1 Shore Excursion (27 page)

“Just because I save enough to pay my bills, you call me stingy!
If you would pay up what you owe me I might not have to be stingy!”

“I’ll even things up next month, you know I will, but let’s not talk about that now,
okay
?
I didn’t mean to
start anything
,
Sidney, I just wanted to say that you look really good, very chichi!”

Jay unlocked the cabin door, and we
were
both stopped in our tracks by th
e
enormous vase of deep red roses on my bedside table.

“Oh, look!
Someone sent me flowers!”
Jay trilled.
He made a grab for the card, but I snatched it out of his paw and opened it, turning my back to him.

The card inside was printed “With the Compliments of the Captain
.
”
W
ritten below it in slashing black ink
were the words
,

I
t would give me great pleasure if you would join me on the bridge at 8:00 tonight for dinner
followed by
stargazing in my private quarters.

—
Stephanos Vargos
Master
,
m/s Rapture of the Deep

Jay laugh
ed
as he read over my shoulder.
“Good going, Sid.
Roses from that handsome hunk.
Are you going?”

“No, I’m not.
It’s too late
.
I already have plans for the evening
. R
emember
t
he ballet?”

“Well, yeah, but who wants to go to the ballet with some old ladies
when you could let our captain p
ut stars in your eyes?”

“Stop pestering me, Jay, or I’m going to have you seeing stars!”

“Touchy, touchy
, Miss Prickles.
Why are you so supersensitive?”

I thought about Fernando and the ballet.
Then I thought about the captain and the roses and the stars.
And that reminded me of the beautiful blond
e
I had seen him with, looking at those same stars,
less than twenty-four hours ago
. Wonder if
she received
roses
with her invitation
, too?

I
rang for
Abdul
, and when he came,
gave him the flowers and five bucks.

“Abdul, would you please
return these to Captain Vargos? Tell him that I said
there must be some mistake, that they must have been delivered to the wrong girl. Will you do that?”

He nodded yes
,
and
I thanked him,
then
reenter
ed
the cabin and closed the door.

“
I don’t understand you, Sidney
,
” Jay said
,
“
and I think you must be nuts to turn down that invitation, but it’s your choice, not mine.
I think there
is
something I’m missing here
.
Now, show me you
r outfit for
tonight
and then I’ll show you
mine
!
”

Shelving
all thoughts of Captain Vargos,
I
forced myself to open my disaster of
a closet.
Besides getting myself together for the evening, I really needed to spend part of the afternoon sorting and packing my stuff, although I sure didn’t want to. I hate pa
cking, but this was the last free
day for a while.

After two days in St. Petersburg, the itinerary called for a day in Estonia, then back to Harwich for disembarkation and the flight home.

My stuff seemed to be in a bigger jumble than usual.

“Jay, have you been rummaging through my things again?
This
closet
is a mess.”

“Your stuff is always a mess, Sidney, unlike mine, which is always perfect.”

T
rue.
Jay
pitches a fit
if
his
clothes are disturbed in any way, even slightly out of place.
He
wants
his trousers
all
hanging
neatly
on special hangers cover
ed
in dry-cleaner plastic
.
He
packs his
suitcase
with tissue paper
—
you know the type.
No one would ever think of calling my motley collection of outfits a wardrobe.

I planned to wear my one really, really good dress, a black silk, to the ballet
. The
silver sandals
that
go with it
had super
-
high heels.
I thought my new pink pashmina would
be
great with the black silk dress, but the scarf wasn’t where I had left it.
I couldn’t find it anywhere.

I looked in the closet and all through the drawers, then hauled my suitcase out from under the bed and
dug
through the dirty clothes, but I still couldn’t find it.
By then
I was pretty sure
someone had been
going
through my stuff, and the prime suspect was sitting right there, looking innocent.

“O
kay
, Jay, where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“My new pink pashmina, that’s what.
Where is it?”

“Don’t glare at me like that.
I didn’t take it,” Jay
said.
“I don’t wear fake
-
minas, and it’s the wrong color for me anyway.
You don’t need a shawl with that dress, Sidney.
It’s going to be warm outside tonight, and
the boys at the ballet
will like you better if you don’t cover up your boobs.”

He was right.
The plunging neckline of the black silk dress would have
Aunt Minnie
clucking, but
Fernando
would probably think it was just fine.

