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

by Anna Celeste Burke

  The tent hadn’t helped matters, either. While it kept passengers from stumbling across a vacation memory that would last a lifetime, it was getting hot in there by the time they finished evaluating that crime scene. Once they had documented the scene, preserved the evidence, and moved the body to the ship’s morgue, they had cleaned up the area to avoid another problem—a biohazard on a ship crowded with adults and children.

  “Didn’t anyone report noise coming from in here? That blood could mean there was a fight, even if most of the carnage in this room is from a search,” I asked.

  “No. The blood is fresh, so this happened recently. Most of the passengers were likely up on Deck 2 eating dessert. The Captain says Chef Gerard has outdone himself and it’s one of the biggest turnouts for an event on any cruise.”

  “They must have been searching for valuables in Abby’s possession. The safe in the back of her closet’s open, but empty. Have you checked that area already?”

  “Yes. It’s one of the first things we did as soon as we made sure Abby wasn’t in here—dead or alive,” Bill said.

  “No personal items or luggage around. Do you think Abby was all packed and ready to go when her visitor or visitors decided to ransack the room before dragging her out of here?” I asked.

  “More likely, Abby did the same thing that Tina did. We can check but I bet Abby packed up, left, and had the steward assigned to her cabin clean it,” Jack said.

  “That must mean Tina and Abby decided to go undercover either before they set that plan into motion to have Perroquet run us down, or as soon as they found out how badly it went,” I said.

  “That makes sense in Tina’s case because Justin could identify her. He’d gone to her cabin to find Martin Santo and again when he picked up that stupid parrot costume,” Maggie said. “Why would Abby run? Justin never saw the two women together, did he?”

  “It didn’t take us that much effort to put the two women together. Even if we hadn’t suspected there was a connection between Tina and Abby before we went to the spa, I’ll bet Kayla or one of the other attendants would have made the connection for us. Ask about how to find Tina, and you get a lead to Abby,” I replied.

  “It could be,” Jack muttered. “News sure gets around on this cruise—and fast. For Tina to steal that costume and recruit Justin, she must have picked us out as targets soon after we started asking questions.”

  “Well, someone had already warned Gerard. Maybe my visit to him triggered her interest in me, and she went into action. I must have been on my way to lunch with Gerard when Tina used that as an opportunity to set the scene for Justin. That’s the only time Gerard and I were out on deck together.”

  “Yeah, well that’s my point. You hadn’t been with Gerard more than an hour or so before Tina stole that Perroquet costume and started working on Justin to get him to discourage you from any further snooping. Someone called Tina while Justin was in her cabin, setting his attack into motion. We were being watched by then for sure since Justin knew precisely where to find us.” Before he could say more, Maggie interrupted and got us refocused on the present melee.

  “So, let’s say both women went into hiding, why come back here in the last hour or two?” Maggie asked.

  “Abby had something Tina or that third man wanted back. Whatever double-dealing set all this in motion this morning hasn’t been settled. If the blood is Abby’s, either she wasn’t cooperative, or they didn’t find what they were looking for and took it out on her. The sooner we find them, the better chance Abby has of living through this. Any idea where else to search?” Jack asked. “What about the crew’s quarters?”

  “Well, they don’t show up on video collected today at the main entry points to areas that are off limits to passengers. It’s not like the cameras elsewhere on the ship that are fixed to capture a wide angle and leave gaps in coverage. At our core checkpoints, no one gets through without leaving a clear video record. At access points to the bridge, the engine room, crew quarters, and other sensitive restricted areas, we don’t just record what goes on. We have eyes on them, too, using CCTV—closed circuit TV. We can reposition cameras or zoom in for a close-up. I had the video in those locations double-checked just in case someone missed something because this has been such a demanding day for security. Anyway, we can rule out those restricted areas as a place for Tina and Abby to hide out.”

