While Nicole mixed the martinis, Kat wandered around. She was in the rear of the suite for so long that Nicole went to find her. Kat was washing her face in the bathroom.
“The drinks are ready,” Nicole said.
“This suite is fabulous.” Kat was patting her face dry with a clean towel. “What I have is basically a studio. It’s big for a ship’s cabin, but the bed is part of the living room, and I don’t have a walk-in closet or a bathroom done in Carrara marble.”
When they sat down with their drinks, Kat looked at Nicole and her eyes teared up again. “I just don’t know what to do. Jack says he’s just realized that he loves me after all and wants me back. He’s such a jerk! I still love him, but how can I trust someone like that? If he left me once for another woman, he’ll do it again. Don’t you think?”
“I don’t know Jack,” Nicole said. “But commitment is really hard for some guys, and maybe he was just having a moment because he was scared. Obviously, this is your decision. If you think it’s worth giving him another chance, you could take him back and see what happens. But you may find yourself suspicious of him all the time, imagining him cheating on you or looking for someone better to come along.”
Kat shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to consider it.” There was a long silence while she seemed to be doing just that. But apparently her thoughts had slipped back to her favorite topic, speculation about the odd behavior and shortcomings of their fellow passengers.
“I forgot to tell you,” Kat said. “I had a long talk with Mary Haworth—you know, the hausfrau. Boy, does she love to gossip. She had some really juicy stories. One of the older men on the trip—I think his name is Clarence or something like that—yesterday, he walked into the main deck women’s room just as Mary was getting ready to leave. This guy actually peed against the wall, as if he thought there was a urinal there. But what Mary was most outraged about was that he left without even washing his hands.” Forgetting her tears, Kat giggled, all but restored to her old gossip-loving self.
When the time came, they left for dinner. Nicole was surprised to find her targets back from their unexplained excursion. They were standing by the door to the dining room, waiting for it to open. They looked rather pleased with themselves. Nicole was surprised when Kat turned to Mary Haworth and said, “I noticed you didn’t join us after Red Square. Where did you go?” It was the same question she’d asked David Wynn the day before.
The woman gestured toward the hat people. “Lucien and Sheila came up with the best idea! They heard admission to the Bolshoi Ballet’s practice sessions is free. There was one today, so a group of us went then stopped for drinks at this place called Dr. Zhivago. Such a beautiful restaurant! Wish we’d had time for a meal, but we had to get back to the ship.”
As they listened, Nicole exchanged glances with Kat. They were both thinking the same thing. The story sounded made up—and since Mary was no actress—utterly unconvincing. Once again, Nicole had reason to wonder what they’d really been doing.
Dinner was much calmer than on the first night when Nicole and Kat had met. But halfway through the salad course, Nicole noticed her purse wasn’t hanging on the back of her chair where she’d left it. In a bit of a panic, she got up and looked around the chair then under the table. It was gone.
“Maybe you left it in your cabin,” Kat suggested.
“No, I’m sure I had it with me.”
“You might be misremembering. I do that all the time. Check your cabin. Here,” she said, starting to get up. “I’ll go with you.”
“That’s not necessary. I can find it by myself.” The words sounded harsh, even to Nicole, so she added, “But thanks for the offer.”
She walked quickly back to her cabin. Fortunately, she’d dropped the key into her coat pocket when she left. She let herself in and looked around for her purse. It wasn’t there. By now she was genuinely worried. Was there a thief on board? When she got back to the table, her purse was on her chair. She looked at Kat, who gave a big smile and gestured toward Tyler Brandt, sitting at the next table.
“The bro found it,” Kat said in a low voice. “You know, he’s not half bad. In fact, he’s kind of growing on me.”
Nicole was silent, quickly checking the contents of her purse. Everything was there—her phone, wallet, the little cash she was carrying.
By now, Tyler had noticed that Nicole was back. He got up and came over to their table.
