by Nic Saint
I’d already told him there were no icebergs in the Caribbean, but he still seemed reluctant to accept that plain truth.
“There could be hidden icebergs, Max. The kind of icebergs you don’t see, and they’re even more dangerous than the ones that stick out.”
“Sure, Dooley.”
“I mean, an iceberg could have easily drifted here from the Arctic, a silent killer, taking down cruise ships, and the captain wouldn’t even know, because it’s dark out.”
“They have radar nowadays, and all kinds of sophisticated equipment, to make sure that kind of thing can’t happen. If there was an iceberg out there, the captain would know.”
“Still,” he said, casting a critical eye at the lifeboat and mentally fitting a life jacket. “I just hope that when the ship goes down that Odelia won’t make Chase float in the water. There’s plenty of space on that raft, Max. There’s no need for Chase to freeze to death.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but since I’d just spotted our two feathered friends again, I gave them a little wave. Though I had to say they had this strange look on their faces. A little like Chase when he sees a nice, juicy steak.
“Hi there,” I said by way of greeting. “Nice evening for a stroll, eh?”
“Absolutely,” said Jack. “I’m surprised you guys are still here, though.”
“And why is that?” I asked.
“I would have thought that two lovely cats such as yourselves—succulent, tasty, full-bodied specimens—would have been snapped up by now.”
“Snapped up?” I said, having a little trouble following the thread of the conversation.
“Well, sure. You look like such a well-fed cat, Max—and you, too, Dooley—that I would have thought one of our friends would have taken a liking to you by now.”
“No, we haven’t met any of your friends yet,” I said.
“I guess this is our lucky night, Frank.”
“I guess it is, Jack.”
For some reason, I don’t know why, I was starting to get a little antsy. As I’ve already indicated these were two very large birds. And as I glanced around, I noticed for the first time that we were all alone out there—the deck now practically deserted. Which meant that if these birds weren’t as nice and friendly as we thought them to be, no one would defend us in case things got rough.
“We talked to a teacup Maltese today,” said Dooley. “He was very nice. He says he used to go on these kinds of cruises all the time, but lately his human has run into some financial trouble, and so now he stays at home with her most of the time.”
“Now isn’t that a pity?” said Jack with a nasty lilt to his voice that I didn’t like.
“A teacup Maltese, huh?” said Frank. “Not much meat on that carcass, then.”
“Not like Max over here,” said Jack. “How much do you weigh, Max?”
“Um… about twenty pounds? I have lost some weight.”
“Pity,” said Jack.
“Yeah, pity,” said Frank.
“Odelia put him on a diet,” Dooley explained.
“Terrible things, diets,” said Jack.
“Never lose weight, Max,” said his friend. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”
“And don’t let anybody tell you differently.”
“That’s what I keep telling him,” said Dooley. “Isn’t that what I keep telling you, Max?”
“Yeah, Dooley, you do,” I said, glancing here and there for an avenue for escape.
The two seagulls had hopped down from the railing and were now on deck, inching ever closer to where we were sitting. “Twenty pounds, huh?” said Jack, actually licking his lips—I didn’t even know that birds had tongues! “And what do you eat, Max? What do you put in that nice, round tummy of yours, eh?”
“Only the best of the best,” said Dooley proudly. “Our human doesn’t stint on the good stuff. The best kibble money can buy, the best wet food, and even some raw meat from time to time.”
“Raw meat, huh? Sounds like you’ve got it made, Dooley.”
“I like raw meat,” said Frank. “In fact I love it. Raw and bloody—the bloodier the better.”
“And how about you, Dooley? how much do you weigh, little buddy?”
“Um, about ten pounds, I guess,” said Dooley.
“You guess?”
“I’m not sure. It’s been a while since Vena weighed me.”
“Who’s Vena?”
“Is she also on board this ship?” asked Jack, taking another step closer.
“No, you guys,” said Dooley with a laugh. “Vena is our veterinarian. Every time Odelia takes us to see her she puts us on a scale. She seems to like that kind of thing.”
