“This shouldn’t take long, Mrs. Sullivan,” the man in a starched white uniform said.
“Call me Molly…and you are?”
“The first mate.”
“Should I call you Adam and warn you to check for an umbilicus if a young woman offers you an apple pan dowdy or some other fruity concoction from the forbidden dessert tray?”
“What?”
“I thought I’d try a subtle way to ask you what your name is—not just your job title which you freely gave me—but apparently it didn’t work. I used an Old Testament reference because, if my cut-rate travel agent is to be believed, we’re on the next best thing to a Paradise cruise. I have to admit the sweet course food reference was a totally gratuitous remark. Sorry about that, but I couldn’t help noticing your jacket is so snug fitting I’m surprised you haven’t popped more than the one button that’s already missing.”
“They told me you’re observant.”
“Who did?”
“My old buddies at the 27th Precinct.”
“What else did they tell you?”
“That you’re no stranger to sailing.”
“In those exact words?” Molly asked.
“No. I think it was more along the lines of a comment that you know your way around a ketch.”
“You talked to Detective Ross, didn’t you?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“I’ll wager he said kvetch, meaning complaint, but that’s a whole other story. Let’s get back to you. Can you please tell me what name appears on your police department pension record?”
“They told me you’re persistent, too, so I suppose I’d better answer your question. Patrick J. O’Reilly. You can call me Pat.”
“Okay, Pat, perhaps you can also tell me why a tightlipped steward escorted me here to your office.”
“Scuttlebutt.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“Ship’s gossip, Molly. A passenger had her hearing aid cranked up really high yesterday and she happened to overhear part of a conversation at your table last night.”
“So?”
“She suspects you’re a terrorist and I must say she laid out a rather strong case. Why were you discussing Molotov cocktails with the couple that shared your table?”
“I can assure you that particular topic never came up,” Molly said without hesitation. “I think I know what caused your informant’s confusion, though. The Goldsteins were celebrating their golden wedding anniversary and I offered them a traditional toast.”
“What did you say?”
“Mazel tov!”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ve heard it translated as ‘good luck,’ but I think there are additional layers of meaning to the phrase. I took the easy way out and added the word ‘congratulations’ to my toast so the diners seated nearby would feel comfortable in drinking to the health and happiness of the couple.”
“That’s a more than satisfactory explanation,” Pat said. “It was a simple misunderstanding on the part of the witness. I’m glad that’s out of the way, although personally I didn’t doubt you for a minute. One question, though. Why didn’t you just stick to English entirely?”
“It’s a matter of cultural respect. For example, I’d have been pleased as punch if you’d started our conversation by saying, ‘Céad míle fáilte.’”
“Say what?”
“‘A hundred thousand welcomes.’ I’m easily pleased. I’d have been content if you’d said ‘top of the morning’ and left out the other ninety-nine thousand nine-hundred and ninety-nine greetings.”
“I apologize for my abruptness. Maybe it isn’t too late to start over.”
Pat paused to take a deep breath.
“Top of the morning to you, Molly,” he said with a slight hint of an Irish brogue.
“And a fine rest of the day to you, Pat. Now, what can I do for you?”
“What?”
“You’re stalling for some reason. Could it be you’re reluctant to follow the orders you’ve been given?”
Pat leaned forward and lowered his voice.
“Why do you say that?”
Molly tilted her head in turn and whispered her answer.
“Some law enforcement professionals don’t like dealing with amateurs, no matter how talented they are, or how useful they may prove to be on occasion. In this instance, you might have done a background check on me because of a passenger’s outlandish claim that I was conspiring to firebomb the ship, but once you’d concluded your initial inquiry, which I’m confident cleared me of any suspicion in that department, there would have been no legitimate reason for you to talk to me in person, yet here I am.”
“They told me you’re intuitive and I’m inclined to believe they were right once again.”
“Humor me, Pat. Cut the malarkey. Throw me the steaming pratie.”
“Do what?”
“You’re obviously dealing with a hot-potato issue. Maybe tossing some ideas back and forth will provide you with some clarity. Before we can start brainstorming, however, you need to spill the beans. Or, since we’re at sea, maybe you’d prefer the expression: fish or cut bait. In other words, tell me what it is the captain wants you to have me do.”
“Captain Swenson wants your help in catching a thief.”
“Good luck with that. You have a boatload of potential suspects. Do you have any clues?”
