“Yes, sir! Right away, sir!”
“Fine. Get on it.” Skip hung up and turned back to Lieutenant King. “Now you. I was shot in Lieutenant Brice’s stateroom. Perhaps you know that. I want access to that stateroom and to Brice, and I want it now. If I don’t get it, that will go into my suit, too.”
Lieutenant King backed away. “I need to talk to the captain.”
“You certainly do.” Skip went to the door of Brice’s cabin and knocked. When Brice opened, Skip said, “You need to talk to me, and I’d like to talk to you. If we talk, I may not file a suit for alienation of affection; but if we don’t, I most certainly will. May I come in?”
Brice nodded, still blocking the doorway. “You’ve been wounded, too, I see. Hit on the head?”
“Yes, by a bullet. I was standing right where you’re standing now. I don’t like threatening you, but I want to come in, have a look around, and ask a few questions.”
Brice stood aside. “Come in and sit down, sir.”
Skip did, taking the only armchair.
Gingerly, Brice lowered himself to the sofa. “Fire away.”
“First—you must know there was a shooting in here.”
“Right.” Brice’s grin was small but real. “You guys left a mess.”
“I’m sure we did. Do you know who was involved?”
“No, I don’t. Only I think a blonde I saw at the infirmary was. I don’t know her name, but I saw her brought in before I left.”
Skip nodded. “Short and a little plump? About thirty-five?”
“That’s her. From the look of my stateroom, she’d done a lot of bleeding.”
“Some of that was mine.” Skip drew a deep breath. “I passed out twice, Lieutenant; but I think the woman you saw must have been my secretary, Susan Clerkin. I ought to go down and see her.”
“I’m sorry she got hurt, sir.”
“So am I. Where was the blood?”
“On the rug in this room, and in the bathroom. The bathroom was a mess.”
“You cleaned it up?”
Brice shook his head. “I got our steward on it, and he brought in some maids.”
“What was found in the room? Besides the blood?”
“You’d like to make your suit stronger. I’m not going to help you with it.”
“No. I’m trying to find out what happened and why. A man named Rick Johnson was killed in here.”
“I didn’t know him. Listen, I don’t want a drink—I’ll be on duty in a couple of hours. But if you’d like something…?”
“Thank you. A sandwich and a glass of iced coffee.”
“I’ll join you. What kind of sandwich?”
“Any kind,” Skip said.
Brice picked up the telephone and ordered.
“I’m Chelle’s contracto. You know that.”
“Right.” Brice’s eyes were guarded, his nod almost imperceptible.
“When I came into our bedroom not so long ago, you were in bed with her. You grabbed your clothes and dashed out, vaulting over the rail of our veranda. I don’t know what you did after that, and to be honest I don’t care.”
“Then let’s not talk about it.”
“Earlier that evening, you had given Chelle a card for this stateroom. That’s the important point. Do you deny it?”
“I don’t, sir. I don’t, but you’ve got it wrong. Can I tell you the whole thing from my end?”
Skip nodded. “I wish you would.”
“Fine. There was a party for vets. I came off duty and decided to put on civvies, drop in, and see if there was anybody I knew. There was, and he bought me a drink. That meant I had to buy him one, so I hung around and talked. Somebody introduced me to Chelle, and she and I hit it off. Maybe it was just because I’m taller than she is. There aren’t a lot of guys who are.”
“Including me,” Skip said.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Well, anyway, she said it was getting too noisy, how about going to her stateroom? I jumped at it. I didn’t know she was contracted then. I hadn’t asked and she didn’t tell me. Do you want to hear what we did in bed? There wasn’t anything very freaky.”
“I think it would be better if I didn’t know.”
“I’ve got it, sir.” Brice pushed his chair back; the distance might have been three centimeters. “It would hit you hard. I can see that.”
“Go on, please.”
“I just wanted to say she was good—”
Skip’s phone vibrated. He answered it with alacrity.
“Mr. Grison? This is Lana. Remember me? The bar on E Deck?” The tiny screen showed him a tired blonde.
“Yes. Certainly.”
“If you’re still lookin’ for the guy with the hooks, he just came in. He’s with three other guys.”
“Can you talk to him privately?”
“Sure. I’ll just get him to come over to the bar for a minute. They’re at a table.”
“Then tell him I was looking for him. Tell him I want information and I may have a job for him.”
“Got it. Will do.”
Skip hung up. “When will we make port? Your professional opinion.”
“If the weather cooperates, it could be as early as tomorrow.” Brice paused. “The old man’s anxious to get there, and I don’t blame him. We’ve got forty-three hijackers locked up, some on K Deck and some in the hold. If we can’t do it tomorrow, probably Monday. It could be later, but I doubt it.”
“Thanks. You must have known that Chelle and I were contracted, since you ran when I came in.”
“I didn’t,” Brice said. “Would I have gone up to your stateroom if I had? I don’t know. Probably I would have.”
Skip nodded.
“She said she had a boyfriend. Okay, but those doors lock every time they close, and I thought she meant some guy who didn’t have a card. You came in after that. I figured you’d take a punch at me, and I knew that if I got mixed up in a fight—that kind of fight—I could kiss my job goodbye. So I beat it.”
For a moment, Brice hesitated. “I’ve done that sort of thing before, sir, only it wasn’t your Chelle. This was another passenger on the last cruise.”
“Are you saying you didn’t give Chelle your cabin card?”
“No, sir. I did, but it was the next day. I ran into her—I was out on deck where they’d fouled a halyard, and she came over to watch. So we talked for a minute or two, and I slipped her my spare card. Some girls really go for that, sir. They like being up here with an officer.”
“Mostly tourist-class girls, I would imagine.”
Brice shook his head. “I try to stay away from those.”
“You must know who was in this room when the shooting occurred.”
“No, sir. I was still in the infirmary.”
“Someone must have told you,” Skip insisted.
“No, sir. Nobody did, and I haven’t asked. I still feel pretty rocky. Weak, you know. That’s been on my mind a lot more than what happened up here.”
“I could name almost everyone who was in here when I regained consciousness, although I’m more interested in someone who wasn’t. Most of all, I’m interested in the one person I didn’t already know. If you can tell me who he is, I’ll be grateful. Extremely grateful.”
Brice shook his head. “I don’t know who any of them were, sir, except for you. You said you were here, that you were shot in here.”
“I was. This man is elderly. His hair is white. He wears glasses. He has a white mustache and a pointed beard long enough to cover the knot in his tie. They’re neatly trimmed. He’s thin, and a good ten centimeters taller than most men—about your height or a trifle more. He walks with a blackthorn stick and smokes a corncob.”