“Thanks so much,” Nicole said. “Where did you find it?”
“It was under the table.”
“Funny. I looked there.”
“I can see how you missed it,” he said. “It got kicked to the side. But it’s all good. Now I have an excuse to talk to the hottest chicks in the room. Maybe we can get together for a drink after dinner.”
“Oh, yes.” Kat gave him a dazzling smile. “Let’s do.”
“Count me out,” Nicole said. “I’m really tired.” She had no desire to have a drink with Tyler. For one thing, she was certain the purse hadn’t been under the table because she’d taken a thorough look. Had he taken it so he could see what was in it? Why would he do that? In any case, if Kat was attracted to Tyler, she could meet him on her own.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud ding. She looked up to see the captain make the sound again, hitting his glass with a spoon to get the room’s attention. He was late-middle aged, tall, and distinguished looking in his captain’s uniform.
“I have bad news and good news.” His accent was unmistakably Scottish. “Which would you like first?”
There were a few polite chuckles before someone called out, “Let’s have the bad news.”
“All right. Here it is. Because of the tragic accident on Queen of the Volga Tuesday night, the Moscow police have withheld permission for us to leave port. As you remember, our itinerary called for us to leave for our next destination in the morning.”
Someone gave a loud boo. “But here’s the good news,” the captain went on. “We’ve arranged for you to have a free day to explore everything Moscow has to offer. Starting at 8:00, buses will be waiting to take you into the city center for a free day of exploration. We’ll have shuttles back and forth to the ship every hour on the hour until 1500. Your tour guide, Boris, is at the door with a list of suggested walks and sites we didn’t have time to cover in our city tours. We also have a pass that will get you into some museums and attractions free of charge. If you have any questions, I’ll remain at my table after the meal.”
As they walked out, they each took a handout and a museum pass. “I hear the evening entertainment is excellent,” Kat said. “Please come with me. I’m not up for being alone right now.”
“Weren’t you going to have a drink with Tyler?” Nicole said.
“I don’t think so. I don’t know what happened, but he left the dining room before dinner was over. He seemed to be in a hurry. Please come! Staying up a little later might help with your jetlag.”
“OK,” Nicole said. “But first I have to go back to my room. I won’t be long.”
“You aren’t feeling sick, are you?” Kat was all concern. “I knew we shouldn’t have eaten that street food. Do you want me to come with you?”
“It’s nothing,” Nicole said. “I’m fine. I’ll be right back. Save me a seat.” She rushed back to her cabin, made her report, and returned to the event room. The evening’s entertainment involved a troupe of acrobats, their act somewhat hampered by the small dimensions of the stage. When it was over, Nicole and Kat walked back to A-deck together.
Kat chattered about the performance and had more gossip about their fellow passengers. Nicole’s mind was elsewhere. Wherever her targets were going tomorrow, she was determined to follow them. That would be impossible with Kat clinging to her. She had to figure out a way to escape from the bus before anyone else got off. In addition, the captain’s mention of the police investigation had made her anxious. If Kolkov came back for another interview, she’d have
to lie all over again. She just hoped she’d be able to keep her story straight.
Back in her suite, Nicole checked the time. It was 9:30 p.m. Once again, she was exhausted but not the least bit sleepy. She couldn’t remember having a worse case of jet lag. This was her third night in Moscow, and her body clock was still completely off.
She turned on the TV and channel surfed, ending up on RT’s news feed. It was yet another rerun of the broadcast she’d watched earlier. She turned off the set and reached for her iPad to read Little Dorrit. She was approaching the end of book one, but she still had book two to look forward to. At this rate, she figured, the book was good for another two weeks of sleepless nights.
