Read Cherry Ames 09 Cruise Nurse Online
Authors: Helen Wells
Cherry Ames 09 Cruise Nurse (13 page)
“The cable,” Jan continued, “said that my entire inheritance, besides a few hundred dollars Uncle Ben had carried with him, was the property at Piscadera Bay. In its present state of disrepair, Mr. Camelot implied, it was practically worthless. The cable ended by requesting me to state my wishes as to the disposition of the property.”
“But the ambergris?” Cherry cried. “What happened to it?”
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“That’s the point,” Jan cried. “What
did
happen to it?
I cabled Mr. Camelot at once asking him if there wasn’t something else of value in my uncle’s luggage. The answer was no. Nothing, except what was in his money belt. Three hundred dollars and forty-nine cents, to be exact. Mr. Camelot, I suppose, thinking I didn’t trust him, went so far as to list by cable collect the contents of my uncle’s one and only suitcase which the steamship line sent ashore with him.”
“What were the contents?” Cherry demanded.
“Maybe the ambergris was hidden in a shoe.” Jan grinned ruefully. “No shoes. Boots, remember?
And Uncle Ben virtually died with his boots on, just as he would have wanted to. The attack came on as the
Julita
was waiting for the pontoon bridge at Willemstad to open. Mr. Camelot came aboard the minute the ship docked and took Uncle Ben straight to a hospital. Uncle Ben believed in traveling light, I guess. In his suitcase were nothing but an extra sweater, socks, shirts, and pajamas.”
“There must have been something else,” Cherry argued. “Slippers, a comb, military brushes—you know, the things men always pack in their grips. Razor and toothbrush, certainly.”
Jan shrugged. “I suppose all that sort of thing was in the suitcase too. But Mr. Camelot didn’t bother to list them, thank goodness, since he was cabling collect. Mother was very stuffy about paying for those cables, I can tell you. And she refused at fi rst when I insisted upon taking this trip. But when she found out 118
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AMES,
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NURSE
that some of the ‘best families’ were taking the cruise, she was all for it. She doesn’t know about Uncle Ben’s ambergris. But don’t you see, Cherry? The ambergris
must be still aboard this ship!”
Cherry thought for a minute, and then nodded.
“Somehow in the last-minute rush and the excitement of taking a dying passenger ashore, it wasn’t packed with the other things.”
“That’s what I think,” Jan said slowly. “In fact, I’m
sure
of it. So sure, that I went right down to the steamship line and tried to reserve the same room. I put on a big scene, cried like anything, insisting that for sentimental reasons I must have the same room in which my uncle had spoken his last words.” She sighed. “They were very nice and understanding about it, but no go. It seems that 141 and 143 are almost always sold as suites. Last trip they did split the two rooms, but they don’t like to. And the suite had already been reserved by a Mrs. Crane for this trip. The best they could do was to arrange things so we would be seated at the same table. Then I might be invited to visit in the room where my uncle practically breathed his last.”
She whirled on Cherry stormily. “I know I sound awfully hard-boiled about this, but Uncle Ben wouldn’t have wanted me to grieve. He had a wonderful, full life, and although he claimed he wanted to take root somewhere, I think he knew he was nearing the end of his journey. He told me himself that when he went, he wanted to go quickly. He had never been a grasping
JAN’S
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119
person, and he didn’t intend to grasp at life.” Jan was crying now. “ ‘Honey,’ he said, ‘I’ve seen everything there is to see on this old globe. I’m tired. But I’m going to die with my boots on. You’ll see.’ ”
Cherry said comfortingly: “He must have been a wonderful old gentleman. The surgeon and the purser both said he was a most unusual person.”
“He
was
a gentleman,” Jan said tautly. “He didn’t have the manners and social graces my other uncles have.
They’re nice enough, I suppose, but Uncle Benedict was a man, Cherry. You couldn’t help admiring and respecting his independence. He lived the way he wanted to without hurting anybody. And for all that he disinherited him, I think Benedict was my grandfather’s favorite. They were very much alike.”
Cherry stood up. It was almost four o’clock. “I’ve got to go now. But let me brood about it all for a little while.
I can assure you right now, Jan, you have nothing to worry about. The ambergris is perfectly safe. Steamship lines are very careful about passengers’ property.