“Yeah, Vena takes real good care of us,” I chimed in, and gestured for Dooley to take a step back. The behavior of these two seagulls was highly alarming, I now felt, and the more we kept our distance, the better.
“So you both got a clean bill of health, huh?” asked Frank. “No diseases?”
“Yeah, we’re both as healthy as can be,” said Dooley. “Tiptop shape!”
“Um, not exactly,” I said. I noticed how Jack’s eyes were glittering as he approached. Much to my annoyance, Dooley was missing my nonverbal messages entirely, and refused to budge. “In fact the last time I went to see Vena she told me I have a very rare blood disease. Potentially fatal.”
“Is that so?” asked Jack with a slight grin.
“Yeah, very dangerous blood disease,” I said, nodding. “Looks like it’s spread all over my organs… and such.”
“Uh huh.”
“Max! You didn’t tell me!” said Dooley, clearly shocked by this news.
“Bad Max,” said Frank. “He didn’t tell his little friend he’s sick. That wasn’t nice of you, Max.”
“No, but it’s true. I’m a very sick cat. My whole body is poisoned on the inside. Extremely poisoned.”
“Max! You’re dying?” asked Dooley.
“Um, yeah, I guess I am.”
Jack and Frank shared a quick glance, and I could swear they were smirking. It was obvious they didn’t believe a word I said.
And then suddenly, just as Jack spread his wings and appeared ready to pounce, Odelia and Chase arrived!
“Oh, there you are,” said Odelia. “We better get going.”
“See you later, Max and Dooley,” said Jack.
“Yeah, catch you later, guys,” Frank chimed in.
And then they both took off, loudly cackling as they did.
“Max is dying, Odelia!” said Dooley. “He just told me the news!”
“Max? What is Dooley talking about?” asked Odelia. But I was still keeping a close eye on the departing birds, worried they might come back.
“See! He’s at death’s door!” said Dooley. “He doesn’t even react anymore!”
But then Odelia picked me up and gave me a hug. “Maxie? What’s going on?”
“I think those birds want to eat us,” I said.
“Birds? What birds?” she asked, a tinge of worry in her voice.
“The birds that were just here. Jack and Frank. Seagulls,” I added for good measure.
“Oh, don’t be silly, Max,” she said. “Seagulls don’t eat cats. Now what’s all this about you being sick and dying, huh?”
And as she carried me off, Chase picked up Dooley and gave him a cuddle.
“Oh, I just said that to get rid of those birds,” I told her.
“Smart plan,” said Odelia. “I’ve always said it and I’ll say it again: you’re a smart cookie, Max. Now how about a midnight snack?”
“A midnight snack?” I asked, immediately forgetting all about Jack and Frank. “I love a midnight snack.”
“Well, then let’s grab us one,” she said, and gave me a smacking kiss on the top of my head.
11
That night, Dooley and I spent out on the balcony, as promised, while Odelia and Chase occupied the cabin. It wasn’t too bad: Odelia had put down a blanket f
or us to sleep on, and as I’d already indicated, the night was warm enough, and of course there was that vast open space of the ocean to take into account, with its abundance of fresh air. Which was also a cause of worry, though, as I dearly hoped Jack and Frank wouldn’t come and find us and… eat us!
“So are you sure you’re not dying, Max?” asked Dooley, not for the first time.
“Yes, Dooley. I’m perfectly fine.”
“You really scared me.”
“I know, Dooley, and I’m sorry. But I just did it to get Jack and Frank off our backs.”
“But why? They’re so nice.”
“I don’t know, Dooley. I just had a bad feeling, all right?”
“Well, I have a very good feeling. I think we all just might become fast friends.”
I put my head down then, and tried to get some sleep. Luckily a cat can sleep but still stay alert. We can even sleep with one eye open if we must. The moment those birds put in a return performance, I’d be wide awake and heading for the great indoors.
