by Dawn Brookes
As they passed through security, they saw Waverley hanging around in the background. He nodded curtly, indicating not to speak, so they passed on by.
“I wonder what he’s up to,” said Marjorie when they alighted the lift on deck four and headed to Creams Patisserie, one of their favourite haunts.
“Not sure,” said Rachel. “It wouldn’t surprise me if it’s to do with Gordon Venables. I was thinking about the whole situation with him last night and something doesn’t sit right.”
“I thought the same,” said Sarah. “Either Waverley’s lost his marbles or he’s up to something.”
“Oh, you mean he might be using him as a kind of bait,” said Marjorie.
“Something like that, because even if Dom Venables did imagine he was a bird and try to fly off the balcony, the attack on Gordon was very real. I can assure you of that from the residual pain in my shoulder. There’s still the evidence that Dom was unconscious on hitting the water, which they all seem to be conveniently forgetting.”
“I think you’re right,” said Marjorie. “Of course, he’s putting Gordon out there to see if there’s another attack on his life. But Waverley told us he was short-staffed – surely he doesn’t have spare security guards who can follow him?”
“They have caught the thief stealing jewellery from passenger rooms, which has helped,” Sarah explained. “Sadly it was a cabin steward whose contract hadn’t been renewed. We all hate it when any of the crew commits crimes like that – it looks bad on us all.”
“A bit like corruption in the police force,” said Rachel grimly. “And there seems to be far too much of that if you ask me.”
“So the stateroom steward was taking an unofficial bonus.” Marjorie cackled.
“It’s not funny,” scolded Sarah.
“It’s not the end of the world either, dear. Expensive jewellery should be locked in the safe or in the purser’s office, so a few knick-knacks are hardly going to break the bank for the majority of passengers.”
“It’s not that, it’s the breach of trust,” argued Sarah.
“Sarah’s right,” said Rachel. “You need to be able to trust the crew.”
“I’ve lived long enough to accept that isn’t always possible, and when you remember the poverty many stewards leave behind in their homelands, it might be the temptation is too great. After all, cruise ships are the epitome of luxurious extravagance, aren’t they?”
Rachel caught the naughty twinkle in Marjorie’s eye, but could sense indignation building in Sarah so she felt it a good time to change the subject.
“Where do you suppose Dave Hughes was today?”
“I overheard one of the guys saying when they got back to the ship that he had a hangover and stayed behind, although the groom-to-be joked about it being funny that Tonya was also ill today.”
“Ah,” said Marjorie. “A secret liaison.”
“Not that secret by the sounds of it,” added Rachel.
They finished their pastries and teas before heading back to their respective rooms to change for dinner.
“I’m on call tonight, so I’ll catch you tomorrow,” said Sarah. “Let me know if you get anywhere with the Gordon thing, though.”
“Will do,” agreed Rachel as she kissed her friend on the cheek. “Where’s Jason, by the way?”
“I’m not sure, working somewhere. He caught the jewellery thief,” Sarah answered proudly.
Before Marjorie could say anything, Rachel took her arm and led her towards the lifts where they turned to wave to Sarah.
“I wasn’t going to tease her any further, you know,” Marjorie declared.
“Of course not.” Rachel winked.
The next morning, Rachel and Marjorie split up to follow their respective action plans. Rachel stopped by Waverley’s office after breakfast. The security chief looked chipper, radiating a newfound confidence.
“Good morning, Rachel. I just wanted to tell you we have dropped the investigation into Dominic Venables’s death.”
Open mouthed, Rachel found herself speechless.
“In the light of the drugs business and his general state, the company has, erm, advised me to rule out foul play from our end.”
Rachel recognised what was happening. “How convenient,” she said.
A momentary frown crossed the chief’s face and Rachel suspected he was not altogether happy with this outcome either, but would have to toe the party line.
“As for the attack on Gordon Venables and yourself,” he coughed, “that investigation continues. Our main line of inquiry is that it was one of the band, suspecting Gordon had killed their friend.”
“What about Dave Hughes?”
“Unlikely. He would have been recovering from the assault on himself, so I don’t think he would have gone near his uncle so soon afterwards.”
“Does Gordon realise yet he has a nephew?”
“No, Mr Hughes doesn’t want Gordon Venables told. He wants to put the whole thing behind him and get on with his life.”
“Also convenient,” Rachel murmured.
“Pardon?”
“Nothing. Did you find out when the new lead singer boarded?”
Waverley reached for a piece of paper on his desk. “A red herring, I’m afraid. Mr and Mrs Travers boarded on the afternoon of our arrival in Tallinn and moved to the crew quarters on deck A.”
“The afternoon, you say? That can’t be right. I saw them in the morning.”
“You are mistaken, Rachel, they boarded at 3.30pm.”
Rachel took out her mobile phone and pulled up the photo, placing the phone down deliberately on Waverley’s desk.
“Is that a mistake, then?”
The furrowed brow showed confusion penetrating the previously happy face of the chief of security.
“When was this taken?”
“You can see from the time and date stamp, I snapped it on the morning in question, while you were speaking to the band members and before you spoke to me and Sarah.”