If it wasn’t sent ashore with the other things in your uncle’s cabin, it’s in good hands. Probably at the home offi ce in New York.”
Jan shook her head. “I don’t think so. They would have told me about it when I reserved our suite. Furthermore, this ship was completely modernized recently. There may be all sorts of recesses that were sealed up when it was redecorated. It would be just like Uncle Ben to fi nd a secret panel and hide his ambergris behind it.”
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AMES,
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Cherry laughed. “I think you’re letting your imagination run away witih you. But, with Timmy’s permission, we’ll both search his cabin carefully when I have plenty of time. No more secret searches. Promise?” Jan hesitated, then held out her hand. “All right, Cherry. But we’ve got to work fast. Someone else is trying to fi nd that ambergris. If he gets it fi rst, that’s that.
I have no way of proving that it belongs to me.” Cherry looked puzzled. “Someone else? What do you mean?”
“The man Timmy calls Henry Morgan because he looks like a pirate,” Jan said in a lowered voice. “Timmy himself told me his friend ‘Henry’ searched the top of the closet and took all of the toys out of the bottom storage space.”
Cherry gasped. Mr. Rough Diamond! But that was ridiculous. How could anyone but Jan even guess that priceless ambergris had once been hidden in Timmy’s room?
Jan, reading her thoughts, said quietly, “He
does
look like a pirate too. A seafaring man, anyway. Maybe Uncle Ben met him sometime or other in his wanderings, and told him he’d found some ambergris. He may have been following Uncle ever since, waiting for a chance to steal it. My very conventional relatives ran only the bare facts of Uncle Ben’s death in the obit-uary columns for three days. But some reporter dug up the story of Uncle Ben’s past and ran a front-page story about his being a very colorful member of our
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conservative family.” Jan shrugged. “In the write-up, the reporter stated that Mr. Benedict Paulding died penniless except for some almost worthless property in the Netherlands West Indies. It made a nice anticli-max to the story of a soldier of fortune, and he played it up for all it was worth.”
“But—” Cherry began. Jan interrupted:
“If Timmy’s pirate had been on my uncle’s trail he would have known that he had not yet sold the ambergris when he came aboard the
Julita.
Since it was not in his possession at the time of his death, it must be still on the ship. Even
I
fi gured that out, and our Mr. Henry Morgan, from the one glimpse I had of him, is a lot shrewder than I am.”
Cherry smiled. “Well, you’re not exactly stupid, Jan.
At fi rst I thought you were very young for your age, but now I think exactly the opposite. In some ways, you’re a very mature young lady.” She held out her hand. “Let’s fi nd that ambergris and make sure you can go to college.
After
you’ve made your mother happy by playing social butterfl y for a few months.”
Jan grinned as she shook Cherry’s hand gratefully.
“You win about that angle of it. I can take art lessons in between parties. But we’ve got to act fast. I haven’t a cent for the taxes on that property at Piscadera Bay.”
Cherry nodded and then she peeked into the other room to make sure Mrs. Paulding was still sleeping peacefully.
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CHERRY
AMES,
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NURSE
As she hurried down to sick bay, she thought: “Mr.
Henry-Morgan-Rough-Diamond will bear watching.” She made a mental note never to afford him another opportunity to be alone with Timmy in Stateroom 141.
But she formed this resolution too late. When she came up to take Timmy’s T.P.R. a few minutes later, she found Mr. Rough Diamond himself, sitting on the foot of Timmy’s bed!
timmy took his worshipful eyes away from his pirate long enough to glare at Cherry:
“Go ’way. Can’t you see Henry is telling me a story?”
“Henry” arose to his feet in one smooth, graceful motion. “So we meet again, Miss Cherry? May I introduce myself? I am Henry Landgraf. Your little patient guessed my fi rst name correctly.”
Cherry reluctantly held out a limp hand. There was nothing else to do. She had not one bit of evidence to prove her suspicions. Even though she was positive Mr. Henry Landgraf had ransacked Timmy’s cabin, she could expect no help from the little boy. He obviously adored this big, sunburnt man and would defend him with might and main.
Cherry pulled herself together and donned her most professional manner. “It was very kind of you to amuse 123
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AMES,
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NURSE
my patient in my absence. Now I must ask you to leave.
It is time for his inhalation.”
