Laura Marlin Mysteries 2: Kidnap in the Caribbean (11 page)

The security manager was a scrawny man so white he could have been sculpted from feta cheese. Fittingly, his name was Viktor Bland. As he talked, his bony fingers incessantly rearranged the few strands of black hair still remaining on his head.

He was eating a steak and kidney pie when Laura and Tariq came rushing in to report Calvin Redfern’s disappearance. Initially, he dismissed them out of hand, saying that if they made the smallest effort to search for him, they’d find him. When Laura explained that they’d searched for him for over two hours without success, he rolled his eyes.

He pulled a pad towards him with one corpse-like hand. The other scooped up another fork full of pie. ‘Name?’ he barked.

‘Laura Marlin.’

‘Your uncle’s name is Laura?’

Laura rolled her eyes in return. ‘No, that’s
my
name. My uncle’s name is Calvin Redfern.’

Viktor Bland stuffed the pie into his mouth and spluttered something indecipherable, spraying crumbs.

Laura leaned forward, thinking unkind thoughts about the man. ‘Excuse me?’

Viktor switched on a desk microphone. ‘Would passenger Calvin Redfern please come to the security office on Deck A. Your niece and her’ – he glowered at Tariq – ‘friend are waiting for you.’

He clicked off the microphone. ‘Happy now? Can I finish my lunch?’

Laura felt foolish for not thinking of the tannoy system sooner. It would have saved them hours. Any minute now her uncle would walk through the door, ruffle her hair and give her one of his slow, kind smiles. He’d say, ‘But I was sitting in the coffee shop all along. Didn’t you see me? I was at that back table tucked behind the bar.’

They’d work out that whenever they were up on deck, searching for him, he was down below searching for them and vice versa. They’d all laugh about it.

But Calvin Redfern didn’t show up. After forty uncomfortable minutes had passed, with Laura’s accusing gaze growing colder by the second, the security manager grudgingly agreed to have a couple of his guards search the ship.

‘If you are wasting my time now, in our busiest period, two hours before we dock in Antigua, I will not be answerable for the consequences,’ he ranted at Laura. ‘Your uncle might have to pay a large fine.’

‘A man has gone missing on a ship which you’re supposed to be keeping safe, and all you can think about is money,’ she said angrily. ‘You should be ashamed.’

He glared at her and issued veiled threats, but after that he took his job more seriously. Not that it helped. Calvin Redfern could not be found.

Laura began to feel hysterical. ‘This is insane. We’re on a cruise ship full of people enjoying themselves. How could this happen? Oh, it’s all my fault for leaving him alone.’

Tariq couldn’t bear to see her so upset. ‘Let’s search his cabin again. Maybe we’ve missed something.’

‘But we’ve already searched it three times.’

‘Matt Walker would do it again.’

She gave a weak smile. ‘Yes, he would.’

Perhaps because the cabin had been closed up for an hour or so, or perhaps because they were so determined to notice every detail, they immediately detected a change in the smell of the cabin. Along with the mint and lemon was a distinct smell of chocolate peanuts.

Laura’s blood ran cold. She remembered the day at the adventure centre and that innocent smell took on a new and potentially terrible meaning.

With renewed urgency they did what detectives call a ‘fingertip’ search, going over the cabin centimeter by centimeter on their hands and knees.

It was Laura who found the playing card. It was wedged between the bed and the wall, which was why they hadn’t seen it before and why even the cleaners had missed it. It fell out when Laura tugged back the mattress. She picked it up, took one look at the malevolent Joker on the front and burst into tears.

‘They’ve got him, Tariq. The Straight A gang have got him.’

‘KIDNAPPED?
BY AN INTERNATIONAL
criminal gang?’ Viktor Bland wanted to throw his head back and laugh, but a crowd was gathering, sensing a drama. ‘That’s the most preposterous suggestion I’ve ever heard. Not on the
Ocean Empress
and not on my watch. It may have escaped your notice, dear girl, but we’re in the middle of the ocean. Criminal gangs can’t exactly roar in, guns blazing, and snatch our passengers.’