From inside the cabin, the sounds of some heavy romancing reached my ears. But then I finally fell asleep, and dreamed of seagulls—dozens and dozens of them. Ugh.
I woke up from the sound of shuffling feet and whispered conversations. It must have been out in the corridor, for inside the cabin all was quiet, the honeymooners now fast asleep. The whispers ended and I dozed off again.
The next time I woke up, it was from a loud and persistent banging on the cabin door, and as Chase went to answer it, Odelia opened the balcony door to let us in.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“No idea,” she said, looking sleepy and tousled but still mightily cute in her Finding Nemo T-shirt and matching panties. She slipped into a sweater as Chase pulled open the door to reveal… Garth Dagit, the security guy who’d so expertly dealt with kleptomaniac Ruby.
“I’m sorry to wake you up,” said the guy, “but you’re both cops, right?”
“I’m a cop,” said Chase, “and my wife is a police consultant.” He was only dressed in a pair of ladybug-pattern boxers at this point—presumably a present from Odelia.
“There’s been… an incident,” said the security guy, “and I was wondering if you would mind giving me a hand.”
“What happened?” asked Chase as he gratefully accepted a T-shirt from Odelia.
“You better come with me,” Garth suggested.
Odelia darted a quick look down at me, and I got the message.
“Dooley,” I said. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?” asked Dooley. “Is the cruise over already? Have we landed?”
“Boats don’t land, Dooley,” I said. “They dock into port.”
“So have we docked into port?”
“I don’t think so. Looks like something happened and this man needs our help.”
“I hope it’s not that kleptomaniac girl again,” said Dooley as we followed Odelia, who was following Chase, who was following the beefy security man. “Maybe she stole another phone and now she’s going to be in big trouble.”
But it wasn’t the kleptomaniac girl. If only it had been so easy. Instead we found ourselves entering the next cabin, and as we approached the bed, much to our surprise Mr. Lil Thug was sprawled out there… looking very dead indeed.
“Oh, my God!” said Odelia. “What happened?”
“You tell me,” said Garth as he dragged a weary hand through his mane. “We got a distress call but unfortunately the operator had just stepped out of her office. Luckily all calls are registered and can easily be traced to the phone they were made from, so the operator decided to wake me up so I could take a look, and this is what I found.”
“Is he… dead?” asked Dooley.
We’d both jumped up on the bed to take a closer look, earning ourselves a censorious frown from Garth in the process so we quickly jumped down again.
From what I could gather the man had been stabbed or shot in the chest, for there was a lot of blood around that area. And also, and more disturbingly: the twenty-million-dollar pink diamond that had been so nicely embedded in his forehead… was gone.
“Looks like a robbery,” said Chase as he examined the body with the kind of professionalism he likes to bring to his job. “Stone was cut from his face and he was probably killed for it.”
“Stone?” asked Garth. “What stone?”
“Lil Thug had a diamond implanted in his forehead,” Odelia explained. “It was worth twenty million.”
Garth whistled through his teeth. “Twenty million. Now there’s a motive for murder.”
“Only problem is: who took the stone and killed its owner?” asked Chase.
“It must have been someone on this corridor. Cause I already checked CCTV before I woke you up, and no one came or went after the last person arrived to go to their cabin.”
“There’s no CCTV in the corridor itself?” asked Odelia.
“No, unfortunately not. I keep asking management to install them all over the ship, but they’re reluctant and keep brushing me off with privacy concerns.”
“So… how many cabins are there on this corridor?”
Garth took out his notebook and frowned. “Well, there’s this cabin, then yours, then there’s Bertha Biles and her husband David Biles, next to her is her daughter Laura Matz, across from Miss Matz is Adele Brzeczek, next are the Ketterings—Ruby and her parents Cynthia and Charles, and across from Lil Thug are Chiquita Könönen and Oren Vittle. So how many is that?” He quickly counted on his fingers. “Um, eleven, you two included.” He gave our humans a quick grin. “I checked you out, though, and both your reputations precede you.”
