Rigged for Murder (Windjammer Mystery Series) (16 page)

George and Scott were just finishing drying and storing the dishes. “All set, George?” she asked

“Yup, we’re done here.” He laid down his towel and followed Brie to the library, where they sat down at the desk as they had that morning.

“George, I’ll come right to the point. Is there anything you omitted in recounting your argument with Pete last night?”

The tic in his eye came back to life. “The windjammer fleet is sort of a closed community,” George began. “The captains all know each other, and like any group, there’s always some competition among the members. There are petty jealousies that cause rumors. I’ve earned a reputation over the years as the best cook in the fleet; in fact, several captains have tried to hire me. The
Sarah Trenton
, in particular, wanted me, and I think the cook aboard that ship started the rumors about me being gay.”

George’s eye twitched uncontrollably. “I have absolutely nothing against gays, but the fact is I’m not one of them. I learned last night that Pete was a complete bigot. During our argument he told me he wouldn’t work on a ship with anyone who was gay. He actually threatened me—said there was more than one way to leave the crew. His behavior was so strange I couldn’t believe it. He was irrational.”

Brie knew about fanatics. They can appear perfectly normal one minute and totally unbalanced the next. Hatred keeps them on the brink. Like active volcanoes, their anger may ooze out slowly, scorching everything around them, or erupt violently, without warning. She wondered if Pete could have bullied or threatened George enough to make him snap. She studied him for a moment.

“So why didn’t you tell me about this when we talked this morning?” she asked.

“It’s embarrassing, number one. And two, either way, gay or not, it makes me look like I had a pretty strong motive for killing Pete.”

“It does do that. But it certainly helps that you’ve been honest.”

Brie’s instincts were telling her that the truth and, hence, the killer, were not going to be easily discovered. She let George go, asking if he’d find Howard and send him in.

A gentle knock on the door announced Howard’s arrival. “Come in,” Brie called.

Howard stepped in and closed the door. “What a beautiful library, but this isn’t a good way to spend your vacation, is it?”

“I used to think I was pretty good at going with the flow,” Brie said. “Lately, though, I’ve done a lot of paddling against the current. Anyway, thanks for your concern, Howard. Come sit down.” Brie indicated the chair. “How’s everybody doing today?”

“It’s a subdued group, there’s no doubt about that, but everyone is attempting to get along.” He looked at the recorder as Brie clicked it on.

“Howard, did you see or hear anything at all unusual in the night?”

“I was so tired last night. I don’t think I’ve ever been that tired. It may be that I’m just too old for adventures like this.”

Brie noted that he hadn’t addressed the question, but she decided to come back to it since his comment had presented another opportunity. “Do you do things like this with Will very often?”

“Actually, this is the first time we’ve ever done anything like this. I was stunned that Will wanted me to go with him. I even asked him if he wouldn’t have more fun with one of his friends, but he said that I was the one he wanted on this trip with him. So, of course, I came. Will was a tag-along child—I was 46 when he was born. He was twelve years younger than his nearest sibling, and I guess we probably sheltered and spoiled him too much. By then money was no problem, but time was. I was at the peak of my career, and I worked a huge number of hours.”

“What was your job, Howard?”

“I owned a small manufacturing business. Anyway, I did teach Will to sail when he was young—it was the one thing we did together when he was a boy. There should have been a lot more things.” Howard’s eyes took on a look of regret, as if he were seeing things in focus for the first time, through the powerful lens of awareness that often only comes with age.

Suddenly, he looked up at Brie. “You know, there
was
something last night. I heard a noise in the middle of the night. It was a creaking, metallic sound. There’ve been lots of noises coming from the ship during the gale, but this was different from anything I’d heard. I’m not sure if it woke me up or if I happened to awake at just the right moment to hear it. It was on our side of the ship though—the starboard side. And a few moments after that I’d swear I heard someone try our door. I didn’t think anything of it at the time—not knowing Pete had been murdered.”

