Grabbing a nearby pole to steady herself, Flossie bent over and peered between the deck chairs. She let out an earsplitting shriek as she straightened up and grabbed her brother-in-law’s sleeve. “Oy vey, Sterling. It’s the Sheik. Looks like you won’t have to apologize, after all.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because from the look of it, he’s dead as a dodo.”
Sterling pushed the unoccupied chairs aside to get a better look. It appeared that the Sheik had been hastily stuffed behind a deck chair, his blue satin caftan tucked around him. The pant leg that Waldo tugged on revealed a hairy limb that was now sticking straight out. A trail of blood oozed from the back of Kazaam’s bare head. His turban was nowhere to be seen. There was no doubt about it, the arrogant magician was definitely dead. Without the fancy headgear, it was easy to see why he always wore a turban. His totally bald head resembled the flattened dome of Mt. Fujiyama. But, that wasn’t what caught Sterling’s eye. It was the blood oozing out of a jagged dent at the base of the magician’s skull.
The old man shook his head and muttered, “I should have apologized last night. Now I feel bad that my tirade was probably one of his last memories. Listen Old Girl, I’ll stay here and watch the body. You walk faster than I do, so see if you can find a crewman or someone to report this to.”
“Okay. Keep Waldo here with you for protection in case the killer is still lurking around. I’ll leave my tote on the chair. I can move faster without it.” Flossie hurried off to seek help.
Before Sterling could order Waldo to sit and stay, the Wonder Dog inched under one of the chairs leaning up against an equipment box. He was busily poking around and sniffing. When he finally backed out of the dark corner, Kazaam’s turban was in his mouth. He took a few steps, wagged his tail happily, and dropped it at Sterling’s feet.
Waldo fixed his master with a proud doggie grin. Preettty.
“Why, look what you found you clever dog.” Sterling held the turban in his hands and admired it. It was resplendent with layers of purple, red and turquoise silk. On the front were feather plumes attached with an eye-popping piece of costume jewelry, its fake ruby and diamonds sparkling in the early morning light.
There was a strange avaricious glint in the old man’s eyes. This was the turban he had coveted from the moment he first laid eyes on it. He looked around guardedly, but there was no one in sight. With one slick move Sterling stuffed the turban into the bottom of Flossie’s tote, beneath her water bottle and sunhat, while muttering under his breath, “I can put this to good use. Poor old Kazaam won’t be needing it anymore.”
No sooner did the turban disappear into the depths of the tote, than Flossie came around the corner with Security Officer Seymour Shipley. He leaned over and felt for a pulse, then shook his head and said, “Yep. This guy’s dead alright. Let me ask you two a few questions.” He paused a minute, then said, “Hey, aren’t you the fellow who had the dustup with this dead guy last night?”
Flossie grabbed Sterling’s arm as a signal not to answer before he thought it out.
After a few deep breaths he said, “Yeah. Unfortunately that was me. Didn’t take my medication and felt a fit coming on. I was kinda grumpy last night, but I never wished him any harm. In fact, me and Flossie were looking for him just now so I could apologize for flying off the handle. That’s when Waldo, my service dog, spotted the guy’s pant leg.”
She broke in. “That’s right Officer, and then we saw the blood and moved the chairs to get a better look. This is what we saw. I’m afraid we don’t know much more.”
“Whadda ya mean we don’t know much more? Did you forget about the person we saw rushing away just before we got here? The one who threw something overboard?”
Flossie sighed. “Oy vey, that’s right. I guess my memory isn’t what it used to be.” She turned to Officer Shipley. “At first Waldo was barking at someone running along the deck. Sterling said it must be a jogger, but then it looked like he tossed something off the ship.”
“Yeah, we couldn’t make him out clearly because of the mist.”
“And my eyesight isn’t so good these days, but I’m pretty sure it was a man.”
The security officer gave Flossie a suspicious look, “Now you wouldn’t be making this up just to get your buddy here off the hook?”
“Of course not. We may be old, but we’re not stupid. If we were making something up it would be a much better story than what we just told you. We really were looking for him so my brother-in-law could apologize. Sterling saw him taking an early morning walk yesterday, and thought he might be doing that today.”
Officer Shipley scratched his head and took another look at Kazaam’s crumpled body. “Well, we’ve got two priorities here. If you didn’t kill Mr. Fancy Pants, then we’ve got a killer aboard, not to mention that I’ve got to deal with this body before the deck is crawling with passengers. I’ll have to call for backup and the ship’s doctor, and the Captain, too. I’m sure he’ll want to talk to you. When we get to San Francisco the FBI will want your statements because when we’re this far out, death at sea is handled by FBI agents at the next port. I’ve got a lot to do, so you two might as well go back to your cabins and rest up.”
They thanked him and hustled off.
When they got back to Flossie’s cabin she plunked her tote down on the dresser and began to root around for her ChapStick. Once the tote was opened wide she saw the turban, yanked it out and waved it under Sterling’s nose.
“Just what is this doing in my tote?”
It was hard for Sterling to hide his embarrassment at being caught. He had planned to grab it when Flossie went to the bathroom, as she always did after getting back to the cabin. “Oh, the turban. Um, Waldo found it and I figured Kazaam wasn’t going to need it anymore and––”
“Sterling, don’t try your flimflam on me. You know better than to steal something from a dead person. Oy vey. I wouldn’t be surprised if this fancy schmancy thing has a curse on it now.” She dropped it like a hot potato.
He picked it up from the floor and cradled it in the crook of his arm. “I don’t feel like I stole it. I’m just taking good care of it.”
She reached in her bag and pulled out a deck of tarot cards, went over to the little table in the corner and dealt them out. She shook her head and dealt them again with a similar result. Almost as though talking to herself she jabbed her finger at one card. “This is the Fool. The Fool usually stands for new beginnings, but beginnings with a risk.” She looked directly at her brother-in-law, “So, what do you think? That dead man’s turban will give you a new career?” She poked her finger at the colorful card. “See where this Fool is standing, Sterling? At the edge of a cliff.”
“Aw, Flossie, don’t make it sound like there’s some curse on it. You know I don’t believe in that nonsense.”
“Well you’d better.” She stabbed at another card. “This is the Five of Cups and it doesn’t make me happy.”
Sterling snickered. “Five Cups, Four Cups, what’s the big hoopla? You look like someone danced on your grave.”
“The Five of Cups usually means sadness, grief, disappointment and regret. You’re going to regret taking that thing. You should give it back. Know what this card is? A warning, that’s what it is.”
Sterling stroked the turban, then shook his head. “Nope. Not gonna give it back. No one knows I have it but you. I’ll just keep it tucked away. I may want to wear it sometime when we perform. Put your cards away Old Girl. You’re not scaring me.”