Diamond in the Blue: D.I. Simpers Investigates (16 page)

In an instant, all was calm as they allowed the door to close behind them. The two friends looked around them, trying to take in where they were. For sure, it wasn't in a passenger area since the decor was sparse and industrial. They followed a narrow corridor and came across an opening, which had a curtain pulled across that acted as a door.

'Shhh,' said Amelia, 'We need to be quiet. I bet he's in here. I'm going to pull the curtain across and find out what the hell he's up to.'

'Amelia,' replied Jonathan in the quietest voice he could muster, 'I don't think this is a good idea. I think we should…'

Before Jonathan could finish his protestation, Amelia had wrenched the curtain to one side to reveal a startled man staring back at them. Their quarry was sat at a utilitarian desk within the small, spartan space.

The man looked terrified at Amelia's verbal onslaught.

'What are you doing? We been watching you for hours – and we saw you with the Deputy Captain. What's all that writing you've been doing? And what about those notes on the crossword puzzle, eh?'

'I, I don't kn… know what you're talking about. Who are you? What do you want?'

The man seemed to physically shrink into his chair and as far away from Amelia as he thought he could get. His eyes darted to the tiny vertical space between Amelia and the wall. He soon realised any hope of escape was hopeless.

'I'm asking the questions. Now tell me what are you up to?' said Amelia. Her large frame dominated the space, and in particular, the small bald-headed man now looking up to her like a child being scalded by its mother. Jonathan seemed pleased that, for once, it wasn't him on the end of her tongue lashing.

'What's going on here? What's all this noise about?'

Amelia ceased her interrogation. She turned to see the Deputy Captain in the narrow corridor. She felt two pairs of eyes burning into the back of her head, the owners of which had their own, very different reasons for feeling embarrassed.

The diminutive man now found his voice.

'Deputy Captain. These two say they've been following me for hours. The woman keeps asking me all sorts of daft questions about crossword puzzles and writing things down,' offered the man.

The Deputy Captain looked to Jonathan from time to time and kept a measured distance from the young man's reach. He was determined that one bloody nose on this cruise was enough. He needn't have been concerned. Jonathan was enjoying the experience of Amelia getting the wrong end of the stick again.

'He was acting most suspiciously,' said Amelia, 'I just want to protect Mr Simpers. So what was he doing meeting with you, and all those other staff… and then there's all these notes his been writing.'

The man gave Amelia a quizzical look.

'Simpers, who the hell is Mr Simpers?' said the man in a quizzical tone.

The Deputy Captain began to smile.

'No need for you to worry, Mr Smelding, I think I know what's going on here,' replied the Deputy Captain.

Amelia began to frown as she realised she may have, indeed, got things wrong again. She looked at Jonathan daring him to do the 'I told you so' thing again.

'Mrs Reynolds, I'm sure we are all concerned for Mr Simpers' well-being. However, please be assured that Mr Smelding here, has never met and does not know our mutual friend. It may interest you to know that this gentleman is in fact, an aspiring author. He contacted our head office and asked if he could speak to a number of crew to research his book.'

Amelia looked at the bald man who was now returning her gaze with a look of indignation.

'Well… Well, I can only apologise to you, er, Mr Smelding. I do hope your research goes well and you are enjoying your cruise,' said Amelia.

'I was enjoying my cruise fine until you…' replied the man.

'Come along, Jonathan. It's nearly time for afternoon tea and I know you like your clotted cream,' interrupted Amelia, as she left the dingy room at speed. She brushed past the Deputy Captain without making eye contact. She held one arm behind her to encourage Jonathan, as if waiting to receive the baton in a relay race.

'Ah, Mr Simpers, so glad you could join us,' said Amelia. She smiled at the detective. 'It was Jonathan's idea to try the fine dining option this evening. Personally, I object to paying a £30 supplement, but no matter, Jonathan fancied the lobster troubadour.

Simpers sat at a sumptuously laid table set out for four. There were more stewards present than he'd noticed in the main dining room. Perhaps, he thought, that's where the extra money was going. He noticed large black-and-white head shot images of a man dotted around the walls.

'It's that TV chef chappy,' said Amelia as she noticed the detective glancing at the photos. 'You know the one, he's always…'

'Yes, Amelia. I know what you mean. Let's hope tonight's meal isn't quite as fancy as the stuff he normally produces,' replied a sullen Simpers, before adding, 'is it just the three of us, then?'

'It is,' said Amelia, 'well, four if you count Prince Cedric, here. If I may say so, Mr Simpers, you look a little down at heart this evening. Are you all right?'

'Oh dear, I'm sorry. I've got one or two things on my mind at present. Anyway, let's order,' replied Simpers.

As they studied the menus, a flurry of activity was taking place around them. One steward busied himself pouring iced water into a glass for each table guest. Another offered a basket selection of bread to accompany the first course. Yet another floated on the periphery to ensure his two subordinates were carrying out their duties correctly.