Brie thought about the position of Howard and Will’s cabin. It was behind the storeroom, and the storeroom sat directly in back of the galley, separated from it by a bulkhead. Rob had checked the storeroom. Where could that sound have come from? Brie jotted the question on her note pad.

“Do you know if Will got up at all during the night?”

“Not that I know of, but if you’re suggesting that he had anything to do with the murder, well, that’s just impossible. Will has his problems like all of us, but he’s no killer.”

Spoken like a true father
, Brie thought.

“I wasn’t suggesting anything, Howard—just trying to account for people’s whereabouts during Pete’s watch.”

“Of course. I’m sorry, Brie. Will has been...” Howard stopped mid-sentence and looked down at his hands.

“Will has been what?”

“Oh, nothing. Will’s been having a hard summer, that’s all.”

Brie had the distinct feeling that Howard had started to say something entirely different and changed his mind. What could it have been? Will has been in trouble; Will has been accused of something; Will has been to jail—been arrested. What? She’d never know now.

“Why is he having a hard summer? Is it because he didn’t get the job on the
Maine Wind
?”

“I think it’s just entering the real world of responsibilities. No more college campus. No more having Dad foot the bill. Kids in this generation have been pretty pampered—lots of privileges and not that many responsibilities. It’s a big transition for some of them.”

“Well, Howard, for your sake, I hope he makes the transition smoothly. Now, I need to ask Will some questions, so why don’t you send him in?”

“I’ll go get him, Brie,” he said, rising from the chair in a manner that indicated arthritis was already a factor. He limped a step or two before his body got into the swing; then he moved with more ease toward the door and closed it quietly after himself.

Brie picked up the length of grayed rope from the desktop and swiveled around to face the window. The rain was unrelenting. She tied a bowline, untied it, and tied another. She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to be a parent. There wasn’t much left of most people after they got done raising kids—as if the job just chewed them up and spat them out at the other end, old and tired.

Will walked into the library without knocking.
Why am I not surprised?
Brie thought, turning her chair back around.

“Dad says you want to see me,” he said, closing the door harder than necessary.

“Come sit down, Will.”

He slouched across the room and into the chair. Throwing one leg over the arm, like he was getting ready for a bull-shit session with one of his undoubtedly annoying buddies, he gave her a look that was half apathy, half arrogance.
Poor Howard
, Brie thought.
And for that matter, poor me
.

Except for the surly expression, everything about Will Thackeray spelled average—medium height, medium build, medium hair color. He didn’t carry himself like an athlete, but the snug fitting tee-shirt he wore revealed a well-toned body, suggesting he at least worked out.

Brie decided to play her big card first. Opening the top drawer of the desk, she took out the sock containing Pete’s marline spike and laid it on the desk. “Can you explain this? I found it in your bunk this morning.”

“What the hell gives you the right to go into my cabin!” He tried for indignation but totally lacked the integrity needed to carry it off.

“There’s been a murder—remember? And I’m the closest thing we’ve got to the law. What’s more, I had the captain’s permission to search the ship. Now answer the question.”

“I took it to make him look bad.”

“Why?”

“Because he was arrogant. I thought it might bring him down a notch.”

The pot and the kettle
, Brie thought.

“Did you kill him for the same reason?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He wasn’t worth ruining my life over.”

“And did you have other plans for making him ‘look bad’?”

“I guess you’ll never know,” he said, with an unpleasant smirk.

“Why did you keep the marline spike after Pete was murdered?”

“Souvenir. Can I have it back?”

Brie stared in disbelief. “No. It’s not yours—remember?”

Will got out of his chair and headed toward the door.

“Come back and sit down,” Brie ordered. She picked up her piece of rope, wrapped the two ends around her hands as they rested in her lap and snapped it tight—just in case she decided to strangle him. “You’ll leave when I’m done questioning you.”

She expected him to keep right on walking. But Surprisingly, he stopped in his tracks, turned and slunk back to his chair.

“Why did you bring your dad with you on this cruise instead of a friend?”

Will’s expression softened momentarily. “I just thought it would be nice for us to do this together. He’s getting older, and… I don’t know. What difference does that make?” he asked sharply, returning to his abrasive self.