“Not really, but we have the word of a highly credible witness. He was the first victim.”
“Tell me more.”
“His name is Sean McGuinness. He’s an Irish policeman. He told me whenever people needed emergency help in his hometown, they called the Gardas.”
“Gardai,” Molly said without thinking.
“No, he’s a Garda. Surely that means he’s a guarder, not a guardee.”
“Yet, you say he told you that people in trouble call the Gardas. Are you sure about that?”
“Positive,” Pat said. With some effort, because of his tightfitting uniform, he pulled a notebook out of a back pocket of his trousers. He flipped through the pages.
“I’ve taken a jillion statements in my time and I pride myself on getting the wording exactly right. Here it is. G-A-R-D-A-S.”
“If you heard and recorded the word correctly, you’ve presented us with a dilemma. The plural of Garda, meaning guard or guardian, is G-A-R-D-A-I, and it’s pronounced gar-DEE.”
“So, if I was right and you’re right, then that means…” Pat’s voice trailed off. Molly finished the sentence for him, “… he’s a phony. Did Sean show you a badge?”
“No. He doesn’t carry one anymore. He’s retired.”
“What about you, Pat? If for no other reason than to avoid getting parking tickets, you probably have some form of identification on you proving you’re a former policeman.”
“You’re right, but this isn’t about me,” Pat said.
“Don’t be too sure about that. Sean may have assumed the persona of a lawman in order to get you to extend some professional courtesies to him.”
“Like what? He’s not going to get a speeding ticket that needs fixing while he’s onboard.”
Molly dismissed Pat’s objection with a wave of her hand.
“You said Sean was a victim. What was stolen?”
“His watch. A very expensive wristwatch.”
“While he was wearing it?”
“No, he’d left it in his stateroom. He said he didn’t like being on the clock. Is that important?”
“I think it might be. What about the other victims?”
“Basically, they all had the same story. Their valuables disappeared from their cabins while they were out.”
“Just out and about, or out somewhere in particular?” Molly asked.
“More often than not they were having a meal.”
“You could eat twenty-four hours a day on this ship if you wanted to. Can you be a little more specific?”
“With very few exceptions, the thefts occurred during the conventional time for an evening meal.”
“What went missing? Watches, cufflinks, that sort of thing?”
“No, women’s jewelry.”
Molly was quiet.
Pat tolerated the silence for several heartbeats before asking, “What are you doing?”
“I’m thinking,” Molly said.
“About what?”
“About how we should proceed. I suspect that as soon as you question his credentials, you’ll be able to persuade the bogus cop to drop any claims he may have against the cruise line.”
“So far, Sean hasn’t made any demands. Real cop or not, I’m inclined to believe he’s more interested in catching the thief than he is in receiving compensation for his loss.”
“In that case, I think we should accommodate his wishes.”
“How do you propose to do that?”
“I have some ideas,” Molly said. “Do you think the captain will help me implement them?”
Pat hesitated before answering. “I’m pretty sure he will, considering it was his idea to bring you onboard, so to speak.”
The retired policeman did not sound particularly pleased by the prospect of Molly’s active involvement in the ongoing investigation.
***
That evening Molly shared a meal with five other diners. Seated to her left were Abe and Miriam Goldstein, both of whom she’d privately briefed on the intricate details of her plan to expose the suspected jewel thief. The golden couple had agreed to cooperate fully.
“We’ll play along with whatever scheme you come up with,” Abe had assured her. “No matter how meshugge it may seem.”
Sean McGuinness sat directly across the table from Molly, and to his right was a young couple on their honeymoon. After informal introductions were exchanged, the newlyweds were too self-absorbed to join in the general conversation.
Sean pulled a pair of bulky, horn-rimmed glasses out of his shirt pocket and put them on.
Molly met his gaze and raised her eyebrows.
“I’m a visual person,” he said. “I like to see what I’m eating. Sometimes the presentation of food is just as important as the taste.”
“You won’t get any argument from me,” Molly said. She tapped the right stem of her own stylish glasses with the tip of her index finger. “Do I detect a trace of an accent in your voice, Sean? It’s charming, but I can’t seem to place it.”
“I’m from Ireland,” he said.
“I should have guessed. I haven’t yet had the pleasure of visiting the Emerald Isle, but that doesn’t prevent me from saying Erin go bragh.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Sean said.
“We will, too,” Miriam chimed in, as she picked up her wine glass with one hand and gently poked her husband in the ribs with the other.
