Mystral Murder (Julie O'Hara Mystery Series) (18 page)

“Yeah?
Who is it?”

“It’s Joe Garrett, Dale.”

Locks released. “Oh, hi. C’mon in,” Dale said with a look of mild surprise. He looked better than he had of late, dressed decently in khaki pants, a shirt and a crewneck sweater.

Julie followed Joe in, a copy of her book,
Clues
, in hand. She saw the change in Dale right away.
Good, he hasn’t been drinking
. “Hi, Dale…how’re you doing?”

“I’m okay, Julie…thanks.”

Joe couldn’t help himself. There was just something likeable about Dale Simpson, and Joe was glad to see the guy cleaned up and sober. He put his hand on Dale’s shoulder and smiled.  “You’re looking better, buddy.”

“Thanks, Joe. Have a seat. Can I get you
two something? I’ve sworn off the hard stuff, myself. Been overdoing it the last few days.”

“No, thanks,” Joe said. “Julie found something of Adrienne’s she wanted to give you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Julie said, handing him Adrienne’s pen. “She gave me this to sign her copy of my book, see?”  Julie opened the inside cover on a new copy where she’d just written:

June 18, 2012

For Adrienne
Paradis

Best wishes,

Julie O’Hara

“I thought you’d want to have them,” she said, handing him the book, all the while studying him carefully.

Dale appeared to be genuinely puzzled. He looked from Julie to the book, making no attempt to avert his gaze as one does when uncomfortable or guilty. He held the book and the pen in his left hand. His right hand was at his chin, positioned in the classic pose of Rodin’s “Thinker”, with his index finger along his cheek and the other fingers curled under his mouth. His eyebrows were drawn together and he held the side of his lower lip between his teeth. Everything about him displayed his confusion.

“That’s funny; she left these at the seminar?” He scratched his head. “I could have sworn she showed me your book right before we went to dinner. In fact, I
know
she did!” Dale stared at Julie now, his brow furrowed. “I sat right here and looked through it! How did you get these?”

Joe looked at Julie as if to say,
“I told you it wasn’t him.”

“You’re right, Dale,” Julie said. “That’s not her book. That’s another copy, and I just autographed it ten minutes ago.”

“I don’t understand. This is her pen.”

“I know. I’m sorry, but I had to test you with the book.” She took it back from him and set it on the coffee table. “Come. Sit down. We’ve got some important information for you. I want to tell you how I came to have Adrienne’s pen, and why my book is significant in all this.”

Joe and Dale joined her around the coffee table.

“Monday, the eighteenth, the night of the Captain’s Table dinner, Joe and I had a serious argument. Yes, some of it was sparked by Adrienne’s behavior toward Joe, but mostly it was about Joe’s drinking.”

Joe cut in. “I go to AA, Dale. Didn’t have a drink in years. Not until I got on this ship. Julie never saw me drunk before.”

Julie nodded. “I over-reacted when Joe didn’t want to leave the Top Hat. I went back to our stateroom alone, but I was so upset I didn’t want to be there when he returned. I tried to get another cabin, but nothing was available, so I changed into a pair of black Capri pants and went
up to Deck 12, to the Solaria spa. I stretched out on a chaise up there and I took a sleeping pill…an Ambien.”

“
Ambien? That was risky,” Dale said. “You could have got up and wandered around. I’ve heard of people doing that, even driving with no memory of it after taking those pills.”

“Exactly.
I’m glad you’re familiar with that, because that’s how I got Adrienne’s pen. I just found it tonight in the pocket of the pants I was wearing. I’m convinced that we met up there, even though I have no memory of it. Here’s what I think happened:

“First of all, you need to know that Adrienne left the Top Hat club and came back here to get her copy of
Clues
. According to Cathy Byrne, she wanted me to sign it. I think she knew I was mad at her for dancing and flirting with Joe. But, for whatever reason, she brought it back to the Top Hat. By that time, I was gone and so were you.”