He said this last bit for effect and smiled at his audience, like an actor waiting for applause.

Laura gave him a freezing stare. ‘It was the pirates who kidnapped him, I know it was.’

‘The pirates? Oh, you mean, the actors sent by the Tourist Board to welcome you to the Caribbean? They’ve been coming aboard the
Ocean Empress
for eight years now and we’ve never had a complaint. They’re a passenger favourite.’

‘If that’s the Caribbean’s idea of a welcome, I’d rather take my chances with the sharks,’ Laura retorted. ‘Two of them tried to stuff me into a laundry hamper.’

Viktor Bland noted with relief that the ship was approaching the harbour. With any luck he could soon hand the problem of Laura and her missing uncle over to the Antiguan authorities. No doubt the man had had too much sun or too many cocktails and fallen asleep in a cupboard or under the bar. It had happened before.

‘Are you listening?’ demanded Laura.

In his whole career, Viktor had never met such an aggravatingly persistent girl. The serious, silent Bengali boy who accompanied her was even worse. He had clear, tiger’s eyes that saw everything and missed nothing. It was very disconcerting.

‘Miss Marlin, I appreciate that you’re distressed and admittedly it’s perplexing that your uncle has not yet come to light, especially since we’re coming into port. But unless he’s fallen overboard, or indeed jumped, and I can assure you we have people who watch very carefully for that sort of thing …’

‘Laura! Tariq!’ cried Rita Gannet, tottering over on high heels with Bob in her wake. ‘There you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you. We’ve been on the top deck watching Antigua grow bigger and bigger. What a sight it is! Sand as white as snow and palms waving in the breeze.’

‘Now is not the best time, Mr and Mrs Gannet,’ said Tariq, attempting to steer the couple away. ‘We’re dealing with a crisis.’

‘Laura! Tariq! What’s going on? I’ve just heard that your uncle’s gone missing.’ Jimmy came running up, flushed with effort. His T-shirt looked as if it had had a fight with a cheeseburger and lost, and there were wisps of candyfloss in his hair. ‘Where is he? What can I do to help?’

‘I’M TELLING YOU FOR THE TENTH TIME, MY UNCLE HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED BY PIRATES,’ Laura shouted at Viktor Bland.

‘Kidnapped!’ echoed a burly woman in a pink stetson, and the cry went out across the ship like an echo chamber:

‘By
pirates
?’ Jimmy said in awe.

’You mean, those phonies we saw earlier? What’s the world coming to?’ demanded a woman with a skunk-inspired hairstyle.

‘KIDNAPPED! Who’s been kidnapped?’

‘I heard it was her uncle,’ said the cowgirl.

‘What’s this about Laura and Tariq’s uncle going missing?’ demanded a woman with a turkey neck, bent under the weight of her gold jewellery. ‘That’s all they need. They’re adopted, poor loves. Heartbreaking past they had in the Chillwood Institution for Unwanted Children. Before they were rescued by Calvin Redfern, a handsome fisheries investigator, they ate squirrels to survive.’

‘Hang on a minute. They told us they were child geniuses who’d won a trip to the Caribbean in a Mensa quiz,’ protested a man in a safari suit, who resembled a mad butterfly collector.

‘And I believed them when they said they were junior athletes on their way to the Antiguan long jump championships,’ a teenage girl put in bitterly.

‘Laura! Tariq! What is the meaning of this?’ roared Bob Gannet. ‘Is this true? Have you told lies to everyone on the ship?’

‘A very good question, sir,’ said Viktor Bland, furiously rearranging his hair across his baldpate. He turned on the children. ‘Is this whole story about a missing uncle nothing more than a fairytale concocted between you?’

‘NO!’ they shouted together.

