Murder on Board

by Mark Rice

  I felt a weight lift off my chest knowing an innocent man was now free. Maybe this will be the end of it?

  The Palace Restaurant was a very pleasant place to dine and one that lives in a parallel universe to the 09:00 version. At 07:40 there were no queues, very few people and you take your pick of tables. I chose one by the window. The sun shone brightly in the sky, spreading its beams in an ever increasing arc across the rippling blue sea water. It warms my arm and is too bright for me to look directly at. I just admire the strong shadows it casts and enjoy the steady gentle rhythm of the ship as it cuts its way through the sea like a knife through butter.

  Margaret was up and dressed when I entered the cabin. We went straight to the tennis court to get a couple of games in before bagging two sun loungers and heading to bridge class.

  Susan turned up late only to tell us she was not going to be with us in the beginner’s class from now on, a relief for all parties.

  Afterwards, I sat with Margaret and Jennifer for coffee and then we all went our separate ways. Margaret set off to find a free washing machine and I went sunbathing for a while. Noon came too soon and I reluctantly joined the lads in the choir for a men-only rehearsal.

  I can't say I hear much improvement in the singing. Can't Help Falling in Love still puts the tenors into falsetto territory and I suspect David will gloss over it by having Tony sing with us on the day. America, a song we had a good grasp of has gone bad with the harmonies now added in and sounds dreadful.

  David asked and got four volunteers to sing solo in There is Nothin’ Like a Dame.

  We exited as the registration for the passenger’s talent competition was starting and I knew Geoff planned to go solo with a song for that and the men’s bass team were giving it a bash too. Up top, on the open deck the sun was shining but the pools were still cordoned off.

  At 14:00, at the pool, the ship’s departments competed against each other in a tug of war.

  At 15:00 in the netted cricket court the ship’s crew played the passengers in a challenge cricket match that the crew won easily. Both events attracted large crowds of watchers.

  We sunbathed the afternoon through and eventually headed for the cabin. On the way we visited Reception and registered our wish to self exit at 10:10 on Wednesday.

  For a treat and to find out why anyone would pay £16 each extra to eat there, we’d booked an early bird at the Spice restaurant, the ships Indian restaurant. With the special offer, we were given a free bottle of Octavian Cruises house wine. The restaurant and staff are dressed differently to mark them out from the normal restaurants and obviously the menu was different if not superior to our normal food. We ate with brass cutlery and two hours later we rose from the table, stuffed to bursting. Jennifer and Gwen had come in after us and, looking around before leaving, I noticed the restaurant had filled up since our arrival. The ship’s officers occupied two tables. The International Piano Duo had discovered partners for at least a meal and who knows what else.

  Afterwards, we had a choice between a classical female in the Gaiety Theatre or the three West end leading ladies performing in the Pacific Lounge. We chose the girls and played cards to pass the time until they appeared.

  Singing to backing tracks, they covered music by the Andrews Sisters and the Beverley Sisters and sang songs from musicals they had had leading roles in such as Grease and Les Miserables. From the off, they sought audience participation and three men were enlisted to dance and then another three were dragged up to sit in chairs and be flirted with. They finished with the Rule Britannia and Land of Hope and Glory and the room became a sea of waving Union Jacks while the passengers bellowed out the songs ingrained in their memories since birth.

  Despite other offers we quit for bed. The clocks advanced once more overnight and we will soon be back on GMT time. It was also the first night without anti-malaria tablets. Hopefully Margaret was heading for a peaceful night.

  Day 46

  Friday 17th February.

  At sea and heading for Tenerife, Canary Islands.

  Margaret, was a bit frosty first thing this morning. "I told you to wake me at 08:00, not 06:30!"

  I hugged the icy one and she falls back to sleep until I press the defrost button at 08:06 and gently wake the slumbering grouch. Once showered, dressed and ready for the day Margaret is her usual bouncy self. Especially when we get three games of tennis in and she wins all of them.