She’d just settled down to read when she noticed the low hum of conversation. It seemed to be coming from the deck behind her cabin. The moment she opened the sliding door to her private deck, a frigid wind blew in. She slid the door closed and put on her coat before stepping outside. By standing on one of the deck chairs, which was a bit wobbly, she was able to see the gathering. The seven people she’d been observing were all there, and an eighth person was just joining them. When the newcomer stepped forward to take a seat, Nicole was stunned to see it was Kat. What on earth was she doing there? The answer was obvious, but Nicole couldn’t wrap her head around it. Kat—one of them? It seemed impossible, yet it made sense. This explained why Kat had been clinging to her, refusing to let Nicole out of her sight. Kat’s story about the fickle fiancé had been a lie. Nicole felt stupid for being so easily taken in.
Nicole thought back to the moment someone brushed against her as she hurried away from the murder scene. It must have been one of the people gathered behind her cabin tonight. If it was, they’d know Nicole had witnessed the murder and must be afraid she’d tell the police. Clearly, she hadn’t told Kolkov when he interviewed her, but perhaps they thought she still might say something—or be taken in by the police and forced to talk. They couldn’t throw her overboard or silence her any other way. That would make the police double down on their investigation. Instead, they must have assigned Kat to keep an eye on her until they figured out what to do.
Her targets were talking in low voices. From her perch on the deck chair, Nicole could hear them. Kat herself was silent. David Wynn and Mayor Bartel seemed to be doing most of the talking. Nicole might have to be able to make out what they were saying if they’d been speaking English. But the language they were using was Russian, or perhaps Ukrainian.
Nicole hurried back inside to get her cell phone. She first set her watch to record. Then she turned off the flash on her cell phone and snapped a photo of the group. The overhead lights weren’t very bright, and she wasn’t sure it would come out, but it was worth a try. She turned on the recording feature. She’d send the recording on the watch to her handler, but the one on her cell was for her own use. She could put it through her phone’s translation app in hopes that their conversation would give her some insight into what these people were up to. Her watch was on her left wrist, and she picked up the phone with her left hand. She climbed on the chair again and leaned against the outer wall of her cabin, where she’d be out of their line of sight. Steadying herself to keep her balance, she held out her left arm, directing the phone and watch so they were facing the group.
After about ten minutes, they got up to leave. They seemed on friendly terms. The women—including Kat—exchanged air kisses; the men hugged and backed pats. Even James Bartel, the mayor, and David Wynn, the grim reaper—the two who’d come to blows in the dining room—parted amiably. No doubt they’d faked the fight. They were pretending to be enemies, while the rest refrained from acknowledging each other in public. It was an act so no one would suspect they were in cahoots. Wynn was using his cadaverous appearance to feign weakness. She wondered if Bartel, the mayor, was faking the Texas twang.
Most of all, she was astonished that Kat could be allied with these people. Apparently, British intelligence had been unaware of her. Maybe she was a late addition, like Nicole herself. Kat might have been added after Derek Swan was killed.
She tried to translate the conversation she’d recorded on her phone. But her cell’s connection was down, and she couldn’t use the app without it. She put in a call to the night manager.
“I am sorry, madam. Police order Wi-Fi shut down.”
“My cell phone can work without Wi-Fi.”
“Yes. But police install—” There was a pause as he reached for the phrase. ”—uh...block on phones.”
“You mean a cell phone jammer?”
“Yes.”
Nicole found this especially alarming. The police had, in effect, cut off the passengers’ communications with the outside world. After hanging up, she wondered if this had to do with the murder or if the police suspected something else was going on. According to Davies, the communication device on her watch worked via satellite and didn’t use a Wi-Fi connection. She had no idea if a cell phone jammer might affect it. She could only try. She sent another message explaining the Wi-Fi outage and cell phone jammer.
“I’m really concerned about what’s going here. I have reason to believe the people I’ve been following are onto me. I need you to get me off this ship ASAP.”
She lay awake until 2:00 a.m., when, at last, she felt the watch subtly vibrate against her wrist. She pushed the button, and the person with the tinny voice greeted her. He, or she, explained that they were sending someone to take her off the ship if she was determined to leave.