Brie decided to move on. “Did you see or speak to Pete during his watch last night?”

“I saw him, although he didn’t see me.”

“Explain that, please.” Her patience was beginning to fray.

Will took out his most obsequious smile. “I can be of some real help to you in this,” he said, leaning toward her. “I saw Pete and Alyssa going at it up on deck an hour before he was found dead. And you know what else?”

“What?”

“It wasn’t the first time they were up there.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Let’s just say I’d seen another show in the same series.”

“You watched them?”

“Sure, why not—free entertainment.”

Brie regarded him with distaste.
Insectavis maximus
, she thought to herself.

Will pressed on with his sordid facts. “Last night he banged her way up in the bow of the ship. I crept along the side of the galley compartment, where it sticks up above the deck, and hid in the shadows so they couldn’t see me. But I could see everything in the light from the lantern. The whole thing was so hot; they had to be so quiet—I bet that made it twice as hot.” His eyes took on an unpleasant gleam. “She took off her rain slicker and she was wearing this really skimpy black dress with nothing on under it, and it got all wet in the rain. Pete pulled the top of the dress down…”

Will jabbered on, but Brie was focused on two words—black dress. She hadn’t seen any such garment among Alyssa’s things. She guessed the dress was a figment of Will’s libido-ridden imagination, but remembering the fibers under Pete’s fingernails, she jotted a note to herself. Pete could have gotten those fibers under his fingernails in the heat of passion. As to the whereabouts of the dress, Alyssa could have disposed of it for whatever reason. Or Will could have invented the whole thing, either because he had a penchant for little black dresses or because he knew the killer had worn black.

Brie tuned back in just in time to catch the climax.

“…and then he lifted her up against the hull, she wrapped her legs around him and he took her really fast.”

Will slumped back in the chair, consumed by his squalid tale. For a moment Brie studied him through the microscope of her disgust. She wasn’t sure if he should win the prize for most odious behavior, or if it should go to Alyssa, or, posthumously, to Pete.

“Turns you on, doesn’t it? Admit it,” he said, with a smirk. “You’re such an ice goddess—I know you’ve never done anything like that.”

“You’re right, Will. I’m a sucker for meaning in my relationships. But I’ll make sure I let Rob know how much you appreciated the show. Sadly, he already knows about Alyssa, so he may as well know about you too.”

Will went pale. “I was just kidding about what I said. I don’t really think you’re an ice goddess.”

“No, Will, you’re right. And, because I am, it’s my duty to let Rob know the cold, hard facts. I’m done with you,” she said, getting up and walking to the door. She held it open and turned to him. “Please leave.”

Will got up and ducked by her. Brie knew she’d never divulge what he had described, but she secretly relished the image of Rob picking him up and breaking him in half.

She walked back to the desk, picked up her piece of rope and stepped over to the window. Rain pelted the ground outside, forming a system of miniature lakes. Now she really felt sorry for Howard, even though he might inadvertently have helped create Will’s behavior. She stared out at the gloom, and as she skillfully worked the line in her hands, an elaborate Turk’s head knot began to emerge. Over the past year, she’d noted in herself a diminishing capacity for tolerance. She just didn’t roll with the punches the way she used to. There were more questions she should have asked Will, but she simply couldn’t stand his presence any longer. She’d get back to him later, when her blood pressure had returned to normal.

Tim was the last passenger she had to interview, and she expected that to be far less eventful than dealing with Will. Tossing the Turk’s head back on the desk, she opened the drawer and put away the marline spike. Stepping away from the desk, she stretched her arms over her head, clasped her hands together, and leaned slowly forward, bringing her hands to the floor. She hung there for a few seconds, folded in half, and drew in several deep breaths. Then she slowly rolled back up to a standing position. Feeling a little calmer, she headed out into the hall to locate Tim.

Brie found everyone but Tim in the game room. Rob and Alyssa were playing cards, Howard was reading in the corner farthest from the TV, and John, Scott, George, and Will were watching a video with the original
Saturday Night Live
cast.