“No. Not at all.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because someone like Dede doesn’t go overboard without making a big splash.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Ileft Marco in the café and, as I returned to Dede’s apartment, wondered if I was the last rational being on board. As a reporter, I interviewed convicts, murderers and thieves, witnesses, and sources whose identities I had sworn not to reveal. But I had never been in the middle of an investigation—or, for that matter, the middle of the ocean—with a group of aging seniors, who, given the chance to cash in on a pirate’s bounty to subsidize their dwindling assets, all had a very plausible motive. Captain Byard would have me think the Churchill sisters and Marco, while showing early signs of dementia, were harmless. But the facts around me, the coin inside Dede’s bag, Oleg’s murder, and possibly the death of the previous captain, had me thinking that Marco and the Churchill sisters weren’t at all delusional—but right. There was something very sinister going on.
A fact that was ever more present when I opened the door to Dede’s cabin and realized someone had been inside. I had been so rushed to meet Marco for tea earlier that I hadn’t noticed the entry table’s partially open drawer as I left the apartment. But now that I had returned and shut the front door behind me, I could see that the drawer hadn’t been completely closed. The small black crocheted bag I had left folded over on itself inside had been moved and now lay flat in the drawer. Fearing the worst, I went immediately to the safe in my closet to ensure the Brutus coin was where I had left it, hidden beneath the safe’s lining. I had no way of knowing if the safe had been opened, only that the coin had been left undisturbed, along with my notepad.
I knew Finn wasn’t to blame. If Finn had wanted to go through Dede’s things, he had ample opportunity, and I had been very clear I didn’t want anyone in the apartment while I was away. I returned to the bedroom to search for clues about who might have been in the apartment. The bedroom looked as messy as I had left it that morning. The bed was unmade. The towel I’d used to dry off from my morning shower was still on the floor. I’ve never been a neatnik, but as I took inventory, I noticed one thing was out of place or, better yet…missing. The chocolates. Finn had left them on my nightstand my first night aboard, and now, they were gone. And I had a good idea who might have taken them.
The Professor knew I would be gone for the day. It would have been easy for him to ask his wife to search through the apartment while I was out. All Greta had to do was wait until Finn opened Dede’s front door to place the mail inside, then call him for a favor. And based upon the gold bracelet Greta had given him, something Finn would likely do. I could picture the scene. Greta asked Finn to fetch her something while she slipped into Dede’s apartment and searched for her handbag and the gold coin inside. Not finding the coin, Greta panicked. She tore through the apartment in a desperate search, looked under the bed, tossed the pillows on the floor, and in the closet. If she had seen the safe, it would only have frustrated her. She couldn’t have opened it, and being the chocoholic she was, and no doubt stressed by the situation—knowing Finn might be back at any moment—she would have snatched the chocolates off the nightstand and popped them in her mouth as she left the apartment.
I picked a pillow up off the floor. If Greta had found the bag and knew the coin wasn’t inside, did she think I had it or that Dede had found it and taken it with her or hidden it somewhere? I tossed the pillow back on the bed and was about to make it when the doorbell rang.
“Hello?” I peered through the peephole and saw Neil Webster holding an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne. “Just a minute.”
I opened the door, and Neil went straight to the kitchen as though he had been invited in.
“Oh, good. You’re here. I wanted to check in on you. How was the dive today?”
“Fine.” I followed Neil to the kitchen. “I’m sorry, did we have—”
“Plans? No. But I was concerned about you. Antonio told me what happened with Marco on the dive this afternoon and thought it might have upset you. Marco really shouldn’t be diving. Poor old chap. He knows better. I wanted to check and make sure you were okay.”
So this was how Neil planned to discover what was happening with me. I sat down at the kitchen bar while Neil searched around the kitchen for a towel and, finding one beneath the sink, used it to twist the cork from the champagne.
“No need to worry,” I said. “It was nothing. Looked like Marco had an anxiety attack, and Doctor Jon took care of him immediately. Not a big deal. I’m fine. I promise you. And if you’re worried about the story, don’t be. We had a great dive. My readers will be impressed. There’s no need for me to mention anything at all about it.” I wanted to get off the subject of my dive as quickly as I could and push the conversation away from me and back onto Neil. “More importantly, how was your day?”
“You mean concerning the paperwork for Oleg’s death?”
“It can’t be easy losing a long-time resident.”
“Can’t say it is.” Neil crossed from the kitchen to the bar and returned with two champagne flutes he rinsed in the sink. “I liked Oleg. We go back a long way. I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t convinced Dede’s husband and me to buy Athena. He was the consummate salesman. Put together a lot of deals. Had a lot of crazy stories. I’m not sure you could believe half of them, but he was entertaining. Did you get a chance to chat with him?”
There it was. Had I talked to Oleg? The same question I had dodged earlier when Sully had asked. And Marco believed the Gang of Eight was so concerned about. I shook my head. I sensed Neil might have been digging.
“No. I never did. We bumped into one another as I was leaving Professor Braun’s lecture. He said he wanted to talk, but then—”
“He died.” Neil picked up a dish towel and started to dry the glasses. “I’m sorry that happened while you were aboard. Things like this are never easy. When you have a shipboard full of aging seniors, death goes with the territory.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“I know Doctor Jon listed the cause of death as a heart attack. It could be Oleg had too much to drink. Professor Braun and Greta said he looked drunk when they saw him leaning against the railing. But at this point, it doesn’t matter. I filled out the forms. Signed a few papers, and that’s it. We’ll drop Oleg’s body in Sorrento on Saturday. If necessary, there’ll be an autopsy.”
“You think Oleg’s death might have been accidental?”
“No. I don’t. The railings on the Lido Deck are too high. Doctor Jon said Oleg had a bad heart. He didn’t want anyone to know, and there was nothing that could be done about it.”
“Then, you think he jumped?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me.”
“What about family? Was there anyone?”
“Oleg has a daughter somewhere in Switzerland. I called her myself. She’ll meet us in Sorrento. After that, it’s out of our hands.” Neil filled the champagne flutes and handed me one. “How about we talk about something more pleasant. Aside from Marco’s panic attack, I trust you enjoyed yourself.”
“I did. And I have to thank you for assigning Antonio to look after me.” I clicked my glass to Neil’s. “Cheers.”
Neil took a sip of his drink. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“In fact, everyone was fantastic.” If Neil was involved with the Gang of Eight, I wanted to dispel any idea I was suspicious of them. “Particularly Professor Braun. The man’s a walking encyclopedia. Where did you find him?”
“I didn’t find the Professor. He found us. Or maybe it was Antonio who told him about Athena. I believe they had worked together. Either way, Professor Braun and his wife have been on board about four years now.” Neil verified what Marco had told me. The Professor had used Antonio on a number of dives for research. When Professor Braun and his wife retired, Antonio suggested Professor Braun check out Neil Webster’s new Seniors at Sea program.
“And the Brauns, did they know the Inspector and his wife before?” I was curious how much Neil knew about their relationship or if, in Neil’s desperation to keep Athena afloat, he hadn’t bothered to check the source of their finances.
“I wouldn’t know. I never handled the sale of individual condos. I wasn’t around enough. Oleg took care of all that.”
“And now, it falls on you?”
“I thought we were going to talk about your dive.”
“You’re right.” I lifted my glass. “To my dive.”
“May it be the first of many.” Neil sipped his drink, then put his glass on the counter. “Perhaps you’ll come back, and I could accompany you myself next time.”