“Yes. I was mad at her, too. I went to the Casino.”

“When the bartender was closing up, Adrienne told Joe she wanted to go for a walk on the deck,” Julie said.

Joe nodded. “I wasn’t interested in that; I wanted to find another bar.”

“Anyway, Joe headed for the Promenade, and Adrienne went outside on Deck 12. When she got as far as the jogging trail, she must have seen me sleeping on the chaise in front of the spa; there was a recessed light directly over my head there. Although I don’t remember it, I’m certain Adrienne brought the book over to me and gave me that pen to sign it with.”

Dale was still confused. “I don’t quite understand…”

“Dale, I’m sorry to say it, but I think Adrienne was stalked and attacked right after that. My point is that no one being thrown off a ship is going to hang on to a book. I think her copy fell on the deck.”

“But they didn’t mention finding any book. They don’t even know where she went over.”

“That’s just it; I think the killer picked it up! Not only that,
I bet he still has it.
There was no time to decide whether to throw it overboard or not because of the spotlight camera panning fore and aft. Under pressure to do something or not do it, most people pick the safest choice…they do
nothing
. The killer had to duck to get out of sight, to make sure he didn’t get caught on video. I think he grabbed the book and ran.”

“For God’s sake!
Do you know who he is?”

“We think it was Gabe Rossi, the bartender who closed up the Top Hat that night. We just found out today that he has a history of rape and fooling around with female passengers. As an employee, he would have known about the cameras and where to hide to avoid them. We couldn’t figure out any way to connect him to Adrienne, but if he’s got her book…”

Dale jumped up and headed for the door. “That bastard’s probably up there now!”

Joe grabbed him. “Wait, Dale! Rossi
is
working the Top Hat tonight; we called to check. But we need to search his room and we’ve got no way to do it. We have to get Security involved here.”

“Security?
That’s a laugh! It’s a closed case, as far as they’re concerned.”

Julie put a calming hand on his arm. “I know. You’re right. Clyde Williams isn’t going to listen to us, particularly at this late hour. But I’ve got a plan.”  Julie pulled the Hotel Manager’s card from her pocket. “Bob Sanchez knows about the problems with Rossi. In fact, Rossi doesn’t know it, but he’s getting fired tomorrow.  I’m going to see if I can get Sanchez to convince Security to search his quarters tonight.”

Dale spoke with controlled fury.  “Call him. Now.”

*
* * * *

CHAPTER 48

I
t was Friday, the last night of the cruise, and Gabe Rossi was having a very good night. Thanks to the crowd in the Top Hat club, his tip envelopes were piling up nicely. He was working the service bar, bantering with the waitresses as they queued up to get their drink orders. One of them, who wouldn’t have been old enough to serve drinks in the US, had caught his eye. She was Gabe’s type: tiny, dark-haired and playful. He felt himself getting hard.
I know what to do with a smart mouth like yours.
He smiled at her, flashing his beautiful white teeth and winked.

Behind the young girl, the heavy tempered-glass doors to the top-most deck were a barrier, separating all the music and gaiety inside the club from the wild wind and rain outside. If not for tropical storm Beryl, the service bar would be supplying drinks for passengers sitting at tables out there. Many of them would be relaxing by the railing, watching the
Mystral’s wake in the moonlight. As it was, flashes of lightening lit a bare expanse, a sheet of water rushing one way across the empty deck and then the other.

Gabe liked stormy weather. It was exciting and everyone partied like hell.

He’d have liked to see some of them go to hell, mostly men. Especially the rich ones like Gill Byrne. Women swooned around Byrne; he could have any one of them, anytime.
There’s nothing special about him,
Gabe thought.
It’s all about his money
.  Bitches suck up to money and power. Like Adrienne Paradis, for example. Why else was she fucking an old married man like Byrne?

