel?” I gasped.

  “Yeah. That’s what she called you when we watched you walking along, laughing and talking with that man.”

  “What man?” I asked, incredulous.

  “That chef with the high hat,” he replied. “Must be lots of men if you can’t even figure out who I mean.”

  “I’m on my honeymoon, Justin!”

  “I know that—another reason you suck. I would have done you a huge favor if your wife had gone overboard when I plowed into her.” I grabbed Jack’s arm as he lunged toward the young idiot. Jack stopped, of course, and in a calm, steady voice said,

  “You’ve been played for a fool, Justin. Your damsel in distress is no victim. Didn’t you hear what we just said about that ring being on a list of stolen jewelry?” Justin blinked a couple of times before some of the dots in his head must have suddenly connected to create a different picture. “Here's more for you to consider. If you didn’t push that passenger overboard and you didn’t kill the guy lying in the morgue, that means there’s still a killer running around on this ship. The murderer and his girlfriend are setting you up as a patsy to take the fall for all the trouble on board. Or you’re next on the hit list since you got a good look at Martin and his girlfriend.”

  “I’d listen to Jack. It’s no fun being framed or targeted for murder. I’m speaking from experience.” Confusion reigned on the young dolt’s face. “What was the woman’s name?” I asked in a softer tone. I wasn’t yet able to feel sorry for him, but I could understand the fear that must be surging through his addled brain.

  “Tina,” he said. “That’s all I know. She didn’t give me her last name. She was so upset, I decided to walk back to that cabin with her. The parrot costume was already in there. I didn’t steal it from the rehearsal room, she did.”

  “Lucky for you, if that’s true. That costume costs a few thousand dollars—more if it’s tricked out with some electronics,” I said. “Clearly a felony, right Jack?”

  “Oh yes, and that’s before you add assault charges. Attempted murder, too, if our friend here meant it when he said you should have gone over the rails.”

  “That’s not what I said. All Tina paid me to do was teach you a lesson about minding your own business and staying away from men who aren't yours. I got into that costume and waited until someone called her and told us where you were. I was having second thoughts, but then she started crying again, so I tore off and did it.”

  “You have the cabin number Martin Santo gave the steward who broke up the fight. Is the occupant of the cabin named Tina?” I asked Bill.

  “Tina Marston,” Bill answered after pulling up information about that cabin. “Sounds like we need to have another talk with her. While you patch him up, Maggie, I’m going to get that sketch artist to come down here as soon as Wendy Cutler and David Engels have finished describing the man they saw. Maybe with a drawing based on Justin's description, we can identify Martin Santo and figure out if he's the man overboard, since his name’s not on the passenger manifest. I’d hate to believe we have two unidentified passengers on this ship—or did—since at least one of them is swimming with the fishes.”

  I sucked in a breath of air. There was no humor in that reference to Passenger X in the past tense. Bill must believe Passenger X was dead.

  “There could be two, though, Bill. Since we still don’t know who helped Jake Nugent push Passenger X overboard, why not nominate Martin Santo for that role, too?” I asked.

  “Why not? Maybe this ship is crawling with stowaways!” Bill responded. “I admit, it’s hard to believe Justin’s the third man. Just in case, I’ll find out what Wendy Cutler and David Engels say about it after checking out Justin's passenger photo.” I had to agree that Justin hardly fit the part of a skilled slash
er. As he reached out for the aspirin Maggie offered him, I knew for sure.

  “Not our slasher,” I muttered as Justin reached for it with his right hand. Jack heard me and nodded in agreement. My spirits took a nosedive for a moment, forcing me to realize how disappointed I was that the wretch in that Perroquet costume had not been the ruthless “third man.” Was it Martin Santo? Was he the one who had called Tina and given her the signal to turn Justin loose in that stupid outfit? Did Tina Marston know who he was and how to find him?

  8 Patty, Patsy—Whatever

  Jack and I waited for Bill to round up Tina. When they got to her cabin, minutes later, there was no sign of her. Surprise, surprise! She must have been intelligent enough to realize any guy willing to fall for her jilted female routine wasn’t too bright. I doubt she had counted on his ability to elude shipboard authorities, even if he’d been able to use the escape route she suggested. Hobbling, and with security on his heels, he hadn’t removed that stolen costume and ditched it overboard as she had instructed him to do.