  The beginner’s bridge class goes well despite my poor play and everyone seems happy. Shirley, Brendan's wife is very chatty and we learn a lot while she plays on the table. Brendan himself is teaching the class and is largely back to his old self, which could never be described as cheerful. Several class regulars approach him afterwards to say just how pleased they are to see him back and he thanks them for their words.

  Afterwards, we have coffee with Jennifer who is happy to chat and for the company.

  We eat lunch and were sunbathing in the secret area in front of the gym when the PA system announces that the afternoon variety show would be starting in fifteen minutes in the Gaiety Theatre.

  So, with myself dressed only in flip flops, pink shorts and a flowery T-shirt and Margaret in a swimsuit, we attend. The theatre is surprisingly full. The show consists of the SS Azara orchestra, and the Topstars singers. I must say they were all brilliant. David, the musical conductor, played one of his own compositions in a solo slot and I could easily see his music being featured in nature documentaries, for example. I couldn't help noticing that a lot of people were dressed in long trousers and jumpers, for the first time in almost fifty days.

  We made our way back outside to the open deck and the oasis pool with its remaining four sun bathers determined to savour the last rays of the todays sun. Down we stepped into the pool which was unusually warm, as if to reward our persistence and we lingered there as long as we dared, for the final days of the cruise were coming into sight and it would be many months before we enjoyed this experience again.

  We exited our cabin in our finest, for the final black tie evening dinner, the fourteenth on this cruise. We stopped in the atrium for the photographic team to pose us and take a few pictures. Then it was on to the dinner gang and our three ever smiling and dutiful waiters.

  Most of the table plumped for Marco Pierre White's full meal menu which featured half a lobster in the main course. It was a filling meal and the conversation was lively.

  Margaret brought Brendan’s good news to the table. “He’s been released and was at the bridge classes today!”

  “Fantastic” said Mary “You know I spoke with him once when we shared a coach to the NASA space centre and he seemed a lovely man.”

  “Yes,” interrupted Roger. “He’s been freed all right, but I’ve an open mind about the matter.” And he left his statement hanging about for a moment before adding with a shrug of his shoulders, “All the evidence still points his way... I’m just saying.”

  “Does his release mean they have someone else in custody?” asked Jill. Good question I thought.

  Before Roger could answer, the PA system crackled into life and, for the next ten minutes, the dance song I Got a Feeling blasted out as the thirty plus cooks that prepare seven thousand meals a day appeared, filing through the large restaurant in their white uniforms, chef hats and aprons. They were applauded all the way but I just wanted to hear Roger’s bloody answer.

  Who is now in the frame for the murders?

  “No, it doesn’t,” answered Roger eventually. “But I have been told that the Octavian Cruises Head of Security boarded in Parintins, several days ago now and he is intending to interview all the passengers and crew before we dock in Southampton.”

  He glanced around the table. “It appears from all your faces that he has yet to interview you.”

  “So has he started then, Roger?” asked Frank. “Interviewing I mean.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Roger. “I believe he started with the crew and I expect we’ll all be called in over the ne
xt day or two. He’s interviewing on board because the killer or killers are definitely still on this ship, right now. Secondly, if the interviews were left until we’d landed he’d disrupt the onward travel arrangements of thousands of passengers and crew. Just a few minutes given up now will save a bucket load of hassle later.”

  “I wondered why the Brazilian authorities hadn’t halted the cruise in Manaus,” said Frank.

  “Ah, good point, Frank,” answered Roger. “It appears the Brazilian authorities were told by someone in Octavian Cruises that the crime had occurred in international waters and so not within their jurisdiction. Now, I don’t believe that is the case at all but it would have been hugely expensive to Octavian Cruises if the ship was held up for days in Manaus. It would mean paying compensation for passengers as certain stops would just be cut from the remaining cruise and worse still if the delay was much longer then the ship, crew and passengers could all be in the wrong place by the end date. This could threaten the next cruise that starts the day we return to Southampton and, of course, it would mean flying passengers home.”

