'Some of this stuff must be priceless,' commented Amelia. 'Look at this page, Jonathan, it says these pieces belonged to the Russian royal family. Can you imagine that?'
'It didn't do them any good, did it? You can't take it with you, can you? My mother used to say that, you know,' replied an unimpressed Jonathan.
'That may be true,' said Amelia. 'But it doesn't mean you can't enjoy a little bit of luxury this side of eternity, does it? Anyway, if I follow your logic, no one would bother having anything nice on the basis that when you're dead, you’re dead. Your mother must have owned one or two things she saw as precious, yes?'
'Not that I can remember,' replied Jonathan. 'Her other favourite saying was to live one day at a time and not to bother planning for the future.'
'So what did she spend her money on then?' asked Amelia.
'Lotto scratch cards for the most part.'
'So what did she do with her winnings – there must've been winnings?'
'I found a whole heap of winning cards in a box on top of her wardrobe after she got run over by that bin lorry. Always puzzled me, that.'
'Why do you think she did that?' asked a confused Amelia.
'Well it didn't have anything to do with making my life any better. There wasn't much in the house, and there were no holidays. But what I do know from the odd remark she made about her own childhood, was that her family were poor and they had it tough. I think she was keeping those cards as security, even though she must have spent more than she won, it must've made sense to her.'
'How does that make you feel when you think back to your own childhood?' said Amelia.
'All said and done, she was me mum. Anyway, those tickets paid for this cruise.'
Before Amelia could respond to a contented-looking Jonathan, the queue began to shuffle forward. Inside the room, clusters of excited passengers gathered around each of the tall glass cases. Within each, a dazzling array of precious stones set in incredible settings glinted at their admirers.
Try as they could, the two friends failed to get anywhere near catching sight of the precious gems. Admitting failure, they headed for a corner of the room set out with several clusters of comfortable armchairs, each separated by shoulder height bamboo screens. The layout of the screens meant that each set of four chairs enjoyed a modicum of privacy within the cavernous space.
As the pair people watched, Amelia's ear pricked to a hushed conversation happening on the other side of the screen near them.
'Amelia, are you listening to me. I asked you three times how long are we going to hang around here. I might as well be sat in the bar, with the added benefit of having a beer in my–'
'Shhh… be quiet. Can't you hear what that man and woman are talking about,' whispered Amelia. She leaned into Jonathan so that he could hear her above the background noise.
'Hear what…' he replied.
'Well, if you'd shut up, you'd hear what I'm talking about,' she said before continuing. 'No, stupid, don't stand up. Just lean across a little. And keep your voice down.' Amelia pulled Jonathan back into his chair as the protesting young man shot his companion a bemused look.
'The bloke has just told the woman that everything is set up and he's got the security code to the door.'
'What door?' replied Jonathan, shooting Amelia another bemused look.
'Will you be quiet,' replied Amelia. She was now leaning so far over the side of her chair to be nearer the bamboo screen, that she almost tipped herself onto the floor.
'Bloody hell, she's just asked him how much they can expect to get from…' she said.
'From what, Amelia?' Jonathan spluttered.
'Oh, Jonathan. If you hadn't interrupted, I would have heard and look, they're getting up now. Quick, let's follow them and see where they go. If we're lucky we'll get to see the other gang members.'
'Other gang members. What are you talking about?'
'Will you be quiet. Come on, let's get going and stay close to them. And Jonathan, if you feel one of your little tics coming on, grab my arm. The last thing we want to do is draw any attention to ourselves. It could be dangerous you know.'
'Dangerous, I don't like the sound of that, Amelia.'
'I thought you said you came from a tough neighbourhood and you could look after yourself. I have to say from the look on your face I'm having my doubts.'
'I said I'd learned to look after myself because of the bigger lads always stealing my marbles.'
'And…' Amelia responded.
'Well, I did what the other smart kids did. I only played with my second-best marbles in the street, so if a big lad nicked them, I still had the best marbles in my pocket. See, being smart was better than getting a wallop in the ear.'
