Mostly, I had remained silent. Except when it came to describing the incidents Gerard had recounted to me. That included the discoveries he had made in the commissary kitchen, and that “dead duck” message left soon after he began trying to get to the bottom of what was going on.
Jack had asked that they hold questions until the end of our summary of events. By then, we hoped Bill Tate, Adam Drake, and Dr. Maggie Hayward would join us to go over written reports Jack and the other principle participants in the investigation had compiled. When they hadn’t shown up by the end of that overview, Captain Andrews had his second mate call Bill Tate on his cell phone.
“Nothing, Sir.”
“Try again in a few minutes," Captain Andrews said.
"Will do!"
"If the Security Chief is still down in the commissary kitchen and storage areas, cell phones don’t always pick up the signal. Especially now that we’re at anchor and may not have repositioned our satellites to optimize onboard communications,” Captain Andrews explained to those of us sitting in that room.
Max rolled his eyes and thumped his fingers on the table. Just as I was trying to figure out what to do next, Maggie walked in. She had a stack of printed material that she distributed. The Captain made a round of introductions as Maggie took a seat a couple of chairs away from me.
“Sorry I’m late, Jack. I wanted to update the reports we had put together with the information collected this morning about Abby Kinkaid. What you have in front of you are written reports about the investigation into Jake Nugent’s murder, the disappearance and recovery of Passenger X, who we now know as Abby Kinkaid, and an assault involving Justin Michelson. The bodies of the dead passengers are in the ship’s morgue. Justin Michelson is being held below in the brig. There’s also a summary of the thefts that have occurred on board during this cruise and an inventory of the evidence that’s been collected and stored in a secure location in the infirmary.”
We all flipped through the stack of pages in front of us. The amount of material to be covered was daunting. This review could take the rest of the day, I thought. Did Max get that? He had stopped thrumming his fingers on the table as he scanned the material.
“Where would you like to start?” Jack asked. Before anyone could reply to his question, Miles roared. Ella cried, too. None too politely. The sight of those awful photos made me want to chime in and wail along with them. Instead, I opted to escape.
“I’m so sorry. I need to take the cats back to our suite. Our morning constitutional has turned into a marathon.” Jack did not look happy. “If you’ll excuse me for 20 minutes or so, I’ll drop them off and return as soon as I can. You have lots of material to go through before we can get to the discussion Max wants to have about the ship’s itinerary. I’d like to be in on that conversation.” I saw Jack’s shoulders relax. Murder, mayhem, theft—no problem—facing an imperious, often irrational CEO was another matter.
“Hurry back,” he whispered. Max’s hearing is as good as his eyesight.
“Yes, do hurry back, Georgie. We have some vital decisions to make. It’s almost 10:00 already. Time is not our friend.”
“I understand, Max.” Since I’d been up and at it since before seven, it felt more like ten o’clock at night than ten a.m. At that point, I raced out of there, especially when I heard Maggie’s opening remarks.
“Shall we start with the preliminary report about timing, manner, and mode of death involving the murder of Jake Nugent? As you can see from photos taken at the crime scene…”
“Let’s make our getaway, quick guys!” When we got to the bottom of the steps, I saw that tender boat again. This time it was loaded with people and cargo, including a rectangular container that I recognized immediately.
“How do you like that? Gerard must have gotten permission to take his pig ashore and cook it in an imu on the beach,” I said aloud. A man in a tall chef's hat stood on that craft, with a smaller member of the kitchen staff beside him. As I strained to look more closely, I saw two things. The man in the tall hat was a blond, and seated at his feet was Bill Tate.
“That’s odd,” I said, speaking to the cats again. I pulled out my cell phone and called Gerard. No answer. “Sorry, pals, one quick stop and then we’ll go home, okay?” The only reply was a round of chatter—no booming protest.
In two or three minutes, I was at Kehlani’s Lagoon on Deck 2 where the morning buffet was packed. Large dolphin figures wearing flower garlands and leis stood on either side of the entrance. A seating hostess in a colorful Polynesian print shirt and shorts greeted me.
