Alvirah and Willy were deep in conversation as they put in their daily mile and a half stroll on the promenade deck. “Willy, there was always the risk of someone stealing the Cleopatra necklace, but for someone to smother that poor lady to get it is so awful.”
“Greed is an awful motive,” Willy said somberly, then noticed that Alvirah was wearing the sapphire ring he had given her for their forty-fifth wedding anniversary. “Honey, you never wear any jewelry during the day except your wedding ring,” he commented. “How come you’re sporting the new one?”
“Because I don’t intend to have anyone sneak into our stateroom and steal it,” Alvirah replied. “And I’ll bet most of the people on this ship are doing the same thing. And if they don’t want to wear it, they’ll be carrying it in their handbags. Oh Willy, to think how this cruise was perfection for the first few days. And then poor Roger Pearson fell overboard and now Lady Em was murdered. Who would have believed it?”
Willy did not answer. He was looking at the dark clouds that were forming overhead and feeling the increased side-to-side rolling motion of the ship. I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re going into heavy weather, he thought. If we do, I hope it won’t start to feel like the Titanic: luxury upon luxury, only to end in disaster.
What a crazy thought. He chided himself as he reached for Alvirah’s hand and gave it a squeeze.