He put on his jacket, a lightweight plaid perfectly suitable for mid-September weather, and glanced at his watch. It was ten minutes before seven. Punctuality is the politeness of kings, he thought to himself.
His suite was on the concierge floor, and he had been pleasantly surprised that on this new liner the amenities were substantially more luxurious than the ones on older ships. Of course it was a joke to use the word “suite” for a bed/sitting room, but so be it. He walked over to the long mirror on the bathroom door and took a full-length glimpse of himself to be sure there was nothing amiss in his appearance. His reflection showed a thin sixty-year-old man, of medium height, wearing rimless glasses over intense brown eyes, with a bald head and a fringe of gray hair around it. He nodded approvingly, then went to the dresser to look over the passenger list again. Not surprisingly, celebrities from different walks of life were aboard. I wonder how many of them are complimentary guests of Castle Line. Quite a few, he imagined.
Since his retirement he had become a frequent lecturer on the line and was very popular with the cruise director. Six months ago, after reading the advance publicity of the maiden voyage of the Queen Charlotte, he had contacted the booking office and indicated that he would be pleased to be a guest lecturer on that voyage.
And here he was. With a warm feeling of satisfaction, Professor Henry Longworth left his cabin to go to the Queen’s cocktail lounge and mingle among the most important passengers on board.
8
Ted Cavanaugh took a fleeting glance around his suite and then dismissed it. As the son of an ambassador, he was accustomed to luxurious surroundings. And even though these accommodations struck him as remarkably expensive, he was not going to waste any time enjoying them. Thirty-four years old, Ted had lived abroad with his parents until his college years, attending the international school in whichever country his father was posted. He was fluent in French, Spanish, and Egyptian Arabic. A legacy graduate of Harvard University, then Stanford Law School, his passion for antiquities traced back to his youthful years in Egypt.
Eight months ago, he had read that Lady Emily Haywood had signed on to the maiden voyage of the Queen Charlotte. He recognized the opportunity he would have as a fellow guest to find an occasion to plead his case to Lady Haywood. Cavanaugh intended to make clear to her that even though her father-in-law, Richard Haywood, had bought the necklace one hundred years ago, the evidence was overwhelming that it was a stolen artifact. If she gave it to the Smithsonian Institution and his law firm sued to recover it, it would generate unpleasant publicity for Lady Haywood and both her late husband and his father. The men were famed explorers, but his research indicated that they were guilty on several occasions of raiding ancient tombs.
That would be his pitch. It was well known that Lady Haywood took passionate pride in her husband’s legacy. She might possibly listen to reason rather than have his reputation and that of his father sullied by a nasty lawsuit.
With this thought in mind, Ted decided that until cocktail time he would give himself the brief luxury of settling down with a book he had been wanting to read for months.
9
Devon Michaelson had scant interest in his surroundings. His luggage contained only the necessary clothing for this kind of trip. Behind his bland expression, his hazel eyes were alert and penetrating. He heard everything and missed nothing.
He was disappointed when he learned that the ship’s captain and the chief of security had to be made aware of his presence on the ship. The fewer people who knew, the better, he thought. But if he was going to accomplish his mission, he needed the cooperation of Castle Lines to be placed at a table near Lady Emily Haywood’s, where he could observe her and those around her.
The “Man with One Thousand Faces” was well known to Interpol. His brazen thefts, which had occurred in seven countries, were an embarrassment. His most recent heist, the theft of two early Henri Matisse paintings from the Musée d’Art de la Ville de Paris, had been only ten months earlier.
The thief liked to taunt Interpol about his accomplishments, often posting details about the crime in the weeks afterward. This time the thief had apparently taken a different tack. From an untraceable email account, someone claiming to be the Man with One Thousand Faces had posted his desire to own the Cleopatra necklace. The post appeared shortly after Lady Emily Haywood had foolishly bragged to the press that she would display it on this voyage.
Castle Lines had been aware of the threat when Devon contacted them. They quickly agreed to cooperate.
A non-social man, Devon dreaded the fact that he would be assigned to a table and have to make conversation with strangers, all of whom he was sure he would find intensely boring. But since Lady Haywood was only traveling as far as Southampton, that would be his final destination as well.
I’ve heard so much about the Cleopatra necklace, how perfectly matched the dazzling emeralds are and how breathtaking they are to behold. It would be interesting to see them close up, he thought.
His pretext for the trip, to share with his fellow passengers, was to scatter at sea the ashes of his mythical wife. A good cover story, he thought, one that would account for his wanting to spend periods of time alone.
It was nearly seven o’clock, the time when cocktails would be served in the exclusive Queen’s Lounge, reserved for only those passengers on the private deck.
10
Anna DeMille gasped as she opened the door of her suite. Her previous experience at sea had been a Disney cruise. The only celebrities on board had been Mickey, Minnie and Goofy. That trip had not been fun because it was filled with families with young children, and one time when she sat on a lounge chair on a deck she had come in contact with a piece of chewed bubble gum that stuck to her new slacks.
But this! This was heaven.
Her luggage had been unpacked. Her clothes were on hangers in the closet or stacked neatly in the drawers. Her toiletries were arranged in the bathroom. She was delighted that the shower was also a steam bath and resolved to try it first thing in the morning.
She went around the suite inspecting every single item. The headboard of the bed was tufted with a flowered print which picked up on the edgings of the white coverlet.
She sat and bounced on the bed. The semi-firm mattress was exactly what she liked, and she saw that it could be raised to a seated position if she wanted to watch TV in bed.
She opened the door, stepped out onto the balcony and was disappointed to see that it was entirely private from the ones on either side. She had hoped that talking back and forth to the neighboring balconies would be a way to make friends.