  This was indeed bad news from my perspective, but, on the plus side, the detective doesn’t seem to have any leads to follow, other than Brendan’s foolish yet accurate link of the deaths to the bridge class. The lab tests may give some understanding as to the nature of the poison used, but any connection to me has been flushed away through the ships waste system or is floating in the sea a few thousand miles behind in the wake of the SS Azara.

  My mind was racing, but I think I managed to keep up appearances and focus on the night in hand, parking the worrying until later.

  We trooped out of the restaurant to review the latest crop of photographs from the ships photographic team. Then we joined an endless stream of smartly dressed folk walking to the Gaiety Theatre for Jimmy Juttles second show. He didn't disappoint and neither did the SS Azara orchestra. He may not have a powerful voice but he has that unique soul phrasing in spades. His small chat between numbers was awkward, particularly trying to imply that David, the musical director, was drinking all afternoon. David then threatened in joke fashion to walk off the stage. Though Jimmy’s singing was smooth and sincere his nervousness was obvious. "You'll have to help me with this one," was regularly spoken to the audience and of course they did, every time.

  With Margaret still awake and in good spirits, we relocated upstairs to the Hawks Inn where the Lorcan Bond Trio were providing a gentle wind down to the day with a jazzy piano and smooth vocal sound delivering timeless classics to the black suit and sparkly dressed mature audience.

  Lorcan though under the weather and reaching for a hanky frequently, performed without a sniff or sniffle. With his white five string bass strapped high to his chest, he sang in his own high pitched voice while plucking the strings with nimble dexterity.

  Thomas, the pianist explored the deeper off key recesses of the white Steinway piano that his fingers flew over, and Ray on drums provided that rhythmic backbone all tunes need.

  Day 47

  Saturday 18th February.

  Docked in Santa Cruz, Tenerife, Canary Islands.

  The Canary Islands are just off the west coast of Africa and sit in the Atlantic Ocean. We are back in Euro land.

  During the night I had a bad dream. It was set in my parent’s home. The house was empty, just as we had it in the last days, before the legal completion of the sale. In the dream, I knew that both my parents were dead several years and I was alone. I gazed out of a bedroom window yet I looked out onto the view I'd actually have got from standing in the kitchen. The concrete patio outside the window looked freshly laid and someone had stepped on the freshly laid concrete leaving a single large boot mark. I could see the grooved tread of the boot now engraved forever into the concrete. I then turned and was now in the hall, outside the bathroom and there, just appearing from the study, came a huge, menacing man. I've never seen anyone like him in my life but I knew he was here to kill me. I tried to scream out loud but what came from my mouth was merely a whimper. He saw me and, rather than advancing towards me, he turned to go back into the study and I knew he was seeking a weapon to kill me with. I turned away, my heart pounding, to see what I could find to defend myself but the bedroom behind me was empty. I woke up in the bed of our cabin, my clothing saturated with sweat.

  I decided to get up and sit in the bathroom until I felt I could go back to sleep. Two and a half hours later and I was still there.

  Maybe I did have some side effects from the anti-malaria tablets after all?

  Or maybe Roger’s news of the detective now onboard has affected my subconscious?

  The ship docked in Tenerife just as dawn was breaking. We showered, dressed and played a few games of tennis after breakfast, before heading for the town. The harbour contains three large cruise ships and a Frank Olson car ferry. Down the gange plank located in midships we went and then boarded a shuttle bus that drove to the terminal building and dropped us beyond it at a nondescript grey building. We got out and walked forward, in the wrong direction, as neither the coach driver nor Octavian Cruises had bothered to indicate which direction the city centre was in. There had been a lot of building work in the harbour area and new roads and building had made the area unfamiliar to us, even though we last visited it only eighteen months ago. We eventually found the main shopping street and a bistro with Wi-Fi. We sat outside and enjoyed two tall glasses of ice-cold lagers. Geoff and Sarah found us there and sat down for a chat and a drink. They knew the town well and were off to meet their son Andrew for lunch. We talked about the eventful cruise now almost over.

