The next day was our last at sea before we were due to sail into Honolulu on the following morning. After a deep sleep as a result of the previous night’s excitement, Smythe, Dobbs, and I met up for a late breakfast. I checked with Chris in case he wanted to join us, but he’d been up for hours and on a real roll so he ordered his meal through room service.
We sat in the outdoor area of the buffet restaurant that was practically empty as most people had eaten by now. Dobbs was making his way through a huge ham and mushroom omelette while I only managed a small portion of scrambled eggs on toast. Smythe had the whole works including Italian sausage and grilled Roma tomatoes. All of us drank from mugs of strong coffee.
“What shift are we on today?” I asked, knowing Smythe had just come back from meeting with Garcia.
“Same one—three to eleven.”
“So this is it. If the killer doesn’t make a move tonight, we’ll never know who it is.”
“We may have to follow this up back in Sydney, Mia,” Smythe said. “Assuming the killer resides in Australia, that is.”
“True,” I remarked. “We don’t even know where he’s from. I remember Enrico telling me the convention has doctors from all over the place including the US, Canada, South Africa, and even India.”
“Well, after this trip I’m not going anywhere else to chase up some demented killer,” Dobbs chimed in. “I need a real holiday. Besides, the minute we put into Hawaii this ceases to be our job.”
I frowned. “But after all we’ve been through it isn’t fair to come away with an unsolved crime.”
Dobbs said, “And you wanted to be a cop. I think Phil will agree with me when I say being a cop is often a thankless task, even if you catch the criminal. Half the time, they get a fancy lawyer who gets them off on a technicality and all the hard work you put in gets flushed down the toilet.”
“Ouch!” I uttered. “Talk about cynicism, Dobbs.”
“Hey, I spent enough years on the force to see this time and again. So did your father, and so does Phil.”
I turned to Smythe, only to see him nod. “He’s right, you know.”
“Well,” I stated, “I still would’ve liked to have had the option to experience life as a cop.”
“Trust me,” commented Dobbs with a full fork halfway to his mouth, “you’re not missing out on anything special.”
I rolled my eyes and decided to drop the subject. I really couldn’t work out what was wrong with Dobbs these days. Perhaps, he was simply getting old. He was in his early sixties and obviously looking forward to retirement and being able to spend more time with his granddaughter in Hawaii. I was sure if David Rourke ended up opening a hotel in Honolulu, Dobbs would transfer there like a shot. The hotel on the Big Island was not practical enough for him, but based in his hometown, and near his daughter and granddaughter, would be ideal.
I sighed. If this went ahead and Dobbs transferred, I was going to miss him. He was like family to me—the only family I had since the death of my father. Of course, I still had Chris, who was like my son; and now, Smythe—well, at least as a friend. Beyond this, I couldn’t think further.
I stole a quick peek his way while he ate and felt the blood rush to my face. The physical attraction between us was electrifying, but then I’d thought the same thing about David Rourke years ago; and later with Nathan, the evil ex. Sexual attraction was one thing, but living day in, day out with someone was quite another. After Nathan, I could never trust another man nor did I think I could survive another betrayal.
Smythe must’ve picked up on my vibes because he turned his gaze my way and threw me a warm smile that made me want to melt. And I thought hormones went out the window with approaching menopause. Boy, was I wrong!
~~~
We were back on shift at three and by eight that evening I’d had enough. I was fed up with watching Enrico flirting with his lover over dinner while we played nursemaid to him.
“I need some fresh air,” I announced to my companions as I stood from the dining table. “I’ll go for a quick walk and then check on how Chris is progressing. Do you mind if we meet in one hour?”
Smythe hesitated, and I knew he wanted to accompany me, but his duty lay in keeping an eye on Enrico. “Meet us back here,” he said instead. “The way Enrico’s going, he’ll probably still be dining until ten.”
Dobbs frowned. “Not if I shoot him first.”
I threw him a smile. “Grumpy, grumpy!” I said and walked off with a wave.
The Promenade Deck was deserted when I went out and leaned at the rail to gaze into the night. We had a half moon, and in the silver light the ocean looked absolutely magic. I fleetingly wished Smythe was here with me. More and more, I felt my defences against him begin to crumble. I sighed. So what if the romance didn’t keep going in our day-to-day lives? I could risk my heart once again. I’d survived hurt and betrayal before. I was older and tougher these days. Besides, if things didn’t work out, I could always ask David for a transfer to another country—maybe even join Dobbs in Hawaii.
In my mind’s eye, I flashed back to the night Smythe and I made love. It had been so intense that I now couldn’t imagine going back to the humdrum life I’d been living since the break up of my marriage. Granted, I’d had a fling in between, but that meant nothing.
