“I’d prefer scotch. Dede keeps a bottle behind the bar. If you don’t mind, I’ll help myself.”

While Finn poured himself a scotch, I grabbed a wineglass from the rack above the bar, filled it from the open bottle, and sat down.

“So, tell me, what do you and Dede like to talk about?”

“What don’t we talk about.” Finn put his drink on the bar and, adjusting the sleeve of his jacket, pointed to a shiny gold bangle bracelet on his wrist. “Oh, did you notice?”

“Is that new?”

“Greta gave it to me. Quite nice, don’t you think?”

I leaned forward to get a better look. The bracelet was similar to several I had seen on the display table at the Professor’s lecture earlier that night. “Is it from their collection?”

“I don’t know…maybe…probably?” Finn glanced at the bracelet. “I didn’t ask. Greta said she wanted me to have it as a thank you for all I’ve done for them. But not to tell her husband.”

I wondered if Greta had given Finn a gold bracelet and if she might also have given Dede the gold coin. I doubted Greta would have given the coin away without her husband’s knowledge, but it was worth asking. I pushed the conversation toward the Brauns and continued to ask more about them.

“That’s very generous of Greta. Was she as generous with Dede?”

“Not at all. Not that Greta didn’t try. She crocheted a handbag for Dede to replace one Dede had recently lost, but Dede didn’t like it. I saw her carry it once before leaving for Naples, but it wasn’t her style. Whatever, I wouldn’t say they were friends. More like socially respectful of each other.”

“I find them an interesting couple. Very knowledgeable.”

Finn covered the bracelet with the cuff of his sleeve and picked up his drink.

“The Professor is for certain. But Greta?” Finn pointed his finger at me. “Don’t quote me.”

I waved my hands in front of my face. “We’re just friends here. Enjoying a drink. You’re not on the record.”

“The woman’s got fluff for brains. The Professor could talk for hours. He drives Dede nuts. She runs the other way when she sees him. She waits to make sure they’ve left their apartment before she goes out, just to avoid them.”

“And what about Dede? What’s she like?”

Finn took a sip of his drink. “Dede’s one of a kind. You’ve heard the expression, an iron fist in a velvet glove? That’s Dede. Not in the conventional sense, of course. She’s no raving beauty. She’s too old and too heavy for that. But she’s a delight. Outspoken and ballsy. Whatever you do, don’t get in her way. But, between you and me, Dede Drummerhausen is the most stable person onboard. I’d trust her with my life.”

“That’s quite a description.”

“If you really want to know about Dede, ask Neil. He was good friends with her late husband. They were business partners. They spent a lot of time together. Socializing. Entertaining. It wasn’t until Dede’s husband passed that Dede and I got close. Like I said, we enjoy a nightcap now and again but don’t tell Neil I told you. He would disapprove.”

“Your secret’s safe with me. But tell me, how is it you came to work onboard, and how did you meet Neil?”

“Ahh, that’s easy.” Finn got up and went to the glass doors overlooking Dede’s private deck. “I fell in love with Neil Webster the minute I saw him. I know that sounds crazy, but I did. I was working aboard a cruise ship when Athena pulled in beside us in Porto, Portugal. Neil was on the Sun Deck. A tall, nerdy-looking blond dressed in a suit. He was there on business. I didn’t know who he was at the time. All I knew was that I had to meet him. I won’t say I stalked him, but I did follow him to a bar in town, and the rest is history. He offered me a job and my own suite aboard Athena. We don’t live together for appearance’s sake, but we’ve been together ever since. Except when he’s off on business traipsing around the world raising money for one thing or another.”

“Leaving you behind to keep things afloat?”

Finn crossed back to the bar and put his drink down. “I’ve learned not to complain. Being Neil’s paramour has advantages, and I have a good life.” Finn returned to the bar and finished his drink. “It’s late, and I’ve bent your ear long enough. I should be on my way.”

I walked Finn to the door, bid him good night, then checked to make sure Dede’s black crocheted bag was still inside the drawer of the entry table. Satisfied it was where I had left it, I closed the drawer and headed to the bedroom, then opened the envelope Finn had given me.

Dear Ms. Lawson,

On behalf of Athena’s staff, I would like to welcome you aboard and offer you a complimentary massage and use of the gym during your stay. I look forward to helping to make your visit a healthy, happy experience. Please call for an appointment,

Elli Webster

Extension 1505

I stared at the signature. Elli Webster? Her last name wasn’t lost on me, nor what I thought was Elli’s British accent—not British at all—but South African. A little too much of a coincidence not to be connected to Neil Webster. The Churchill sisters had said Neil was an only child, his only surviving relative an uncle who wanted nothing to do with the boy after his parents died. And yet, here was this girl, younger by at least twenty-five years and on summer break from California. What were the chances? I picked up the cabin phone, dialed her number, and left a message.

