Malachi stretched out his hand. She hesitated only briefly and accepted it to join him on board the ship.
Dock lights lit up the main part of the forecastle and performance area. Abby hurried on to the restaurant area and the restrooms. Employee lockers were in an anteroom. She turned on lights as she went in and heard Malachi behind her, searching the snack stand and environs.
She found Helen’s locker, which was open. But on inspection of its contents yielded nothing except for a sweater, a makeup bag, a brush and Helen’s costume.
Frustrated, Abby closed the locker.
The others were open and she decided to search them, as well. She felt awkward—as if she were sticking her nose where she really had no right—but Blake Stewart and Jack Winston worked with Helen. They were friends, and Blake had been in love with Helen. It had to be done.
But their lockers yielded nothing, either. There was a small costume and prop area next to them. She went through the swords and guns used by the players, touching each one. None was real. The blades were plastic, although they’d been artfully created to appear real.
She left the lockers, disappointed, and discovered that Malachi was no longer in the snack shop.
“Malachi?”
“Down in the magazine!” he called to her.
She hurried to the below deck and found him by one of the hammocks against the inner hull, placed there for the use of the cast and crew.
“Anything?” she asked.
“Maybe.” He handed her a folded pamphlet.
“It’s a tour map,” she said. “Actually, this particular map is printed and put out by a friend of mine. You might have met him at the Dragonslayer yesterday. I went to high school with him—he was a major player in our drama department and a huge history buff. He does ghost tours here in the city and they’re supposed to be some of the best.”
“Roger English,” Malachi said.
“Yes. You did meet him, then.”
“No. His name is on the map. It’s advertising for his tours.”
“And you think Helen might have had it? The map, I mean.”
He nodded. “I do. Because this looks like a woman’s handwriting—small, neat, lots of curlicues. I know there’s a young woman working on the crew, but the probability that it’s Helen’s is high. And she’s marked something. Here.” He pointed at a location on the map.
“Let me see it, please.”
Abby took the map from him. It had real streets and real places, but they were sketched out cartoon-style. There was a checkmark on the map and in the border was written, “Meet here.”
“What do you think?”
Abby shook her head. “That isn’t any particular place, but there’s an old church nearby. It was deconsecrated years ago and was a restaurant and nightclub for a while. Right now, it’s just empty. A private restoration group bought it about a year ago, but they haven’t started working on it yet.”
“Interesting,” he murmured.
“But you thought people were being snatched on the river,” Abby said.
“I do believe the victims are being taken out to the river. But...we have nothing that tells us where they’re being taken from. They’re dying on it, yes—but how are they getting there?”
“Rupert Holloway was supposed to be meeting friends right here at the riverfront,” she reminded him.
“Yes, but no one saw him here. Or, even if he was taken down here, it doesn’t mean the women were kidnapped on the river. Can we go there? You know this part of the city.”
“Of course we can go there. But that precise area is just the sidewalk,” Abby said. “Except that...well, I could talk to Roger. He knows Savannah even better than I do. Maybe he can see something that I’m not seeing.”
“Tell me more about Roger.”
“Like I said, he’s a friend from high school. I’m positive he’s not a suspect. If he were going to kill anyone, it would be over a prime role in a pirate movie or in an argument on the history of Savannah. Roger, well, I’ve known him all my life. And I can’t see him taking any...any physical trophies. He passed out at school when we were donating blood during an emergency blood drive.”
Malachi’s phone rang, and he answered it. “David,” he told her.
“Yes,” he went on, “we’re down in the magazine. Coming up. We’ll leave it to your fine crew now, my friend.” He ended the call.
“Investigators are here. They can finish. I think we might have found something useful. He folded the map and put it in his pocket.
“You’re not going to give it to the cops?” she asked him.
“I’ll tell David the location, and he can send a car to check it out. I say we leave the rest of this to the experts and head back. I might have a surprise for you,” he added.