Death on Tour (20 page)
“You’re running from the mob?”
“What? No! I’m a divorce lawyer, for Christ’s sake. I don’t launder money or organize hits or whatever. Jesus!”
I gave an apologetic shrug.
“No, the stupid thing I did was turn in Kathy’s mother for tax evasion,” he said glumly.
“What?”
“Yeah, I know. Not too bright. She’s going to find out it was me, and even if she doesn’t, she’ll know it was me anyway. I’ve got some contacts, and I found out the shit was going to hit the fan this week, so I decided that leaving the country would be a good idea.”
“You don’t think Kathy’s going to be furious when she finds out? You think this trip will make up for it?” I asked.
“Oh, she’ll be pissed all right. I can hear the ranting now. ‘I’ll never forgive you, Daddy. I’m never going to speak to you again, Daddy,’” he squeaked in a surprisingly accurate falsetto, then returned to his normal tone. “I should be so lucky. She’ll be talking again as soon as she needs some money. I’m loaded. And she still has another year of college and then law school to get through. So I have a little leverage,” he added cynically.
“Then why the trip?”
He sighed. “Postponing the inevitable mostly. Plus, it might get me some points with her. It’s something she always wanted to do. See Egypt, I mean. This second-rate excursion was the only one I could find that started at the right time.” He drained the rest of his scotch. “I don’t exactly connect with her in daily life, if you know what I mean. And it does have the advantage of having us out of communication with the rest of the world. Very unlikely that she’ll make the effort it would take to call home.”
“But you were upset when you found out we didn’t have Internet access.” I didn’t tell him how I knew it.
He didn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, but that’s because I’m watching my stocks. I’ve got a few tricky investments going. I’ve got a broker who has his instructions, but you don’t get to where I am by trusting people.” He looked across the room to where Lydia and Ben were now swinging potatoes and laughing.
“Look at those idiots. Smoking all the time. Don’t even care that it’s killing them and stinking up everything around them. And you know what? Every time I get a whiff, it just about kills me I want one so bad. Even after ten years.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I finally asked.
He shrugged. “I figured you thought I was an asshole.”
I considered. “And so you thought that telling me you hate tours and the people who take tours and that you’re only here to bribe your daughter not to hate you because you ratted her mother out to the IRS for petty revenge would change my mind on that?”
“Exactly. Well, and to point out it was my patriotic duty to turn her in. I had to.”
I started laughing. Across the room, the potato game was coming to an end and our group was splitting up, some leaving to go their rooms, a few returning to the bar or to our seats in the horseshoe. A disk jockey arrived and began setting up in the jumble of electronics behind the bar.
Jerry held up his empty glass. “Look at that. There must be a hole in the bottom of my glass. And in yours too.” He took my empty bottle from my hand. “Can I buy you another?”
“They’re free,” I pointed out dryly. “But sure.” And was rewarded with an unexpectedly sweet smile. Too bad he was so slimy that he practically left a shiny trail behind him.
He returned with the drinks just as the music was starting up. Handing me my beer, he said, “I don’t dance. In case you were wanting to.”
“Nope. Besides, you’re old enough to be my father,” I responded. “I wouldn’t want you to break a hip.”
“Ow! That was cold. And untrue. Very untrue. Maybe I will dance. Do you want to dance?”
“No, thank you. I don’t dance with geezers.”
Half-amused, half-annoyed, he was just opening his mouth to protest when Charlie de Vance tottered over. He was looking particularly snappy in red suspenders and a matching red bow tie.
“Dance, missy? My wife lets me loose on the single ladies before she’ll dance with me, and I can’t pass up a chance like that, now can I?”
“Yes, I’d love to,” I said instantly. I turned to Jerry. “Here, hold my beer, will you? And don’t spit in it.”
Charlie looked a little shocked and kept glancing back at Jerry as he led me to the floor. “You don’t think he would really spit in it, do you?”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” I reassured him. “But I’d just told him I didn’t dance with older men.” He looked at me enquiringly, and I added, “I didn’t say anything about older gentlemen.”
He laughed at that. “You’re a smart one.”
We began swaying back and forth to the music. He held me very stiffly and correctly at arm’s length, and I saw Yvonne wink at me as we slowly crept by.