He picked up her phone and enlarged the image with his fingers on the screen. He tapped names into his computer and pulled up the photos of the new lead singer and his wife. They both compared the images.
“Unless they are twin brothers married to twin sisters, I would say they are the same couple,” said Rachel triumphantly.
Waverley slumped back in his chair. “I don’t understand this at all. I will look into the matter, but it still has no bearing on the death of Dominic Venables. Accidental death.”
“You can’t believe that?” Rachel was astonished.
“I can and I do. Leave it with me – if I find out anything, I’ll come back to you. It’s probably a computer error on the boarding time, we do get the odd glitches in the system.”
Rachel left, frustrated and angry.
“Insufferable arrogance of the man! Sheer blind stupidity.”
This type of frustration was becoming a regular visitor to her life. Conversations with Carlos leapt into her mind about incidents at work where closing cases sometimes got in the way of finding the truth. Compromises she was uncomfortable with sprang up like a geyser ready to explode.
She found herself walking briskly towards her next destination, the determined look in her eyes a warning to anyone not to test her resolve. She would get to the bottom of the death of Dominic Venables, which was no more an accident than her being hit over the head and pushed into the pool. He may not have been a likeable character, and was apparently a junkie to boot, but that didn’t mean his murderer shouldn’t be brought to justice.
Rachel marched into the Sky View Lounge. The stag group happened to be participating in a marshmallow eating competition. Her indignation rose as she saw Gordon officiating.
This fiasco is getting worse.
Slamming herself down in a seat close to the front, she drew a nervous stare from a nearby couple. After taking a few deep calming breaths, she regained her composure and requested mineral water from a waiter, smiling reassuring
ly at the couple who tentatively looked away.
Her focus turned to the spectacle in front of her. The participants had to place as many marshmallows in their mouths as they could without chewing or swallowing, and the one who could hold the most at once was the winner. A few of them gave up fairly quickly and graciously accepted defeat, but the more competitive continued with the sickening display. Gordon and his assistant watched for any attempts at swallowing and Rachel noticed buckets nearby in case any of them threw up.
Gross!
Rachel could have gagged a few times herself in spite of having a fairly healthy stomach. The couple nearby retreated after the woman began to look a little green.
Gordon looked smug at being reinstated as cruise director and he gave Rachel a huge smile and a wave. Her smile hid the contempt she felt over his behaviour towards his wife – he had no idea she was aware – and her disgust that he had been allowed to go back to work as if nothing had happened after attacking one of the men now participating in the competition. Her smile was more at the irony of the situation.
It seemed Dave Hughes and the groom-to-be, Aled Lewis, were the most competitive because both looked about ready to regurgitate the contents of their mouths, and in all likelihood anything left in their stomachs, but neither would concede. Dave’s face still had the bruises left from his previous meeting with Gordon and the latter was clearly enjoying adding to the young man’s pain by encouraging him to take one more marshmallow. Just when it looked like both men would indeed vomit, Gordon’s assistant hissed something in his ear and he brought proceedings to a close.
“Ladies and gentleman, in the name of decency, I declare it a draw.”
Hugely relieved, the men turned away and spat the contents of their mouths into the waiting buckets, to the sound of cheers and jeers from their friends and amused passengers who had gathered to watch. Gordon awarded both men a lanyard with Queen Cruises Champion engraved on a plastic medallion and shook hands with them as if they were long-lost friends. Dave’s eyes betrayed a steely cold gaze that sent chills down Rachel’s spine; she was sure she had her man.
Gordon quickly departed and left the gang of young men to their back-slapping and congratulatory teasing, each jostling to be heard above the other. Dave Hughes looked pale as he approached Rachel.
“Hi,” he said warily. “The security bloke said you wanted to have a word with me. He told me you saved my bacon the other day by the side of the pool.”
Rachel slapped her most disarming smile on to her face as she encouraged him to take a seat.
“Catch you later, boys,” he shouted to his mates.
“Lucky blighter,” one of them remarked. “What do they see in him?”
“I’m Rachel.” She had rehearsed the next part of her speech with Marjorie until it sounded convincing. “I witnessed the assault on you the other day, and wanted to tell you that I am happy to make a formal complaint about the whole thing to the security team to ensure that man never works again.”
He looked nervous. “No!” He raised his voice and Rachel feigned alarm, moving away from him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout. It’s just the whole thing has been traumatic for me. I want to forget about it. In fact, I’ve already told the chief to drop it.”
“Really? I’m surprised, are you sure that’s wise? That man shouldn’t be allowed to get away with what he did to you. He’s even back at work – rubbing your face in it, that’s what I’d call it.”
The hatred in Dave’s eyes gave him away again, but he quickly regained control.
“It was nothing. In fact, it was a family spat. Don’t tell anyone, but he’s my uncle, and I deserved it. Don’t worry, I’ll get him back.” The malice became evident in his voice during the latter part of the statement. Rachel wanted to rattle his cage a little bit more.
“That’s very forgiving of you, but it was still assault, uncle or not. I’ll tell the chief I want to make a formal statement.”
Rachel moved as if to leave. He gripped her arm aggressively, his eyes pleading.
