“Finn?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I apologize. We didn’t get much of a chance to chat last night. I was so tired when I came in. I haven’t even unpacked.” I nodded in the direction of the guest bedroom, where my small rolie and backpack remained untouched on the floor. “I wanted to thank you. Particularly for the welcome basket.”
“I’m glad you liked it. If you need anything, just ring the operator. Use the house phone. There’s one in the kitchen, the bedroom, and by the front door. Ms. Drummerhausen may be gone, but you’re here, and her quarters are my responsibility.”
“I appreciate that. However, I did have a question.”
“Yes.” Finn leaned casually against the closet door, the dry cleaning folded over his arm.
“I’m curious. Do you know what time Ms. Drummerhausen left yesterday?” I was hopeful Finn might have seen Dede leave and put an end to any suspicions I had concerning the Churchill sisters’ worries about Dede’s whereabouts.
“I’ve no idea.” Finn retreated into Dede’s closet and hung up the dry cleaning. “I was busy with Professor Braun and his wife, Greta. They live across the hall. Nice people. I’m sure you’ll meet them.” Then poking his head out of the closet, he asked. “Anything else?”
“No, that’s quite alright.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you last night, there’s a mini-safe in your closet for valuables.” Finn pointed in the direction of the guest room. “The instructions are printed on the outside. Just key in whatever code you like.” Finn paused outside the closet door and scanned the room as though he were taking inventory. Satisfied everything appeared to be in its place, he ran his hand across the bureau, rubbed his thumb and index finger together, and then slipped past me in the doorway. I followed Finn to the living room, where he stopped in front of the glass doors. The late afternoon sun was streaking through, and the room had begun to heat up. “I can close the verticals if you like.”
“No need,” I said. “I’m sure I can do it.”
I wondered if Finn had paused in front of the glass doors because of the heat or if he had noticed Dede’s black bag on the dining table. Whatever his concern, he appeared satisfied I could handle the blinds on my own and moved toward the front door.
“Will you be going for cocktails at six? The residents usually gather in the bar every night at about that time.”
“Not tonight. I was planning on unpacking and reviewing my notes for tomorrow.”
“Very well, then. I’ll leave you be. Good night.”
I waited until Finn closed the door, returned to the dining room table, and stuffed Dede’s wallet, phone, and keys back into her bag. I was about to put the small dictionary into the side pocket when I felt something hard and round beneath the lining. It felt like a loose coin. I took everything out again, turned Dede’s bag inside out, and looked for a hole in the lining through which any loose change might have fallen. But there was none. Instead, I could see where the lining had been cut and carefully resewn.
I pulled at the thread until it gave way to a small opening in the bottom of the purse. A mini plastic bag like I had used to carry a small pair of earrings was hidden beneath the lining. But inside wasn’t a pair of earrings, but a gold coin, about the size of a nickel. On one side was a head-and-shoulders profile of a man. And on the reverse was a skullcap between two daggers with six letters beneath the images, all in caps and evenly spaced in two groups of three letters each. I read them aloud. E.I.D. M.A.R.
With the plastic baggie in my hand, I walked out onto the balcony and held the small bag up to the light. The gold coin inside caught the last rays of the late afternoon sun as the light danced across the Mediterranean’s blue waters. Whatever the coin was, it had to be valuable. Why else would it be hidden inside of Dede’s bag? It made no sense. If Dede knew it was there, she wouldn’t have left it—not voluntarily, anyway. And if Dede didn’t know anything about it, then who did?
I palmed the coin and returned to the dining room table, where I picked up Dede’s bag. Whatever this odd, unusual-looking gold coin was, it wasn’t my business. There had to be some reason why Dede had hidden the coin inside her bag, just like there had to be some sensical reason why Dede had missed breakfast the morning the Churchill sisters thought she had gone missing. But still…I paused and looked at the coin in the palm of my hand. While it seemed authentically old, how could I know for sure? Maybe it was just some lucky talisman Dede had hidden inside her bag for good luck. What I did know was that I was on a cruise around the Amalfi Coast on a first-class ship and that I had landed an exclusive interview with Neil Webster. Whatever this coin was, it didn’t belong to me. I slipped the gold coin back beneath the bag’s lining and returned the bag to the table behind the front door. If someone were to come looking for the bag and found it without the gold coin hidden beneath the lining, they might suspect, since I was staying in Dede’s suite, that I had something to do with its disappearance. And then, who knows what trouble that might bring?
My mind was racing like a pinball machine. Why might Dede have left her bag behind the door or failed to show up at breakfast with the Churchill sisters? I returned to the dining table and uncorked a bottle of red wine from the gift basket Finn had left for me. It was almost nine p.m. Whatever had happened to Dede, whether she had gotten off the Athena on her own accord—or not—I couldn’t let go of the idea that something was wrong. Call it a reporter’s sixth sense, but things didn’t feel right despite Athena’s serene surroundings. I took a sip of wine and was about to take my glass and the bottle out to the balcony when the apartment phone rang. It was Captain Byard.
Chapter Four
“Good evening, Kat. It seems our late departure from Naples this afternoon has created a small change in our itinerary and an unusual opportunity. Something that I think you might find interesting. We’ll be sailing past Mount Vesuvius around ten p.m. I thought you might like to join us on the bridge. The view from here’s spectacular, and if you like, I could give a tour of the ship afterward.”