“Oh, what beautiful cats! I wish they could come in and join the fun, but no pets allowed.”
“I completely understand, but I have a huge favor to ask. Have you seen Chef Gerard this morning? Is he on the floor of the dining room, by any chance?”
“I haven’t seen him this morning at all, now that you ask. He’s usually running around, talking to passengers, and making sure the buffet is…”
“I’m sorry to cut you off. It’s urgent that I find him. Can you have someone check to see if he might be in the kitchen, please? Tell him it’s Georgie Shaw.” She must have sensed that my stress level had climbed a few notches after hearing that Gerard wasn’t there.
“Sure,” she said. “Let me get someone to take my place, and I’ll go find Gerard for you.” In a flash, a woman dressed in identical garb took her place. She immediately spotted the cats and oohed and aahed at them until hungry passengers arrived, looking for breakfast.
Should I go back and interrupt that meeting? I wondered as I waited for Gerard to join me. What was I going to do, though? Run in there and holler, “Stop that pig!”
I had my phone out and went over the email from Carol, nervously thumbing through those pictures she had sent me. I returned to the one in which Paolo was smiling with Tina nearby. I slid to the next picture in the series and froze. No way! What was going on? I called Gerard on his cell phone again.
“Gerard, it’s Georgie. I need to speak to you right away. Call me as soon as you can.”
18 A Psycho Logical Move
“I’m sorry, but no one has seen Gerard all morning. Someone said Paolo mentioned that Chef was sleeping in this morning after a bad night.”
“Thanks. Now what?” I asked that question out loud. The young man in kitchen whites stood there staring at me.
“Nice cats.”
“Yes, I know. Thanks. Look, uh, Ray,” as his name tag indicated, “I need to see Gerard as soon as possible. Can you take me to his cabin? I’m an executive with Marvelous Marley World, see?” He took the I.D. card I handed him and examined it. “I wouldn’t impose upon you or disturb him except that it’s an emergency. I know my way there, but I don’t have access to staff quarters. Do you?”
“Sure, Ms. Shaw. Maybe it’ll cheer him up to see you and your cats. Let’s go.” He returned my I.D. card to me, stepped toward the restaurant, and then realized that wasn’t going to work. “This way,” Ray said leading me to an elevator designated for shipboard personnel only.
“Does this have anything to do with the guys in that helicopter?” Ray asked as we rode down in the elevator.
“Yes, it does. What have you heard about that?”
“Only that it’s about the passenger they found at the crack of dawn. Drowned, right?”
“I’m afraid so. Has anyone said anything to you about changes in the plans for the luau celebration tonight?”
“Since the last change, you mean when it was supposed to happen last night here in port and then it didn’t?” The elevator door slid open, and we stepped out into the corridor that led to Gerard’s room. He was in the last cabin on this floor.
“Yes, I suppose that’s what I mean. It’s been a difficult couple of days, hasn’t it?”
“You can say that again. No new changes.” The cats were straining on their leashes, pulling me forward. Miles let out a low guttural cry that was a cross between a meow and a growl.
&nb
sp; “What is it, Miles?” The hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood up.
I reviewed my situation once again as we rushed down the corridor. As far as I could tell, I had three options. One was to call Bill Tate on his cell phone. Until I had a better handle on what was up out there on that tender, that didn’t seem like a valid option. If he was a hostage, that call could get him injured or killed. Besides, what if he wasn't a hostage and he was in on whatever was going on? My call could tip him off that he had been discovered making his getaway on that launch. That’s why I had decided to try to find Gerard as soon as possible.
My second option was to sound a general alarm with security, but that could have a bunch of unfortunate consequences, too. Like, getting Bill Tate killed if he wasn’t on that tender voluntarily, scaring the heck out of passengers, needlessly, or looking like a fool if all of this was paranoia on my part.
A third possibility was to track down the only other guy I knew by name who was intimately familiar with all the trouble on board. Not a high-powered member of the staff, but Bill had trusted him and he ought to be able to tell me what he and Bill had been doing while Jack and I were in that conference room.
