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“Sarcasm, Captain Peacock?”
“Let me say it again, love. You are not on this cruise to solve a murder, no matter how capable you think you are of doing so. Horny’s an experienced investigator with twenty years as an FBI agent and another three with Royal Caribbean security. He’s got a ship’s security officer with equally impressive credentials, and a team that consists of deputy security officers, guest security supervisors, and even security guards. You’ll notice that I used the word ‘security’ several times to describe the personnel. That’s because they all have training in protecting the ship’s passengers and crew.”
“True,” I nodded. “You did use the word ‘security’ several times. Of course, that’s not to say they’re trained to solve a mystery like this, is it?”
“Honey, you know you’re going to drive me....”
I shut him up with a kiss. I figured that would distract him long enough for me to figure out a way to get more information on the case.
Oh, sure. You’re wondering why I would try to insert myself into a murder case at sea. After all, I’m an innkeeper from Cheswick, Connecticut, a village the size of a postage stamp, and it’s true I have no background in law enforcement. But I have had some luck in solving some rather impressive cases. Or maybe luck is the wrong word to use. The fact is I worked hard at getting rid of trouble that plagued the Four Acorns Inn. We’ve had our share of break-ins and stalking incidents. We’ve even had a couple of murders, but I promise you it wasn’t my fault those people wound up dead—they were involved in a criminal conspiracy. We even had a couple of prospective murderers try to carry out their foul misdeeds on our property. Luckily, those efforts were thwarted, mostly by me. It’s amazing how creative you can get when you’re staring into the eyes of someone who wants you dead.
Along the way, I made fast friends with Laurencia “Larry” Rivera, an experienced homicide investigator for the Connecticut State Police, and that gave me the opportunity to pick up some techniques that I was sure would come in handy on this Liberty of the Seas case. It’s not like I wanted to question suspects or examine evidence. I just wanted to know why someone would toss a dead man into the sea in broad daylight and risk discovery in the process. It just doesn’t make any sense to me. Unless....
“The steward was coming to clean the stateroom!” I suddenly blurted out.
“What?” A little electric shock seemed to pass through Kenny, causing him to sit up like he’d been struck by lightning on the golf course with his favorite Callaway Big Bertha driver in hand.
“You’d have to get rid of a body if the steward was going to clean your stateroom.”
“Why not just hang the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door?” he countered.
“Maybe because the steward had seen the victim’s wife leave the room.”
“That suggests the wife was in on it, Scarlet, and from all accounts, she’s innocent.”
“But it doesn’t mean she was involved. Don’t you see? You know how the stewards and stewardesses all work the sections together? This one takes that room and that one takes the next? If the wife left and someone else entered the stateroom when the staff was cleaning nearby, the killer couldn’t take the body with him. He had no choice but to dump it over the railing.”
“Why not just walk away and leave it behind?” I could see Kenny was intrigued by my theory.
“Because he was bound to be seen by at least one, if not more, of the stewards and stewardesses the moment he stepped into the hallway, and once the body was found, he’d be exposed.”
“That’s very good, Miz Scarlet.” He fastened his gaze on me, staring at me with an intensity I found hypnotic. I loved that face of his. “Now how do we narrow down our suspects? I say that because we still have no viable ‘perp’ for this.”
He was right. The killer wasn’t necessarily staying on that particular deck. I asked the question I should have asked earlier. “What stateroom was the victim staying in?”
“Actually, the victim was assigned to 7310, which means he was staying on the same floor as we were, but on the other side of the ship.”
“So why was he on an upper deck?” I asked Kenny. “Did he have a meeting with someone?”
“It’s possible.” He gave it some thought. “It’s also possible that the victim stumbled onto something or somehow posed a threat to his killer. Maybe he witnessed a crime.”
“How would we narrow that down?” I wondered aloud.
“Are you asking me, Scarlet?”
“I am if you have a logical answer,” I replied, squeezing his hand. “If the victim was out of his normal territory, what took him up there?”
“If it were up to me, the starting point would be to find out where the ship’s crew was cleaning on each of the upper decks at the time the body went over the railing. We already know the likely trajectory of the body as it went into the ocean, so we’d at least be able to eliminate unlikely scenarios. Of course, that theory does depend on the killer trying to avoid being spotted by the housekeeping staff.”
“At that time of day, a lot of people were probably still at lunch or doing activities on other decks. Isn’t that usually when the staterooms are cleaned?”
“It might be.” He glanced down at his watch. “We should go get dressed for dinner. Your mom and Thad are probably wondering where we are.”
“You know, Kenny, if we kept this hypothesis to ourselves and just kicked it around awhile, we might be able to hand Marley the killer on a silver platter.”
“I’m not exactly in the mood to make the twit look good.”
“No, I’m sure you’re not. But if we worked it together and did the preliminary investigation, you could write it all up and outline it in great detail, so that you get the credit and Marley looks smart for hiring you as a consultant.”