“No, please, don’t – you’ll ruin everything.”
“But he has to be dealt with,” she said sympathetically. “People like him should be punished. In fact, I’d like to do it myself.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Well if it was left to me, I’d throw him overboard.”
The young man’s eyes welled up. “My dad was thrown overboard.”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise. Was your dad that superb singer in the Queen tribute band?”
“Yes.” He looked down at his clenched fists. “And I intend to get the killer.”
“OMG! You think it was your uncle?”
“I know it was, so you have to understand, he will be punished, but the security chief’s told me they don’t suspect him of murder, so if he gets arrested he’ll only get done for assault. Don’t you see? He’ll get away with murder.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I can’t tell you. I nearly got to him the other day, but he survived.” He looked determined. “Next time I’ll make sure.”
Rachel was puzzled he hadn’t recognised her as the person who shouted at him to leave the man alone, but relieved to see Jason come into the lounge. Her plan had worked – she’d got the confession.
“I’m sorry, Mr Hughes, I can’t let you do that.” Dave’s eyes darted from Rachel to Jason, who was approaching them. “There’s nowhere to run.”
Rachel took the phone out of her pocket and handed it to Jason. “Everything’s on there, but please let me have it back ASAP. I’m expecting a call.”
Before Jason led Dave Hughes away, Rachel spoke to the young man.
“Believe me,” she said, “attempted murder is better than committing the real thing. You’re too young to go away for life, and if it helps, I’m almost certain it wasn’t your uncle that killed your dad.”
Dave looked back at her. “So you think it was drugs that killed him?”
“Perhaps, but if there is a killer, I don’t believe it’s Gordon Venables. He doesn’t have it in him.”
“Who are you?”
“Just someone trying to enjoy a holiday.” She shrugged as Jason took the young man away. “And oh how I wish I could do that.”
Chapter 28
Marjorie arrived in the main atrium in plenty of time for her meeting with Jimmy Walker. She ordered tea and sat gazing out to sea through the large windows that allowed torrents of light into the area. The marble floors shone with polish, as did the spiral staircases leading to the upper part of the atrium. The brass banisters were so shiny they could be used as mirrors.
If one sat here all day long, she mused, one would see the invisible crew who keep the public areas immaculately clean and tidy.
The public toilets were a perfect example. She had never known a time when soap or towels were lacking. Spillages were magically cleaned up immediately by a member of the crew who no-one noticed or acknowledged. The daily routine continued like the well-oiled machine it was. Rigorous training kept the crew on their toes, Sarah had assured her and Rachel, with work regularly inspected by senior officers throughout every department.
The atrium was busy, being a sea day. The cruisers had had four straight days of land stops and now they were enjoying the hospitality the ship had to offer before the next stop. Marjorie had finished her first cup of tea before the band manager arrived. He came alone at first as per her request, with the rest of the band due half an hour later.
The loud voice shattered her musings. “Allo, Lady Snellforpe, good to see ya again.”
I do wish he would learn some diction. He can say ‘the’, so why can’t he say ‘thorpe’?
“Good morning, Mr Walker. I trust you enjoyed some relaxation over the past few days. Tea?”
“I’ll ’ave coffee, ta.”
Marjorie requested coffee from the waiter, who had seen Jimmy arrive, and another pot of tea for herself.
> “The lads went ashore while I worked. Never a minute’s rest, managing a band, what wiv bookings and rooms and making sure they’ve got everyfing they need.”
“Yes, I’m sure it’s a full-time job. You do seem to manage them well, though. My granddaughter liked the new singer, but not as much as the previous one, she told me.”
Jimmy’s jaw dropped.
“However, she’s willing to have another listen when they play this afternoon, and afterwards I will make my final decision. It is such a shame about Mr Venables.”
“Well, as I said, ’e could be difficult at times wiv ’is temperament an’ all, plus the fact men couldn’t let their wives out of their sight. Like I told ya, ’e even ’ad a go at mine.”
“Quite. I still can’t get over how forgiving you were over that incident; it must have riled you. My late husband would not have shown so much grace.”
Marjorie noticed Jimmy fiddling with his collar as the memories came back. “Yeah, well, as I said, I was angry and could ’ave done for ’im the day I found out, but we made up. In business, you ’ave to let things go. We needed each other and ’e promised it wouldn’t ’appen again, like.”
“Artistic people do sometimes push all social boundaries, don’t they?”
“Yeah, they can do, I suppose.” He took a slurp of coffee from the mug that had arrived while they chatted. Marjorie thanked the waiter, but Jimmy didn’t seem to notice him at all.
And he’d be the first to call me a snob.
For a moment, she was distracted by the loud slurping noises he made as his jaw performed somersaults to keep the gum in place while drinking.
“Do they know yet who done for him, as you put it?”
“They don’t fink anyone did now. Last I ’eard they put it down to an accident. Now saying ’e was drunk and off ’is ’ead on drugs.” He snorted in disbelief.
“You don’t think it an accident, I take it?”
“Dom was a lot of fings, but a junkie ain’t one of ’em. ’E never touched the ’ard stuff; a bit of pot now and again, but not what they say ’e took.”