Devon Michaelson? Unlikely, he thought. I believe his story about being here to scatter his wife’s ashes. And the way he’s trying to resist Anna’s overtures is consistent with a grieving widower.
Having satisfied himself with his tablemates, he glanced at the next table. He knew immediately that he did not like Gregory Morrison. He may own the ship, he thought, but it must have cost a fortune to build. Lady Em’s necklace would be a big prize for him to get. Of course, nobody could risk trying to sell it. But every one of those three-strand emeralds would bring him a fortune on the jewelry market.
As he thought about it more, Ted wondered if for Morrison, having the Cleopatra necklace, just like having this ship, would be one more larger-than-life trophy. Even hidden from view, to Morrison the necklace would be an affirmation of his success in the world. He could indeed have anything he wanted, and would do anything to get it.
Morrison could definitely be a suspect. Also, Ted did not like the way the ship owner moved his chair nearer to Celia’s.
What about Yvonne? If Lady Em had threatened an outside review of Roger Pearson’s handling of her affairs, it was quite possible that she too would have been found complicit in his bilking of the estate.
She’s not brilliant, Ted decided, but she is smart enough and maybe vicious enough to protect herself any way she can.
Brenda Martin? No. She couldn’t have choked herself, and what would have been the point? Celia already had the Cleopatra necklace.
Professor Longworth? Of course, a possibility, but not much of a probability. Ted knew that he traveled widely, giving lectures at top universities as well as on cruise ships all over the world. Including Egypt. But he was definitely someone to keep in mind.
Ted’s eyes shifted to the Captain’s table. What about Fairfax? He moved easily all over the world, and he had been the one to urge Lady Em to turn the necklace over to him. Was he upset when she turned him down? Upset enough to kill her? On the other hand, if she had given it to him, he would have had no good way to refuse to give it back to her or her estate. So he wasn’t much of a bet to be the murderer and thief.
Dissatisfied with his own reckoning, Ted turned his attention back to the table. He noticed that, as usual, Anna DeMille was brushing her arm against Michaelson. Dear God, but she is a pest, Ted thought. Poor Michaelson. If Anna DeMille goes overboard, he will be on the short list of suspects.
In an attempt to contribute to the conversation Ted asked, “I am sure everyone is packed by now?”
“We are,” Alvirah announced.
“So am I,” Anna volunteered. “Although I have to say I had tears in my eyes when I closed the suitcase and thought that I may never see any of you again.” Her comment was clearly addressed to Devon Michaelson, who flushed an angry red.
Alvirah tried to break the tension. “We’d love to keep in touch with you, Anna.” Ignoring Willy’s look of dismay, she pulled out a sheet of paper from her purse and scribbled their email address on it. For a moment she hesitated, then decided to skip putting their home address and phone number. Willy is at the end of his patience with me, she thought.
The final evening meal was exquisite. They all agreed on that. Once again it was a caviar appetizer; fillet of sole or roast beef; a salad; cheesecake and ice cream with mixed berries in a liquor sauce; coffee, espresso, cappuccino or tea.
The wine flowed with each course. Ted found himself remembering fondly the grilled cheese, bacon and tomato sandwich at lunch. I don’t want any more gourmet food for at least a year, he thought.
Willy’s comment was along the same lines. “Back to the gym the minute we reach New York,” he said firmly.
“Me too,” Alvirah sighed. “I doubt if I’ll fit back into my fancy clothes for a while. And I was doing so good on my diet.”
Anna DeMille sighed. “I don’t get food anything like this in Kansas.” She glanced lovingly at Devon. “How’s the food in Montreal?”
Devon appeared increasingly frustrated that once again he was being put in a position of either appearing to be rude or having to participate in a conversation he had no interest in.
“Montreal is a very cosmopolitan city. You can find almost any type of food there.”
“I’m sure you can. I’ve always wanted to visit there. When I looked on my computer this morning, I was pleasantly surprised to see that there are direct flights from Kansas City to Montreal.”
At the next table the dinner was drawing to a close. Morrison had no intention of staying all evening, but he was becoming increasingly intrigued by Celia. He had figured out who she looked like. Jackie Kennedy, of course. One of the most beautiful and intelligent women who had ever set foot in the White House.
As they finished coffee, he said, “Celia, I go back and forth to my office in New York. As you can understand, I can’t stay on the ship for the entire three-month around-the-world sail. I do hope that I may have the pleasure of having you dine with me very soon in Manhattan or having you join me for vacations on my ship.”
Ted had overheard and in an instant was standing behind Celia’s chair. For the benefit of Morrison and all others within hearing distance, he asked, “Ready to go, dear?”
Her smile answered his question. As if a silent signal had been passed, everyone stood up and said good night. Since it was going to be a very early morning, there was no suggestion of having a final nightcap.
92
“That guy was trying to hit on you,” Ted said, his mouth in an angry, tight line.
“He sure was,” Willy chimed in as he pushed the button for the elevator. “Just because he owns this ship, what makes him think he has any right to start rubbing your arm?”
“He’s a disgrace,” Alvirah said firmly, but her mind was elsewhere.
As they started down the corridor to their rooms, she turned to Celia. “I have to say that I am very nervous about your being alone,” she began. “As we all know, someone managed to get into Lady Em’s room and Brenda’s room as well. And I bet my bottom dollar that whoever is looking for the Cleopatra necklace has figured out that Lady Em gave it to you.”
“I absolutely agree,” Ted said emphatically. “Now, what do we do about it?”
“I put my thinking cap on, and I have a great idea,” Alvirah volunteered. “Celia, you should come in with me, and Willy can sleep in your room. I can tell you this right now. Nobody is going to suffocate or strangle Willy.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Ted agreed.
Celia shook her head. “No way. We’re all stressed out. I’m not going to have Willy lying awake most of the night and Alvirah worrying about him. I promise I’ll put the chain on my door. No one’s going to get in with it on.”