“An extraction like this takes time to arrange. The earliest we’ll be able to do it will be tomorrow evening after dark. I doubt you’re in any real danger in the interim. After killing Mr. Swan, these people would be too worried about the police to make an attempt on your life.”
Nicole gave an aggravated sigh. “All right, if that’s the best you can do.”
“Meanwhile,” the voice said, “I wonder if you’d be willing to continue watching your targets—discreetly, of course—and keep us informed. Yeah?”
She thought about it for a long moment. She’d be spending her day in public among other tourists. It seemed fairly safe. “I’ll do it, but remember, I’m leaving this boat tomorrow evening, no later. Promise me.”
“You have my word. I want to thank you, Ms. Graves. You have no idea what a great service you’re doing us.”
§
The next morning, Nicole forced herself to jog around the deck, hoping to clear her head. She was on her second lap, when someone behind her called, “Yoo-hoo! Wait for me!” Nicole turned to see Gina DeSoto, limping in her direction. She was wearing a beige, wide-brimmed hat cocked over one eye. It looked like something she might have borrowed from the hat woman.
Nicole stopped and waited. “We haven’t actually met, but you’re Nicole Graves, right?” When Nicole nodded, Gina went on. “I don’t know if you heard, but the police took me in for questioning the morning after Derek’s death. They asked questions about you.” She paused to snuffle into a tissue.
“About me?” Nicole said. “What did they say?”
Gina ignored the question. “It was terrible. They grilled me for hours. They accused me of being a spy or a terrorist—maybe both. Then they tried to make me confess I had something to do with Derek’s death. One of them pushed me so hard that I fell and hurt my knee. They also gave me this.” She pulled up the brim of her hat to reveal a black eye, which was visible despite her thick makeup. “I was afraid they were going to kill me. I didn’t confess, of course, because I didn’t do anything. I loved Derek. We were talking about getting married.” She dabbed at her eyes again.
“How awful.” Nicole could see Gina had been through something traumatic, although she didn’t completely buy this story. The information she’d been given didn’t identify Gina and Swan as a couple. They were only posing as one. Finally, Nicole said, “Are you an American citizen?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you get in touch with the embassy? Tell them what happened. Maybe t
hey can lodge a complaint so the police will leave you alone.”
“Maybe.” Gina sounded doubtful. “But the reason I stopped you was to warn you. I should have done it yesterday as soon as I got back to the ship, but I was feeling so terrible, and I didn’t know which one you were. I just ran into your friend on my way to breakfast, and she pointed you out.”
“Go on.” Nicole was growing impatient with this drawn-out explanation.
“The police asked if I knew you,” Gina said. “They wanted to know if I saw you engage in any suspicious activity. Things like that.”
“That’s crazy!” Nicole did her best to sound surprised, but she wasn’t. Ever since she’d met Kolkov and he’d asked her about being a private investigator, she’d sensed he thought she was up to something.
“If I were you,” Gina said, “I’d get off this ship as soon as possible and catch a flight home. That’s what I’m going to do—as soon as the police let the ship give our passports back.”
“What do you mean? They can’t withhold our passports. We have to bring them with us when we leave the ship for today’s activities.”
“That’s true, but they’re giving us some other kind of ID to carry until the police are done with us. They’re making sure we don’t leave the country. Be careful. I wouldn’t want you to go through what I did.”
They’d reached the entrance to the dining room, and Gina headed in for breakfast. Nicole decided to go up to her room and change out of her sweats while she thought things over. Was Gina lying about the police department’s interest in her? She knew this group wasn’t much committed to the truth. Once again, she thought of the person who’d brushed against her as she left the murder scene. It must have been one of the people she was watching. They knew she’d witnessed the murder and wanted her off the ship and out of the reach of the Moscow police. Were they trying to frighten her into going home?
The Moscow Affair Page 6