“In a good way, I hope?” said Odelia.
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t have brought you in on this otherwise.”
“So… no one could have gotten in from the outside somehow?” asked Chase. “Dropped down to Lil Thug’s balcony and then returned the same way?”
“No way,” said Garth with a definite shake of the head.
“So then it looks like one of these people is the culprit. Only question is: who?”
“I also found this,” said Garth, and held up a little plastic baggie. In it we could see a single gold earring. “And unless this belonged to Mr. Thug, this is the killer’s.”
12
The next morning at breakfast we found ourselves seated at the same table as the Biles family again, and naturally there was only one topic of conversation: the sudden and shocking death of Lil Thug.
“Is it true?” asked Mrs. Biles. “Did Mr. Thug really get mugged and killed last night?”
“Unfortunately, it’s true,” said Odelia.
“I saw you talking to Garth Dagit,” Mrs. Biles explained, “which is how I figured you probably knew what’s going on, you being cops and all.”
Odelia didn’t bother to explain to the woman that she wasn’t a cop, per se.
“How did you hear about what happened?” asked Chase as he buttered a piece of toast.
“One of the cleaners told Adele. Isn’t that right, Adele?”
“Yeah, she did,” said Mrs. Biles’s carer. “I thought she was kidding, but she swore up and down that she wasn’t. She said a terrible thing had happened and we probably should ask to change cabins, since that corridor is now cursed because of what happened.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” said Laura. She looked a little sullen, I thought, as she took a sip from her hot coffee. “I already asked the captain this morning, and he said there are no more cabins available. I also asked him about Lil Thug and he said an announcement will be made later today, and he asked me to keep quiet about it for now.”
“As if we can be expected to keep quiet about a thing like that!” said her mother. “Murder! Aboard the Queen of the Seas! It’s unbelievable!”
“Do they have any idea who did it?” asked David Biles as he leaned closer to Chase.
“Not yet,” said Chase. “The investigation is ongoing, though,
so for now all I can say is that your cooperation is much appreciated.”
“What cooperation?” asked Mrs. Biles, slightly taken aback by this statement.
“Don’t you see, Mama,” said her daughter. “We’re all suspects now. Isn’t that right, Mr. Chase?”
“Not suspects, necessarily,” Chase prevaricated. “Witnesses? Sure.”
“Witnesses? I didn’t see a thing,” said Mrs. Biles. “I was fast asleep when it happened.”
“Me neither,” said Adele. “I was sleeping the sleep of the dead—pardon the pun.”
“So you didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary last night?” asked Odelia, already in full investigative mode, in spite of the early hour and her lack of sleep.
“No, I’m afraid not,” said Adele. “I’m a sound sleeper, and once I fall asleep not even a cannon shot wakes me up.”
“It’s true,” said Mrs. Biles. “Adele even sleeps through her alarm clock more often than not.” She darted a censorious look in her subordinate’s direction, which to the carer was like water off a duck’s back, as she clearly didn’t give a damn what her employer thought.
“I didn’t hear anything either,” said Laura. “In fact I slept like a log, which surprised me, as usually I have trouble falling asleep when I’m on holiday.”
“It’s the boat,” said her mother. “I never sleep as soundly as I do on the water.”
“How about you, David?” asked Chase semi-casually, though he wasn’t fooling anyone. “Did you notice anything suspicious last night? Strange sounds, activities?”
“Not a thing, officer,” said David dutifully. “I slept great. I did take a sleeping pill, so maybe that had something to do with it. First night of the voyage I always do. So I’m afraid I simply passed out. But don’t they have cameras and that sort of thing? I thought I distinctly noticed one when we arrived on the ship. Several cameras, in fact.”
“They have cameras,” Odelia explained, “but not in the corridors and not in the cabins.”
“Privacy reasons,” Mrs. Biles knew. “They don’t want to film their guests undressing or taking a shower or doing whatever. This is not the Big Brother house, after all.”