I gave up looking for the scarf and chose instead an amethyst drop on a fine silver chain and matching earrings.

Neither Jay nor I had to babysit the High Steppers tonight.
None of them were going ashore.
A troupe of Russian folkloric dancers was performing after dinner in the Stardust Lounge, and all the old folks wanted to get to bed early because of Sunday’s all-day shore excursions.

Instead of the regular bus trip, Brooke had hired a car and driver
through the ship’s concierge
for the next day, invit
ing
Hannah and Ethel to go along as her guests.

They were thrilled, of course, but Gertrude, who was not invited, was furious.
At
dinner, she sat with the Murph
ys and Marjorie and Esther Levy,
glaring across
at Brooke
’s table
and making loud spiteful remarks
about her
throughout the entire meal
.

“
Just look at her
,
” she said, giving Brooke venomous looks,
“
all that red hair and just dripping in diamonds! She thinks the bus isn’t good enough for her. She can’t sightsee with the likes of us
.
No, she has to have a private car and driver! I wouldn’t go in the car with Miss Got Rocks if she begged me.”

Gertrude, the Levys, the Johnsons, the Petrones, and Chet Parker had all booked the all-day bus tour, Palaces and Treasures of Imperial Russia, which was scheduled to leave from the pier at 8:00 a.m.

“Muriel Murphy was pretty vague about her family’s plans,”
Chet
Parker reported over eggs and caviar.
“Either they haven’t told her yet or she was too fuzzy to remember.”

“I hope they go
with you
.” I
murmured
.
“You should have to sit between them and the Levys on the bus
as
payback for the dirty trick you played on the Levy sisters in Stockholm.”

“But they don’t know I did it,” he smirked.
“I was too smooth.
They think the Institute of Social Justice really exists, and that everyone, including you,
was just too stupid to
point
them
in
the
right
direction.
But have mercy on me, Sidney. If you had to spend the time I
’ve
spen
t
with those two, you’d be sending them on snipe hunts, too.”

He had a point.

Chet
is
really not a bad guy. He
’
s
sort of appealing in a little lost boy kind of way.
At least he was honest about his guest host duties, and he didn’t appear to be trying to take advantage of any of the ladies he entertained.
I
wasn’t going to pass
judgment
on
Chet
Parker
.
Plus,
I wasn’t
totally
sure
of
his
orientation
—not that
it was
any
of my business.
Jay says
Chet
is gay, and Jay probably knows.

Our captain was
not at
his table at
dinner, and I
wondered
w
here he was dining, and with whom.

Jerome
Morgan had gone ashore the second the ship was cleared, and no one had seen him since.
That seemed to be his pattern whenever the ship reached a port.
N
o one had a clue what Morgan’s business was in St. Petersburg
. But t
here was lots of
High Stepper
speculation.

“I heard in the beauty shop/
spa/
at breakfast/
last night
for sure
that
Jerome
Morgan is a drug dealer
/
CIA agen
t
/
evangelist
/
smuggling
Bibles to
poor people
/
a
gun dealer
/
a
kidnapper, has run off with that little blond girl
…
”
The
ir speculation
covered most possibilities. T
ake your pick.

Angelo
Petrone had the most solid information.
“He eats at
our table at dinner, see, not because he wants to, just because he has to, the way this set-up works.
Most nights he don’t show. My wife, she tried fish
ing
around, you know, just being friendly, but he clammed up tight. She kept pestering him
—
she wants to know everything
—
but all he would say was that he is a
“
business associate
”
of Fernando Ortiz and Abe Klein.
He tried to sound on the up-and-up, real official-like, but whatever he’s
selling, I ain’t buying. I seen guys like him before. S
mells
like mob to me.”

I wasn’t sure either what Morgan’s real story was, but I didn’t care as long as he stayed away from me.
I wasn’t totally convinced that he was innocent in that crypt deal. Morgan
had
certainly
been
in the area
when the doors slammed behind me
.

Vargos
had been
, too, of course.
His story was that he was visiting an old friend there
—
a priest at the cathedral.
If his story was true,
then
he
must have
entered the church and then passed through the public area to the private area with his friend
; that
could explain why I didn’t see him when I entered a few minutes later.
I
f
it w
ere
true.