Captain Fairfax and John Saunders had answered Morrison’s shouted commands to come to his suite at once. “How did that story leak out?” an apoplectic Morrison demanded. “Who told them what happened?”
“I can only assume that the Man with One Thousand Faces was the source,” Saunders answered.
“How about Dr. Blake? How about the butler?”
Captain Fairfax stiffened but tried not to let his anger show.
“If my life depended on it, I would say that Dr. Blake would never reveal that information. As for Raymond Broad, as I told you, I am not even sure he was aware of the fact that Lady Haywood was the victim of foul play. If I were to make a guess, I would agree with what Mr. Saunders just said. This is likely another example of the Man with One Thousand Faces bragging to the media.”
“Wait a minute. What about that guy, the detective from Interpol? What’s his name?” Morrison said, the creases in his forehead deepening.
“It’s Devon Michaelson, sir,” Captain Fairfax replied.
“Tell him I want him to get up here now. And I mean right now,” Morrison thundered.
Without answering, Fairfax reached for the phone. “Ring me Devon Michaelson’s suite,” he said. Three rings later he picked up. “Mr. Michaelson, this is Captain Fairfax. I’m in Mr. Morrison’s suite. He wants you to come up immediately and meet with him.”
“Of course. I know where it is. I’ll be right there.”
For a long three minutes there was an uncomfortable silence. It was broken when Devon Michaelson tapped on the door and opened it.
Morrison wasted no time on pleasantries. “I hear you’re with Interpol,” he said abruptly. “We’ve had a murder and a piece of priceless jewelry stolen. Weren’t you supposed to prevent that?”
Michaelson did not attempt to hide the anger in his face. “Mr. Morrison,” he said, his tone icy, “I assume you will provide me with the security tapes from the dining area and the hallways leading to where Lady Haywood’s suite is located.”
Captain Fairfax answered, “Mr. Michaelson, you are probably not aware of the situation on most cruise liners. Because we value the privacy of our guests, we do not place cameras in the hallways.”
“Well, that means you are also protecting the privacy of a thief and a murderer. Did it occur to you that with the valuables your guests have in their very expensive suites, it might have been appropriate to have a security guard present at all times?”
“Don’t you tell me how to run my ship,” Morrison snapped. “Guards everywhere! I’m running a luxury liner, not a prison. Now, I’m sure that you are a very fine detective and by now you have solved this case. Why don’t you tell us all what happened?”
Michaelson’s tone was equally icy. “I can tell you that I am taking a very close look at several people.”
“I want to know who they are,” Morrison demanded.
“Experience has taught me to first focus on the individual who found the body. Very often that person is not saying as much as he knows. I am probing further into the background of your butler, Raymond Broad.”
“I assure you that every employee on this ship was thoroughly investigated before being hired,” Saunders insisted.
“I’m sure they were,” Michaelson said. “But I assure you that Interpol’s investigative resources vastly surpass those available to you.”
“Who else?” Morrison asked.
“There are several other passengers whose backgrounds are of interest to me. For now I will share the name of only one. Mr. Edward Cavanaugh.”
“The ambassador’s son?” Fairfax asked with dismay.
“Ted, as he calls himself, Cavanaugh, travels extensively in Europe and the Middle East. I have reviewed his flight records, passport stamps and hotel records. By coincidence or otherwise, he has been in close proximity to the scenes of the Man with One Thousand Faces thefts over the past seven years. And he has openly indicated his interest in the so-called Cleopatra necklace.
“And now having answered your questions, I will take my leave.”
As the door closed behind Michaelson, Captain Fairfax said, “Mr. Morrison, another matter. I have been inundated with calls and emails from the press seeking comment on how Lady Em died and if the Cleopatra necklace has been stolen. How do you want me to reply?”
“We stick to our story that Lady Em died of natural causes, period,” Morrison shot back.
Fairfax asked, “We do know that the Cleopatra necklace is missing. Should we not warn the passengers to be careful with their valuables?”
“Not one word about missing or stolen jewelry,” Morrison snapped. “That’s all.”
The two men took that as a dismissal and left the suite.
Even though it was only ten o’clock in the morning, Gregory Morrison went to the suite bar and poured himself a generous glass of vodka. He was not given to praying, but he was thinking, Dear God, don’t let it be an employee who killed her.
Ten minutes later Morrison received a call from his firm’s public relations office. He was told that in addition to the rumor that Lady Em was murdered and her necklace was stolen, there were news reports saying that because of the story in People, Celia Kilbride was going to be questioned by the FBI again over her involvement in a hedge fund fraud. Since she was a guest lecturer on Queen Charlotte, he and the Captain should be ready to respond to questions from passengers.
“I certainly ought to know,” Morrison barked. He hung up the phone and called for his chief of security to come back to his suite.
When Saunders arrived, in a deadly calm voice, Morrison asked, “Were you aware that one of our lecturers, Celia Kilbride, is under suspicion for being involved in a fraud?”
“No, I was not. The lecturers are booked by the entertainment director. Most of my focus, naturally, is on the passengers and Castle Line employees.”
“When is Kilbride due to lecture again?”
Saunders took out his iPhone, tapped it several times, and replied, “This afternoon in the theater. But it’s not another lecture; it’s a conversation with Mr. Breidenbach, the entertainment director, and she’ll also answer questions from the audience.”
“Well, tell her to forget it. That’s all I need is for people to know that I hired a thief to give a talk on my ship!”
Saunders replied carefully, “Mr. Morrison, I believe it is in our best interests to keep things as normal as possible for the balance of the voyage. Do you realize that if we cancel Ms. Kilbride’s appearance, in addition to disappointing the passengers who are planning to attend, we would be announcing that we suspect her of the theft and murder in Lady Haywood’s suite? Is this what we want to do?”
“She’s a gemologist, isn’t she?”
“So that means the talk will be about jewelry, right? Has it occurred to you that most of the passengers at the talk will know that Kilbride is being investigated for participating in a swindle?”
“I would say, yes, they’ll know. However, in essence, since we know there was a homicide on board, and the Interpol agent did not mention her, you would also by default be saying that you think she was involved. There could be very unpleasant repercussions. If it turns out she is not guilty, she might come after you for defamation of character. I strongly, strongly suggest that you do not cancel her scheduled presentation.”
Morrison considered. “Okay, if she’s up onstage for an hour, at least I’ll know she’s not in some other old lady’s suite killing her and stealing more jewelry. Leave it as scheduled. I will make it my business to be there to hear her.”