“I can understand that,” Alvirah said. “Willy and I heard him shouting at Yvonne the other night when we walked past their suite. He was saying that he could go to prison for twenty years.”
“Alvirah, what do I do about the necklace? Lady Em told me she had decided to do what Ted Cavanaugh asked. When she returned to New York, she would give the necklace to her lawyers and they would turn it over to Ted. Apparently at the cocktail party, the Captain had suggested to Lady Em that she give it to him to keep in his private safe. Last night Lady Em gave it to me and asked me to bring it to the Captain this morning.” Celia shook her head. “I’ve been so afraid to tell anyone that I have it. I’m sure there are plenty of people who already think I’m a thief because of the hedge fund. It will be easy for them to believe that I killed Lady Em and stole the necklace.”
“You’re right,” Alvirah agreed. “But you can’t be walking around with it in your pocket. And it will look terrible for you if someone finds it in your suite.”
“That’s my point,” Celia sighed. “I’m in trouble if I admit having it, and I’m in trouble if I hold on to it.”
“Celia, do you want me to hold it for you? I’ll give it to Willy. Let him be the one carrying it around. It will be safe with him. I can guarantee you that.”
“But what happens when we reach Southampton?” Celia asked. “What will you and Willy do with it then?”
“I have a little time to figure that out,” Alvirah said grimly. “I’m considered a pretty good detective. Let’s see if I can solve this case before we reach Southampton.”
With a sense of being unburdened, Celia picked up the necklace and handed it to Alvirah.
“It is so beautiful,” Alvirah commented, as she put it in her pocketbook.
“It is,” Celia agreed. “I think it is the most beautiful piece of jewelry I have ever seen.”
Alvirah paused, looked at Celia and asked with a smile, “Should I be worried about the Cleopatra curse?”
“No,” Celia said, smiling back at her. “The curse is that ‘whoever takes this necklace to sea, will never live to reach the shore.’ And if the curse was real, poor Lady Em was the victim.”
As she spoke, Celia’s mind was filled with the memory of Lady Em’s troubled, sad face when she told her that her two trusted confidants, Brenda and Roger, had been cheating her.
72
Raymond Broad, Lady Em’s butler on the ship, had been sure that the information he sent to the gossip website PMT about Lady Em’s murder and the stolen necklace would be traced to him. To his surprise, he was not questioned beyond his original statement that he had found Lady Em dead in her suite. The security chief called to admonish him to not speak to guests or anyone else about what he saw in Lady Em’s room. But they appeared now to be assigning the blame for tipping off the news media to a mysterious jewel thief who was purportedly on the ship.
His thoughts returned to when he was in the suite and realized Lady Em was dead. A few feet from her bed the door of her wall safe was open and jewelry was scattered on the floor. He regretted that he had not followed his first impulse. Take some of the jewelry. Maybe take all of it. It would be assumed that whoever killed her and opened the safe would have taken it. He had even considered hiding it in the breakfast cart which he wheeled away after being dismissed by Dr. Blake.
But what if they had treated him like a suspect? Would they have searched him or the breakfast cart? Kicking himself, he realized that if he had merely closed the door of the safe, no one would have focused on a robbery. He could have left with the jewelry and no one would have been the wiser.
His other reason for regret was that Lady Em was known as a very big tipper. So on all counts I lose, he decided.
After Lady Em’s suite was sealed, he had been reassigned and was now in charge of both Professor Longworth’s and Brenda Martin’s cabins. He did not think much of either of them. The professor barely acknowledged him when he was in the room. And Brenda Martin was constantly asking for one thing after another.
Broad had received a call from his contact at PMT confirming payment to him for his tip about Lady Em and asking him to be very sure to notify them immediately of any further developments on the murder and the theft. Raymond had eagerly assented, even while he admitted to himself that it was unlikely he would uncover any new information before Queen Charlotte arrived in Southampton.
The phone in his little kitchen rang. It was Brenda Martin. She wanted afternoon tea served in her suite. It was not necessary for her to add that she wanted the tiny sandwiches and pastries that were always served with afternoon tea. There won’t be a crumb left when she’s finished, Raymond thought.
73
The Man with One Thousand Faces had narrowed down the number of suspects who might have taken the necklace to only one, Brenda Martin. He knew she had a key to Lady Em’s suite. What would be more natural than for her to go there, ostensibly to check on Lady Haywood? It had been obvious that Lady Em was not feeling well when she got up from her final dinner.
As he straightened his tie and started down to dinner, he wondered what he would say to Brenda if he saw her. He was tempted to say, “Brenda, have a good meal. It may very well be your last supper.”
74
Roger did not realize his arms had stopped flailing. He did not hear a voice shouting, “Grab him, he’s sinking!” He did not feel arms go under both his shoulders. He was not aware that he was being pulled up and lifted onto something.
He did not feel a blanket being thrown over him. He was unaware of the sound of an engine starting to roar or that he was being lifted up and hoisted over a railing. In his mind he was beginning to sink. The waves breaking over him were making it impossible to breathe.
He could barely hear the ship’s doctor say, “Take him down to the infirmary. We’ve got to warm him up.”
On those comforting words, Roger drifted off to sleep.
75
Alvirah held her pocketbook tight after she left Celia and went back to her room. Willy was there and looked up expectantly. He was surprised that Alvirah, before she even greeted him, turned around and bolted the door of the suite.
“What’s that about?” Willy asked.
“Let me show you what it’s about,” she whispered. “And keep your voice down.”
Opening her pocketbook, she reached into it and pulled out the Cleopatra necklace.
“Is that what I think it is?” he asked as he took the three-strand necklace from her hand.
“Yes, it is,” Alvirah answered.
“Where did you get it?”
“Celia gave it to me.”
“How did she get it? Don’t tell me she was the one who smothered that poor old woman.”