“Hi, Elli, it’s Kat Lawson. I’d like to take you up on your offer for a massage. If you’ve time tomorrow afternoon, I should be back on board after my morning visit to the island sometime after 2 p.m. Call me back. Extension 1221.”

Chapter Thirteen

Ihad coffee in my cabin the following morning. Like Dede, I wanted to wait until I was sure the Professor and Greta had left their apartment before I ventured out and risked running into the Professor. As a travel reporter, I needed time on my own to do my job, and I spent the early morning reading through my guidebook about the sights I planned to visit and still be back in time for my massage later that afternoon. Not so much because I needed a massage, but to collect information about some of those on board.

My former boss used to tell me whoever coined the phrase, Only her hairdresser knows for sure, would have made a damn good investigative reporter. People talk, he said. You want to know about someone. Talk to everybody who knows them. Priests. Tax Accountants. Best friends. Even their damn hairdresser. And under the circumstances, I hoped I could coax Elli into sharing some of what she knew about Neil Webster and maybe the Professor and Inspector Garnier while she worked out the kinks in my neck.

By nine o’clock, I tossed my guidebook into my backpack and dressed quickly. Taking a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from the closet, I slipped into my tennis shoes, grabbed my coffee, and headed outside to the living room deck for a view of Ischia and the Aragone Castle. The weather was picture-perfect. Small fishing boats bobbed in the harbor, protected from the open sea by a causeway connecting Ischia’s island to the Castle, which looked like it rose from the sea like a giant rock. It was hard to imagine, as pristine as everything looked, that somewhere beneath the calm turquoise-blue waters lay the legendary sunken city of Aenaria, dating back to the end of the first century BC, a once great port and center for trade in the Mediterranean.

Anxious for pictures, I snapped several, then, checking my watch, swigged down what was left of my cold coffee. It was 9:25 a.m. I figured I had waited long enough for the Professor and his group to disembark for their tour. I stuffed my camera inside my backpack, then headed downstairs to the Marina Deck to catch one of the morning shuttles to the island.

Unfortunately, the tenders had been running late, and the Professor, Greta, and Camile were waiting with a small group of residents. Upon seeing me, Camile turned her back while Greta left her husband’s side and approached.

“Oh, there you are. I was tempted to knock on your door this morning. Will you be joining the tour?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” I feigned disappointment. But after dinner with the Churchill sisters and Inspector Garnier and Camile’s chilly reception, I had begun to feel my presence on board, while known to all, was less than welcome and that the observer had become the observed. “My publisher’s given me a long list of places to see and photograph. And I have an appointment this afternoon for a massage.”

“Such a shame. You’ll miss The Atelier delle Dolcezze.” Greta put her hand on her stomach and licked her lips.

The Professor took his wife’s hand. “Don’t let the name mislead you. It’s more than a chocolatier. It’s an art gallery. Once the meeting place for young arts and cultural types and today, according to my wife—home to the best chocolate in all of Italy.”

The midshipman who manned the Marina portal interrupted and held out his hand. “Let’s go, people.” Athena’s tender had arrived. Patiently, the young sailor helped those in line ahead of me through the narrow door and down the short rope ladder to the awaiting tender.

I stepped back and told the Professor to go ahead. “Looks like this is going to be a full boat. You have a tour to give. I’ll catch the next shuttle.”

The Professor squeezed around me. “Whatever you say, Ms. Lawson. But tomorrow, no excuses. I want you with me on the dive to Aenaria. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen or ever will again. Promise me.”

“I’ll be there.” I waved goodbye, relieved I wouldn’t be spending the morning in the Professor’s company, and found a seat near the pool where I could wait for the following tender to arrive and pulled my guidebook out from my backpack.

“Morning, Kat. You planning to go ashore?” I looked up from my guidebook to see Neil. He stepped back and adjusted his baseball hat. “If you are, I know a good tour guide. That is if you don’t mind sitting on the back of a Vespa.”

“You driving?” I stood up and stuffed my guidebook back inside my backpack.

“Unless you’d like to. But if you don’t know where you’re going, I wouldn’t advise it. The streets can be challenging, and the locals here don’t all speak English. Ischia isn’t your typical tourist trap.”

I shifted my backpack to my back. “I’m in, but I need to be back onboard by—”

“Two. Yes, I know. You have a massage scheduled.”