A door opened at one end of the deck, interrupting my thoughts, and I looked up. It was a young couple holding hands and occasionally exchanging a kiss. They strolled slowly past me, wishing me a good evening. I returned the greeting, and they walked the length of the deck and went back inside through another door at the other end. I was left alone with my thoughts once again, but I didn’t want to revisit my feelings for Smythe. It was time to check on Chris and then return to my post.
I turned and walked in the same direction the couple had taken, but before I could reach the door it opened, and a man came out. I almost called out to him but stopped myself just in time, even though he’d already seen me and started to make his way in my direction.
Something wasn’t right. The figure approaching me was that of someone fit and only a few years older than I. His steps were strong and sure. His face was the same. His eyes looked directly into mine, but there was no smile in them—only something tantamount to enmity.
My heart leapt to my throat as he lifted his walking stick to reveal a six-inch steel pick protruding from its end. Professor Tully did not need a stick to walk; he did not have arthritis, and he certainly wasn’t in his sixties or seventies, as I had originally thought. He also had the exact gait of the killer—he was the killer.
“It was you all along!” I accused despite the cold fear permeating my body. “But why?” I was so surprised at his transformation that it never occurred to me to run in the opposite direction to make my escape.
He stopped a few feet away from me and uttered with venom in his voice, “Because she was a filthy slut! But she got what she deserved in the end.”
I noted the ominous look on his face and realised he’d killed his own wife. He knew what I was thinking.
“Yes, I killer her,” he confessed. “She betrayed me for thirty years. Yet, every day I was with her she acted the part of the perfect wife. But she was a sick depraved sex addict, and she couldn’t help herself. If it had pants, she had to fuck it.” He shook his head in disgust. “I think I must’ve been the only one who had normal sex with her, and she found it ‘boring’; or so she said in one of her posts from that filthy forum she belonged to.”
“You knew about the cheaters’ club?”
“I knew everything: the personal ads she answered during the days before the internet, the online dating, the cheaters’ forum, how she sneaked off to rut like a whore while on the pretext of taking tango lessons. I certainly knew everything!” His voice dripped pure hatred. “But she was careless, my beautiful Eden, and she was foolish enough to keep a diary, thinking I’d never find it.”
I started to take minute steps backwards because I knew I was going to have to make a run for it, but at the same time I was mesmerised by this man—this killer, who meted out his own brand of punishment because his wife had betrayed him through their whole marriage. I could understand how it had pushed him over the edge. This happened all the time to people who were betrayed by those they thought loved them in return. Only not everyone acted on their hurt and anger; at least, not like Tully.
“But why put up with so many years of betrayal?” I asked; both wanting to know and also to keep him distracted while I took those miniscule steps in preparation for my escape.
“Because despite what she was, I loved her—and I lived in the hope she’d come forward and confess. I would have forgiven her anything, you know.” For a moment, he rubbed at his eyes, in the process lifting his glasses; and I took another small step backward. Then, he continued, his voice full of anger. “But day in, day out, she lived her fantasies with these men—even gay ones like that dirty faggot, Enrico! I didn’t know about him, but I heard the rumours yesterday.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it. “What makes a prostitute like her want it up the arse?” His savage tone made me jump and I knew any moment now he would snap and lunge at me.
“Why did you say you had arthritis?” I knew the answer to this, of course; but I had to say something to divert him from his venomous thoughts, if only for a few seconds.
“It lulled her into a false sense of security while I started to hunt down her lovers. The arthritis gave me the perfect excuse to slow down and give up my medical practice. This way, I had more time on my hands.” He threw me a knowing look. “Yes, I know you probably worked out by now this cruise isn’t the beginning of my mission of revenge. The whole thing started after I killed her last year. I stabbed her through her black cheating heart with this very walking stick that I’m now going to use on you!”
I was still in time to make a run for it, but I had to know more. “What did I ever do?” I couldn’t help sounding resentful. “I was nice to you, damn it!”
He looked me up and down, taking in my cargo pants and tight T-shirt that stretched across my chest, accentuating the shape of my breasts. “You’re a slut, too,” he spat out. “I’ve seen you on this very deck, first exchanging kisses with that officer and later with one of your travelling companions. You’re a whore like the rest of them!”
“Hey!” For a moment, I didn’t care about his threat to kill me; walking stick or no walking stick. “At least I didn’t cheat on anybody! If anything, my own ex cheated on me!” What the hell was I doing arguing with a killer? I came to my senses abruptly. The guy was out of his mind. He wasn’t going to respond to reason. I took another small step back, but this time he noticed.
“You’re not going to get away from me, you bitch! If it hadn’t been for you and your friends, I would’ve been able to finish off the job right here on the ship. But you had to stick your nose where it wasn’t wanted, and now you’re going to pay.”
I turned to make a run for it then, but he lunged at me, bringing me down by taking hold of my feet. He was more agile than I thought.
