A Cruise to Murder

by Dawn Brookes

  “It’s not you who should be sorry,” said Rachel. “It’s the person who tried to—”

  Rachel stopped, seeing that the realisation that someone was trying to kill her was sinking into Marjorie’s mind.

  “Why?” she asked. “I’m just a doddery old lady who will be dead in a few years anyway.”

  “Perhaps whoever is doing this can’t wait a few years.” Rachel spoke quietly. “Do you have any idea who that could be?”

  “The idea doesn’t bear thinking about. I just can’t believe it.”

  Sarah woke up at that moment and heard the last part of the conversation. “I hope you two slept well,” she said.

  “Hi,” said Rachel. “That knock-out injection definitely helped, but I feel pretty sore now.”

  “I’ll get you some pain killers and anti-inflammatories. We are docked in Gibraltar so will need to head to the hospital soon. Dr Bentley has phoned ahead.”

  Sarah left the infirmary and returned with four tablets and fresh water. She also handed Marjorie some tablets to take. Marjorie looked unsure.

  “A sedative and your blood-pressure pills. Do you have any pain?”

  “No, dear, only pain in the heart, and I don’t think there are any tablets for that,” she said, looking away.

  Rachel understood how difficult this must be for Marjorie and she could see that Sarah sensed it too. There was not much they could say to help, but they tried to keep Marjorie in the present with light conversation.

  Dr Bentley came into the room accompanied by a smartly dressed man with the customary three gold stripes on his epaulettes, signifying his status as a senior officer. The man had short greying hair and stood tall at around six feet, Rachel estimated, and his uniform was tight, implying some recent weight gain.

  “Glad to see you two looking better than last night.” Dr Bentley smiled. “This is Chief Security Officer Waverley and he would like to ask you some questions. I have filled him in on your previous concerns, Rachel, but he will want to know more about all of the events. Are you feeling up to it?”

  Rachel nodded and Marjorie remained quiet but attentive. CSO Waverley took a seat in between the beds and started by turning towards Marjorie.

  “Lady Snellthorpe, firstly may I say how sorry I and the captain are that you have been attacked on board the Coral Queen. We take this sort of thing very seriously, and I will do everything within my power to find out who is responsible for this. I will be reporting directly to the captain on the matter.” He paused for a moment, as if to allow the enormity of his words to sink in. “Please start from the beginning. Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary since the start of your cruise?”

  Marjorie sighed a deep sigh.

  “If only Ralph were here, he would know what to do,” she said quietly, but then she straightened up and continued. “The only things I have noticed have been feelings which seemed silly at the time, but may or may not be important.”

  “Go on,” Waverley encouraged.

  “Well, I kept feeling I was being watched, but it didn’t make any sense. I put it down to travelling alone for the first time since Ralph’s death.” She paused for a moment and Rachel could see she was trying hard to remain in control. “There was a man I recognised, but I can’t remember where from, and that has concerned me all through the cruise.”

  “Who is this man?” The CSO leaned forward, taking notes.

  “It’s a man who sits at Rachel’s dinner table and he seems to have become a friend.” Marjorie looked apologetically at Rachel. “It is probably nothing. We met so many people through Ralph’s work and his charities.”

  Rachel felt herself redden and her heart was beating rapidly. All eyes had now turned towards her.

  “Do you know who Lady Snellthorpe is referring to?” asked Waverley.

  “I think she means Carlos,” Rachel answered softly.

  “Please can you tell us about Carlos?”

  “To be honest, I don’t know very much about him at all. We met through the dining arrangements and have become friends, but I don’t even know his last name.” Rachel was starting to feel like a complete idiot and looked to Sarah for support. Sarah nodded encouragement.

  “What does he do? Where is he from?”

  “I’ve just remembered, I was supposed to meet him in the atrium last night, but I returned to my room to ask Josie about the noise I heard in Marjorie’s room the night before. When Josie said it wasn’t her, I forgot all about him and went in search of Marjorie. He never told me what he did. I tried to ask, but he said that he wanted to forget about work for a few weeks. I was feeling the same way, so I understood where he was coming from in that respect. He lives in London, that’s all I know.”