  “Its been an extraordinary cruise by anyone’s standards” said Geoff.

  “And you take that any way you want too” added Sarah. “I mean the sights, the rough seas, the passengers and the huge number of deaths. I’ve never known a cruise like it.”

  “When we signed up for this cruise” Margaret said “I specifically chose Octavian Cruises because of their renowned safety record but look what’s happened? Outbreaks of the Novo virus, large scale food poisoning, lifeboats crashing into each other, passengers left behind as we sailed. It’s been one disaster after another. I certainly won’t be recommending Octavian cruises to my friends anytime soon. They should be renamed Calamity Cruises!”

  “Have you two met the detective yet?” Geoff asked easing back into his chair and watching the passing shoppers.

  “No, not yet. Have you?” I asked leaning forward to take a sip of my beer.

  “No, not yet but I heard he’s been busy and has been working his way through the crew. He’s been given an office near the Medical Centre I believe.” Geoff answered, before glancing at his watch and gesturing to Sarah. “C’mon old girl, finish up that coffee. We must get cracking. Andrew will have a fit if we’re late for lunch.”

  We go our separate ways and we pick up some T-shirts for our neighbours back home as gifts for minding our car and house. By 14:00 with most of the shops closing for a siesta we head back to the ship.

  We eat lunch on our return and I played some serious tennis with Arthur, Bill and Harry. Harry is seventy-five years old and a regular tennis player. He challenged me, twenty odd years younger, to a singles match which he proceeds to take deadly seriously. I had to run like a demented rabbit to subdue this stubborn older player.

  Afterwards, I join Margaret, Jennifer and her friend Gwen for the final half hour of the Great British Sail Away, which involved Last night of the Proms type sing-alongs. The Union Jack flags were waved vigorously and passengers bellowed out Irish, English, Scottish and Welsh songs as we sailed out and away from Tenerife. The party ended with Queen's We Are the Champions, and Status Quo's Rockin’ All over the World. I knocked back a couple of cans of John Smiths Bitter as I had an enormous thirst following the hours of tennis. Passengers broke up into smaller groups still dancing and singing to their own songs as the party wound down and people began to slip away.

  Dinner tonight was casual and we dr
essed quickly. I took a seat next to Rose and she was happy to chat about her knee and hip operations, both successful. Roger talked easily to Margaret. Frank traded jokes with Craig. Mary and Jill chatted quietly about knitting.

  “I met the detective today,” said Frank.

  “Me too,” said Roger

  “And me,” sparked up Jill.

  “Snap,” said Rose “He’s moving fast isn’t he!”

  “He’ll have to be,” said Frank. “He’s got a lot of people to see.”

  “What’s he like?” asked Craig.

  “An older man, coming up to retirement I’d reckon” said Roger. Frank nodded his head in agreement. “Looking back on it, I reckon his approach was to just ask a few questions and then sit back to see what I would say.”

  “Questions about what?” asked Craig. I’m so pleased he was taking the lead here because he was doing my job for me.

  Roger spoke up, “Well he had my passport details and the ship booking details in amongst his paperwork, which sat on the side of his desk, so he focused his questions to me on where I was on the day before the poisoning and on the day of the poisoning. It’s now so far back in the cruise that I struggled to recall.

  Frank butted in. “Yeah, all the days at sea tended to merge in my memory too so I answered a bit vaguely. I mean who keeps a daily diary these days?”

  I hoped Margaret wouldn’t drop me in it. I glanced in her direction but she was now deep in conversation with Mary and Rose and hadn’t heard Franks comment.

  “I don’t know anyone anal enough to record daily life on a holiday cruise with a bunch of pensioners.” said Roger. They both laughed at the absurdity of such a pointless activity.