'…I'll remember that next time I'm playing marbles. Now, come on let’s get going,' she said.
***
'Amelia, we've been trudging round this bloody ship all day and thanks to you, I've missed dinner. All we've seen that couple do is elbow their way to the front of the queue at the buffet at lunchtime. Then they slagged off a tour rep about the price of shore excursions. And to top it all, pestered the entertainments director on where the ship's crew go overnight.'
'Well, I agree with them about the price of shore excursions,' Amelia said. 'Who wants to pay a king's ransom to sit on a coach for hours and, look around endless churches. On top of that, there's the passengers moaning about whether they'll be back in time for lunch.'
Well, if you ask–' Jonathan started, before Amelia interrupted.
'…Shhh, look… Look at them. Why are they dressed in leather? I think they've clocked us and are trying to throw us off the scent.'
Amelia didn't give Jonathan time to respond. Instead she grabbed his arm and led the way in pursuit of the leather clad duo. The throng of passengers in the public rooms gave way to the relative stillness of a corridor bordered by cabins on either side. It was now less easy for Amelia and Jonathan to disguise their presence. In response, they slowed to lengthen the distance between themselves and their quarry.
'Look, were getting near to the exhibition room. When they go to open the door, you take the man and I'll get the woman, right?' whispered Amelia into Jonathan's ear.
'What do you mean, 'take'?'
'You know, jump on them, take them down.'
'You've been watching too many police shows on TV. You can't just go around jumping on people. Why don't we go for Mr Simpers. He'll know what to do… If you're right.'
'What do you mean, if I'm right? You heard them…'
'No, Amelia. You were the one that heard what you think they said…'
'Oh, do give it up. I know what I heard and we have no time to get Mr Simpers. Look, they're stopping and putting masks over their faces. Ready, right, get them.'
Amelia rushed forward as the leather clad man punched a code into the door lock and began to open the door. As he did so, Amelia caught up with her quarry and placed her arms around the surprised woman's waist. At the same time, Jonathan rushed the man and all four tumbled into the room. Their entrance earned a gaggle of shrieks and risqué comments from a tangle of voices within the room.
'What an imaginative entry,' said one.
'I've seen some foursomes, but that takes the biscuit,' offered another.
'Clever of you all to come at the same time,' responded a third.
As the four untangled themselves from each other and got to their feet, the would-be detectives scanned the room. This is not the exhibition room, thought Amelia. Instead, they found themselves in a space about 20 feet square. The room overflowed with an odd assortment of cushions and soft furnishings, on which a dozen or so men and woman lounged in various stages of undress. Each wore an ornate facemask, which Amelia realised were the same as those worn by the couple they had just attacked.
'What the hell do you think you are doing?' asked the man in leather as he replaced his slip on shoes.
‘Well… we. I say we, I mean Jonathan and I, well, we thought you were
going to break into the gem exhibition and…'
Amelia's mumbled explanation reduced the room to fits of laughter. She didn't take the guffaws in good spirit, but decided it wasn't the time to enter into a prolonged conversation.
'Gem exhibition? Break in? What the hell are you talking about,' said the woman whom until a few seconds ago found herself pinned to the ground by Amelia.
'Amelia, here, said she heard you ask him how much you can expect to get from…' offered Jonathan.
'Get from what?' replied the woman.
'Well… come to think of it, Amelia didn't hear that bit, did you, Amelia?' said Jonathan.
Amelia shot the young man a withering look before turning her eyes to a familiar looking couple. Where did she know them from, she pondered. Anyway, they seemed otherwise engaged with a second couple, who she didn't recognise. Then it came to her…
'Mr and Mrs Smeeton? It is you, isn't it?'
The mention of their name caught the attention of the Smeetons. In response, they stopped what they were doing and fixed Amelia with a wide smile.
'Hi, Amelia… and Jonathan,' offered Mrs Smeeton before continuing, 'I didn't think this scene was for you. Anyway, the more the merrier and it doesn't matter one bit that you're not dressed in leather. If you have a word with me after, I'll tell you where I get my stuff, you cheeky pair.'