  “Even if you’re right about that, Bill, someone on the crew must be mixed up in this if it turns out Passenger X was a stowaway. If Georgie's right and Jake Nugent's killer used a fillet knife, it must have come from one of the kitchens, even though we haven’t located it yet. The disarray Gerard found in the commissary kitchen means more than one crew member is involved if he’s correct that a dispute between employees created that mess. Not to mention that the nasty message someone left for Gerard, using a dead duck to make the point, occurred in the crew quarters.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, and I’m concerned about it too. Even with help from employees, if our passengers entered the restricted areas, we would have captured their images on video.”

  “Then where are Tina and Abby?” Jack asked as he stood and removed the gloves that he had been wearing.

  “Justin is young and not too bright, but there are a surprising number of men on cruises who can be taken in by a woman like Tina Marston. Abby, too, maybe. They could be in another passenger's stateroom. It’s possible someone noticed a man with one of the women when they left their cabins rolling their luggage behind them. We’re making the rounds asking about that now—among other things. Here on Deck 6 and above us on Deck 7 near the cabin assigned to Tina. We have a security team going cabin by cabin, with pictures of the two women, Jake Nugent, and Martin Santo.”

  “Martin Santo? Why?” I asked.

  “I should have mentioned this when I called Jack a few minutes ago. When we had the sketch artist sit down with Justin and draw a picture of Martin Santo, it resembled the one we already had. We showed Justin the first drawing from Wendy Cutler and David Engels’ descriptions of the third man they saw running away this morning. Justin got real excited. ‘That’s him! He must have ripped off other passengers, too, huh?’” Bill shook his head before going on. “Ya think? We had told him more than once that Martin Santo, if that’s his real name, probably had a ring in his possession that wasn’t his. Box of rocks.”

  “Stupid doesn’t necessarily make him any less dangerous,” Jack said.

  “That is true. I’m glad Justin didn’t hurt you and Georgie any worse than he did.”

  “Let’s say Martin Santo is the third man in that fight this morning—a dark-haired, left-handed slasher who used what might have been a fillet knife to kill Jake Nugent. He’s not on the passenger manifest. How can that be?” I asked.

  “Who knows if that’s even his real name? If he booked the cruise using another name, he could be sitting tight in his cabin right now. Tina and Abby could be with him,” Bill replied.

  “Not necessarily by choice, for Abby, given the disaster in this room,” Maggie said as she pointed to a tiny object on the floor. “Can you get a photo of this before I bag it, please, Bill?” Bill did as she asked.

  “What is that?” I asked Maggie.

  “I’m not sure.” Holding the item up for closer inspection as she dropped it into a plastic baggie. “It’s part of an earring or some other piece of jewelry. Not a real gem.”

  “There was a stone missing from that fake necklace Jake Nugent had on him, wasn't there?” I asked.

  “More than one, as I recall,” Jack replied.

  “Yes,” Maggie said. Maggie tagged the bag containing that fake gem. Then she got down on her knees and peered under the bed. “Maybe there are more like that under here.”

  “Bingo!” she cried a moment later. “I’m going to need a fresh glove and a bigger bag.”

  12 No Honor Among Thieves?

  “Abby may have had a male companion after all,” Maggie said as she bagged an
d tagged what appeared to be a man’s shoe.

  “One who was at our murder scene,” Jack added. “I hate to jump to conclusions, but the waffle-weave on the sole looks like a match to the print we found near Jake Nugent. It’s distinctive.”

  “That’s an overshoe—a shoe cover like you wear if you’re working in slippery areas of a kitchen where there's water or grease. It’s non-skid, easy to get on and off, and washable, too. You might not find much blood on it,” I said.

  “Easy off might explain why we didn’t find more than one footprint. If Martin Santo saw that print, he might have removed it before running away and leaving more tracks for us to follow.” Jack leaned in to get a closer look at that shoe as he spoke.

  “It’s squishy,” Maggie said, squeezing the plastic bag a little. “I guess that’s how it got shoved up against the back wall under the bed.”

  I stood there, gazing at yet another link to the jewel thieves who seem to be behind all the horrible events of the day, including that murder. The silliest of concerns pounced upon my overtaxed brain as it ran a super-fast video replaying all that ugliness.

