Set Sail for Murder (10 page)

Polly strolled up to the table and was greeted with immediate recognition and awe by the younger—although still old by anyone’s standards—members of the party. She smiled at the honorees and said, “Such a long marriage! You must be the only people left on Earth who were around when Edison invented the lightbulb!” Polly spied a glass of champagne. She picked it up, took a long swallow, and made a face. Raising the glass in the direction of the anniversary couple she said, “A wise woman once said, ‘The first time you marry for love. The second time, for money.’ I hope you’ve got plenty of dough, because neither of you is in any shape to start over again.”

The entire bar erupted with gales of laughter. Spoken by anyone else, the words might have been considered caustic and insulting. But Polly Pepper had a way of letting the targets of her jests know that everyone was in on the silly and innocent fun, and that no offense was ever intended. She kissed the elderly couple on their foreheads. “Bravo! Brava! Toodles!” she said before turning around and seeing Tim
and Placenta seated at a table with two women who were probably about her own age, but who appeared older and certainly less well cared for.

Tim stood up when his mother arrived. “Miss Polly Pepper,” he said, “may I introduce Ms. Sarah Stratton, and Ms. Rachel Lashton.”

Both women had radiant smiles and reached out to shake Polly’s hand. “I was thrilled beyond my wildest dreams when you paged me!” Sarah Stratton gushed. “The Lord made this my lucky day!”

“It’s
my
lucky day!” Polly countered. “Lord knows.”

“Imagine, being invited for drinks with the famous Polly Pepper! Is this the prize I get for getting sixty-five percent on the
Days of Our Lives
trivia contest?” Rachel Lashton said.

“I’m the winner. And good for you for knowing your
DOOL
trivia—sort of! Pop quiz. Bo told Hope about his latest psychic vision. True or false?” said Polly.

“Um …”

“EJ is the only one who saw Sami kissing the former bodyguard, Rafe!”

“Er …”

“Never mind. I prefer
General Hospital.
Polly raised her hand to get the attention of a cocktail waitress passing by. “We’ll have a bottle of something cold and bubbly and expensive.
Tout de suite, por favor,
Sweetums.”

Placenta looked at Polly. “Are you sure the ship company is picking up the tab?”

Polly dismissed Placenta’s concern. While she waited for her champagne to arrive, she made small talk with Sarah and Rachel about the fun time she was having on this Kool Krooz. Both women were quickly revealed to be movie star fanatics and had booked reservations on this cruise a year in advance. “This is my annual vacation,” Sarah said. “I’ve already seen Alan Thicke, Ally Sheedy, Tom Wopat, Joyce DeWitt and that dead actress from your old show!
And lobster and steak for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, too!”

Not to be outdone, Rachel added, “I saw Justine Bateman in the pool, and Soleil Moon Frye was walking around without bodyguards, just like an ordinary everyday person. Oh, and I hear that Dr. Ruth and Tina Yothers are aboard! I saw Laura Crawford, too.”

“Before, during, or after her spa treatment?” Polly asked.

“But the biggest star, by far, is you, Polly Pepper!” Rachel said, ignoring Polly’s query.

When the cocktail waitress returned, she set five champagne flutes on the table and uncorked a bottle that was nesting in a bucket of ice. “Barbara Eden and Craig T. Nelson were on the last cruise,” the waitress said.

Placenta knitted her eyebrows and gave her a look.

“But it’s true, Polly Pepper is the biggest name we’ve had in quite some time.” She looked at Placenta again. “Okay. The biggest name
ever.
Jeez.”

The waitress then poured champagne into each of their flutes. Polly was first and didn’t wait for the others to be served. She drank her full glass, then held it out for a refill.

When at last they all had been served, Polly raised her flute and offered a toast. “To new friends, and to the one dear person missing from this amazing moment, my darling former costar and very close confidante and trusted friend, Laura Crawford.”

“The
National Peeper
said that you two couldn’t stand each other,” Sarah said between sips of champagne. “I didn’t like her because you didn’t like her. That’s how much of a fan of yours I am!”

“Laura was easy for some to dislike—perhaps even to wish a Hollywood death similar to that Phil Spector victim, Lana Clarkson,” Polly said. “Poor baby. Even I know not to clean a shotgun with my tongue, especially one belonging to that wig-wearing freak-o music producer.”

“Also, the
Peeper
said that Laura had a potty mouth,” Sarah continued. “As a good Christian, I don’t know if I could ever invite her into my home. My friends wouldn’t understand.”