“What are we drinking to?” Abe asked.
“Ireland forever,” Molly said. “Isn’t that right, Sean?”
“Close enough,” he agreed.
The lovebirds, drinking only with their eyes, remained geographically neutral during the toast.
After either sipping or draining their glasses, the other diners commenced their meal in earnest.
“I imagine you sometimes miss rambling down the old boreen in the old country,” Molly said between bites.
Sean stopped shoveling food into his mouth long enough to answer.
“Not me. I had more than my fair share of pounding pavements when I was a member of the Garda. That’s the Irish police force, in case you wondered. Being at sea is a welcome change of pace.”
He resumed eating, but his eyes darted around the table. Molly concluded he was keeping a close watch on her and her dinner companions.
Molly turned her attention to the Goldsteins.
“I notice you’re not wearing your anniversary gift tonight, Miriam.”
Miriam’s right hand automatically went up to her bare neck.
“That marvelous necklace is too precious for everyday wear, but I’ll certainly put it on if Abe and I are ever invited to sit at the captain’s table.”
Molly watched Sean’s reaction. He paused in mid-chew and seemed to hang on every word Miriam said.
After the meal was over, Molly accompanied the Goldsteins back to their cabin.
On the way, Miriam had a question, “What exactly is a boreen?”
“A cow path,” Molly said. “I was quoting a line from an Irish song ‘The Old Boreen,’ but it seems Sean badly misinterpreted the reference.”
“Ah. Our erstwhile dinner companion is not what he pretends to be then, but is he a thief?”
“The necklace was safe from him for tonight anyway,” Abe said. “We can all bear witness to that.”
“Can we?” Molly asked. “What if he has an accomplice?”
Without uttering another word, the trio spontaneously quickened their pace.
***
Although the cozy cabin showed no obvious signs of disturbance, the Goldsteins soon discovered that Miriam’s anniversary present was not in the jewel box where she’d left it. A thorough search of the premises confirmed that the necklace was nowhere to be found.
Miriam couldn’t keep a trace of excitement out of her voice when she spoke.
“Apparently, you were right, Molly. What do we do now?”
“We do nothing for the time being. You should report the loss of your necklace to Mr. O’Reilly, of course, but after that you’d best stay on the sidelines where the two of you ought to be safe from further aggravation.”
“What about you, Molly?” Abe asked, as he lightly placed his hand on her arm. “Will you be safe?”
“I don’t see why not. I’ve been in dangerous situations before, and I’m accustomed to looking out for myself. Besides, this time my involvement is clandestine.”
***
At the next meeting of the improvised investigative team, the first mate had an important announcement.
“Good news, Molly,” he said without preamble. “There’s been a significant development in the case. A highly distinctive pair of antique ruby earrings has disappeared—presumably stolen. There’s nothing generic about them. The set is one of a kind; easily identifiable. Find the earrings; we find the thieves.”
“That sounds almost too good to be true, Pat. Except for Sean’s wristwatch, all of the items that were taken previously were conventional in design and could easily be fenced. Have you asked yourself why an experienced gang of jewel thieves would risk discovery by suddenly changing their tried and proven modus operandi?”
“No… I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“I am,” Molly said. “Equine teeth can be very revealing. If you happen to have an anal retentive personality, you might also want to check the other end of the animal for hemorrhoids.”
“That’s gross and irrelevant. During my nearly twenty years in the robbery homicide division, I learned that not all crooks are smart.”
“They’re not all stupid either,” Molly insisted. “If they have anything to do with the gang we’re after, I suspect those earrings are a Trojan horse, or a red herring.”
“Speaking of red, here’s a photo of the missing ruby earrings. Discovering their whereabouts is now my top priority. I’m convinced that will lead us directly to the thieves we’re trying to catch. After all, what other possibility is there?”
“The earrings could have been lifted by a kleptomaniac,” Molly said.
That took some of the wind out of Pat’s sails.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“I’m going to play the part of a tourist and go ashore at the next port of call.”
***
Molly could have had her choice of several friendly companions for her excursion onto solid ground, but she shunned human contact in favor of an inanimate object. She took her general-purpose purse with her.
Casual observers might have assumed Mrs. Sullivan was a typical laidback tourist, meandering around with no particular purpose and not a care in the world, but onlookers with that limited perspective would have been seriously wrong. Molly was acutely aware of her surroundings.