  Rachel wanted to tell them about her suspicions regarding Carlos, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Not until she had challenged him herself.

  “What table number do you dine at?” Waverley asked.

  “Table 305,” Rachel replied sadly. She felt Sarah squeeze her hand as the CSO turned his attention back to Marjorie, but not before jotting the table number down in his notebook.

  “Please continue, Lady Snellthorpe.”

  Lady Snellthorpe glanced at Rachel before going on. “The next thing was the accident in Lisbon.”

  Rachel noticed the CSO shuffle in his seat, looking a bit embarrassed as Marjorie related the events of the accident that had taken the life of Freda McDonald. “She was wearing my coat and hat, you see, and when I looked at her lying in the road afterwards, I was shocked by how much it looked like me lying there. I was shaken to the core, but as it seemed to be a tragic accident, I put it to the back of my mind. I was also very ill afterwards so wasn’t quite myself.”

  The CSO turned to Dr Bentley at this stage in the story. “We were alerted by the Portuguese police that a boy may or may not have witnessed someone pushing the lady into the road.”

  Marjorie let out a gasp at this point, looking shocked.

  “I’m sorry, Lady Snellthorpe,” said Dr Bentley. “It was my decision not to alarm you with that information because the boy’s story could not be verified, and the coroner delivered an accidental death verdict a few days later. Security were aware, though, and kept a close eye on you.”

  Marjorie looked angry, but said nothing.

  Waverley continued. “We had plain clothes security officers following you for a few days until the Portuguese police closed the case.”

  “I see,” said Marjorie, clearly exasperated. “Once I began to feel well again, I carried on with the cruise as Ralph would have wanted me to, and I didn’t notice anything else – other than the feeling of being followed, which could have been your men.” She looked scathingly at CSO Waverley at this point. “Until last night, when I was definitely pushed. Had it not been for Rachel, I would not have been here to tell the story, and it would have appeared to be another accidental death.”

  Waverley coughed and turned to Rachel. “What about you, Miss Prince? Or should I say WPC Prince? Where do you come in?”

  Rachel noticed that Marjorie looked surprised again at the mention of her being a policewoman.

  “This is going to sound like I read too many novels, but I first noticed Marjorie before we boarded. I was in the departure lounge and I saw her enter through the VIP entrance. I couldn’t help noticing how concerned her chauffeur looked as he left her and I thought it was odd.”

  It was Rachel’s turn to look apologetically at Marjorie.

  “Chance put us into rooms next door to each other and we became friends. I, too, had the feeling of being watched, and I had a gut feeling that Marjorie was in danger, but I couldn’t see any reason for this. I have been working flat out to get through my PC assessments and thrown myself into work for several months, so I put it all down to an overactive imagination and stress.”

  Choosing not to mention Robert, Rachel went on to explain about the night of the drunk in the corridor outside Marjorie’s room and how he had been sent away by
another guest. She reiterated the concerns she’d had after Freda’s death in Lisbon, which to all intents and purposes had been put down to a tragic accident, and then she went on to explain about the night she had returned to her room and heard noises in the room next door. She missed out any suspicions she’d had regarding Carlos.

  “You must have thought I was mad, snatching the tablets away from your bedside table.”

  “I did wonder what that was all about,” agreed Marjorie.

  “Anyway, the tablets were examined by Dr Bentley and they were the ones he had prescribed, so I assumed that it had been Josie, the stateroom attendant, who had been in your room.”

  Dr Bentley looked embarrassed as Rachel recalled their conversation and how he had reassured her that her suspicions were all in her mind.

  “I couldn’t put it to rest completely until I had spoken to Josie. Sorry, Doctor. I went back to my stateroom last night and asked her about it, and she confirmed that she had not been anywhere near your room that night, Marjorie, because she had to collect pillows for another guest and she got behind on her work. At that point, I was really worried and went searching for you. The rest is history.”

