She moved past me, leaving me at the door. “Close it, close it. Did you hear?”
Since my answer to that question from her was always no because she heard things first, I said, “What?”
“We’re not stopping in the Bahamas.”
“What? Really?”
“The official reason is the weather’s too windy—”
“But it’s better.”
“Because we sailed away from the rough weather overnight. We’re well away from the Bahamas right now. Anyway, the official reason is it wasn’t safe to use the tender to get us to the beach—”
“Oh, my God, the tender.”
That sneaky, sneaky Edgars.
We, however, shall be turning him over to the authorities at the first place we dock.
He’d said that to make me think Badar would be dropped in the Bahamas as the culprit while they washed their hands of him and the investigation, the entire time knowing the Diversion wouldn’t dock until Tampa.
“—but the rumor is it’s even more because the Bahamas don’t want this investigation. Oh, my God, the tender what?”
“I think you might be right. Or the cruise officials don’t want to hand the investigation over to them.” I told her what Edgars said. “But we were never going to dock. Because they use the tender to transport passengers to that beach. Why give me a song and dance about it?” I shook my head. “Never mind. If they’re not taking Badar off, we have time — some time.”
“Not we. You, Sheila.”
“No, definitely we. Lots of we. You should have heard Petronella last night. She was helping me sort out the possible suspects, plus adding observations. And all the information you’ve brought?” I gestured for her to sit on the couch. “Let’s think this through, starting with the basics. Means, motive—”
“How much time do you have? The list could cover everyone on the ship.”
I acknowledged that with a grimace.
“—opportunity. Means is probably her own cane, which—”
“Now that’s something I didn’t know.”
“I overheard the doctor after I found her. He said there was a skin tear—” I hadn’t mentioned the blood on my finger to anyone beyond the ship officials. “—but it probably happened when someone did the same damage as strangling would, by putting something hard and round across her throat.”
“Nasty.”
“How much strength would that take?” I asked rhetorically. “She was small and not strong, but people don’t die from strangling or this version of it in a few seconds. It had to be someone strong enough to control her. Plus, they haven’t found her cane. Not anywhere.”
“There’s an argument, the murderer takes her cane away, and uses it against her?”
“Mmm-hmm. Then wraps her in towels and carries her to the chair. Presumably because they didn’t want an examination of where the murder occurred. But why that spot? You know, that video took a lot of work to get it improved to the point it could be called awful. But other shots I saw running in the room were quite clear.”
Her eyebrows went up. “Someone fooled with the video?”
“They wouldn’t have to. That spot has lousy lighting. Especially at night. I think it was chosen for that reason. And, think about this, Catherine, if Edgars had clear video from anywhere else in the ship, like where she was killed or of the murderer carrying her, he’d use it to make an identification.”
“Meaning nothing else shows on video?”
“Exactly. Which means the person knew where the security cameras covered and where they didn’t.”
“My, oh, my.”
“So, who knows where the security cameras covers?”
“The head of security,” she said immediately. I almost wished… She quickly went on, “Truly, I’d say most of the crew, if not all. They’re human. Surely things go on they don’t want known.”
“Makes sense. And they’d learn and share with each other.”
“They would. Repeat passengers, as well, learning and sharing. I’ve heard a frequent cruiser in his cups tell another how to get from one cabin to another without anyone the wiser. I couldn’t repeat it now, but there are some who could trace the path.”
She’d confirmed my speculations. Unfortunately, it didn’t eliminate any of the possibilities listed on my notes. “I have another question for you, cruise expert that you are. Why would Badar and a bartender be nervous about people knowing the guitarist, Pyorte, was in their room?”
“A bartender? That numpty, Jason?”
“That—? Never mind. I can tell from your tone.” Though I hate to think too badly of someone who served me Veuve Clicquot.
“It’s not crude,” she said in mock indignation.
“Too bad. What do you know about him?”
She hitched a shoulder. “That I’d swear an oath to?”
“Between us.”
“He’s known multiple female passengers in the biblical sense, no matter the rule against fraternizing between crew and guests. He pursues them. None worry about a budget.”
I remembered his exchange of looks with the Valkyrie named Piper. Was something going on there as well as with the redhead? I wouldn’t have said it was sexual. Or… not only sexual. There’d definitely been communication in it. But then there’d been his attention to the redhead.
Hold on to that for later.
“The bartender I meant wasn’t Jason. It’s a young guy. Nice. At the poolside bar.”
“Constantine.”
Of course she knew who I meant. “Yes. Why would he be worried? Him, Badar, and Pyorte. None were fraternizing with passengers.” If anything, Pyorte did his darnedest not to fraternize with Leah.
“There are other rules they could be breaking.”
Our gazes met.
She shrugged. “They have crew bars with drinks for considerably less than we pay, but some might want something else.”
“Could be. But what other rules are possible?”
“Safety, health, politeness, no side jobs, though tips—”
“Side jobs?”
“They work for the cruise line. They’re not to work another job.”
I raised one “ah-hah” finger. “I wonder…”
Before I could voice my wondering, the PA system came to life.
The captain told us what I already knew thanks to Catherine — the Diversion wouldn’t stop until we reached Tampa. Out of concern for the safety of the passengers.
The windy weather made use of the tender to reach the Bahama beach unsafe.
Catherine looked at me questioningly. I might have ground my teeth at the mention of the tender.
Was I making too much of myself to wonder if Edgars meant to turn the heat up on me like I was one of Odette’s frogs?
Oh.
Frogs.
What if one of the frogs, did notice as it got hotter and hotter? What would it do? Especially if it had the means to strike down the person turning up the temperature?
Before exploring that, I had other important elements to pin down. Like my latest earworm.
* * * *
I made a dash to the spa. Imka wasn’t there. Under the disapproving frown of the receptionist, I asked her friend, Bennie, a handful of questions.
Then, I spent considerable time on my balcony, repeating the nonsense syllables —sounds — over and over. Hoping the wind would reorder them to somehow make sense.
No luck.
When my throat felt scratchy, I gave up.
That brain block remained.
But I’d had an idea about patterns.
* * * *
Petronella and I ate lunch in the buffet, because she insisted I needed to get out of the cabin. Yesterday she’d wanted me in it, today out. Don’t ask me.
She kept giving me concerned looks as we went from food station to food station.
“May we join you?”
Her question pulled me out of my fog and I realized she’d found the same marijuana-farm-bound young man at a table alone.
She looked at me like a cat who’d brought its first dead mouse home to its owners.
I maneuvered to put two table legs between us. He and Petronella carried the conversation. Turned out he liked to bake as much as she did. Though I suspected he added an ingredient to his brownies she didn’t.
By the end of the meal, I’d made one decision, anyway.
When I stood, Petronella did, too. “I’m going with you.”
“I’m going to talk to Odette, if she’ll talk. I want to follow up on something, plus ask her about Wardham and—” I gave her a significant look. “—yesterday morning.”
She swallowed hard. “I’m coming.”