  There was also no indication that Martin Santo or any other man had been in Tina’s cabin. Her getaway was much more successful than Perroquet’s. She had cleared out her stateroom and then invited housekeeping to clean it. The only good news, apart from the fact that I was still shipboard, was that the sharp-eyed doctor had spotted another of those blond hairs. Not in Tina’s cabin but elsewhere.

  She found this one stuck to a Velcro flap exposed as Justin sat there wearing only the bottom half of that costume. A quick comparison with the two collected earlier from Jake Nugent’s body led Maggie to conclude it was probably a match.

  “Without better equipment, it’s impossible to be sure,” Maggie had cautioned us. Still, I felt buoyed by the prospect that we had found another tangible link to a person involved in more than one of the incidents that had occurred today. That, along with Justin’s claim that he had seen Tina in possession of the stolen engagement ring, also tied the events to the jewelry thefts.

  “Was the woman who paid you to run her errand a blond?” Jack asked Justin after Maggie found that hair. The photo Bill had obtained from Tina's profile portrayed her as an attractive brunette.

  “Nah, Tina’s a brunette, with a cute smile and a great body from working out. That Martin Santo’s a crazy man to ditch her. I guess he thought he was going to get a woman with money…”

  “Are you going back to that again?” Jack asked.

  “A box of rocks,” Maggie murmured under her breath.

  As in “dumber than,” I presumed without asking. “Any reason we can’t turn Justin around to face the wall while we make him sit in the corner?” I asked.

  “What difference is it going to make to a box of rocks?” Maggie retorted.

  “Is this Tina?” Bill asked, pulling up a picture on his phone of the woman from the passenger roster named Tina Marston.

  Justin had been slouching in his seat again. When he saw that picture, he became excited and tried to stand. “Yeah, that’s her!” A reaction followed that he surely should have anticipated.

  “Ow, ow, ow!” He shouted as his bum knee protested and the cuffs on one arm yanked him back like a dog that had gone too far on its chain. When the rebound slung him back into his seat, awkwardly, he yelped again.

  “Noisy for a box of rocks,” Bill said as the screen on his cell phone went dark. “If it’s all right with you, Maggie, I’m going to move him out of here and into the brig.”

  “No problem. I’ll wrap that knee for Justin. I’ll check on him again later after he’s had dinner.”

  Who knew? A brig and a morgue on a luxurious cruise liner, I thought.

  “That’s assuming he can eat given how much pain he’s in,” Jack added with a smirk on his face.

  “I can eat,” Justin retorted. “Not that I like being locked up in a cage like uh, uh…” He shut up after looking at the remnants of the big, padded, feathered parrot suit he was still wearing.

  “Can you get our jailbird a change of clothes, Bill?” Jack asked.

  “Sure. You might find this interesting, Jack. It was in a drawer in his cabin.” Bill handed Jack a clear plastic bag that contained a sweatshirt with the Marvelous Marley World logo and slogan on it:

  "It’s a marvelous world…a Marvelous Marley World!" The dark color certainly fit the description of the one given by the eyewitnesses who had caught a glimpse of the slasher on Deck 6. “Wendy Cutler said there was some kind of writing on the shirt the third man was wearing this morning before he took off, but still says she can’t be certain what it said. I showed her pictures of Justin. She doesn’t think he’s the man she saw running away after killing Jake Nugent, but she wants to take a closer look at him, in person.”

  “Hey, wait a second. I already told you I was sleeping this morning when that Oscar alarm went off. That’s not my shirt, either! I have one, but it’s got Catmmando Tom on it. Can you bring me that one and a pair of sweatpants so I can get out of this parrot outfit?”

  “Please,” I added. Justin shot daggers at me before speaking.

  “Please,” he said, shaking his head in disgust.

  “I suppose you’re going to tell me this isn’t yours, either, even though we found it in your cabin.” Bill held up what appeared to me to be a diamond tennis bracelet. It was in another plastic bag, much smaller than the first one holding that sweatshirt. “Another item originally reported to lost and found and now on the list of stolen jewelry,” Bill said as he handed that bag to Jack.