“You’ll never have that problem,” Placenta said with an edge to her voice.

“Good Lord, the
Peeper!”
Polly said. “I make it a personal policy to never read a word in that trashy rag. Unless someone gives me a heads-up to something flattering written about me.”

“I’m with you,” Rachel echoed.

“I try to keep a clean mind and not judge those who don’t deserve to be.”

“We’re exactly alike,” Rachel added.

“Yes, Laura and I may have had teensy differences from time to time—all friends do—but she was extremely important to me, and to the success of our show,” Polly said.

“It wouldn’t have been the same without her,” Rachel agreed.

Sarah said, “I’m just like you two, I never judge others—unless they’re not Christians. I was behind Laura Crawford in the check-in line at the dock, and the way she treated the embarkation agent when he wouldn’t give her a cabin upgrade was very disappointing.”

Rachel waited for Polly’s response.

“I’ll bet she got the upgrade.” Polly glanced at Tim and Placenta.

“Of course,” Sarah said. “I overheard her say that
you
were trading staterooms with her. But isn’t that just like the Polly Pepper that everybody knows and loves?”

“Absolutely, the Polly that we all know and love,” Rachel gushed.

“She surely didn’t learn manners from you,” Sarah continued.

“No manners,” Rachel parroted.

“When she stepped back and crushed my foot, she gave me a look as if it were my fault I was in her way. I thought, somebody needs to be taught a lesson,” Sarah said.

Polly perked up. “A lesson? Oh, for sure. A darn good one, too. She had to be taught right from wrong. What did you have in mind? Something she’d never forget. One that would make Laura Crawford realize that she’d stepped on the wrong toes and you weren’t a pushover! Maybe a threatening letter sent to her cabin? No, she’d tear it to shreds and forget about it. Something more memorable. A kick in the shins? How ‘bout an old-fashioned slap on her behind? Nah. Those wouldn’t do the trick either. You’d have to really show her you wouldn’t be treated like a nobody, just because she once was a somebody!”

Tim shot his mother a withering look.

Sarah, who was now two glasses into a champagne high, gave Polly an evil smile. “You’re reading my thoughts. Of course, the Devil got into me and gave me some ideas!”

Polly reached out and tenderly touched Sarah’s wrist and sang, “‘Jesus loves you, this you know, for the Bible tells you so.’”

“Damn right. And I’m not responsible for what happens when that cunning fiend Lucifer monkeys around with my righteous heart …”

“… and tiny brain,” Placenta whispered.

Polly’s attention was undivided. Sarah, too, seemed to be drifting into a daze of clouded memory. “I prayed on this for a long while after Laura Crawford stepped all over me in public,” Sarah continued. “But I know from experience that when I encounter Beelzebub’s instrument of evil, it’s my Christian duty to do the Lord’s work here on Earth. So I … I …”

“You wanted to confront Laura about her behavior, even though she was a famous TV star.” Polly filled in the blank.

Sarah gave Polly a vacant look. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Having made a decision to teach her a lesson—er—cast out the demon hiding inside of her, you frantically searched the whole ship for Laura and finally found her in the spa. You reminded her that we’re living in the end times and that if she continued to treat little people like the dirt under your fingernails she’d never be raptured up to Heaven. But you, being a true Christian, could save her soul by destroying the evil spirit right then and there and thus free her to be resurrected when the Lord’s time comes!”

Sarah forced a small smile and coughed out a weak, “Ha, ha. Sorry, but I guess I’m overly tired or have had too much champagne, ‘cause I’m not quite getting the joke.”

Rachel looked at Sarah and said, “You have no sense of humor. Polly Pepper is a riot! Let me translate Hollywood humor. She’s explaining how you killed Laura Crawford. Funny, huh?”

“It’s my guess that Laura Crawford also taunted you in the spa,” Polly continued. “She said that you were a nut job. That you were mad, deranged, unhinged, a mental wacko. Laura was everything that Sunday-school teachers described when talking about the anti-Christ. Am I right? And you stood in the little massage room, with the gentle sounds of harps and falling water and flickering candles, and decided to pull the plug on Satan’s twisted wreckage of a person. So you opened your
Polly Pepper Playhouse
boxed DVDs collector’s edition and swiped the edge of a disc across her throat. Job done! World peace restored. St. Peter sending another soul on an eternal vacation to the Lake of Fire.”

