“And who is that?” Longworth asked.
“That’s Lady Emily Haywood,” Celia explained. “She is a bit imperious, but I can assure you she’s delightful company.” She watched as Lady Em was escorted to a vacant table by the window. “She must have reserved that one,” she said.
“Who are the people with her?” Longworth asked.
“I don’t know the other two, but the larger woman is Brenda Martin, Lady Em’s personal assistant.”
“Lady Em, as you call her, seems to be rather authoritative,” Longworth observed dryly, “but I don’t regret being at her table. It should be quite interesting.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will be,” Celia agreed.
“Miss Kilbride.” A waiter came up behind her. He was holding a phone in his hand. “A call for you,” he said as he handed it to her.
“A call for me,” Celia said, surprised. Don’t let it be Steven again, she prayed.
It was Randolph Knowles, the lawyer she had hired when she was contacted by the FBI to give a deposition. Why would he be calling? she asked herself.
“Hello, Randolph, is there a problem?”
“Celia, I have to give you a heads-up. Steven has given a long interview to People magazine. It will come out the day after tomorrow. He claims you knew he was defrauding your friends. They called me asking for a comment. I declined. The article states that you and Steven laughed together about it!”
Celia felt her body go cold. “Dear God, how could he?” she breathed.
“Try not to be too upset. Everyone knows he’s a congenital liar. My source in the U.S. Attorney’s Office told me you are not currently a person of interest, but it is possible they will ask the FBI to interview you again about some of the information in the article. No matter what happens I’m afraid there is going to be some nasty publicity. A strong argument in our favor is that you invested a quarter of a million dollars in his hedge fund.”
A quarter of a million dollars, the money her father had left her in his will. Every nickel she had.
“I’ll keep you posted.” He sounds worried, she thought. He’s only a few years out of law school. I wonder if it was a mistake to hire him. He may be in over his head.
“Thanks, Randolph.” She handed the phone to the waiter.
“Celia, you look troubled,” Longworth said. “Is there anything wrong?”
“Try everything,” Celia told him as the chimes indicated that dinner was being served.
12
Devon Michaelson was pleased to see that there was no available table in the Queen’s Lounge and went down to the Lido Bar for a gin martini. He saw two well-appointed couples at the bar who fortunately were deep in conversation. When the chimes sounded, he went down to the dining room.
As on the Titanic, the first-class passengers dined in ultimate style. It was a smaller version of the most exclusive dining room on the Titanic. Decorated in Jacobean style, painted in peanut-white, the furniture, chairs and tables were oak and designed to add luxury and comfort at all times. Specially mounted chandeliers gave a regal look to the room. Candle-style lamps adorned each table. Silk curtains framed the large bay windows. An orchestra was quietly playing from a raised platform. Fine linen tablecloths set the tone for Limoges china and sterling silver utensils.
Michaelson would soon be followed into the dining room by a couple he judged to be in their sixties. As the three of them sat down, he extended his hand and said, “Devon Michaelson.”
“Willy and Alvirah Meehan.” The name struck a chord in Devon’s memory. Where had he seen or heard of them? he asked himself. As they spoke, a second man came to the table. Tall, with dark hair, warm brown eyes and an easy smile, he took his place and introduced himself, “Ted Cavanaugh.” A moment later a fourth guest arrived. “Anna DeMille,” she announced in a loud voice. Devon judged her to be about fifty. She was very thin, with jet-black hair tapered to her chin, and fiercely black eyebrows, her smile wide and toothy.
“This is such an adventure,” she exclaimed. “I have never been on a fancy cruise like this before.”
Wide-eyed, Alvirah was looking around the dining room. “This is so beautiful,” she said. “We’ve been on cruises, but I’ve never seen anything this spectacular. To think that people traveled like this. It takes your breath away.”
“Honey, on the Titanic their breath was taken away. Most of the passengers drowned,” Willy commented.
“Well, that’s not going to happen to us,” Alvirah said firmly.
She turned to Ted Cavanaugh. “In the reception area I heard you say that your father is the retired ambassador to Egypt. I’ve always wanted to go there. Willy and I were at King Tut’s exhibit when it was in New York.”
“It is quite a remarkable sight, isn’t it?” Ted observed.
“I have always thought it a shame that so many of the tombs were looted,” Alvirah said.
“I absolutely could not agree more,” Ted replied emphatically.
“Did you see all the celebrities who are right here in this very room?” Anna DeMille asked. “I mean it’s like being on the red carpet ourselves. Isn’t it?”
No one answered as the first course was placed on the table. A generous heaping of Beluga caviar with sour cream on small triangles of toasted bread was served accompanied by tiny glasses of super-cold vodka.
After she dove into it, Anna turned her attention to Devon. “And what do you do?” she asked.
Devon’s cover identity was that he was a retired engineer living in Montreal. That was not enough for Anna.
“Are you traveling alone?” she asked inquisitively.
“Yes, I lost my wife to cancer.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. When did it happen?”
“A year ago. We were planning to take this trip together. I have brought the urn with her ashes to scatter into the Atlantic. It was her final request.”
That should block off any more cross-examination, he thought. But Anna was not yet satisfied.
“Oh, are you going to have a burial ceremony?” she asked. “I’ve read that people do that. If you want company, I’ll be happy to attend.”
“No, I want to do it myself,” he said as he moved his index finger under his eye to wipe away the beginning of a tear.
Oh, my God, he thought. There may be no getting rid of this woman.
Alvirah seemed to sense that he didn’t want any more personal questions.
“Oh, Anna, tell me all about winning the trip,” she said. “We won the jackpot in a lottery. That’s why we’re able to be here.”