Cherry Ames 09 Cruise Nurse (17 page)

BOOK: Cherry Ames 09 Cruise Nurse
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Cherry, of course, didn’t know exactly how many ounces had been Mr. Paulding’s share. All she knew was that his partner had sold his portion for around fi ve thousand dollars. But Waidler couldn’t have known that.

Cherry shrugged. “I’m letting my imagination run away with me. Waidler is probably perfectly innocent.

The thing to do is to try to fi nd out from Kirk Monroe if the old gentleman said anything before he died that might be a clue to where he kept the ambergris. But fi rst I think I’ll have a talk with Ziggy.” Cherry had a perfectly good excuse to visit the purser’s offi ce. She had not yet had time to take a written inventory of the medical refrigerator. Ziggy was sitting at his desk when she came in.

158
CHERRY

AMES,

CRUISE

NURSE

“Hello,” he said mournfully. “I suppose you’ve heard what happened last night?”

Cherry nodded. “Are we allowed to discuss the mystery, or is that scuttlebutt?”

“Scuttlebutt!” The wiry little steward pounded the desk with his calloused hands. “It’s gone beyond scuttlebutt, Miss Cherry. The Old Man’s on the rampage. Had me up there all morning.”

“Thank goodness I escaped that,” Cherry said inwardly. “If the captain’s already on the rampage I wouldn’t have had a prayer.” Aloud, she said:

“Was anything taken this time?”

“Nothing.

Absolutely nothing. At least,” Ziggy

fi nished evasively, “nothing of any importance. A carbon copy of such an unimportant letter that I didn’t even mention it to the Old Man.”

Cherry couldn’t help wondering about that. Ziggy should have reported even the most minor loss to the captain. Why had he failed to do so? She asked him quietly:

“Can you remember what the letter was all about? It might be a clue, you know.”

Ziggy snorted. “Nothing of the sort. I mean, I do remember the letter word for word. But there’s not a clue in it, Miss Cherry. And don’t you go asking me to repeat it to you. Because I won’t. If you’re smart you’ll keep out of this. There are only four keys to this room.

And you have one of them!”

Cherry’s red cheeks burned under the implication that it was she who had taken the letter. For the second time that morning she was under suspicion. She said

WAIDLER AND ZIGGY ARE EVASIVE

159

coolly, “If I had wanted to take anything I wouldn’t have had to wait until last night. I could have done it any time I wanted to, Mr. Ziegler.”

The normally good-natured purser relented then.

“Don’t pay any attention to me, Miss Cherry! I’m in such a state I’m beginning to suspect the Old Man himself. I hope whoever swiped that letter doesn’t leave it lying around. If the captain ever saw it, I
would
be—” He stopped himself just in time. Shrewdly he fi nished with “I’d be hard put to explain why I didn’t report it had been taken from the fi les.”

“Why didn’t you report it?” Cherry said mildly.

Ziggy spread his hands expressively. “You don’t know the skipper. Hates details. That letter was a detail. If I’d mentioned it, he’d probably have had an attack of apoplexy. Very impatient man, the skipper. We old-timers learned long ago never to bother him with anything that wasn’t important.”

It sounded like a weak explanation to Cherry. And Ziggy’s manner was evasive to say the least. While she checked the contents of the medical refrigerator, Cherry wondered why the letter had been stolen.

Ziggy sat at his desk, lost in thought. “It’s the work of a practical joker,” he said at last. “I probably mislaid that letter myself. Someone who has a master key, and what
he
thinks is a sense of humor, is behind all this. You run into crazy passengers like that every so often. Like the old man who died last trip. I always knew he was strange, but I didn’t know he was crazy until I heard what he said just before he lost consciousness.”

160
CHERRY

AMES,

CRUISE

NURSE

Cherry pricked up her ears. “What did he say, Ziggy?

I’m interested in hearing about him; he was the uncle of the young Paulding girl in Suite 125–127, you know.

She adored him, and I’m sure it would mean a great deal to her to know just what his last words were.” That, she refl ected, smiling inwardly, was putting it mildly, but she didn’t want to arouse the purser’s suspicions.

Ziggy shook his head grimly. “If she wants to know, she’ll have to ask the ship’s surgeon. I’m just the pharmacist’s mate when it comes to dying passengers.” He got up and left the room.

