Killer Cruise

by Dawn Brookes

  “Did you enjoy your evening last night?” asked Marjorie.

  “It was incredibly noisy, but the tribute band was surprisingly good. My father was a fan of Queen in their early days so I’m familiar with some of their music. He keeps it secret from his parishioners, though.”

  “I don’t see why. I am pleased I didn’t come, though; I’m not a fan of loud pop music. Give me Brahms any day of the week. So the rather rude Dominic Venables managed to sober up in time, did he?”

  “I couldn’t swear to him being sober, but he did deign to turn up, fifteen minutes late, just as the crowd was getting agitated about the wait. It could have been a ploy for all I know, although the new cruise director looked stressed out of his head. Sarah said he’d had a bad first sea day. Anyway, that’s enough about the obnoxious Dom if you don’t mind? What would you like to do today, Marjorie?”

  “Nothing too strenuous, if that’s alright? Perhaps a look at the Little Mermaid as she’s not long returned from touring the globe, I understand, and then changing of the guard at the palace. I’m happy to take a taxi if you want to do something more exciting, though.”

  “Nope, that sounds very good to me. I had quite a late night.”

  Rachel took a quick shower after breakfast and dressed in cropped denim jeans, a faded jade t-shirt and a pair of white Doc Martin sandals. Marjorie looked quintessentially British in a dark-blue summer skirt and jacket with a pair of fitted beige open-toed shoes and handbag to match. The cotton floral print blouse with colours that enhanced her outfit finished it off to a tee. Rachel admired her friend’s dress sense. Marjorie always took time over her appearance and rarely had a hair out of place. Her white hair, recently permed, accentuated her almost regal demeanour. She could have been a duchess as well as a lady.

  “I feel positively underdressed,” she said forlornly.

  “You look beautiful, my dear, as you always do.”

  “Not as glamorous as you, but it’s too late for me to change now anyway.”

  Rachel took the old lady’s arm and they headed towards the central lifts and down to deck three where they could leave the ship via security and makeshift steps. The ship’s photographers were strategically positioned on the dockside, offering to take photos before passengers left for their outings. The happy duo obliged, before ambling along towards the building that formed the port’s customs.

  Just before they entered through a pair of open doors, the noise of someone gasping behind her caused Rachel to swing round. Following the gasping woman’s gaze, she looked on in horror as a body hurtled downwards, towards the sea from somewhere near the top of the ship. A few other passengers had turned around too, and soon afterwards there was a loud splash.

  Pandemonium followed and one of the passengers screamed. A life buoy was thrown into the water from one of the lower decks and the man overboard siren sounded. Two officers and a dock worker dived into the black water.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please move along.” An officer quickly took charge and directed passengers away from the scene, while others screened off the area. Marjorie looked at Rachel.

  “Was that who I think it was?”

  “It certainly looked like it, but I didn’t get a good enough look. It all happened so quickly. The jumpsuit looked about right, though.”

  They were hurriedly escorted towards the exit and, accepting there was nothing they could do, they complied, agreeing to continue with their day.

  “It looks as though we’ll have another ‘accident’ to look into after all. When we get back, that is.”

  There was a mischievous twinkle in Marjorie’s eye. Rachel groaned aloud.

  “This can’t be happening.”

  Chapter 5

  Rachel and Marjorie enjoyed their visits to the main tourist attractions in Copenhagen, and Marjorie was particularly pleased that the Little Mermaid statue had been returned to her rightful place.

  “She certainly is well named,” remarked Rachel, surprised at how small the statue actually was. “I don’t understand why, but I imagined she’d be bigger somehow.”

  “I was surprised too, the first time I saw her, but I expect that’s why she’s called the Little Mermaid,” Marjorie teased.

  After taking some photos, they wandered around the harbour for a while, watching the changing of the guard at the Amalienborg Palace at midday before stopping for lunch.

  “That was interesting, but I have to say the one at Buckingham Palace beats it by a country mile,” commented Rachel.