  “Thank heavens you did,” said Marjorie and the others nodded agreement.

  “Do you remember anything else from last night? Did you see who pushed Lady Snellthorpe?” asked Waverley.

  “No. I have racked my brains and all I saw was a shadow. I reacted on impulse to catch Marjorie before she landed. There was a man who came downstairs and helped us, though. He may have seen something.”

  Waverley coughed again. “We can’t seem to find him. The officer attending had asked him to wait around, but in the melee he seems to have disappeared. We think he was probably on his way out, and once help was at hand, he left.”

  Rachel explained how he had seemed distracted. “I was ready to pass out, but I remember he was looking around as if weighing up what to do next when the officer appeared on the scene. I don’t remember much after that.”

  “I guess he was looking for help,” said Dr Bentley. “He was probably worried about you both.”

  “I realise you have to go to the hospital any minute,” said the CSO, “but we would like to get a detailed description of this man from you later so that we can try and trace him.”

  He turned back to Marjorie.

  “There is no easy way to ask this, Lady Snellthorpe, but do you know anyone who would want you dead?”

  Lady Snellthorpe looked thoughtful. “In all honesty, Officer Waverley, no, but if you want to know who would benefit the most from my death, it would be my son, Jeremy.”

  “I think I have taken up enough of your time.” CSO Waverley got up to leave. “I will see you again later, Miss Prince.”

  Rachel nodded, but she was more concerned about Marjorie. How would the old lady cope if her son were arrested for attempting to murder her?

  Chapter 25

  Sarah pushed Rachel’s wheelchair through security and off the ship. A taxi was waiting to take them to the clinic, and Sarah held the X-rays taken the previous night. The clinic was just a few minutes’ drive away, and they were seated in the waiting room within ten minutes of leaving the cruise terminal.

  A doctor called them through into a clinic room, and after examining the X-rays and Rachel’s ankle, he agreed it was a simple fracture of the fibula bone at the base of the ankle. He had introduced himself as Mr Ram, and after mumbling for a little while, he turned his attention to Rachel.

  “We can get you put into a lightweight walking plaster, but you will not be able to walk on it until the plaster is dry. Your cast will be fibreglass and it usually hardens within an hour, but I would suggest you don’t walk on it until tonight. You will still need to support yourself with crutches to prevent you putting too much weight on to the ankle. I will prescribe some painkillers and anti-inflammatory tablets to reduce the swelling. You should go to your local fracture clinic when you return home and show them the X-rays. Chances are you will be in the plaster boot for six weeks, and then it will be another six weeks of physiotherapy until you feel normal again. What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m a policewoman,” Rachel replied.

  “Ah, you will be confined to desk duties until your ankle is healed, I suspect, but you can go to work. Nurse! Fibreglass plastic boot, please, and crutches.”

  “A man of few words,” said Sarah as Rachel was wheeled into the plaster room.

  A tall nurse with light brown hair tied up in a bun, which reminded Rachel of missionary nurses, came into the plaster room, wearing blue scrubs similar to those which Sarah wore when she was in the medical centre.

  “Miss Prince?”

  “Yes,” answered Rachel.

  “Hi, I’m Chloe. I’m going to apply your new plaster. Have you had painkillers recently?”

  Rachel nodded.

  “All I need to know then is what colour plaster you would like.” Chloe brought out a trolley with an array of different coloured packages.

  “I had no idea there were so many different colours,” Rachel said. “I’m tempted by the pink, but it might clash with my red dress. I think I’ll just go for the plain beige one, please. It will go better with my other leg.”

  Chloe was very efficient at removing the back slab and applying the new plaster, and the whole procedure was over in fifteen minutes. After this, Chloe gave Rachel an instruction sheet on how to look after the plaster and prevent a deep vein thrombosis from occurring.