She assessed each and every individual from the cruise ship as a potential suspect or victim. One person in particular caught her eye. Why would a woman in her mid to late thirties wear a headscarf on a calm day? Protection from the sun? Possibly, but her vacation tan suggested otherwise.
Driven by curiosity, Molly tagged along behind the young woman for several uneventful minutes until she paused outside of an unremarkable restaurant. Molly moved closer and off to one side.
As the woman started to remove her head covering, she revealed a ruby earring.
“Please retie your scarf,” Molly said, stepping forward.
“What? Why?”
“I want you to have your hands free.” Molly shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “This is really embarrassing. I know I should have taken care of business before leaving the ship, but I was really anxious to get started with my shopping. I was afraid all of the bargains would be snapped up before I could get to the little out-of-the-way shops. I’m Molly, by the way.”
“I’m Trudy. What is it you want?”
“I need to visit the ladies room, Trudy, and if you don’t mind terribly I’d like for you to go with me and hold my purse.”
“Okay,” Trudy said. She quickly knotted her scarf underneath her chin, and then she opened the door for Molly. They entered the eatery and headed toward the restrooms. Once inside, Molly handed over her purse.
“I couldn’t help but notice your earrings. Are they a family heirloom?”
“Far from it. I just got them last night.”
“Really?”
“Yes, from a secret admirer. I’m supposed to meet him here.”
“How do you know that?
“The earrings came with a note.”
“May I see it?”
“No, I was instructed to destroy the message; that way our meeting would seem more spontaneous.”
“It’s none of my business, but what sort of candidate are you seeking for your shipboard romance?” Molly asked.
“Tall, dark, and handsome would be nice, but I’d settle for reasonably good-looking, at least as tall as I am, and with a clear complexion. By that I mean beyond his adolescent acne years by at least a decade.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Trudy, but I didn’t see anybody debarking that even remotely fits that description. Most of the men appeared to be dragged along by a wife or girlfriend. Even the women were mostly in groups of two or three.”
“I distinctly remember there were two rather good-looking young men without female companions,” Trudy said.
“Did you also notice that just before they disappeared into a swarming crowd of tourists, they were holding hands?”
Trudy shook her head. Molly continued her questioning.
“Is there any chance your admirer could be a woman?”
“Now that you mention it; the handwriting was rather dainty.”
Trudy took a step backwards.
“Was it you?”
“No,” Molly said emphatically. “I assure you it was not. Please excuse my interrogation, Trudy, but your situation has piqued my interest. Can you think of anyone, man or woman, who might have given you the earrings? Have you noticed anyone following you or loitering about?”
Trudy tilted her head slightly and stared at nothing in particular for several heartbeats.
“I doubt that it means anything, but I thought I caught a woman looking at me out of the corner of her eye a couple of times. I don’t know who she is, though.”
“Can you describe her?”
“I’ve seen her just about every time I’ve gone ashore, but I didn’t really pay much attention to her. I did notice that except for wearing expensive perfume and designer shoes, she has a terribly poor sense of fashion. I can’t imagine her having anything to do with these classy earrings I was given.”
“Why is that?”
“One time the woman had her purchases in a clear plastic bag and I could see it was filled with cheap costume jewelry.”
“How did you know the items were inexpensive?”
“By their sheer volume; it was a huge bag. If there were quality gems involved, they’d have been worth a small fortune.”
“You’ve convinced me,” Molly said. “Now, I need to convince you of something.”
“I think you’ve already made it quite clear that I’ve been duped,” Trudy said. “What else can there be?”
“Something worse, I’m afraid. The earrings you have on right now are stolen property, and unless I miss my guess, they were given to you in an attempt to make you a scapegoat. Do you remember being observed by a couple of sharp-eyed policemen when you got off the boat?”
“Vaguely.”
“Lucky for you, your ears were covered and you had your head down to watch where you were stepping. Why’d you put on a scarf?”
“I was self-conscious about wearing flashy earrings. Showing off is not my usual style.”
“That’s easily remedied. Take off the earrings and give them to me.”
Trudy did as she was told. Molly accepted the purloined rubies and dropped them into her purse.
“There’s one more thing you need to be concerned about, Trudy. Your so-called secret admirer knows what you look like. It’s likely he or she gave your description to the police. If so, those officers will be waiting for you to return to the ship and as soon as they see your face, they’ll be suspicious of your pierced ears.”
“What can I do?”