I twirled the stem of the wine glass in my hand. I could think of nothing better than spending a beautiful, star-studded evening in the company of the ship’s handsome Captain. But, tempting as the offer was, after finding what looked like an ancient gold coin hidden inside Dede’s bag and thinking she might or might not be missing, I decided to put the brakes on the idea of a shipboard romance, at least for the moment. If Captain Byard was wrong about Dede and she hadn’t gotten off the ship of her own accord, or even worse, if he was lying to cover up some sinister event, I thought it best to keep things professional. At least until I had a better understanding of Dede’s disappearance and the gold coin I had found in her bag. Still, I did have a story to write, and I needed a tour of the ship. I accepted Byard’s offer, promised myself I wouldn’t get caught up in his charms, and told him I’d meet him on the bridge at ten, then returned to the guest bedroom to unpack.
It didn’t take me but a few minutes to get organized. I travel light. I’m not much of a clothes hound. No point in dragging heavy bags halfway around the world. And, since this was a warm weather cruise, everything I thought I’d need fit in my backpack and a small rollie. A half dozen t-shirts, shorts, pants, tennis shoes, sandals, a swimsuit, a simple black shift, and a long-sleeved hooded sweatshirt. I considered wearing the dress, but it seemed inappropriate if I had to climb stairs. Instead, I opted for a pair of slinky black palazzo pants and a white t-shirt, then wiggled into a pair of black flats and pulled my hair into a ponytail. Lastly, I took my camera from my backpack, strung it around my neck, checked the mirror, and added a bit of mascara and lip gloss. I may have had my doubts about the captain, but I still wanted to make a good impression—just in case.
* * *
Finn had included a map of the ship with the gift basket, and I checked it quickly for directions. The Bridge was on the Sun Deck or the Lido Deck, at the front of the ship or the bow, opposite the Ivy Café where I had High Tea with the Churchill sisters that afternoon. The map showed three sets of elevators. One at the ship’s bow. One mid-ship, closest to Dede’s apartment, and another at the far end of the hall, closer to the stern. I elected to take the elevator mid-ship and punched the button to the Lido Deck three floors up. When the doors opened, the ship’s yellow party lights illuminated an empty outdoor play area, easily the size of a football field. The bar was closed, the pool and jacuzzi were empty, and the deck chairs were all neatly folded and pulled beneath the sun awning. Directly ahead of me, towards the bow, was the Bridge, a large windowed structure that ran the entire width of the ship with two winged room-like areas off the port and starboard sides. A crew member sat outside a door marked Crew Only and, seeing me, opened the door and escorted me inside.
Inside, the Bridge was illuminated with red lights, and for a moment, I felt like I was standing on a movie set for the Star Trek Enterprise. It looked almost futuristic. Three oversized swivel chairs faced a panel of tall, expansive windows that looked out over the front of the ship to the sea beyond and into the inky black night sky. Beneath the windows were a series of computer screens, and centered between them, a small wheel, the size one might see on a toy car. Not at all what I expected for a ship the size of Athena.
Captain Byard stood up as I entered the room. “Welcome to the Bridge, Kat.”
Maybe it was the ship’s movement or the haze from the red lights that engulfed the room, but looking at the Captain, I suddenly felt faint. I stepped back and braced myself against the wall.
“Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine.” I put my hand to my head. “It’s the movement of the ship. I’m still getting used to it.”
But it wasn’t the movement of the ship that caused my knees to go weak, but a feeling of déjà vu. A flashback to a life long gone. I hadn’t noticed the similarity before. Perhaps because the captain was wearing a hat, and the sun was in my eyes, but now, seeing him on the Bridge in the low light, the resemblance was uncanny, and it all came crashing back to me. The shadow of the young Air Force pilot I had married in college…and buried in an empty coffin. To Eric. Gone too soon to a senseless Vietnamese war—but never forgotten.
“Here. Take a seat.” Captain Byard offered me his chair.
I sat down and tried to dismiss the striking similarity. It was going to be hard enough to focus on the task at hand and not relax in his company. But not until I knew Captain Byard wasn’t hiding the truth about Dede Drummerhausen and her whereabouts or if he might have any idea about the gold coin I had found inside the bag she’d left behind did I dare to let my guard down.
Captain Byard introduced me to his first mate, Captain Rob, also known as the Officer of the Watch, who, along with his counterparts, manned the bridge twenty-four hours a day. Then went on to tell me more about the Bridge.
“From here, we have a clear view of the surrounding area.” Captain Byard pointed to the window. “That’s Mount Vesuvius straight ahead. And on the bulkhead below, these rounded radar screens give us Athena’s position, approaching vessels, maps of the ocean floor, and the coastline.”
I glanced at the blips on the green computer screens, like glowing orbs. I had no idea what they meant.
“The Bridge is the heart of the ship, the safest place to be. We keep all our important papers in the safe up here. Ship’s registration. Maps. Crew passports. Emergency cash. The windows are fortified for heavy-duty storms and, for security reasons, bulletproof.”
“Bulletproof?” I snapped a couple of pictures of the deck and Athena’s crew, then held my camera to my side. “Are we expecting trouble, Captain?”
“Nothing you need worry about.”