“Do you have a way to call security,” I asked my companion.
“Yes,” he replied.
“Do it, will you, please? Ask for Adam Drake. If you get him on the line, I’d like to speak to him.”
Ray looked puzzled as he did as I asked. I heard Ray ask for Adam Drake just as we arrived at the door to Gerard’s cabin. I knocked gently on the door. It was closed but not latched. I felt a slight movement as I rapped on the door.
“Gerard,” I called out. “It’s Georgie. Are you there?” Miles did not wait for an answer. He stood up and leaned against the door, with tiny Ella doing the same. Their weight was sufficient to push open that door wider.
“Gerard!” I cried.
“It’s Adam Drake, Ms. Shaw.” As I took that phone from Ray, the cats dragged me forward into Gerard’s room. Gerard was lying on the floor.
“Adam, it’s Georgie Shaw. I’m in Chef Gerard’s cabin. Come quickly, but please don’t tell anyone where you’re going. Hurry,” I said as I hung up and handed the phone back to Ray.
The cats were swarming Gerard. When he moaned, I felt a rush of relief. He was alive! There wasn’t any blood, either, and no visible sign of injury.
“Ray, can you bring me a damp washcloth from the bathroom, please?” He sprang into action without saying a word.
I knelt on the floor beside Gerard. “Gerard, it’s Georgie. Can you speak to me, please? Gerard, what happened?”
“Drugs,” was all he said as his eyes fluttered open and then shut again. The cats were tugging at their leashes, straining to reach a coffee cup that lay on the ground. There was a stain on the rug where some of its contents must have spilled when it fell to the floor.
“Oh, no you don’t,” I said pulling the cats back toward me. Ella went back to bothering Gerard, trying to wake him up. I was about to push her away when she gurgled a sound I recognized as a happy one. Miles was at her side in an instant as we watched her pull my missing necklace from Gerard’s shirt pocket. A gasp escaped my lips before I could stop it.
“Here you go,” Ray said, thrusting that damp cloth my way. “What’s that?”
“Thanks, Ray. That happens to be my necklace. Ella has developed a fondness for it.” I probably should have been wearing those latex gloves, but no way was I going to let Klepto-Kitty run off with the evidence. She was a good sport as I took it from her. “Can you hang onto these guys for a second while I see if I can get Chef Gerard to wake up?”
“Wow, when Paolo said Chef had a bad night, he meant it!” Ray took the leashes and backed off with the cats in tow.
“So, true, Ray.” I used that cool rag to wash Gerard’s face and spoke to him again. If we hadn’t searched the restaurant this morning, and put together our own story of how my necklace had vanished, I might have reacted to Ella’s find in a much different way. If I had to guess, I’d say Gerard was supposed to have been found in a near stupor with that necklace on his person. Another "patty," as Justin would have said.
“Gerard, I need you to wake up. What was in the coffee? Do you know?” Gerard’s eyes opened again. This time he kept them open long enough to see it was me. “Drugs in my coffee, Georgie. Paolo’s got the pig.” Gerard grabbed hold of me and tried to sit up.
“Hang on, Gerard,” I said. “Take it easy.” A rush of noise in the corridor made my heart skip a beat. The knock on the door that followed set my heart racing until I heard Adam Drake’s voice.
“Georgie, it’s me, Adam. I got here as soon as I could.”
“Let him in, will you, Ray?” Ray did as he was asked and opened the door.
“Adam, something’s happened. Can you help me get Gerard up into a sitting position so he can tell us the whole story?”
In another minute, we had Gerard upright and leaning against the edge of the couch in his sitting room. He sipped water holding the cup in shaky hands.
“Where’s the pig?” Gerard asked.
“I’m fairly sure it’s in the tender on its way to shore. Paolo, Bill Tate, and another member of the kitchen staff are with it.”
“You’ve got to stop them, Georgie. The stolen jewelry is inside it. They had it in my safe—the one I told you about where I keep the expensive items we use during the cruise. Paolo came for his secret stash this morning. He had a crew member with him. Paolo calls him Marty.”
