“Nice, don’t you think?” Marco held his hand out so I might admire it.
“Excusez-moi.” Camile squeezed between Greta and me and took a bronze cuff bracelet from the table.
I put down the coin I had been looking at and stepped back from the table. Then, I took my camera from my bag and clicked off several shots. The table and the crowd around it would be perfect for my story. But before I could get any close-up shots of the table and items on it, Professor Braun stopped me.
“Please, no photographs.” The Professor put his hand in front of my lens. “It’s fine for our little group on board to see, but I’d prefer you not take pictures. Some of what’s on the table is very valuable, and I’ve been entrusted to transport these items to a museum in Alexandria. I’m sure you understand. Security reasons, you know.”
I pulled my camera away from his hand. “Then how about one of you in front of the whiteboards?”
“Happy to oblige.” The Professor stepped back behind the podium and, taking his laser pointer, directed it to the map of the Great Sea.
I took several shots and started to put my camera away.
“Will you be going ashore tomorrow? There’s a lot to see in Ischia. You’re welcome to join my tour, but a word of warning: with this crowd, you could probably cover more ground on your own and spend the afternoon enjoying one of the spas or the mineral baths. But the day after, I’ve put together a special tour, and I hope you want to join us for our dive to Aenaria.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. I was concerned about a deep-sea dive in a part of the world I didn’t know much about, particularly with a group of people I didn’t know, and some, like the Inspector, who I felt might be uncomfortable with a reporter in their presence. But I chose to ignore the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach in favor of visiting the sunken city. I’m a strong swimmer. Coming from the desert, I had spent my youth on swim teams and told myself the dive couldn’t be all that difficult.
“Good. It will be my pleasure to show you. Meet us on the Marina Deck. I’ve arranged a special tender to take us to our dive spot. Thursday. Two p.m.”
Chapter Eleven
As I left the conference room, the man I had seen arguing with the Professor earlier that night pushed past me, bumping my camera from my shoulder as he reentered the room. I felt like I had been hit by a linebacker.
Realizing he had knocked me aside, he stopped and addressed me. His voice was gruff. “Kat Lawson?”
I stepped back and noticed several people exiting the conference room had stopped to watch.
“My name’s Oleg Sidorov. You are visiting journalist, correct?”
I nodded. My hand gently massaged my shoulder.
“I saw your name in paper this morning. Please, I need to speak with Professor Braun before he leaves. Is urgent. But we talk. I’ve stories about Athena you need to know. Call me. My number is in the ship directory.” Then, patting my hand on my bruised shoulder, he left me standing in the doorway and hurried toward the podium.
Whoever Oleg Sidorov was, I made a mental note to take the Russian up on his offer. If Oleg knew stories about Athena’s past or had information about some of her residents, I sensed he’d be a good source, and I looked forward to talking with him.
But until then, I planned to visit with as many of Athena’s residents as possible and headed to the lobby, where a group had gathered to discuss tonight’s lecture. I was pleasantly surprised when I noticed Byard standing beneath Athena’s statue.
“Are you looking for me?” I repositioned my camera from my bruised shoulder and smiled.
“I could be if you wanted me to be.” Byard’s grin suggested he had been waiting for me despite our canceled dinner.
“You have time for a stroll? I was hoping we might chat.”
I led the way through the Promenade doors to the deck and stopped at the railing. The water was smooth, like black glass beneath a full moon, and the evening breeze felt like silk against my skin. I would have welcomed a romantic stroll beneath the stars any other time, but tonight, I needed information. I curled my fingers around the railing.
Byard pointed to the lights beyond Athena’s stern. “Peaceful, isn’t it?”
“It’s like another world.”
“The Romans would have agreed with you. They named Procida the first of the Poet Islands. They considered her the stomping ground for poets and writers. Tomorrow, we’ll visit Ischia, and after that, Capri.”
“You enjoy this, don’t you? Being captain of a luxury cruiser? Sailing around the world, charting your own courses. Making your own timeline.”
“It’s not always easy. There are days when catering to the whims of our residents can get difficult.”
“Like herding cats?’ I chuckled. “Don’t forget, I’ve met several. Between a few peculiarities and conspiracy theories, you have your hands full.”
“I’m not complaining. We have a few oddballs. But most of our residents are quiet retirees. Some are a little grumpy or opinionated. Fact is, they want what they want, but they’ve earned the right.”
“Have they?”
“You don’t think so?”
“I would agree that retirees are entitled to their opinions and their proclivities. I live with my grandmother. She’s a child from the Depression, and she has a host of habits I disagree with. She still splits a stick of gum in half to save a dime. Which makes me wonder. How can someone like the Professor afford such a luxurious lifestyle?”
Byard bit his lip and shook his head. If he knew anything about the Professor’s financing, he wasn’t about to say.
“I’m afraid I can’t answer that. It’s not my job to screen residents. If you’re curious about any of them, you should talk to Oleg Sidorov. He handles the sale of Athena’s suites, the association dues, and management fees. He’s had that job since he first came aboard. Neil calls Oleg Commandant of the Pepsi Navy.”
“The Pepsi Navy?”
“Ever hear of it?”
“No. Should I have?”
“Maybe not, but back when the Soviet Union fell apart, their fleet, or a lot of it anyway, was like everything else in Russia, broken, falling apart, and not worth a crap—just a bunch of rusted hulls. Some of it was barely able to float. But Oleg saw an opportunity. Several years before, he had arranged for Pepsi to be distributed in the Soviet Union and introduced the soft drink to Russia. The Russians loved it. But when it came to paying the bill, Russia was strapped. Oleg went back to Pepsi and negotiated for Russia to give Pepsi seventeen rusted Russian subs, along with a frigate, a cruiser, and a destroyer, in exchange for their past due bill.”
“You’re joking.”