  “Ah yes, well that does take some beating. No-one does pomp and ceremony quite like the British – not that I’m biased. Here in Copenhagen, it is much more spectacular when the Danish queen is in residence, usually in the winter months.”

  The day glowed with brilliant sunlight and temperatures hovering around the twenty-two degree mark, making it pleasant but not too hot for Marjorie. Rachel recognised that her elderly friend looked tired after taking a walk around the Tivoli Gardens following lunch. Although still spritely for her eighty-six years and able to walk with the assistance of a stick for lengthy periods on the flat, she was slowing down.

  “Would you like to return to the ship?”

  “Not yet, dear. However, I am happy to rest a while. If we can find an English newspaper, you can park me at that hotel over there and then you can go exploring by yourself, if that’s agreeable?”

  They walked to the hotel near to the Tivoli Gardens and not too far from the river front. The concierge found a copy of the Daily Telegraph in English for Marjorie to read. After finding plush cushioned seats in the rather opulent lounge, Rachel ordered tea for the old lady.

  “This reminds me of the ship’s atrium,” she remarked. “Are you certain you’ll be alright?”

  “Absolutely, I will catch up on the news from Blighty and enjoy a nice cup of tea. You go and enjoy yourself.” Marjorie picked up the newspaper and soon became engrossed.

  Rachel left the grand hotel and walked along the river front admiring the beautifully vibrant painted buildings that lined the area. She was considering returning to the hotel to join Marjorie when she heard English voices coming from a café to her right. There, seated at a table outside, she saw Brigitte and Gwen, Sarah’s nurse colleagues, wearing mufti as they were obviously on shore leave for the day.

  Gwen saw Rachel and stood up.

  “Rachel, how nice to see you. Sarah told us you were on board with Lady Snellthorpe. Is she with you?” The Australian senior nurse gave Rachel a warm hug.

  “We came out together, but I left her resting down the road at the Nimb Hotel while I did a bit more exploring.”

  Brigitte, the French nurse who Rachel had met on her first cruise, stood and gave her the traditional air kiss while touching each cheek, French style.

  “Please join us, we were just about to order,” Gwen invited.

  Rachel sat down. “I will thank you.”

  Gwen handed her a menu. “What will you have? Our treat.”

  “Much appreciated. I guess as I’m in Denmark, I ought to have a Danish pastry.”

  “Ah, but which one?” Brigitte teased, going on to explain the many varieties of Danish pastry options while pointing out the more popular ones on the menu.

  “Wow! I never knew that. I’m going to have the Snegl with cinnamon – that’s the one I’m familiar with back home.”

  The waiter came to take their order.

  “I’ll have a croissant,” Brigitte told him.

  “And I’ll have the Spandauer Danish, I love custard,” Gwen explained. Rachel ordered her Snegl, and they all requested tea.

  “How’s your father?” Rachel asked Brigitte, aware he had been involved in a car accident the previous summer when the nurse had been called home at short notice.

  “He is well now, thank you. Back to his normal bossy self so I’m glad to be back at sea.”

  “What about you, Rachel? How are you?” asked Gwen.

  “I’m good, thanks. Started a new j
ob in January – a new year, a fresh start. I’m working in north London, but living in a West End apartment thanks to Marjorie.”

  “That sounds expensive.”

  “It would be totally unaffordable, but Marjorie is glad to have someone living in it so she charges me a silly rent.”

  “I expect it’s her way of paying you back for saving her life. How’s the job in London, is it busy?”

  “Incredibly, but I knew it would be when I took it. I’m working towards my sergeant’s exams as well – glutton for punishment. The move to London means I’m closer to Carlos and following the near-miss and persistent threats from a man I helped put away for murder, it seemed like the right time to move.” She had been a police constable for almost two years and still enjoyed her work, although it presented many challenges.

  “I heard about that man. I do hope you don’t have to use your sleuthing skills on this cruise.” Brigitte laughed.

