Despite the many interruptions, the Commodore was determined to finish the saga of his seafaring life. And by golly he did. The two couples who were sitting at the table had managed to keep smiles fixed on their faces during his gasket-by-gasket description of the Royal Mermaid, now the fastest ship of its kind on the seas.
As the Commodore patted his mouth with his napkin and placed it on the table, Eric leapt up. “Have a wonderful evening, everyone,” he said. “I’ll see to Mr. Crater and then mingle with our other guests.”
“Give me a hug,” the Commodore said, his arms outstretched.
Eric leaned down and allowed his uncle to practically smother him in an embrace topped off with a kiss on the cheek.
“He’s the son I never had,” the Commodore explained to his stultified guests, who now resembled wax figures.
As he left the dining room, Eric saw the Meehans and Reillys, accompanied by that idiot Dudley and the screamer, coming down the companionway. He felt a momentary sense of relief. Obviously they had not run into Bull’s-Eye and the Bean Counter. Now the appropriate thing for him to do was to ask if everything was all right.
With an air of superiority, Dudley said dismissively, “Don’t worry, Eric. I have everything under control. It’s possible we have a practical joker in our midst who unfortunately frightened Miss Pickering. I’m sure he will reveal himself in the next day or so.”
“We’re on our way for a nightcap,” Ivy said coquettishly. “Would you like to join us?”
“Thank you, but I have to check on one of our guests who’s in the infirmary.”
“Already?” Alvirah asked.
“Unfortunately, yes. Perhaps you’ve noticed him. Mr. Crater, the man with the cane. He was at the table with the Dietz children. . . .”
“Poor guy,” Luke murmured.
Eric smiled and rolled his eyes, turning on the charm, which he knew he was so capable of demonstrating. “You put him at the table with those pesky kids, right, Dudley?” he asked playfully, tapping him on the arm.
“I worked very hard on the seating arrangements,” Dudley said defensively. “Those children are with us because of their caring, loving natures that their mother captured in her beautiful and heartwarming Christmas letter.”
“Well, one of the girls was so caring, she yanked the chair out from under Crater and he fell backward when he tried to sit down. That’s why he was carried out of the dining room strapped to a stretcher.”
“We missed all that?” Ivy asked, dismayed.
“I’m afraid so,” Eric answered.
“Well, that’s all right,” Ivy decided. “I now have these wonderful people on my side, helping me to get to the bottom of things.” She pointed to Jack. “How many people have the head of the Major Case Squad of New York City working with them?” She then pointed to the others. “How many people have a renowned private investigator, a famous suspense writer, and a prize-winning amateur sleuth taking the time to dig for the truth? Not many, I tell you! But Ivy Pickering is proud to say, ‘I have them all.’ “
By now Eric’s mouth was wide open. He had met the couples earlier, when he’d been forced to give up his room to the Meehans, but he had no idea that Alvirah’s guests included the head of the Major Case Squad of New York City. Eric was worried—Bull’s-Eye looked exactly like the exfighter who became a famous writer. The news headlines announced that Bull’s-Eye was missing, and his picture was all over the media. Would Jack Reilly have any suspicions that the man Pickering had seen was not a dead writer, but an escaped criminal? Thank God Ivy said the ghost was jumping up and down in boxing shorts. Eric hoped Jack Reilly would not make the connection. For an awful moment, Eric had a vision of himself in a prison cell with no window, never mind a balcony. He had to find Bull’s-Eye and the Bean Counter before somebody else spotted them. He knew they couldn’t be in the chapel but he wanted to check it out anyway, then he’d work his way through the ship.
Eric forced himself to smile. “Well, we can all feel safe with such impressive law enforcement figures on board,” he said heartily. “Now, if you’ll excuse me . . .” He started past them up the companionway.
He’s not going to see Mr. Crater, Dudley realized. The ship’s infirmary is on the lowest deck. What’s he up to?
In the next ten minutes, Eric raced through the chapel, looked into his uncle’s suite—even though the door was locked and no one would have been able to get in—and checked out all the hiding places that he could possibly imagine. Large as the Royal Mermaid was, there weren’t many spots to hide. Whenever Eric spotted a Santa, he rushed over to him only to be disappointed. They’ve got to be starving by now, he told himself. Was there any chance they’d risk going to get something to eat?
Eric looked at his watch and realized that the buffet wouldn’t be open yet. I’d better go down and check on Crater, he thought, and then I’ll head to the Lido.