  “By the way,” Chloe called out as Rachel was leaving, “don’t be fooled by the how light that plaster is. It sets like rock, so don’t go kicking anybody.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind,” Rachel replied, cackling.

  As they were leaving the hospital, Sarah asked. “How do you feel?”

  “A lot better after taking more painkillers, thanks. If you don’t mind wheeling me around, I’m happy to go somewhere.”

  “I’m game! Let’s go into town. It’s a fairly flat walk, and even with the heat, it will be nice.” The temperature was climbing as it got closer to midday, but it was a pleasant, dry heat rather than a humid heat, so Rachel agreed.

  Town was busy with cruise ship passengers, and it all seemed rather familiar. Gibraltar was British and it showed. The signs were in English and Rachel could hear English being spoken all around her.

  They passed through a large archway into a big courtyard area with lots of cafés and outdoor seating. Sarah chose a spot in the shade and sat down. Pulling a chair towards Rachel, she ordered her to elevate her leg while they rested.

  A waiter was soon with them and they ordered ice cold colas. “Anything to eat?” the waiter asked.

  “You know what?” said Rachel. “I’m starving; I haven’t eaten since last night.” She chose fish and chips from the menu, and Sarah opted for steak and chips.

  “The one thing I miss more than anything else is British chips,” Sarah remarked. “I love foreign food, but you can’t beat good old traditional chips.”

  Rachel agreed and found herself looking forward to getting back to Leeds after the trip was over, although she still had the matter of Carlos to resolve.

  “Work is going to love me!” she laughed. “I go on a cruise and come home with a broken ankle. By the way, that doctor didn’t ask for my medical insurance documents.”

  “Don’t worry about that. The cruise line is paying for all your treatment, and Marjorie’s. I reckon you will also be in line for some compensation.”

  Rachel smiled. “Now that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day, but I hadn’t even thought about it.”

  “They can afford it. I have known them reach five or six figure payout agreements rather than having an insurance claim brought against them. The cruise lines take the safety of their passengers very seriously, and its reputation even more seriously. The last thing they want is a bad headline. They are none too happy that there is a murderer loose on their ship I can tell you.”

&nbs
p; “I don’t doubt it, I can’t say I’m very happy about it, either. I wonder if it is the son that is behind this. It seems a very callous thing to do.”

  “It is an awful thing to think, isn’t it? Poor Marjorie, she must be at her wits’ end.”

  “I just hope the stress doesn’t finish her off. I have grown so fond of her and would hate anything to happen to her.”

  “I know what you mean; she is very likeable, and whoever is behind this is a heartless psychopath. Speaking of fondness – what about Carlos? Do you think he’s involved?”

  “I sincerely hope not, but I can’t be sure. At times, he does behave suspiciously, and I have had my doubts since the accident in Lisbon. I thought I saw him running away from the scene there, but he said he was nowhere near that area.”

  Sarah looked shocked. “You never said!”

  “Everything seemed to settle down afterwards, and I was never one hundred per cent certain it was him. I would hate to accuse someone wrongly, but now that Marjorie says she recognises him from somewhere, I am left with huge doubts. The thing is, we have become close and I was hoping something would develop.”

  Rachel could see the sympathy in Sarah’s eyes as she took a long drink of cola. “Maybe he’s not involved at all,” Sarah said. “Remember there’s that other man you saw last night, too. Perhaps he saw something, or perhaps he is involved.”

  Rachel knew that CSO Waverley would be checking Carlos out even while they were seated in the café. It wouldn’t be too hard to track him down from the seating plans.

  “We will know soon enough, I guess. Do you think I will ever find the right man? It seems I’m destined to pick the wrong ones. It’s hard to believe that six months ago, my whole future was mapped out, and now I’m like a ship without a rudder – to use a nautical expression.”

  At that moment, their meals arrived and they tucked in hungrily. Sarah spoke first.

  “I think you will definitely find a good man. You and I have both had our man troubles, but there’s still plenty of time, and to use another nautical expression – there are plenty more fish in the sea.”