  “We have been relatively quiet in terms of corpses,” Gwen interjected light heartedly. “Since your last cruise, we haven’t used the morgue next to the medical centre, but when Sarah said you were on board, Bernard warned us there was bound to be a body.”

  “Bernard has a wicked sense of humour.” Rachel grimaced. “I guess you left the ship early this morning then?”

  “You’re not kidding! Yes, we like to take full advantage of shore leave when we get it,” said Brigitte.

  Gwen picked up on Rachel’s serious expression and the guarded comment. “What do you mean by then? Has something happened?”

  Rachel felt like a Grinch for upsetting the two nurses’ day out, but explained what she and Marjorie had witnessed when standing at the dockside before leaving.

  “Oh my goodness, Rachel! Did you find out what happened?” Brigitte exclaimed.

  “No, we were ushered away pretty sharpish. A couple of officers dived into the water after the person – it appeared to be a man. In fact, I’m almost certain it was the lead singer of the Queen tribute band, Dom somebody or other, but that was only because of the white jumpsuit – it could have been anyone. I didn’t notice which deck he fell from, but he wasn’t flailing, which makes me wonder.”

  “I can’t believe it,” said Gwen, staring at Rachel closely as if to check whether she was winding them up.

  Rachel shrugged her shoulders. “I seem to have that effect on the Coral.”

  “Do you think we should go back?” Brigitte asked Gwen.

  “No, from what Rachel described, once he’s dragged out of the water, he’ll be transferred to hospital. If the worst has happened – well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  Brigitte looked relieved. “In that case, I’m going to tuck in to my croissant,” she said as the food arrived.

  “What did you mean by that flailing remark, Rachel? Are you suggesting it wasn’t an accident?” Gwen enquired.

  “Not sure – it could have been. You know me, never satisfied unless there’s a suspicious death to solve.” Rachel could tell that Gwen wasn’t convinced by the answer, but decided to stick with it as she didn’t want to be responsible for ruining their day any more than she had already.

  Rachel stayed with the two nurses for an hour, talking about other things, before deciding it was time to leave.

  “I’d better go and find Marjorie in case she thinks I’ve got lost. It was lovely to meet you again – tell Sarah I’ll meet her tonight.”

  “Will do. We’re just going to visit an ice bar before returning to the ship.”

  “Oh, Sarah’s hoping to take me to one of those when we get to Finland. Enjoy yourselves, I’m sure we’ll catch up later.”

  Rachel left the two women and headed back to the Nimb Hotel. When she arrived, her friend was sitting comfortably, chatting to another elderly lady.

  “There you are.” Marjorie smiled. “I was wondering if I needed to send out a search party! Rachel, this is Gloria. Gloria’s staying in Copenhagen for a week with her husband.”

  “How do you do?” Rachel greeted a short, casually dressed woman in her seventies. The woman had smiling blue eyes, dyed auburn hair and wore heavy makeup and lipstick.

  “Hello there. Marjorie has been telling me all about you and your antics on board cruise ships.” Gloria shook Rachel’s hand, speaking with a pleasantly lilting Welsh accent. Embarrassed, Rachel blushed – she didn’t want to discuss murderous cruises. Marjorie understood and piped up.

  “Well, it’s time we returned to our trusty steed, Rachel. We don’t want to miss the boat, now, do we?” She couldn’t resist turning back to Gloria and whispering, “Especially when there’s been another murder.”

  “Get away with you,” rebuked Gloria, not sure whether to take Marjorie seriously.

  Marjorie winked at Rachel and then pulled herself up from the seat, straightening herself to get her balance before taking Rachel’s arm.

  “Did you hear my bones creak then?” Not waiting for an answer, she turned to her new friend. “It was good to meet you, Gloria. Enjoy the rest of your stay. You chose the right hotel, I must say – the service has been excellent.”

  Gloria stood up and shook both women’s hands. “It’s been a pleasure, Marjorie, and don’t forget, you’d be welcome in Carmarthen anytime.”

  “Thank you,” answered Marjorie. Turning to Rachel as they left the hotel, she asked, “Did you have a nice time?”