As before, the table steward taking the food order didn't alter his demeanour one drop, as Amelia selected the first and main course for Prince Cedric. Unlike in the main dining room, other diners appeared to take no notice at all of Amelia's eccentric companion. Simpers wondered whose eccentricity trumped whose. More likely, he thought, that in the few days they'd been on board, the story of Cedric had spread around the vessel at the speed of light, since it seemed everybody knew everybody else's business.

'So where are the Smeetons this evening?' asked Simpers, trying his best to sound upbeat.

'Ken said they'd been invited to an 'at home' party by a couple they met at some sort of 'get to know you' shindig this afternoon,' said Jonathan.

Simpers had a fair idea what the Smeeton's evening would encompass, since he'd come to realise that they felt most at home getting to know people. Usually when it involved taking their clothes off. Then again, who was he to judge, he thought. One thing he knew for sure. Whenever he came across the couple, they appeared ridiculously happy in each other's company.

As the meal progressed, Simpers' mood didn't improve. He tried his best to join in with the conversation, but his mind was a million miles away. He couldn't stop thinking about Pippa, or how she had used him.

'I think I know why you are so quiet this evening, Mr Simpers,' said Amelia.

The detective looked at his friend and wondered what was coming next.

'Have you two not made up yet?' she said.

'What do you mean?' replied Simpers.

Amelia smiled at the detective and touched the side of her nose with an index finger as if to say, 'I know'.

'Jonathan and I were on our way for a chocolate sundae at the Riviera pool, when we looked down the corridor towards your cabin and saw a young lady coming out. By the time she reached us at the lobby, I noticed her face looked a little tear stained. Anything to do with your mood, Mr Simpers?'

The detective looked startled. He'd been so busy in his own world, he'd forgotten the world went on as normal outside the trials and tribulations of his own existence. Simpers struggled to compose any sort of answer that would satisfy Amelia's curiosity.

'It's quite all right, Mr Simpers. I'm not going to probe. All I'm saying is that Jonathan and I are here any time you need to talk,' said Amelia.

For the second time in a few hours, Simpers felt he was the subject of a counselling session.

'The truth is, Amelia, something happened earlier today that knocked my faith in people. Now, I don't know why that should be the case, since, in the world I live, you get used to things rarely being what they at first seem. You might say it comes with the job.'

Jonathan gave Simpers a curious look, his fork overloaded with the last of his lobster troubadour.

'You don't need to say anything more, Mr Simpers. If this is uncomfortable for you, it's quite all right. It's just important to us that you understand we're concerned for you. It's not just the bangs on the head you seem to have been attracting. We know it must be hard, don't we, Jonathan? offered Amelia.

The young man nodded in agreement, unable to speak since he now had a meaty mouthful of lobster.

Simpers leant forwards in his chair slightly, as if he was about to confide a state secret. As he did so, he lifted the napkin from his lap and placed it neatly onto a plate of half eaten Chicken Kiev in front of him.

'If I was to tell you that…' said Simpers before being interrupted from a voice over his right shoulder.

'Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Tonight we are offering a soft focus photo of each of you individually. May I continue?'

The familiar face of the ship's photographer gestured for Amelia and Jonathan to move apart a little so he could get her in focus. The three companions, like most other passengers aboard, had quickly fallen into the routine of posing on demand.

'And how much will that one cost me?' asked Amelia.

The photographer did his best to keep himself busy and avoid the question. Amelia would not be put off.

'I was asking…' said Amelia.

'Just £20 including a souvenir cover and free shot of this wonderful ship at anchor. A bargain, don't you think?'

Amelia didn't bother to answer the eager photographer, who was methodically working his way around the table. As Simpers continued his earlier conversation, the photographer stood a couple of feet to one side, preoccupied in previewing the photos he’d just taken. As the detective picked up on his earlier conversation, the man continued to fiddle with his camera.

Sensing Simpers' unease at having a stranger stood next to him while he spoke to friends, Amelia interjected.

'I have a confession to make to you, Mr Simpers. Earlier today we got ourselves into a spot of trouble, again.'

Jonathan screwed up his face like a disgruntled teenager.

'When Amelia says, 'we', what she really means is, 'her' – again,' said Jonathan, before continuing, 'Remember the other day when she thought she was on the trail of a villain, well, she did it again just before lunch today.'

Simpers alternated his gaze between his two table companions, his morose manner now giving way to intrigue.

'I don't supposed it included people wearing masks did it?' said Simpers.

'Don't be silly, Mr Simpers – that was just a misunderstanding, wasn't it,' replied Amelia.

They both looked to Jonathan, whose only response was to shrug his shoulders.

'Jonathan, you are daft when you want to be. That's not my type of thing – not at my age anyway.'

The young man looked at Amelia, turned his attention to Simpers, and winked. For the first time that evening, Simpers smiled.

'Anyway,' Amelia continued, 'we saw this chap in the bar talking to the Deputy Captain. He was taking notes as fast as the officer could speak. Well, we thought the whole thing looked a bit shifty, so we followed him, the man with a bald head I mean, not the Deputy Captain, of course.'