“Hang on. I think I may have something suitable in my purse.”
Molly rummaged around in her spacious handbag and produced in turn a set of clip-on earrings, a pair of sunglasses, and a wig. She helped Trudy put on her disguise.
“I’m ready to return to the ship,” Trudy said. “Do you have any parting advice?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Molly said. “Until the thief is caught, I’d recommend you spend as much time as possible in crowded venues with lots and lots of people—otherwise known as witnesses—and, above all else, try to avoid dark, lonely places.”
Molly failed to follow her own advice and, later that evening, paid dearly for that oversight.
While taking a shortcut through a dimly lit area, the intrepid investigator felt the impact of a blunt object connecting solidly with the trapezius muscle on the starboard side of her upper back. In a lucid moment, she speculated that the cosh—an improvised shillelagh perhaps—had been intended to render a lethal blow to the back of her head, but its trajectory had fallen short and veered to the right, narrowly missing her spinal column.
Next, she experienced a falling sensation that was all too real.
Down, down she went, until she landed on a flat surface.
Some primordial amphibian instinct compelled her to do a couple of scissors kicks and then Molly lay perfectly still, face down in the water.
The first mate came looking for her about a quarter of an hour later.
Molly had not moved at all during that interval, although her would-be rescuer had no way of knowing that nor how long she’d been in the water.
Pat O’Reilly had the presence of mind to put down both his walkie-talkie and his cell phone on the deck before jumping into the pool.
He needed only a couple of quick strokes to reach Molly’s inert form. He turned her over and then as quickly as possible towed her to the edge of the pool and dragged her body out of the water.
Kneeling by her side, Pat placed his left ear close to Molly’s mouth and listened carefully. A short time later he sat back on his heels and shook his head from side to side. Slowly, the first mate stood up and walked the short distance to his cell phone to call for assistance.
While he was waiting for help to arrive, Pat reentered the pool and retrieved Molly’s handbag.
***
A flamboyant woman with a big purse and an appetite to match tends to leave a lasting impression wherever she goes, and that’s especially true in locations that serve food.
Her sudden, unexplained absence from the dining area did not go unnoticed.
“Where’s Molly?” a concerned diner asked the first steward he could flag down.
“Mrs. Sullivan is confined to her cabin.”
“Why?”
“As I understand it, she’s off her feed for some unknown reason. In an abundance of caution, the captain wants to be absolutely sure she isn’t contagious before she resumes her normal activities. The doctor has ordered complete bed rest. No visitors, no phone calls, no disturbances of any kind.”
“She’s been quarantined?”
“That’s not a word I would use,” the steward said.
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to start a panic.”
The diner looked askance at his plate. “Was it something she ate?”
“No. Rest assured her present condition has nothing whatsoever to do with food.”
Although he had only a meager amount of information himself, the steward judiciously refrained from mentioning that water was involved.
***
The ship’s doctor was equally confused when—following his discrete tap on a cabin door—he found himself face-to-face with the first mate.
“I haven’t carried this old medical bag for ages and this is the first time ever I’ve been instructed to use it as a picnic hamper. What’s this nonsense the captain was telling me about an Irish Wake?”
“Shush, Doc,” Pat O’Reilly said. “This is not an appropriate conversation for passageways. Come inside and all will be made clear.”
“I sure hope so. I brought the funeral lunch as requested. Now, where’s the corpse?”
Molly Sullivan, seated on the edge of her bed, raised her right hand. She flinched from the strain that put on her injured shoulder.
“That would be me,” she said, “except for some very fortuitous extenuating circumstances.”
The doctor sighed.
“Let me tell you up front, Mrs. Sullivan, I’m not a fan of practical jokes.”
“Nor am I,” Molly said.
“Perhaps you can provide me with some additional details then, so I can properly amend the report of your accidental drowning.”
“Gladly, Doctor Harper, but could you please give me a sandwich before we start? I missed a couple of meals.”
“Why am I the one bringing food here?”
Pat answered the doctor’s question.
“Because we didn’t want a steward to be seen delivering meals to a room purported to be without a living occupant. You, Doctor, on the other hand could be expected to put in an appearance at some point.”
Between bites Molly commenced telling her story.
“Your report is wrong in a couple of the details, Doctor. What happened to me was no accident and, although I swallowed some water, I didn’t get any in my lungs, so technically I didn’t drown either.”