Tim promptly kicked off the covers and began to bounce up and down in rage. “If Henry goes away, I won’t breathe inside that old tent of yours. I’ll shut my mouth and hold my nose.”
Mr. Landgraf slid admiring eyes from Cherry to the little boy on the bed. “Timothy Crane,” he said in a gruff growl, “if you want to be a pirate you must learn to take orders. You do exactly what Miss Cherry says or I’ll make you walk the plank at sundown.” Timmy howled with laughter, relishing the thought of such an unusual and bloodcurdling punishment. He grabbed the umbrella and waved it, cutlass fashion.
Then he snatched up an empty pop bottle and twirled it expertly, chanting:
“Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest
—
Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!”
“One thing you can say in my favor, Miss Cherry,” Mr. Landgraf said humbly. “Tim and I have collected quite a lot of bottle tops during this session.”
“They’re not bottle tops!” Timmy explained. “They’re pieces of eight. Pieces of eight!” He reached under his bunk and produced an empty candy box that had been painted to resemble a treasure chest.
Cherry saw with satisfaction that it contained quite a respectable quantity of “pieces of eight.” She couldn’t help smiling her approval at the tall “ pirate.”
TIMMY’S
PIRATE
125
He bowed and moved in that graceful swagger of his to the door. “If you have any trouble with Captain Kidd, don’t hesitate to call on me.”
“Thank you,” Cherry murmured primly, “but I don’t anticipate any diffi culty. He is a very good patient.” Amusement fl ickered in the bright blue eyes. “Perhaps. But for your information I found him out in the corridor not long ago practicing handsprings. I’m no tattletale, but I know laryngitis when I
hear
it.” There was just a hint of implied criticism in his deep voice. Cherry’s cheeks fl amed.
“I don’t believe it. I left the child with his mother.
She wouldn’t leave him alone.”
The heavy shoulders shrugged. “Nevertheless, apparently she did. She’s down at the pool right now. Or was, half an hour ago.”
Cherry bit her lip. How could Mrs. Crane have done such a thing? It just wasn’t possible. She must have turned Timmy over to a maid or stewardess who was suddenly called away.
Cherry was almost afraid to take Timmy
’s
temperature. But in spite of his exciting afternoon, it was right on the dot of normal. Cherry breathed a sigh of relief.
As she spooned his medication into him, Timmy rambled on about his new-found friend.
“Henry,” he told her, “is an awful smart man. ’Most as smart as my daddy. But
he
can’t fi nd Fuzzy-Wuzzy either. We played ‘cold and hot,’ you know, and I kept telling him he was
freezing
when he tapped the walls 126
CHERRY
AMES,
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NURSE
and looked in the back of all the bureau drawers. Guess nobody will ever fi nd Fuzzy-Wuzzy but
me.”
So, between tales of piracy on the high seas, Mr.
Landgraf had got in a bit of searching. Probably he had been able to get in
quite
a bit of searching.
When the inhalation was over, Mrs. Crane came back, sunburnt and happy as a lark. Cherry decided to risk a rebuff, if not a complaint to the captain .
“Mrs. Crane,” she said sternly, “I don’t believe you quite understand about Timmy. He must not be left alone. Under no circumstances must he be allowed out of bed. While you were down at the pool another passenger found him playing in the corridor.” Mrs. Crane’s pink face turned red. “But he was sound asleep, Miss Ames,” she defended herself. “At home he generally naps for an hour or more. I didn’t leave until three-thirty and I knew you’d look in at four.”
Cherry lost her temper then. She said a lot of things she knew she had no business saying. “I simply can’t understand your attitude, Mrs. Crane.” Doggedly she followed her into the living room and closed the door.
“You don’t seem to appreciate the fact that you have an exceptionally bright little boy. A sick little boy. A half-starved little boy.”
Mrs. Crane tossed her pretty head. “It’s not my fault he won’t eat. They sent up spinach and liver. He de-tests them both.”
Cherry went on ruthlessly. “I’m not talking about spinach and liver. I’m talking about mother love.”
TIMMY’S
PIRATE
127
Mrs. Crane fl ounced to the French windows and stared out on deck. “Nanny adores him. She’s been with him ever since we came home from the hospital. He worships the ground she walks on.” She whirled around to face Cherry defi antly. “If you want to know the truth, Miss Ames, I’d like to win Timmy away from Nanny.