I hit the deck hard, but protected banging my head by breaking the fall with my arms. The pain that shot through my left forearm was excruciating, but better this than be knocked unconscious so he could drive the steel pick through my heart.
I kicked out at his face with my feet and connected with his nose. He let out a yelp of pain, and I managed to stand up. But he was too fast for me. He followed and caught me from behind just before I reached the door. With a strong arm around my neck, half choking me, he dragged me away from the door and toward the rail. A thought flashed through my mind that rather than stab me, he would get rid of me a lot quicker if he simply pushed me overboard like he’d done with van Horn.
It seemed this was his purpose. He crushed my torso against the rail with his own body and winded me so much that I collapsed right into his arms. He then lifted me like I weighed nothing and brought my body up onto the balustrade. One small push and I would go hurtling down into the depths of the ocean, never to be seen again.
Just as he pushed, however, my right hand caught hold of the metal rail under me. He tried to pry my fingers open so I would let go.
In the meantime, I managed to wriggle out of his arms and my feet touched the deck. He suddenly let me go altogether and lunged for the walking stick instead, which was lying on the deck a few feet away. It took him seconds to retrieve it and run back toward me with the sharp pick aiming straight for my heart.
I tensed, knowing it was too late to step out of the way. With eyes closed, I waited for the piercing pain that was sure to put an end to my life.
A couple of seconds went by and nothing happened. Then, I opened my eyes just in time to see Smythe take a dive from the open doorway, tackling Tully out of the way and bringing him to the ground.
My legs collapsed from under me and I fell straight into Chris’s arms while I watched Dobbs and Garcia overpower Tully as he struggled with Smythe. The walking stick went flying from Tully’s hand, only to land a few feet away from Chris and me.
Smythe punched Tully in the stomach and winded him. He then stood and came away, letting Dobbs and Garcia turn Tully face down to cuff him.
Chris deposited me in Smythe’s arms, where he knew I wanted to be. I was engulfed by Smythe and my body molded into his. He held me for a moment while we watched Tully being taken away by Dobbs and Garcia, and followed by Chris; who picked up the walking stick from the steel tip so he could preserve Tully’s fingerprints on the wooden part.
When they left, Smythe swung me up into his arms. “You okay?” he asked with concern in his eyes.
I nodded and leaned my face into his shoulder. “Just a sore arm.”
He reached with his head and planted a lingering soft kiss on my lips. “I thought I was going to lose you. I thought we were going to be too late.”
A thrill of desire spread through me, but I controlled it. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Enrico left the restaurant early and I rang Chris’s cabin, thinking you were already with him. He said you hadn’t come at all. Then, he told me he cracked into the server and gave me the real name of Erotic Heart. It was—”
“Eden Tully,” I said for him.
“Tully told you?”
“Not exactly, but he mentioned Eden belonging to the cheaters’ forum, so I assumed he broke into her account.”
“Her real name was Edina Vasquez Tully,” Smythe informed me.
“Tully used to talk about her with such love,” I returned sadly. “He killed her, you know; along with the others. You were right to suggest he might have left a long trail of bodies back home.”
Smythe kissed me softly once more, probably so he could make himself believe I had survived the ordeal. I didn’t stop him. I had come so close to losing my life that I decided to live for the moment. We kissed for a long time, passionately and lingeringly. When we came up for air, I said, “You didn’t tell me how you knew I’d be here.”
“Chris made the connection. He knew you and Tully were shipboard friends. And I figured you’d be out here because you mentioned you wanted to take a breath of air. I remembered you liked strolling along this deck.”
I sighed with relief. “Thank God you guys arrived in time. I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out. I had every intention of making a run for it but at the same time, I had to hear what Tully had to say. I never thought he’d be so fit, you know. I underestimated him. Some cop I’d make, huh? Besides—”
Smythe regarded me lovingly with his blue-green gaze. “Shut up, Ferrari,” he whispered in my ear and held me tighter against him as he took the opportunity to put a stop to my chatter with yet another body-melting kiss.
Entry from Mia’s Case Book
Case No 3 – The Neurotic Erotics Club
Upon arrival in Honolulu, Professor Tully was taken into custody by the local police. Dobbs had arranged for his contact in the force to meet the ship. While the men—Dobbs and Smythe, along with Mark Evans, Jerry Garcia and the captain—went to deal with the authorities, a number of police officers remained behind to take statements from members of the medical convention, the crew, staff, the ship’s doctor, and Chris and me. A coroner’s van arrived shortly thereafter to take away the bodies of Doctors Barry, Weinstein and Downes to the morgue.
David Rourke and Edward Teppler flew into Honolulu from the Big Island and while Teppler waited on the ship to confer with the captain upon his return, David Rourke escorted his son and I to a luxury hotel in Waikiki, where he booked us in for a few days’ rest before we were due to fly back to Sydney. He also booked rooms for Dobbs and Smythe, telling us we needed a well-deserved break. David then flew back to his hotel project in Waikoloa with the promise he’d see us upon his return to Sydney in a couple of weeks.