“Now be honest, Charlie,” I said. “Did you want to dance or were you performing a social rescue?”
He grinned sheepishly up at me. “Bit of both maybe. But it’s no chore on my part.”
As the song ended, he led me to where Yvonne waited, and I sat beside her.
“I’ll get your drink back, shall I?” asked Charlie, and slipped away.
Yvonne patted my hand. “Dreadful interference on my part. But I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to talk to that man for as long as you did. Besides he had the look of someone on the verge of drunkenness. I definitely noticed him swaying.”
“It was very nice of you. And Charlie.”
“Yes, Charlie’s very special.” Her expression softened a moment, but then she tapped my arm smartly. “So, did you find out anything of interest?” she said with a gleam in her eye.
I suddenly had the feeling that, without knowing it, I’d become her own personal private detective. Or her pawn. I wasn’t sure I liked how easily she had manipulated me, but I had to give her credit for intelligence and determination.
“I know what he told me,” I said slowly. “It sounded true, but that doesn’t make it true.”
She nodded. “Good. The minute you realize that anyone could be lying, you have an edge.”
“He said this trip is a bribe to his daughter to make up for something unpleasant he did or is doing to her mother.”
“And you believed him?”
“I did. It was pretty unflattering to himself. He had no reason to lie about it. It doesn’t mean it’s his only reason for being here, but it rang true.”
“Well, we’ll keep him in mind, but I think we can safely move him to the back burner.” She clicked her tongue. “And he was my best suspect, too. It’s always easy to believe the worst about the unpleasant ones, isn’t it? So, we move on. What about your Mr. Stratton?”
“Alan?” I asked uneasily. Her question made me realize how much I didn’t want to suspect him.
Her expression told me she knew what I was thinking. So much for the fabled ice princess look that Jerry seemed to think I had. “There’s certainly more to him than meets the eye. A single man, alone on a trip like this, especially at his age. Have you noticed how he manages to talk with everyone and yet not really join any group?”
I had noticed, but I hadn’t thought much about it. Even now I could see him in conversation with DJ and Nimmi. DJ was leaning forward eagerly, moving his hands as he talked. Beside him, Nimmi sat upright, fastidious and delicate, like a little cat next to a Saint Bernard.
We sat in silence for a moment.
“I wish I knew what was going on,” I said finally. “But I don’t know what I can do about it.”
She gave the smallest of shrugs. “Murder is the business of every human being. We all can and should do whatever is possible. For you and me, that might be just the smallest task of keeping our ears open.” She smiled and patted my hand. “Find out what you can, but don’t let it spoil your trip. And now, I see Charlie coming this way. I’d prefer not to speak about this in front of him. It upsets him.”
“Of course. He’s a very thoughtful man.”
“Do you know, I’ve been in love with him since high school?”
“You missed a lot of time together.”
“Not wasted time, though. We each had lovely lives. And I doubt we would have been good for each other any earlier. I was too driven. But it’s very good to be together at the end.”
Charlie returned with the drinks, glancing over his shoulder to where Jerry was trying to talk to Kyla. She looked like she was smelling something bad. Charlie said, “I got you a fresh beer. No sense in taking chances.”
Travel through the desert wasteland to the Valley of the Kings, final resting place of the pharaohs of Egypt. Here you will walk the dry white hills and descend deep into the mysteries hidden for countless ages beneath the desert floor. Visit the famous tomb of the boy king Tutankhamen and see the final resting place of Thutmose III. Then on to the Valley of the Queens where the royal wives and children were buried. After lunch, visit the world famous alabaster shop and finish your day at Deir el-Bahari, the enduring temple of Queen Hatshepsut, the only queen to claim the title of pharaoh in Egypt’s long history.
—WorldPal pamphlet
I stopped at the front desk the first thing in the morning. We were now docked at Luxor, our final destination. A few people loitered in the lobby, waiting for the bell that signaled breakfast. Fiona and Flora stood nearby, peering through the doorway into the next cruise liner and whispering together. I took a quick peek between their fuzzy little heads to see what was so interesting, but didn’t notice anything except another gold and crystal lobby. The
Nile Lotus
was the closest tour boat to the shore, indication that we weren’t going anywhere that day.