“I was told you were in the pool for an extended period of time doing a dead man’s float with no artificial air supply.”
“That’s correct,” Molly said.
“How was that possible?”
“When traveling, I try to prepare for as many contingencies as possible. In planning this voyage, I bought a waterproof purse. I may not be unsinkable, but I’m naturally rather buoyant. The purse acted as a personal flotation device and kept my chin above the water. The pool area was dimly-lit so that lifesaving wrinkle would not have been apparent to anyone observing from a distance.”
“That may explain the how, but I’m also interested in the why. What possessed you to go swimming in the wee hours of the morning when there was no lifeguard on duty?”
“You’re mistaken again, Doc. I had no intention of swimming. I was taking a shortcut on my way to a strategy session with the first mate. When I failed to show up at three o’clock sharp as expected, I caused him some serious concern and he went looking for me.”
“Why didn’t you get out of the pool on your own?”
“I was fearful that my assailant might be watching.”
“Are you suggesting you were attacked by someone?”
“Yes, I was knocked into the water.”
“I don’t want to be a wet blanket here, but how do you know you weren’t the victim of a juvenile prankster who was just horsing around?”
“I know the difference, Doctor. The person who came after me intended to do some serious harm.”
“Did you see who it was?”
“No. She came up behind me on tiptoes. I didn’t hear her approach because of the sound of my own footsteps. My first inkling that something was wrong was when I got a whiff of her perfume. I started to turn around and that may have saved my life by spoiling her aim when she clobbered me in the back with a heavy object.”
“Couldn’t she have been wearing deck shoes? They’re quiet.”
“No, absolutely not. After I’d been perfectly still for probably somewhere between five and ten minutes, I heard the click of her heels as she walked away. I didn’t move even then in case she’d stopped some distance away to observe what happened next.”
Molly paused to drink some bottled water.
“Go on. What happened next?” the doctor said.
“Pat showed up and pulled me out of the pool.”
“Did he perform CPR or pretend to?”
“No, I told him not to. I didn’t want a cracked rib in addition to my already sore back.”
“How did you manage to communicate that without revealing to any supposed onlookers that you were still alive?”
Pat picked up the narrative.
“I bent down to see if she was still breathing, and she surprised me by using a convict’s whisper. Her lips didn’t move at all. Don’t ask me how she learned to do that.”
A quick glance at Molly’s frowning face discouraged the doctor from asking her directly. He changed the subject.
“If you’re telling the truth, and I have my doubts, it seems to me you’ve had an unprecedented string of good luck.”
“I suppose so,” Molly said. “An occasional setback is to be expected, though. Even Sherlock Holmes had his encounter with Moriarty at the Reichenbach Falls.”
“Yes, but I doubt that he made as big a splash as you did,” the doctor said.
“That was an unkind remark,” Pat interjected.
The doctor blinked rapidly a couple of times and straightened his tie.
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” he said, “but I think Mr. Holmes was empty-handed when he went into the water. If he’d been carrying a purse the size of a small suitcase, I’m certain he’d have displaced a considerable amount of H2O, as well.”
Pat mouthed the words “nice save” so that only the doctor could see.
“There’s something that’s troubling me,” Molly said. “How did the jewel thieves find out that I’m an integral part of the investigative team?”
“About that…,” Pat said. “I only learned after it was too late that the captain ignored my request for confidentiality. Apparently, he’s kept Sean McGuinness in the loop all along and probably will continue to do so.”
If possible, the doctor’s expression became even more sour than before.
“Why is this woman involved in what is clearly the cruise line’s private business?”
“It was the captain’s idea,” Pat said. “I was reluctant to accept Molly’s participation at first, but she’s proved her worth.”
“Not to me, she hasn’t,” the doctor said. “I don’t approve of your methods either, but I have to admit, however grudgingly, that your bringing Mrs. Sullivan back to her cabin on a blanket-covered stretcher was a very convincing maneuver. The skipper thinks she’s dead.”
“Good. What the captain doesn’t know can’t hurt us,” Pat said. “I didn’t have a chance to ask you earlier, Molly. Did you learn anything useful while you were ashore?”
“Yes, I think I can identify my attacker and at the same time let you know how the thefts were carried out.”
“Do you have any proof that will stand up in court?”
“No, I don’t have enough solid evidence to convict all of the wrongdoers. If they think I’m out of the picture, however, the members of the gang will probably go back to business as usual. Maybe you can catch them in the act.”