Cherry decided that Ziggy was right. Jan herself would have to question Dr. Monroe. Even though it was now

“Kirk” and “Cherry,” he would never violate professional ethics and repeat what his patient had said.

After she had fi nished her inventory, Cherry went to the dispensary to check the supplies and the steriliza-tion equipment. Then it was noon and time for her visit to Timmy.

Mrs. Crane looked exhausted by her four-hour stretch of duty. But she didn’t utter a complaint. With Cherry looking on, she went through the routine of Timmy’s care without mishap. Cherry complimented her enthusiastically.

“You’re as good as any nurse’s aide now. In another day or so I’ll be pinning a handkerchief on your hair to show you’ve won your cap.”

Mrs. Crane fl ushed with pleasure. “The doctor said Timmy couldn’t go out on deck today because of the

WAIDLER AND ZIGGY ARE EVASIVE

161

rise in his temperature last night. But he did say if it was normal all day Timmy could go up to the library and see the Christmas tree when it’s lighted up this evening. That nice Mr. Landgraf offered to carry Timmy. That was really awfully sweet of him, don’t you think?”

“Oh, did Timmy have a visitor this morning?” Cherry asked quickly.

“Oh, yes, Mr. Landgraf and Jan Paulding and her mother. He and Jan both offered to read to Timmy while I took a dip in the pool, but I refused. I was afraid Miss Cherry Ames would scold me if I left the room for even one minute.”

Cherry laughed. “Well, you’ve earned a rest. I’ll ask the steward to bring my lunch on the same tray with Timmy’s. So you run along and have your swim. Unless I’m called elsewhere I’ll be glad to stay with Timmy for a couple of hours.”

Mrs. Crane thanked Cherry gratefully. “Then I’ll just stay right on until two and have my lunch at the pool.

You’re a lamb, Cherry.”

Timmy was so full of Christmas Eve excitement he could hardly eat. When Cherry told him it was her birthday too, he promptly offered to give her the entire contents of his toy box.

And then Cherry suddenly remembered the cable she had tucked into her uniform pocket hours ago. It was from her mother:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DARLING. HAVE LOTS OF FUN.

162
CHERRY

AMES,

CRUISE

NURSE

A wave of homesickness swept over Cherry. If she were home now she and Charlie would be trim-ming the tree. There would be all sorts of mysterious whisperings as gifts were wrapped in the presence of everyone except the one who would open them on Christmas Day. Lost in thought she didn’t hear what Timmy was saying until he repeated:

“I’ve got a piece of yellow paper too, Cherry. Listen to me! I’ve got a ’portant piece of yellow paper too.”

“Have you?” Cherry smiled. “That’s nice. Did somebody send you a cable wishing you a merry Christmas?”

Timmy shook his head. “No, it b’longs to Henry.

He was reading it in that chair just like you’re reading yours. Then Jan came in and he stuffed it in his pocket. But when he wasn’t looking I took it out and hid it under my pillow.”

“Timmy Crane,” Cherry scolded. “You’re a naughty boy. Give me that paper right away. I’ll have Waidy return it to Henry when he comes for our trays.”

“Okey-dokey,” Timmy said cheerfully. “I just bor-rowed it cause it looked so nice and ’portant. But you’ve got to read it to me fi rst. I could only read
some
of the words, like
milk.”

Cherry laughed. “I don’t think you read that one right. I can’t imagine anyone used the word milk in a cable to Henry.”

“Did so read it right,” Tim shouted. “M-I-L-K spells milk!” He reached under his pillow and produced a crumpled piece of yellow paper.

WAIDLER AND ZIGGY ARE EVASIVE

163

It was not, Cherry saw at once, a cablegram. Then she almost shouted herself, when Timmy triumphantly pointed to four capital letters in the middle of the sheet.

They did, indeed, spell milk, and the crumpled piece of yellow paper was the carbon copy of a letter signed:

“R. D. Ziegler, Ship’s Purser.”

c h a p t e r x v

Milk of Magnesia

cherry’s eyes almost popped out of her head. this , then, must be the missing letter.

“Read it,” Tim yelled. “Read to me.”

Cherry hesitated. Should she return the letter to the purser without fi nding out what it said? If she did, she might be letting a valuable clue slip through her fi ngers.

She glanced swiftly at the name and address above the salutation. There could be no harm in reading that much of it.

One glance was enough for Cherry. The letter was addressed to:

MR. JUAN CAMELOT,
Attorney-at-Law

Willemstad

Curaçao

Jan’s Uncle Benedict’s lawyer!

