All by Myself, Alone

“Willy, you know as well as I do that Celia Kilbride is no murderer or thief. This is what happened.”


Her voice still low, she told Willy everything Celia had shared with her. She finished by saying, “You can understand how frightened she is. She was absolutely certain that if people found out she had the necklace, they would never believe that Lady Em gave it to her.”

“I can see that,” Willy agreed. “So what do we do now? I don’t want anyone to find out you have it and end up killing you.”

“You’re right, Willy, and that’s why you have to hold on to it, keep it with you at all times. It will be safest with you.”

“But after we get off the ship, what do we do with it?” Willy asked.

“Celia told me that Lady Em was planning to give it to Ted Cavanaugh because she agreed with him that it belonged to the people of Egypt.”

“Well, I just hope they don’t frisk me,” Willy said, matter-of-factly.

He stood up and slid the necklace into his pants pocket, where it immediately caused a visible bulge. Alvirah saw the look of dismay on his face.

“When you put your jacket on, nobody will notice,” she said.

“I hope not.” After a pause, Willy asked, “Okay, what do we do now?”

“Willy, you know I’m a good detective.”

He looked alarmed. “Don’t tell me you’re going to try to solve this mystery. Don’t forget. You’re dealing with a killer who didn’t get what he or she wanted.”

“I understand that. But when you think about it, Lady Em told Celia that she was sure both Roger Pearson and Brenda were cheating her. Isn’t that awful?”

“We heard Roger and Yvonne at each other’s throats the other night. It’s a heck of a coincidence that Roger was dead less than twenty-four hours later.”

“I know it is. And Lady Em was dead only hours after she told Celia that Brenda had been switching her jewelry.” She continued, “You know, Willy, I’ve been wondering if Roger Pearson fell overboard or if he got a little help from Yvonne.”

“You don’t think she pushed him over, do you?” Willy asked incredulously.

“I’m not saying it, but I’m thinking it, just wondering about it. I mean you can certainly see that those two were not close. She was at Celia’s lecture today with a couple of friends. She sure didn’t look to me like a grieving widow. And when you think about it, with Lady Em dead and Roger dead, the question about what he was doing with her finances will probably just go away. And that is very good news for Yvonne.”

They stared at each other. Willy spoke first. “Do you think Yvonne might have also killed Lady Em?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“But what about this rumor about a jewel thief, ‘the Man with One Thousand Faces’?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t know,” Alvirah said, lost in thought.





76




One by one, people gathered for a formal dinner. At one table were Professor Longworth, Yvonne, Celia and Brenda. At the table next to theirs Alvirah and Willy, Devon Michaelson, Ted Cavanaugh and Anna DeMille were seated. Conversation at both tables was limited and awkward.

“Acupuncture is wonderful,” Alvirah was telling Cavanaugh. “I don’t know what I’d do without it. Sometimes when I fall asleep, I dream I’m having those little needles stuck in me. And I always wake up feeling better.”

“I can understand that,” Ted told her. “My mother goes for acupuncture to her arthritic hip, and she says it does her a world of good.”

“Oh, your mother has arthritis?” Alvirah exclaimed. “Is she Irish?”

“Her maiden name was Maureen Byrnes. And my father is half-Irish.”

“The reason I ask,” Alvirah said, “is that arthritis is believed to be an Irish disease. My theory is that our Irish ancestors were out in the cold and the rain gathering peat for their fires. The dampness seeped into their DNA.”

Ted laughed. He acknowledged to himself that he found Alvirah both interesting and refreshing.

Anna DeMille did not like to be left out of a conversation for long. “I saw you had a drink with Celia Kilbride,” she told Ted, “and you attended her presentation. I think she’s a very good speaker, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” Ted said quietly.

Willy listened to the conversation as his hand went restlessly to his pocket where the Cleopatra necklace was being kept. He was glad not to get into the discussion about acupuncture. Alvirah was always urging him to get it for his back pain. And it was uncomfortable to hear that an obviously smart guy like Ted Cavanaugh had a relative who used it.

Devon Michaelson had been listening with little interest, but then he saw Gregory Morrison walking about, visiting from table to table. Probably telling everybody they have nothing to worry about, he thought.

His attention shifted to the table nearest them. There were only four people there now. He could see that the conversation was stilted. None of them looked happy to be there. Then he noticed that Morrison was on his way to Longworth’s table. He bristled at the sight of him, then acknowledged to himself that he did not easily accept criticism.

Devon strained to hear what was being said, but he could barely pick up a word. An additional diversion was the fact that Anna DeMille had placed her hand over his and was asking him in a tender voice, “Are you feeling better today, Devon dear?”

Gregory Morrison was fully aware that the chairs had been spaced farther apart to make it less obvious that two people were missing from the table he was approaching. Lady Haywood and Roger Pearson, the jerk who had fallen overboard. Neither was a great loss to the human race as far as he was concerned. It seemed appropriate, however, to offer his sympathy to Pearson’s widow, who hardly looked devastated by her loss. He knew crocodile tears when he saw them. He took comfort from the fact that his ship could not be held responsible for the loss of someone who had been stupid enough to sit on the railing. After a few words to Yvonne, he put his hand on Brenda’s shoulder. “I understand that you were Lady Haywood’s trusted companion of twenty years,” he said. And I wonder if you killed her, he added silently to himself.

Brenda’s eyes became moist. “They were the best twenty years of my life,” she said simply. “I’ll miss her forever.”

She must have been left some money by Lady Haywood, Morrison thought. I wonder how much.

“Mr. Morrison,” Brenda said, “in addition to the missing Cleopatra necklace, Lady Em brought a lot of expensive jewelry on this cruise. My understanding is that it was on the floor near her bed when they found her. Are you taking steps to assure that nothing happens to it?”

“I am sure that the Captain and our security chief are following all appropriate procedures.”

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