“And yet I don’t get my revenge for all the times that bum hit on my wife. I don’t know that I would find much satisfaction in that, Scar.”
“You would if he had no choice but to credit you with solving the case for him,” I grinned. “After all, you’re a consultant for the cruise line, not one of his regular employees.”
“Where did this sneaky side of you come from? I’m not used to you being so conniving, Miz Scarlet.”
“I know. It is rather shocking, isn’t it? But don’t forget I’m Bur Wilson’s sister and you know what a cheese weasel he can be. He’s a master at figuring out how to work all the angles to get what he wants. I learned a long time ago to go around him. And I’ve spent a little time with Larry and Max when they were working police cases. Those two are downright devious when they’re pinning down a suspect.”
“They are rather creative in their investigative approach, aren’t they?” he smiled. “So, let’s consider the possibilities. If the killer tossed the body overboard because it was his own cabin, we could reasonably identify him quickly by checking the cabin assignments on the decks above your cabin.”
“Then again, maybe the killer murdered his victim in an unoccupied room,” I suggested. “Maybe the perp lured him there. But how would you figure out which room to use? It would have to be empty. Are there a lot of staterooms unoccupied on this cruise?”
“Probably, but I don’t think that’s what happened.”
“Why not?” I wanted to know. He seemed rather definite about that.
“The stewards would have no reason to clean an unoccupied room. In fact, they wouldn’t even need to go into one. By the time the corpse was discovered, who’d remember all the people who passed by that cabin during the cruise?”
I leaned back on the chaise lounge. He was right. “That means the killer killed his victim in a room that was scheduled to be cleaned, even if it wasn’t his stateroom. Why didn’t anyone on the housekeeping staff report any blood? Surely a stab wound in the back would involve blood spatter.”
“The killer must have been able to wipe down any blood residue, which may mean he had time to do it.”
“He’d need cleaning supplies,” I reminded him.
“He would, but he could probably sneak them off one of the housekeeping carts left in the hallway...unless the victim was stabbed on the balcony. It would be easy to clean up any mess out there. I wonder if any time passed between the murder and when the body was actually thrown into the water. Thad and I should go back down to the infirmary and have another look after dinner. There might be sea water in the lungs.”
“What’s Laurel supposed to do while we’re examining the body?”
“While we’re what? No, no. You’re keeping your mother company while Thad and I are gone, Miz Scarlet. Besides, if we’re going to solve the case before this ship ties up to King’s Wharf tomorrow morning, you and I will have to work most of the night.”
“Can I at least ask you what the victim did for a living, just in case it might be relevant to a motive for murder?”
“He was a mortician.”
“Say what?”
“You heard me.”
“Wow. I did not see that coming.”
“It gets better. He owned his own funeral home in Caulkins Cove, Maine and specialized in arranging burials at sea.”
“The guy who was murdered was an undertaker?”
“Yes.” Kenny extended a hand and helped me up from the chaise lounge.
“Why would someone want to do that to him?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, love, but I do know that he was an avid fisherman, a member of his local chamber of commerce, and a popular Little League baseball coach, according to his wife.”
“What you’re telling me is that the man wasn’t part of any criminal element?”
“Remind me to have a word with Larry when we get back to the States.”
“Don’t blame Larry. It was Ruth who filled me in on that one.” Max’s aunt was brought in to do surveillance duty at the Four Acorns Inn when we were being menaced last year. I made a point to bring her coffee and cake during the long hours she was stuck staring at the monitor, watching for signs of trouble. We killed time talking about Ruth’s career as a cop back in the day when women weren’t plentiful in law enforcement. She told me it often worked to her advantage, because the “perps”, as she called them, weren’t expecting her to flash a badge, let alone to cuff them. “Ruth could write a book about her experiences.”
“And no doubt she will. But you don’t become an expert on crime by sitting at her side, listening to her tales of the good times, my love.”
“No, I don’t. But that doesn’t rule out the possibility I might come up with a useful insight now and again,” I reminded him.
“Touché!” he smiled indulgently, giving me a gentle poke in the belly. “Insights I’ll accept. You running around in some crazy hunt for a killer I will not.”
By the time we got back to Stateroom 6615, the man from Mercer Security forced a promise from me not to discuss what he had shared with me about the case with anyone. “Don’t forget, Scarlet, that we do have a very real killer among us. You don’t want him to eavesdrop on conversations detailing our efforts to apprehend him.”
“Fine, but you have to fill me in when you get back from the infirmary. I want all the details.”
“I should have my head examined,” he sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “If it wasn’t for the fact that I’d love to knock Marley Hornsby on his keister, I’d never consider this cockamamie plan of yours.”
“Desperate men do desperate things,” I teased, “and a deal’s a deal. Shall we shake on it?”
I presented my hand, intending to honor the usual negotiating tradition, but Kenny went rogue on me with a long, passionate kiss that left me breathless.
“See you in twenty minutes.” Releasing me from his embrace, he turned and retreated to Stateroom 6613.