‘Laura and Tariq never lie,’ said Jimmy, bravely positioning himself between his friends and their accusers. ‘This whole situation is my fault. I asked them to play a game where we all pretended to be someone we’re not. We wanted to practise being undercover detectives. We were planning to tell everyone the truth, but then this happened.’

‘Please believe us,’ Laura said desperately. ‘My uncle has been snatched by the Straight A gang, one of the deadliest crime syndicates on earth. My guess is they shoved him in that Treasure Chest with the false back. They do that sort of thing all the time. Once they used a pizza boy disguise to kidnap … Oh, it’s a long story. We’ll explain later, but right now we need to call the police and find my uncle. Every second counts.’

‘There is a simple way to solve this,’ the butterfly man said silkily, ‘and that’s to answer one simple question. Has anyone seen this elusive uncle? If they have, then he exists. If nobody has caught so much of a glimpse of him then it seems to me we must assume that he doesn’t.’

‘That’s not fair,’ protested Laura. ‘Minutes after he boarded the
Ocean Empress
, he fell down some stairs and sprained both ankles and he’s been confined to the cabin ever since. Nobody has seen him except Tariq and I. Oh, and the room service waiter.’

‘Which room service waiter?’ asked the woman in the Stetson. ‘Luigi? Andre?’

‘I don’t know,’ confessed Laura. ‘We never saw him or her.’

‘I’m the ship doctor,’ said a silver-haired man stepping forward, ‘and this is the first I’ve heard of a passenger with two sprained ankles.’

‘What about you, Jimmy?’ demanded Bob. ‘You’ve seen a lot of Tariq and Laura this week. Have you seen the famous uncle?’

Jimmy went red to the roots of his wild hair. ‘No, I haven’t, but that doesn’t mean anything. I believe them. They’re my friends.’

‘Not even their closest friend has laid eyes on this mythical uncle,’ crowed Viktor Bland. ‘It’s all lies. One lie after another. They’re stowaways plain and simple.’

‘Oh, my goodness,’ sighed Rita.

Overhead the sky glowed pink with the setting sun. The ship had shuddered to a stop. Streams of passengers were pouring out onto the harbour and Laura could feel the humid warmth of Antigua rising up to envelop her.

A voice she didn’t recognise said: ‘The police? We’ll happily call the police. They love it when we hand over stowaways.’

She turned to see the captain towering over them in immaculate whites. Two beefy guards flanked him, their biceps straining at their shirtsleeves.

Tariq murmured in Laura’s ear: ‘This could be bad.’

The woman in the stetson repeated: ‘
Stowaways
? On the
Ocean Empress
?’

‘In this day and age?’ The skunk woman was scandalised.

‘I’m afraid so, ma’am,’ said the captain. ‘You see, we’ve searched our passenger list extensively. Not only can we can find no record of a Calvin Redfern on the ship, there is not one word about a Tariq Miah or a Laura Marlin either. As far as the
Ocean Empress
is concerned, you don’t exist.’

‘But that’s impossible!’ cried Laura. ‘I won a competition. We have proof.’

The crowd began to buzz like angry bees.

‘By some cunning method, you’ve taken advantage of our ship’s hospitality for many days by stowing away in an empty cabin,’ the captain went on. ‘What’s worse, I hear that you had yet another partner in crime. Fernando, bring out the evidence!’

‘Aye, aye, Captain,’ said Fernando, emerging from the throng with Skye.

Tariq rushed to take the husky from him, giving the waiter an apologetic look as he did so. ‘Thank you for your help with Skye and for rescuing Laura from the pirates. We’re very grateful to you.’

‘It’s not gratitude we want,’ the captain cut in sourly. ‘It’s the many thousands of dollars you owe us for your berth on this ship.’

‘It’s true that we’ve made up a few stories and had a bit of fun during the week,’ Laura said, ‘but I’m begging you to believe us now. My uncle and I won the cruise in a raffle. Your records must show that somewhere. How else would we have got boarding passes?’