Simpers blinked in mock confusion as he listened to the increasingly bizarre tale.

'So in the end, what Amelia is saying is that she cornered the poor bloke in a pokey little office just off the promenade deck. He was terrified, he was,' said Jonathan.

Amelia couldn't hide her irritation at being dobbed in by her erstwhile friend.

'That's not quite how it was, Jonathan, and you know it.'

'That's exactly how it was, Amelia. When the Deputy Captain found us, he gave you are right telling off.'

Simpers' amusement level increased as he thought that people generally paid good money for this sort of entertainment.

'If I remember correctly, he had his eye on you to make sure you didn't smack him across the chops again,' said Amelia with more than a hint of irritation in her voice.

Simpers looked at Jonathan. He knew to what Amelia was referring. He expected more of a reaction from the young man. It was a measure of the close friendship between the two that it didn't come.

'Don't try to pull that one,' said Jonathan, before continuing, 'I was calm, so that was never going to happen. In fact I was having a good laugh at the look on your face – priceless.'

Amelia blushed as she realised that for once, Jonathan had got the mark of her. She gazed over Simpers' shoulder to see the photographer looking straight back at her. He seemed as curious as the detective to hear the punch-line to Amelia's story.

'Can I help you,' said Amelia provocatively, as she tilted her head to ensure the photographer knew she was talking directly to him.

The question had the desired effect as the hapless photographer shuffled off to a nearby table, miffed that he was missing the rest of Amelia's explanation.

'Anyway,' Amelia continued, satisfied no one was in earshot, 'it turned out the bald-headed fellow is a would-be author and is onboard doing some research. It seems the Deputy Captain was in the know. Well, what do you think about that, Mr Simpers?'

The detective's eyes sparkled as he joined Jonathan in letting out a stifled laugh. Their shoulders moved up and down in unison as they enjoyed Amelia's display of indignation.

'What did you think you were going to discover, Amelia?' asked Simpers.

'As I told you. I'm a bit of an amateur sleuth. You're on board investigating a case. You've been bashed about more than once and I decided to get to the bottom of things. That's all there is to it,' replied Amelia in a tone that brooked no contradiction.

Simpers' smile softened as he looked at Amelia.

'Do you know, Amelia, you are a tonic. Believe me, I'm really touched by what the two of you have been up to. But you know, you both could have got hurt. Neither you, nor I, know who we're up against. I want you to…'

'I know,' said Amelia, 'You want us to help you officially on this case, don't you.'

'I was going to say, Amelia. I want you to stop trying to help me. With the best will in the world, and I don't wish to upset either of you, there's a possibility that you'll get in the way of my investigations. And to be honest, I don't want to be responsible for either of you getting hurt, or worse.'

Amelia and Jonathan looked at one another, then at the detective.

'I'll tell you what, Mr Simpers. We'll stop actively investigating the case with you, if you'll agree to use us as a sounding board, so to speak. You know, you're on the ship alone and everyone, even a policemen, needs to confide in someone.'

Simpers looked at his two table companions for a few seconds and pondered what Amelia had said. He realised he had two options. Either to tell them he didn't need their help – which was his preferred way of working. Alternatively, he could humour the pair and risk them accusing him of being patronising. He thought the latter less risky than the pair continuing to place themselves in danger.

'It's a deal, Amelia. If there is anything I need to test out, I'll speak to you two first. In return, you stop playing at detectives.'

'I've never 'played' at anything, Mr Simpers,' said Amelia, making no effort to hide her displeasure.

'I'm sorry, Amelia. That didn't come out the way it was intended. Believe me, when I say that if I need help, it will be to you pair that I'll turn. Promise.'

Simpers' apology did the trick and the tension between the three companions dissipated immediately. Amelia's countenance changed from defensiveness to her usual bubbly self within seconds.

As the table stewards served coffee and after dinner mints, Amelia quickly got back into her stride.

'Well, Mr Simpers. Let's go through what we know about the gems theft, shall we,' she said.

Simpers was already beginning to regret his offer to Amelia. The problem was that she was now in full stride.

'So, we have a gems exhibition that was widely advertised – in fact that's why I booked this cruise. We also have a relatively small place where people are moving around twenty-four hours a day enjoying themselves on holiday. More than that, there are hundreds and hundreds of crew trained to do almost anything that passengers request.'

'And where does that leave us, Amelia? Jonathan, have you any ideas?' said Simpers.

The young man picked up a spoon and spent several seconds stirring his coffee, while gazing deeply into the contents of the cup.

'Well, I think…'

'Oh, Jonathan, I think we both know it's down to the Mafia,' interrupted Amelia.

'The Mafia?' said Jonathan and Simpers, almost in unison.

'I don't think this has got anything to do with that particular type of organised crime, Amelia,' replied Simpers trying his best not to patronise the woman. 'Anyway, what makes you think the Mafia are involved?'