  My feet hurt! I grumbled silently to myself. Everyone in this cabin had to be as exhausted and discouraged as me. How petty to worry about sore feet! Why had I worn heels?

  Jack caught my eye and smiled, providing an immediate answer to that unspoken question. I’d worn the heels, the dress, and the lovely pendant I held between my fingers for Jack. Remembering, now, the way he had reacted when I stepped out of our bedroom, endorphins rushed through my body, soothing my aching feet.

  “Georgie Shaw, you are a delight to behold,” he had exclaimed when he looked up from the laptop he held. His fingers had been moving rapidly over the keyboard, working on that report he was putting together compiling details about the investigation into the murder of Jake Nugent. Plus, notes about circumstances surrounding the man overboard, jewelry thefts, and our encounter with a giant parrot. Jack sat in a comfortable oversized chair with a Siamese cat perched on each arm of the chair, supervising his efforts.

  “I’m glad you can say that after the day we’ve had,” I had responded as I moved the laptop he was using to the coffee table in front of him. Their supervision no longer required, the cats took off. I slipped onto Jack’s lap and wrapped my arms around him. “You work too hard, Detective. Some honeymoon, huh?”

  “What are you saying? An adventure in the South Sea Islands is what I call a honeymoon to remember. None of this is your fault, but I had no doubt from the moment I saw you that life with you would be an adventure!”

  “You’re just saying that because I had a giant Persian cat in my clutches, at the base of Catmmando Mountain, on my way to a crime scene.”

  “Zing! Cupid’s arrow struck on Valentine’s Day in Arcadia Park earning the right to Max's claim that it's the most marvelous place on earth. You made my point exactly!”

  “I doubt adventure would have come to mind if we’d met in my office with me sitting behind my desk reviewing budgets or writing mundane memos.”

  “I’ve been in your office when more than that was going on. An adventure there too.”

  “Hmm. That is true,” I had said. “Maybe we should skip dinner and dessert and hang a do not disturb sign on the door. We’ve had plenty of adventure for one day, don’t you agree?” My kiss had been convincing if I say so myself.

  Jack’s a man of duty, however. An alert on that laptop had stolen the moment, so to speak. I had opened an email from Bill containing a photo of Marsha Steven’s necklace, and then leapt from Jack’s lap. Not at the image of that necklace, but at the price tag on a claim form she filed with Captain Andrews along with the incident report. I moved out of the way so Jack could see the information on that laptop screen, too.

  “Wow! My eye for pricey shiny things is even better than I realized. Why would anyone bring such an expensive piece of jewelry on a cruise? Although, I’m not sure where else you would wear it—a ball at Fort Knox or the crowning of a king. What could she be thinking?”

  “I asked her that when I interviewed her.”

  “When did you do that?” I asked.

  “While you were lounging in the tub. I told you I had a couple of loose end to tie up.”

  “Writing reports is what I heard.” I shrugged. “So, what did she say?” I asked.

  “This probably won’t surprise you in the least. ‘If you’ve got it, darling, flaunt it. Besides, it’s insured.’ It’s not a museum piece, as she also pointed out when I pressed her on its value—which she hemmed and hawed about, I might add. Maybe, because I wasn’t alone.”

  “Oh, so that ‘darling’ wasn’t for you?” I had been teasing him a little when I used a vamp voice on that word darling, but I had also felt a bit relieved. “You’re pretty smart, copper, not to venture into that moll’s lair all alone.”

  “Adam took the original report from her, so it made sense to take him with me.”

  My Jack is a man of logic. The relief I had felt earlier washed over me again as I stood there waiting for this latest episode in our adventure to be over. I’m not sure why it had bothered me that he might have met with Marsha Stevens alone. I had known before I married him that my one-week-husband was a savvy, seasoned detective, not easy prey for vamps or villains.

  What is my problem? I wondered as I stood idly by watching the other three people in the room work. Have I suddenly become a jealous woman? I’ve never thought of myself in that way before. Maybe not all the changes that go with love and marriage are good ones. Jack is a man of integrity. Then again, I hope I’m as trustworthy as he is, and yet Paolo’s flirtation had bothered him. Jealousy goes with the territory in matters of the heart—even at our age.