  “I did, I took a lovely walk along the river and bumped into Gwen and Brigitte. Do you remember them? They asked after you.”

  “I do remember them, very well. Brigitte is the French nurse who looked after me when I was in the infirmary and Gwen is the Sister. There’s nothing wrong with these grey cells yet. Have they ascertained what happened to the person who fell overboard?”

  “No, they didn’t even know about it – they left early to ensure they got a full day out, but Gwen says that he would most likely be admitted to hospital in Copenhagen if he survived the fall, so nothing for them to worry about. If it was a fall.”

  “Oh no, Rachel, surely not? I was only joking when I said we would need to investigate, but I can see you’ve got that look in your eye.” Marjorie smiled up at Rachel. “You don’t think he fell at all, do you?”

  Rachel was thoughtful. She had been pondering the man overboard scene they had witnessed and rewinding it over and over in her mind.

  “I can’t be certain, but no, he plummeted too quietly and too quickly. In fact, if it hadn’t been for that woman gasping and our line of sight, no-one would have even noticed.”

  Marjorie sensed Rachel’s need to mull things over in her mind and squeezed her arm before sighing.

  “Let’s get back, then, shall we?”

  It was only after speaking about the falling man to Gwen and Brigitte, and now Marjorie that Rachel had come to the conclusion that he was probably unconscious when he went overboard. She would want to discuss it with the chief of security, Jack Waverley, whom she had met on the two previous cruises that turned out to be deadly. Waverley and Rachel had developed a mutual respect, although he wasn’t always happy with her involvement in his investigations – the main reason being her passenger status. He’d offered her a job on his security team on both occasions, but she had declined. There were times when she would love to be working as a security officer on a cruise ship with the travel opportunities that it offered, but she had initially felt the need to consolidate her police training with practical work, and more recently she hated the thought of being away from Carlos for the amount of time that would be required if she took up this line of work. Carlos worked as a private investigator, and although this meant he travelled away at times, most cruise ship contracts were six to nine months.

  On arriving back at the Coral Queen, Rachel and Marjorie discovered all was normal.

  “You wouldn’t imagine anything had happened this morning,” remarked Marjorie.

  Rachel could see exactly what she meant. Passengers were returning to the ship, and the crew welcomed
them back with iced flannels and refreshments, just as they always did before the passengers climbed the steps to pass through security on rejoining the ship. It was surreal in many ways, considering what they had witnessed just six hours ago.

  “If we hadn’t seen it with our own eyes, we just wouldn’t know,” said Rachel, taking in a deep breath. Instead of heading for the gangway and steps, they walked to the front of the ship where they had seen the man fall. All was calm in the dark black water; Rachel spotted fish swimming near to the surface, but other than that, it was pretty murky.

  Probably polluted from all the ships sailing in and out of the harbour.

  Rachel looked upwards, re-enacting the scene in her mind’s eye, but try as she might, she couldn’t determine which deck he’d fallen from.

  “Definitely higher than deck twelve,” she said out loud. “The top of that crane was about level with him when I spotted him falling. He was also higher than that suspended platform there where the crewman is painting. Although he’s moved around from where he was this morning, he’s at the same level.”

  “Yes, I noticed him too,” said Marjorie. “I remember thinking to myself that the crew always seems to be painting something or other outside when the ship is docked. I imagine cruise ships are painted more than any other vessel. Do you suppose it’s necessary or to give them something to do?”

  “You’re right, now you mention it, there is always painting going on. I expect it’s to stop corrosion from the salt water and other pollutants.” Rachel’s mind was elsewhere. She was only half concentrating on the topic of ship maintenance procedures as she was still picturing the falling body from this morning. “I wonder if that crewman noticed anything. He’s quite high up so he might have.”

  “I doubt it, my dear, listen to all that racket going on from those cranes working over there, and the machinery was hard at it this morning. They began at eight o’clock when I sat on my balcony, and we’re at the back of the ship where there isn’t as much activity as there is here.”