Gabe flexed the muscles in his broad shoulders, his biceps stretching the short white sleeves of his shirt.  He unconsciously tightened his abs.
I could have shown Adrienne what a real power fuck was.

Gabe had been setting up Adrienne
Paradis for the last two cruises, reeling her in like a fish on a line. She was seeking him out, always showing up at whatever bar he was working, usually with the ballplayer in tow and the Byrnes.  She didn’t seem to care about her husband.
She got off on making Gill Byrne jealous, knowing he couldn’t do anything about it. 

Gabe played the game because he got a kick out of that, too. But that last night should have been perfect.  The Top Hat wasn’t busy and he was closing up alone.
Adrienne’s eyelids were at half-mast; he could tell the drug was taking effect:

“Where are you going? I thought you were going to stay and have a drink with me.”

“I need to go get a book. I’ll be right back. Don’t worry; I’ll hang around.”

Except Joe Garrett hung around, too, and fucked everything up.

It replayed in his head like a bad song that wouldn’t die…

***

Monday nights usually sucked, but not as bad as this one.  Gabe was all done cleaning up and he was getting madder and madder watching Adrienne hold hands with that drunken bum, Garrett. He went to the dimmer, turned the lights up full and tried to keep the anger out of his voice.

“That’s it, folks…closing up now!”

Joe Garrett stood and pulled Adrienne up, too.

“C’mon, let’s go find somewhere else to talk.”

No, no! Gabe thought, as Garrett led her toward the etched glass double-doors, which stood open to the hall and the elevators.

Adrienne stopped and Gabe was relieved. “Wait a minute, Joe.”

She returned to the table and Gabe smiled at her. Atta girl, he thought.

“I forgot my book,” she said, waving it. “Good night, Gabe.”

Good night? You bitch, Gabe thought. You BITCH!

He switched off the lights and hurried across the club to lock the doors behind them. If he could have slammed them, he would have, but they closed slowly on their own.
Garrett and Adrienne stood there in the hall at the elevators, oblivious, their backs to him. Gabe was furious; he stood there in the dark, his blood boiling, watching them through the etched glass. 

“Shit, it’s not working,” said Garrett. “C’mon. Let’s go down to the pub.”

They took a few steps over to the stairs and Adrienne threw her arms around him and said, “Darling, I want to go for a walk outside.  Come with me.”

That BITCH!

“Nah. You go. I’m going downstairs.”

Then she fucking kissed him goodnight…and Gabe decided to kill her.

Adrienne went out the starboard-side door at the end of the hall. A minute or two later, Gabe saw her come around and walk past the glass doors at the rear of the club. He ran to the doors and let himself out onto the deck hoping to trap her there, but she had already turned right and was walking up the port-side of the ship.

He walked fast, looking up, aware of the spotlight camera that hung from the bridge and panned fore and aft. Damn, it’s turning back this way!

Suddenly, up ahead, Adrienne staggered off to the right. Good, he thought. She’s out of camera range. I’ll fuck the bitch first and then kill her! He cut in and saw her and then stopped cold, ducking into a dark corner.

He was beyond furious now. Who the hell is THAT?

While the spotlight panned the railing from the front of the ship to the back, an odd tableau played out in the shadows by the Solaria spa. Gabe watched as Adrienne shook and awakened Julie O’Hara, the body language expert. O’Hara scribbled something in Adrienne’s book and immediately turned over and appeared to go back to sleep.

Adrienne stood there for a moment. Then she staggered back onto the jogging trail in the dark wake of the spotlight, panning back toward the front of the
Mystral.

The BITCH was just standing there at the railing, asking for it!

Gabe rushed up and heaved her over the side.

The spotlight was headed back. What to do with her fucking book?

He grabbed it and ran.

***

“Gabe, Gabe? Hey! You got my martinis ready?”  It was Adele, one of the older cocktail waitresses who’d been working in the Top Hat all week. Gabe hadn’t realized it, but he’d actually stopped working and was staring out the glass doors.