For once, Amelia was dumbstruck. Jonathan didn't seem to be suffering from the same affliction as he scanned the room with enthusiasm.
The woman Amelia had grabbed a few seconds earlier turned to her would-be attacker. 'What you heard me say, Amelia, is it?' said was that I wondered how much we would make from the evening's meeting. You see we organise these little get-togethers, but we do have expenses, you know.'
'Evening's meeting? Do you mean… This evening… This coming together, so to speak?' replied Amelia.
'You are cheeky, aren't you. I know we didn't get off to the best of introductions, but if you like, you can join SCREW.'
'SCREW, now let me think what that might stand for… Could it be Swingers Cruise Worldwide?'
'How clever of you, Amelia. How did you get that so fast?' replied Jenny Smeeton.
'Let's just say I'm good with words…' replied Amelia as she slapped Jonathan in the arm by way of diverting his attention.
'I hope you don't mind, but Jonathan and I have other things we need to do this evening.'
'Well, that's a shame, but if you change your mind you're both most welcome,' replied the leather clad woman as she opened the cabin door with a smile for the two failed sleuths.
'Amelia, Jonathan, I didn't think this sort of thing was your scene at all… Just shows you how you can misjudge people. Good for you.'
'Mr Simpers, what exactly do you think is going on?' replied a surprised Amelia as she stepped into the corridor to see Simpers peering into the room.
Simpers gestured for Amelia to look back into the room. At that moment Jenny Smeeton emerged from several bear arms and legs. She threw Simpers a wild smile.
'Naughty Mr Simpers. We do keep meeting in the nicest of circumstances, don't we…'
'Ah, Mrs Smeeton,' Simpers responded with the faintest trace of wearisomeness in his voice. 'In fact, I was on my way back to my cabin and heard… a bit of a commotion.'
'To be truthful, Mr Simpers, it's a bit of a story, but we thought…' said Amelia, trying her best to sound conspiratorial.
'No, Amelia, you thought…' interjected Jonathan.
'Well, never mind what anybody thought,' said Amelia. 'It's time we were off.' Amelia leaned into Simpers, grabbing his arm and whimpering into his ear.
'Mr Simpers, you see, we thought the woman at the door, with her husband. Well… we heard them at the exhibition. We thought they were talking about stealing the gems… the ones you are here to look after. Well, we thought we would help you. I did tell you I was a bit of an amateur sleuth, didn't I?'
Simpers was becoming more weary by the second. 'Yes, Amelia, I do recall you saying something to that effect… but I don't think a group of Swingers are much of a threat, do you? After all, where would they hide the gems?'
Simpers gestured with a backwards nod of his head into the room as the sight inside vanished as the door closed. Amelia blushed. In normal circumstances she would have come out fighting. The trouble was, her growing respect for, in her eyes, an intriguing man who happened to be a detective, prevented her from doing so. Instead, she did what she did when her husband got the better of her… she smiled and winked at him.
As the three companions set off down the corridor, a man coming the other way bumped into Simpers, knocking the detective off balance as he tried to make his way past in the narrow space.
'I do apologise,' said Simpers as he turned to face the man and catch his footing. In doing so, his foot caught the man hard in his ankle. Simpers' surprise was clear in that the man didn't wince. The man neither lifted his gaze from the carpeted floor to meet Simpers' eyes, nor gave any impression he had felt the blow.
For a fleeting moment Simpers thought he recognised the man. He racked his brain to place him, then remembered it was just before Pippa's fall through the deck railings, at least he thought it was. Simpers dug into his jacket pocket for a pineapple chunk. He sucked hard on the boiled sweet, deep in thought. He was also oblivious to Amelia and Jonathan, who were still arguing about who had got the wrong end of which stick.
A Basket Case
'A penny for them…?'
Simpers recognised the voice behind the question as he rested against the ship's railing high on the sun deck.