I turned to the desk clerk.
“Good morning, madam,” she said in perfect English. “May I help you?”
“Yes, the safe in my room isn’t working. It isn’t staying closed, and I’d like to leave some things in it.”
“I am so sorry, madam. We will repair it as soon as possible. What is your room number, please?”
“211. Is there any way it could be fixed before eight-thirty? That’s when we’re leaving.”
“I will ask, but our handyman does not come on duty until that time. I am very sorry.”
I nodded. The breakfast bell rang and people began streaming down the steps. Kyla appeared, wearing white linen pants with a lime sleeveless shell and matching lime flats. White linen. Pressed. She’d sent a sack of things to the ship’s laundry service the day we arrived on board, but I hadn’t seen what was in it. Her hair was pulled into an elegant twist, fastened with a silver filigreed clasp. I glanced down at my jeans, sneakers, and oversized oxford shirt. Another day of Beauty and the Frump. Pointless to get angry.
She joined me. “Can they fix it?”
“Unlikely. She said they’d try, but I don’t think there will be time before we leave.”
“Well, be sure to take your passport with you. And the plane tickets. Oh, and that necklace. I don’t care what you say, I know that thing is worth a fortune. And what about your iPod?”
“Yes, Mom,” I said sarcastically, pausing to let Fiona and Flora precede us down the steps. Never get between two old ladies and their chow was my motto. Besides, this way if they fell, they wouldn’t take me down with them.
At breakfast time, the dining room was brighter and less formal. The buffet was set up at one side of the room, loaded with an amazing variety of fruits, cereals, rolls, and pastries. Steaming silver serving dishes contained eggs, sausages, bacon, and oatmeal. Once again, a chef stood behind a set of gas burners, ready to cook an omelet to order. Several people waited in line in front of giant silver urns of coffee and hot water, looking sleepy. The room was filled with the sound of voices and the clinking of flatware on china.
I started to limit myself to a couple of crusty rolls, then changed my mind and loaded up with a little bit of everything. Screw my weight, I thought, I’m on vacation. I balanced a glass of juice on one unoccupied inch of space on the rim of my plate and joined the group at one of our three tables. DJ, Nimmi, Keith, and Dawn were already well into breakfast and greeted us enthusiastically. Ben and Lydia were finished and still sipping coffee. To my surprise, their niece, Jane, was present, listlessly picking apart a roll. She looked miserable.
Kyla took the seat beside me and set her plate down. It contained a single croissant and piece of pineapple. I took a sip of my juice and then started in on my cheese and bacon omelet. It was marvelous. Kyla cast a disapproving eye over my breakfast, half disdainful, half jealous. I needed a distraction before she could start in on its nutritional value.
“Are you going to come with us today?” I asked brightly, turning to Jane, who was sitting to my right.
Instead of answering, Jane shot a nervous look at Lydia, who pursed her lips thoughtfully.
“You know, there’s no reason you shouldn’t. It might do you good to get off the ship,” Lydia said.
Was it my imagination, or did Jane give a little shiver? It might just have been the illness, but she looked almost frightened. Why should she be scared to get on a tour bus, escorted by a tour guide, tour group, and armed guard, to visit the Valley of the Kings, one of the most public and busy tourist destinations in the world?
“I just don’t feel up to it,” she said finally. “I think I’ll just stay here and read. I can go on the deck and get some fresh air if I feel like it later.”
“It’s a shame that you’ve missed so much of the trip,” said Nimmi sympathetically. “Perhaps you should let DJ take a look at you. He is a very good doctor. Very good. And he would not mind at all.”
Nimmi was busy cutting up several sausages as she spoke, and it looked as though she had already put away a pile of scrambled eggs and a cup of oatmeal. How in the world did she stay so tiny? Just then, DJ reached his fork and speared three or four pieces from her plate and popped them into his mouth. Ah.
“Yes, I would be happy to review your medicines. What are they giving you? Antibiotics? Those might be making you feel bad, you know,” he said.
“That’s very nice of you,” said Jane, “but really, I’m fine. Just a little weak still. I’m sure I’ll be able to go out tomorrow. The doctors said to expect I’d be tired.”