“My demon can beat up your demon, eh?” Placenta said to Sarah.

Sarah was dumbfounded.

“Demons come. Demons go. Here today, gone tomorrow—or the day we set sail,” Polly continued. “So many others would have killed for the opportunity to do what you did. You stalked your prey. Confronted the devil. Then
you succeeded where that adorable and sexy and totally hypocritical Ted Haggard failed. He only wanted drugs and male prostitutes. Your sin actually has a great big commandment. Thou shalt not …”

Sarah grew wildly indignant. “Sins? The Lord took ‘em all away at Calvary!”

“Convenient,” Placenta sassed.

“Oh, shut up, heathen!” Sarah exploded at Placenta. Many in the bar looked in the direction of Polly’s table. Sarah bellowed, “Laura Crawford got just what she deserved! She was a lousy singer, too. Her acting wasn’t much better, but that hardly matters when she treated me with disdain. Miserable people like Laura have to be eliminated. I’m only sorry that I wasn’t the chosen one to do something about her.

“I’d better go,” Sarah said, scooting her chair back and rising. “I’ll tell my husband that I had drinks, er, I’d better say a Coke, with the famous Polly Pepper. He’ll think another demon has gotten sucked into me. It happens a lot. Actually, maybe it’s best that I forget we ever had this meeting.” Sarah shook Polly’s hand. “It’s been … informative,” she said, and nodded to the others.

As Sarah started to walk away, she hesitated for a moment and then turned back to Polly. “I know that you Hollywood people worship that golden graven image of the false god Oscar, but I won’t stand by as you blaspheme The Church of the Righteous Sinners, the one
true
religion. I don’t mind being in your funny story about how Laura Crawford died—bless her damned soul—but I wouldn’t want a joke like that to get around. You know how people talk, especially on the Internet. If Pastor Deuteronomy hears such a tall tale, he and the church elders might keep me from coming back again on next year’s Kool Krooz. And—heaven forbid—our church bulletin will suggest every Christian boycott your DVD collection. We were successful in
obliterating ticket sales of Eddie Murphy’s
Imagine That,
so you know our power.”

“Somehow I doubt that your congregation alone moved that flick out of theaters so quickly,” Placenta teased.

After Sarah had finally disappeared out the door, Rachel took a long swallow of her drink and looked straight into Polly’s eyes. “What did we
really
do for the
privilege
of having drinks with America’s … um, the world’s … most famous television star from the old days?” she asked.

Polly disliked being reminded that no one under the age of forty had probably ever heard of her television program. “I simply wanted to get to know a few people who I’m told appreciated my program enough to purchase the all-new boxed set collector’s edition DVDs of
The Polly Pepper Playhouse,”
she said. “You were just two out of hundreds who bought the new compilation here on the ship, so I wanted to autograph your discs.”

Rachel, having imbibed an impressive amount of champagne said, “I think you’re full of it. So did Sarah, but she’s too much of a wimp to say so. Sure, I crack up whenever I see you as Bedpan Bertha. Oh, the things you, as Bertha, used to do to poor Bill Bixby, Sherman Hemsley, Ralph Macchio, and all the other stars! Performing a Pap smear on Tom Selleck was a classic laugh riot. But I think you’re nuts if you really think that Sarah had something to do with Laura Crawford’s death. Granted, I don’t know her. But I know her type. Needs a pack of parishioners behind her before she’ll commit to anything dastardly. She’s sheep and needs a dog nipping at her hind legs.”

“They’re all on your new DVDs. The Bedpan Bertha sketches, I mean,” Polly said.

“I think you’re investigating the death of your so-called friend, and we’re somehow suspects,” Rachel continued. “Like I said, I read the
Peeper.
So I know that you hang out with dead people and find out who made ‘em stop
breathing in the first place. Just don’t think for a fraction of a second that I had anything to do with anybody’s death. I don’t know about that Sarah chick—she is sorta possessed. As a matter of fact, I don’t even have your DVDs, so you don’t need to sign ‘em for me.”

Polly looked at Tim, who took out the Excel sheet that Tiffany-Amber had provided, and unfolded the paper. “According to the sales report, you purchased the
Polly Pepper Playhouse
special collector’s edition the day before yesterday.”

Rachel made a face and snatched the paper out of Tim’s hand. She looked at the names and turned the sheet over. “Hundreds of people?” Rachel sniggered at the short list.