  “Those are real diamonds, Jack.” I peered at the bracelet as he turned that bag over and then flattened the bag out on the palm of his hand. “White gold, too. Not high end, but not cheap costume jewelry like that necklace Jake Nugent had on him.”

  “My wife has a good eye for shiny things,” Jack said, winking. Despite that wink, I could tell he was worn out. Justin had his mouth open, ready to squawk again. I jumped back in with a question before the young fool could speak. I toyed with the idea of mentioning that Justin was right-handed unlike our slasher, but why take the weasel off the hook. Besides, even if he wasn't the killer that didn't mean he didn't have some other connection to the thievery ring that he hadn't revealed. Maybe he wasn't the box of rocks he pretended to be.

  “Do you know where the owner lost it?”

  “In the lounge area near the women’s spa and fitness center. And, yes, before you ask, that’s one of the areas where other passengers told us jewelry went missing, including that engagement ring,” Bill added.

  “The cool blond hanging out with the thieves must like shiny things as much as Klepto-Kitty and I do, Jack.” Bill, Justin, and Maggie stared at me. I didn’t have time to explain about Klepto-Kitty before Justin bellowed.

  “I’m no klepto-anything. I’ve never seen that bracelet before, and I told you Martin Santo had the ring that’s missing, not me. Somebody’s trying to make me a patty. You said it yourself!”

  “Derek!” Bill bellowed suddenly. The door to the infirmary opened, and a young man darted into the room.

  “Yes, Sir. What is it?”

  “Go back to that cabin we were searching and bring a sweatshirt—any one you can find quickly—and sweatpants, please.”

  “Right away,” Derek said as he left the room.

  “Georgie has a point. The elusive blond certainly has some association with the trouble on this ship since she’s now popped up twice—her hair has anyway,” Jack commented.

  “She would have had access to those locations that are restricted to women only. Maybe the three men fighting it out on Deck 6 this morning had some help from the woman whose hair we found on the late, Jake Nugent.”

  “That makes sense, Georgie. If Tina’s not hiding out somewhere with Martin Santo, she could be doubling up with the blond. I don’t suppose there’s an easy way to screen passengers for hair color, is there, Bill?”

  “Why not ask the Spa Attendants,” I said. “A cool blond might stand out if she’s been a regular down
there. Justin mentioned that Tina works out. If they know each other, they could have shown up together. You have a picture of Tina to show them. Guests leave cabin numbers when they make appointments. Maybe Tina's cabin number and the one that belongs to our unknown blond will turn up on the same day if the know each other. And, and on days that passengers reported they lost jewelry. We'll start by asking about the women, showing them that picture of Tina. Then we'll ask them to search for the days when Tina's cabin number appears. After that...” When I looked up, the others were staring at me.

  “What? Am I repeating myself? You’re not still waiting for an explanation about Klepto-Kitty, are you?” I asked.

  “I don’t know about the others,” Bill responded. “I was wondering how you could be thinking as clearly as you are after all that’s gone on today. Especially after that whooping you gave to the parrot who now realizes he’s a patsy.” Bill turned toward Justin before adding, “It’s a patsy, Justin, not a patty.” Justin shrugged.

  “Patty, patsy—whatever,” he said.

  “Once we get Justin situated in the brig, I’ll see if I can find someone to follow up on your suggestions about questioning the Spa Attendants. We’re stretched to the limit as you can imagine.”

  “All-hands-on-deck, I’m sure,” I said sympathetically. He was right that I was tired and stressed out, but until today, I’d been living it up. Bill and the rest of the crew had been working round-the-clock for the past week at sea before the trouble today. He had to be exhausted.

  “You’ve got it. Everybody’s on notice that we’re all on extra duty until we’re back in Papeete. It’s not my crew members out on the water searching for Passenger X, but we have Security Associates guarding our eyewitnesses, Wendy Cutler and David Engels, the morgue, and we’ll have to keep watch on Justin in the brig. We’ve stepped up patrols throughout the ship, too, with that slasher still on the loose.” At the mention of his name, followed shortly after that by a reference to a “slasher,” Justin squirmed. I sure hoped, for his sake and ours, that he wasn’t holding out on us.