'Nothing of any real consequence, Deputy Captain. Just nice to see land again.'
'…And it's a beautiful piece of land, isn't it,' said the Deputy Captain. 'I love coming to Funchal. Friendly people and you can get a great cup of cappuccino and Madeira cake from a place I know on the waterfront. I can show you around the place if you want…'
Simpers listened without responding; instead he continued to take in the panorama in front of him. Behind a long narrow strip that enclosed the promenade, the terrain rose to form a vertical backdrop. The landscape was covered with flowers of every colour with buildings clinging to the rocky terrain as if by luck, more than design.
'What's it to be, then. Being a Billy no mates, or a peaceful day taking in the sights?'
'Did you read a book on metaphors over breakfast this morning, Deputy Captain?' replied Simpers, before continuing. 'I'm sorry, that was a little harsh. The truth is I don't have much time for this tourist stuff, so if you don't mind…'
'Nonsense, Simpers, it may be true that you've had one or two little adventures since we set sail, but on the positive side no gems have gone missing. The weather's warm, and you never know what you might discover ashore. So, what do you think?'
'I'm not sure I'd describe shot at and almost tipped overboard as little adventures, as you put it. That said, the promise of a cappuccino and the chance to get on firm ground again does sound tempting.'
'To be fair, I would say the bit about going overboard was more to do with Pippa being the target, for whatever reason, than about you. Anyway, you can forget all that for a couple of hours. Come on, let's get going.'
'Pippa? Do you believe that…?' replied Simpers.
'Who knows; jealous boyfriend, deranged stalker…' responded the Deputy Captain.
'Don't talk nonsense.' Simpers couldn't hide his irritation, which brought the merest hint of a smile to the Deputy Captain's face.
When you've been at sea for as long as I have, especially on cruise liners, you learn that anything is possible. People who work in this industry, well, let's just say it's a strange world to inhabit.'
'…But Pippa doesn't work in the industry…' said Simpers, his irritation increasing.
'Good Lord, man. Why the stern look? I haven't the faintest idea what the woman does for a living. Now, see, the gangplank's down. Let's get going before every coffee shop on the promenade is full of impatient cruise
passengers.'
'Those inpatient passengers give you your living, don't they?'
'It doesn't mean I like them, does it? Remember, I've seen and heard everything. And every fortnight I see and hear it all again. A little like the excuses you must hear from your villains time and time again. See, we have much in common.'
Simpers knew they had nothing at all in common.
***
'You might not believe it, but the weather is like this all year round. It averages about 68°, not bad for the middle of December, eh.'
'You're right, it beats a sleety day in Westbay,' replied Simpers as the two men started the twenty minute walk around the harbour wall and into the heart of the waterfront. He looked back to catch a glimpse of the immense superstructure of the cruise liner. He marvelled as it sat with majesty in the glinting waters that lapped around its hull.
'She is magnificent, isn't she?' said the Deputy Captain as he caught Simpers glimpsing the ship. 'You might find it even harder to believe that she has a draft of just thirty feet. Think about it, just over 150,000 tonnes and sixteen decks tall, and she sits just thirty feet below the waterline. Amazing isn't it,' said the Deputy Captain.
'As long as it stays at the recommended thirty feet below the water, then I'll be quite happy,' replied Simpers as he returned his head to look forward, only to notice the graffiti covering the long dock wall.
'Bit of a tradition that,' said the Deputy Captain as he observed Simpers straining to make out the roughly painted wording and fading images. 'Some of those, what would you call them, tags, go back decades. If you asked me it was a sign of ship crews having too much time on the hands. It may please you to know that our crew have not kept up the tradition… Not on my watch anyway.'
Simpers looked at the Deputy Captain. A stern face returned his gaze.
'Talking about traditions, a passenger mentioned something about Levadas earlier. Do you know what they are?' Simpers asked, disinterested in the Deputy Captain's exposition on man management.
'…Leading-edge technology in its day,' the Deputy Captain responded.
Diamond in the Blue: D.I. Simpers Investigates Page 9