  Under the right—or wrong—circumstances, jealousy can be lethal. Maybe that story of infidelity Tina made up casting me in the role of Jezebel hadn’t been a complete fabrication. Had Martin Santo betrayed Tina with Abby?

  “Can you imagine being a member of this team of thieving rogues? How would you ever be able to trust each other? Two very attractive women and the men who love to steal stuff with them. Only barely believable as the plot for a movie. Real life is stranger than fiction, though, isn’t it?” I asked, still wondering if the betrayal among these thieves was about more than business. Maggie’s thoughts must have been moving along the same track.

  “Yeah, but you forgot to add a line about ‘Until something goes terribly wrong and their love turns to hatred.’ Even harder to believe, I know, but something has set this pack of wild dogs loose on each other,” Maggie commented. “I hope we can find them before they kill again—even if it’s one of the wild dogs in the pack who’s at risk.”

  “There’s no honor among this bunch of thieves,” I added. “Why not add two-timing to double-dealing as a motive for murder and mayhem? Maybe Tina tore this room apart looking for proof that Martin Santo had been in here. What if she found the mate to that shoe and took it with her? It’s not in here, Jack.”

  “Whether this is about greed or love turned to hatred, Maggie’s right that we need to catch up with them. So far, they’ve managed to keep a step ahead of us. How hard can it be to figure out where they’re hiding on a ship at sea?”

  “Before you ask, Jack. Yes, we reviewed footage from the video camera in the corridor near Tina’s room. She left this morning, at the crack of dawn, wearing workout gear, and so did Abby. If the report you got from the spa is correct, they never made it there.”

  “Yes, that’s true, but Justin says Tina was back in her cabin a couple of hours later with that parrot costume. From what Kayla told us at the spa, Tina was capable of lugging that thing to her cabin from wherever she stole it. A woman carrying around a huge parrot costume is going to stand out. Surely that got picked up on a camera somewhere.”

  “You must have some idea, Jack, of how much footage that is. We can’t possibly go through all of it in a short time, so we pick and choose what to review based on location and timing. What we f
ound is a snippet of film showing a man wheeling away two large, bulky sacks near an exit from that theater. We assume the costume was in them. They could have passed for garbage bags if anyone had even noticed. It could be Martin Santo, but the man is wearing sunglasses and a hoodie, keeps his head down, and then steps out of range of that camera as soon as he can. Whoever it is seems way too careful to be box-of-rocks-Justin.”

  “Sounds like someone who’s familiar enough with the surveillance system to play games with you, Bill.”

  “It gets worse, Jack, when it comes to playing games. We don’t have any more video of Tina Marston later in the day because someone covered the lens on the camera in the corridor near her cabin.”

  “Don’t you get an alert when a camera goes offline?” Jack asked.

  “Technically, it wasn’t offline. It was still recording, but blocked because someone put peanut butter on it.”

  “Peanut butter?” Jack and I asked almost at the same time. Bill nodded.

  “I thought I caught a whiff of peanut butter in the corridor on our way here. Does that mean we have no video of what went on here, either?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, I’m afraid so. The ship's relatively new, and it's the first time we’ve had to put the video equipment to the test. There was a housekeeping cart in the hall on Deck 7 not long before someone monkeyed with the lens. We spoke to the steward on duty then who says she cleaned Tina’s cabin, but never saw Tina or Justin or anyone else hauling a big, bulky sack down the hall.”

  “Nothing on any of the images from cameras in the elevators or aimed at public spaces nearby on Decks 6 and 7?” Jack asked.

  “No,” Bill replied. “Lots of passengers and crew come and go, but none of our culprits and no one hauling garbage bags on or off an elevator.

  “How is that possible?” Jack asked. He was clearly frustrated at the thieves' ability to elude detection. There was more than a little irritation in his tone.

  “If I knew, I’d tell you,” Bill replied, in an equally irritated manner.