164

MILK OF MAGNESIA

165

“Read it,” Timmy yelled for the third time. And Cherry did, swiftly, so that the words were jumbled together and made no sense at all to the little boy.

“What’s so ’portant ’bout that?” he demanded in disgust. He returned to the more exciting topic of what Santa Claus was going to bring him.

As he rambled on with the long list of what he expected to fi nd in his stocking the next morning, Cherry read the letter more carefully.

Dear Sir:

Due to an oversight on the part of a steward, certain items in the late Mr. Benedict Paulding’s medicine cabinet were not included in the effects sent ashore at the time of his disembarkation on Tuesday, December 12th. These items are enclosed herewith. They are:
1 Gold-plated Safety Razor

1 Used Razor Blade

1 New “ “

1 Toothbrush

1 Can Tooth Powder

1 Bottle Milk of Magnesia
(16
ounces)
1 Comb (2 Teeth Missing)

1 Pair Military Hairbrushes

I myself am guilty of neglecting to turn these items into the Home Offi ce at the Port of New York. I am therefore sending them to you by messenger when we next dock in Willemstad, Tuesday, December 26th. I trust this is satisfactory.

166
CHERRY

AMES,

CRUISE

NURSE

Cherry stared at the fi fth item:
1 Can Tooth Powder.

Perhaps
it
contained the missing ambergris! If so, it was perfectly safe in the purser’s locked desk where he kept all trivia connected with the passengers. She had caught a glimpse of that drawer earlier when he put away a handkerchief and compact a waitress had discovered left behind on one of the dining-room tables. The deep drawer was fi lled with large and small sealed, brown-paper packages, all carefully labeled and dated.

In one of them was Jan’s ambergris! So the mystery was over. All Jan had to do was request the purser to hand over her uncle’s toilet articles to her, his heir.

But would it be as simple as that? Ziggy might refuse, even when confronted with the carbon copy of the letter to Mr. Camelot. And rightly so. There was some legal technicality that prevented heirs from inheriting anything until after the will had been probated. Jan had said that her uncle’s will would not be probated until her arrival in Willemstad.

So what was their next step? Whoever had twice broken into the purser’s offi ce would surely make another search. This time, he might be successful.

If that mysterious person was, as Cherry was beginning to suspect, Mr. Henry Landgraf, he now knew what she knew: that some of old Mr. Paulding’s possessions were still aboard ship. Like Cherry, he would immediately think of the tooth-powder can . . .

a perfect, innocent-looking container for priceless ambergris.

MILK OF MAGNESIA

167

Cherry could hardly wait to consult with Jan. At last it was two o’clock and Mrs. Crane came back right on the hour, excited and fl ushed.

“Run along, Cherry,” she said. “And don’t come back at four. I’m going to be really brave and try to cope all by myself.” She giggled. “I’m glad you can’t get too far away from me, though.”

Cherry decided that she had better obtain the ship’s surgeon’s approval before turning complete care of Timmy over to his pretty young mother.

She found Kirk in his offi ce two doors beyond.

“Hello,” he greeted her. “Where have you been keeping yourself? If I hadn’t seen your entries in the sick-bay log I wouldn’t have known there was a nurse aboard.”

Cherry pretended to sulk. “After all, Dr. Monroe, it
is
Sunday. And, I might add, the day before Christmas.

Not to mention the fact—or
also,
as Timmy would say, my birthday!”

“Cherry!” He pumped her hand up and down. “And the gift shop would be closed until this evening, so I can’t buy you a present!”

“I don’t want a present.” Cherry smiled. “What I want you to do is let me turn Timmy over to his mother from now on. It’s not that I want to get out of a task, it’s just that it’s good for her—for both of them.” Then she explained about Timmy’s grandmother and Nanny.

Kirk nodded approvingly. “You’re a good little psychologist, Cherry. And there’s no reason why his mother shouldn’t assume full responsibility now. Even 168
CHERRY

AMES,

CRUISE

NURSE

a teenager like Jan could nurse him without too much risk. If his temperature doesn’t go up tonight, we’ll take him off sulfa as a Christmas present. And let him go on deck. It’s a shame he’s missing all this lovely tropical weather. As a matter of fact, let’s prescribe a sun bath for him this afternoon. It can’t possibly do him any harm and I think probably will do him a lot of good.”

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