“Was it Martin Santo, Gerard?” I glanced at Adam who nodded as though he understood who I was asking about and why.
“Yes, that’s him. He works in the kitchen but picks up a few shifts in housekeeping, too. Now I understand why he was always hanging around Paolo and why Paolo covered for him when the guy showed up late or missed a shift.” Gerard drank more of the water from that cup. “I figured they had something going, Georgie—something personal.”
“Adam, when was the last time you saw Bill?”
“He had Paolo Vannelli in custody after locating him in the commissary kitchen.”
“Vannetti,” Gerard corrected Adam.
“No, Gerard, it’s probably Vannelli,” I showed him that photo on my phone.
“How is that possible? When was he in Vegas? That wasn’t even on his resume.”
“I’m betting he had good reason to hide that part of his life from you. Right now, I need to sort things out a bit so we can stop that pig. How do you know the jewelry is in the pig?”
“Paolo laughed about it. He made me sign a requisition asking for the use of the tender to go ashore with that pig so it could be cooked someplace I never heard of before. The order said Paolo and his assistant were going along to ensure proper cooking and handling of the product.”
“Bill Tate would never have allowed Paolo Vannelli to do that,” Adam remarked. “We had picked him up for questioning as a suspect in the thefts and murders on board this ship!”
“Whoa,” Ray murmured from behind us, as he backed up and sank into a chair.
“So, Gerard, Bill had Paolo in custody. Then what happened?”
“Paolo was squawking that he’d injured himself in the scramble to cuff him. Bill agreed to stop by the infirmary so Maggie could check him out. I haven’t heard from Bill since then. With the arrival of the FBI by helicopter…”
“FBI? No way!” Ray muttered before Adam could finish his sentence.
“I figured Bill was tied up, filling in the agents and transferring authority to them.”
“He may be tied up all right,” I muttered. “I’m going to call my husband, Detective Wheeler, and try to explain all this to him. I figured Paolo had to have help from someone with authority on board. I had to be sure that it wasn’t Bill.”
“I’ll get Gerard some more water. Should I call Maggie and have her come check on Gerard?”
“No!” I said more loudly than I meant to do. “She’s busy with Captain Andrews and the F
BI team doing what you thought Bill was doing.”
I placed a call to Jack. “Dang, it!” I said a few seconds later when the call didn’t go through.
“Can you get a call through to Jack Wheeler on your phone, Adam?” He gave it a try.
“No, there must be something blocking our reception down here. We should have better luck up on deck.”
“Gerard, sit tight. Ray, you’re in charge until we get back with more help. Shut the door behind us and don’t let anyone in here unless you’re certain it’s us. Got it?”
“Murder, thefts, drownings, FBI—don’t worry. I’ve got it.”
“Come here, Baby,” Gerard said. Ella was in that ‘can’t-see-scary, scary-can’t-see-me’ position again. I picked her up, gave her a smooch, and placed her in Gerard’s arms.
“Mama will be back soon.”
Adam and I were on the upper deck in two minutes. My phone still didn’t work. Adam had no luck, either. I could see that tender was much closer to shore now. The whole episode locating and reviving Gerard hadn’t taken more than fifteen minutes. Still, we had no time to lose. I took off running with Adam at my side. When we got to the foot of those steps leading up to the bridge, I stopped and composed myself.
“Are you authorized to take us up there, Adam?”
“Yes.”
“Once you get me through security, I want you to get out of sight. Maggie’s in that room. I don’t want her to get away.”
“Maggie?” It was as if an electric shock shot through Adam. The light bulb came on, and he nodded.
“She’s cool as a cucumber, but I doubt she’ll stay that way if she sees you with me. It also wouldn’t surprise me if she’s armed in some way, just in case her plans to keep everyone busy in that room long enough to get the loot ashore came undone. She must be expecting to get a signal of some kind once Paolo’s on shore and in the clear. Then I guess she’ll excuse herself from that meeting. If that happens, you and your security chums grab her, okay?”
Murder at Sea of Passenger X Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #5 (Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery Series) Page 15