Laurel was sitting on the window seat, her gaze focused on the unfolding action in the Royal Promenade below. She was dressed in a rose-colored silk blouse and a white linen skirt, a delicate strand of pearls around her neck. Her purse was in the pouch of her wheelchair, her paisley shawl draped across the back of the seat. She was ready to go.
“Sorry I’m late. I won’t be a tick.”
“Take your time. I’m thoroughly enjoying myself.”
I hurried to pull on a black sheath and pin up my hair. By the time I slipped on my heels and picked up my purse from the dresser, it was eighteen minutes later. A couple of knuckle raps on the connecting door did the trick. Thaddeus opened it, greeting us warmly.
“You ladies look lovely this evening,” said the old charmer.
“You look rather dashing yourself,” Laurel told him, maneuvering her wheelchair through the doorway.
Kenny came out of the bathroom, wiping the shaving cream from his chin on a towel. “I’m running a little behind. There’s been a change of plans, to which I hope you will agree.”
“What might that be?” Laurel wanted to know.
“We’ve been asked to host the murder victim’s widow at our table for dinner this evening. Until the killer is caught, she may be in danger. My buddy, Marley Hornsby, wants her to feel like she’s part of a group this evening. I hope you don’t mind.”
I couldn’t help it. I snickered in anticipation of the opportunity to get up close and personal with a very important witness in the case.
“That summons up the famous Mary Howitt poem. ‘“Will you walk into my parlor,” said the Spider to the Fly. “‘Tis the prettiest little parlor you ever did spy.”’ I do believe that Marley just gave us tickets to the big show.”
“You might say that,” he smiled, trying hard not to grin. Laurel was appalled by our behavior.
“Now, Scarlet, we have no intention of duping this poor woman. She’s just lost her husband,” my mother reminded me. “We will treat her with dignity and compassion.”
“Of course we will,” I agreed readily. “I wasn’t actually referring to her, Mom.”
“Then who?”
“Ah....” I looked at the man in the madras shirt.
“Marley and I are competitors from way back, Mrs. W. I told Scarlet I’d like to solve the mystery to settle an old score.” Kenny gave my mother a big grin. “I hope you’re okay with that.”
“Kenneth, I fear the Wilson family has become a bad influence on you.” She turned her disapproving gaze in my direction.
“Hey, don’t blame me. These guys were in high school together. Their rivalry is decades old.”
“Well, be that as it may, this woman has just lost her husband, so there will be no nonsense where she is concerned. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” I said.
“Absolutely,” Kenny chimed in.
“Now that’s settled, shall we?” Thaddeus opened the door to the corridor and we all filed out.
We took the elevator down one floor and walked to the Botticelli dining room, where we were escorted to our seats by the courtly maître d whose name tag identified him as Jules. The round table was positioned by the balcony, overlooking the two lower dining rooms. I noticed there were five chairs.
“Where would Madam like to sit this evening?” the man in the uniform asked Laurel.
“By the railing, if you don’t mind. I love to have a good view.”
“Of course.” He withdrew one of the chairs so that Laurel could pull her wheelchair into the empty spot.
“There will be one other guest at your table this evening,” Jules announced. “I believe she is on her way as we speak.”
Two minutes later, he was back. Holding his arm was a fifty-something woman dressed in a plain white top and a pair of turquoise slacks. On her wrists were shiny gold bangles that jangled as she moved. At first glance, she looked like any other cruise passenger. But the puffy eyes and quivering lip gave her away. There was no doubt the widow was taking her husband’s death hard.
Thaddeus and Kenny got to their feet, nearly tripping over themselves to be the first to pull out her chair. She had just unfolded her linen napkin and placed it in her lap when Marley appeared.
“I see you’ve all been seated. Kathleen Delaney, these are the people I told you about. Let me introduce you all, starting with the ladies.”
Kathleen did her best to greet each of us, but it was obvious she was having trouble speaking. Her grief was too new.
“And this is my old high school buddy, Ken Tolliver, the man I told you about.” Marley placed his hands on Kenny’s shoulders. “If you have any problems, you just let him know. I’m leaving you in capable hands.”
“Thank you.” A tear dangled on her lower right eyelid for just a moment, and when she blinked, it made a dash for her cheek below, leaving a wet trail on her pale skin.
Our waiter arrived to take our drink orders. “What would you like?”
We went around the table. Laurel decided on white wine. I asked for a mango daiquiri. When it came to Kathleen’s turn, I assumed she would pass. I was surprised when she followed my lead.
“I’ll have one of those too.” She pulled a couple of tissues from her purse and dabbed her eyes.
Kenny asked for a scotch on the rocks. Thaddeus ordered a martini with an onion.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” the new widow sniffed. “I’m not very good company tonight. It’s been a horrible day. I probably should have asked to be seated alone.”
“Don’t be silly,” I replied, taking the bull by the horns. “We’re glad you could join us. We heard about the tragic death of your husband. I’m sure it’s a terrible shock. If it helps, I’m the only one sitting at this table that isn’t widowed.”