Chris and I slept for most of that day, absolutely exhausted from the long hours we put into the investigation while onboard the ship. Dobbs and Smythe came back to the hotel in the late afternoon, also to rest. In the evening, we had a catch-up session over dinner.
Smythe told us Tully made a full confession. Aside from those he killed onboard, he also murdered six of his wife’s lovers back in Australia, plus he killed Eden in 2012—hence the reason we couldn’t find any recent posts from her on the cheaters’ forum. Considering the nature of the crime and the fact that all the victims were Australian, the professor was to be extradited to face charges in his home country.
Upon inspection of Tully’s papers, the police confirmed his age at fifty-five years. This fitted in with Tully’s story that he met Eden at university and they later married, and stayed married, for thirty years. I had been convinced the professor was older, especially because of his white hair and his complaints about the arthritis. Tully confessed to pretending he had arthritis to throw people off, but the white hair was natural—probably premature greying as a result of the betrayal he suffered at the hands of the one he loved.
We never learned why someone as passionate as Eden—or Beatriz Edina Vasquez, as was her formal name in the old passport Tully still carried with him as a reminder of happier times—had decided to marry someone as conventional as Tully. We could only surmise Eden wanted the financial stability Tully could provide, but still live out her fantasies and assuage the desires of her Latin nature with other men.
The Neurotic Erotics Club was the brainchild of Dr Bertrand van Horn. Many of the doctors in his circle wanted to satisfy certain sexual fantasies and desires, which they couldn’t very well do at home. Discretion within the club was the order of the day. If discovered it could mean the end of the members’ career if they were found out. So rather than belong to intimate dating sites, they decided to form their own club; and only members of the medical and health sector were admitted after scrutiny from van Horn and a couple of his closest colleagues.
Enrico Lotti, having been a doctor once upon a time, was an avid member of the club, especially within the gay medical community, which was still frowned upon, as he later found out when he was passed over for promotion on account of his partner having been diagnosed as HIV positive. Despite Lotti choosing to leave his medical career, he kept up with the club’s activities and remained very much an active member.
After five days of total relaxation time in Waikiki; and even though I fought hard to resist Smythe’s charms and failed a few times, we flew back to Sydney and returned to our respective routines. Dobbs lost his grumpy demeanour the minute he was reunited with his wife, Eileen. Not only this, but Eileen was so happy to have him back that she didn’t even scold him for the extra pounds he packed on.
Chris returned to university and kept working as a casual waiter in the functions department of the hotel, where he also resided in the Penthouse with his father. David remained with the hotel project in Waikoloa and then began negotiations for the takeover and revamp of a hotel property in Waikiki. This brought my fear to the fore that Dobbs, my good friend and father figure, might decide to return to his homeland to be closer to his daughter and grandchild.
Smythe went back on the job as Detective Sergeant with the Kings Cross police. He was later offered a promotion to the position of Detective Inspector. This meant he would take on more of a supervisory role at the station and limit his time out on the streets. He accepted the position and told me it was high time for a change. Like Dobbs, he felt sometimes being a cop was a thankless task. Besides, he’d seen enough violence in his career to the point where he now wanted to take more of a backseat role within the local area command.
I suspected he accepted the job because he hoped we could make some kind of a life together if he worked in a safer environment. He knew how difficult it was to live with a cop who was always out on the streets, especially in an area like Kings Cross—Sydney’s red light district. But the whole case of Tully and his revenge of Eden’s betrayal left me feeling numb. I’d only been divorced from Nathan for three years; and after an eighteen-year marriage, the last thing I wanted was to become involved in another relationship. I still felt the sting of Nathan’s betrayal and constantly questioned the meaning of romantic love. People always professed to love one another only to end up splitting up, hating, or even killing each other when things didn’t work out.
I didn’t feel ready to commit to anyone just yet. Besides, I wanted time to think about my father and why he led me to believe Smythe had been responsible for my not getting into the force. I loved my father and missed him every day, but I also needed to forgive him.
Smythe and I ended up falling into a close friendship that constantly tempted us to take things into the bedroom. I managed to put a stop to this most of the time, but not always. After all, I’m only human. Smythe took it well and remained patient. I knew he wanted more of a commitment from me, and he figured if he wanted to be with me long term he would have to wait until I was ready. If he remained constant, there was the chance we may end up together. At the same time, he knew there were no guarantees. I made sure he understood this because I didn’t want to trap him into thinking he and I would become a permanent item.
We were both fully aware of the well-known saying: “If you love something, set it free; if it comes back, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it was never meant to be.”
One thing I did agree to do, however, was to call him “Phil” whenever we were alone.
THE END