“How would you suggest we go about that?”
“Do you have a police scanner?” Molly asked.
“No, why would I? There are no communications to monitor here.”
“Wanna bet?”
“I know better than to bet against you, Molly. What are you getting at?”
“It’s my considered opinion that Sean McGuinness is the gang’s spotter. He has a radio transmitter and possibly even a digital camera built into his bulky glasses. He communicates to an accomplice who enters the unoccupied cabins and steals the targeted jewels. After that, the cat burglar delivers the loot to the woman who knocked me into the pool. By now, she probably has a suitcase filled with costume jewelry. It would take hours to sort through the dross looking for the items of genuine value. Basically, she’s hiding the stolen jewelry in plain sight. Since a man’s wristwatch would stick out like a sore thumb, it’s likely Sean’s missing watch was a cheap knockoff that he tossed overboard after showing it to enough crewmembers to establish its existence.”
“Are you saying the situation is hopeless even though we have a viable suspect?”
“Not at all. The Goldstein necklace can be identified easily by a tiny monogram on the clasp, so if all you want to do is recover the stolen property and catch one of the thieves you can move in immediately. She might implicate the others, but I doubt it. Wouldn’t you rather build an independent case against the other thieves yourself?”
Pat nodded his head.
“Yes, and for that purpose a scanner would be very helpful, perhaps even essential to ensure our success, but there’s no place to get one while we’re at sea.”
“Hand me my purse,” Molly said. “I’m sure I’ve got what you need in there somewhere, but you may have to change the batteries.”
“Not a problem,” Pat said.
The doctor emptied the contents of his medical bag and headed for the door.
“You’re not going to tell the captain what went on here, are you?” Pat asked him.
“What do you think? It’s Captain Swenson’s ship and he outranks you.”
“What I think is you took a Hippocratic Oath to do no harm. Speaking out of turn to anyone outside of this room could put Molly’s life at risk and that would not set well with me. My oath was to serve and protect. That means I’m free to harm anybody I want to if it’s in the line of duty and for the public good.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“What do you think?”
It may have been a trick of the lighting but Dr. Harper seemed a bit green around the gills as he left the cabin and slammed the door behind him.
“Thanks for standing up for me, Pat,” Molly said. “From here on out it should be a mopping-up operation. I’m sure you have some reliable stewards you can enlist in your cause.”
Pat nodded his head.
“Do me a favor though,” Molly added. “Try to catch the thieves before I run out of food. The doctor might be reluctant to come back here again anytime soon.”
***
A couple of days later, the case was closed, the culprits in custody, and the loot redistributed to its rightful owners. There was a decidedly festive mood at the captain’s table.
There were no outward signs of any lingering animosity with regard to his earlier questionable behavior in having hobnobbed with the ringleader of the gang of jewel thieves.
Miriam Goldstein was the center of attention with her sparkly necklace on full display. She received a number of heartfelt compliments and an equal number of envious stares.
Captain Swenson was not immune to the attraction of the brilliant gems.
“I’m grateful, of course,” he said to the Goldsteins, “but I can’t fathom why the two of you were willing to risk the loss of such a valuable necklace in Mrs. Sullivan’s reckless scheme to catch a thief.”
“We trusted Molly’s instincts and besides that the risk was minimal,” Miriam said.
“What do you mean?”
“The necklace is a fake,” Abe whispered. “The real one is safe in a bank vault on dry land. I spoiled the surprise a little by giving Miriam her anniversary present a couple weeks early, but there was no way we’d take the genuine diamonds on a sea cruise. Not after we saw the movie Titanic.”
***
It was all over but the shouting.
“I think it’s my shout,” Pat O’Reilly said. “Isn’t that the right way to say it’s my turn to buy?”
Their shot glasses were empty.
Molly considered the quiet atmosphere of the lounge, glancing at a number of silent imbibers, before answering.
“It would be if we were in a noisy pub instead of gently bobbing on the ocean in a floating tub.”
“You don’t have a high opinion of this vessel?”
“Not especially.”
“Why are you here then?”
“I won a free cruise, or I thought I did anyway. Now, I’m beginning to suspect my detractors took up a collection to get me out of town for a while. I suppose another possibility is someone affiliated with the shipping line wanted me onboard to do some troubleshooting for them. Either way I feel used.”
She touched the tender spot on her upper back and winced.
“Maybe this will improve your spirits,” Pat said, as he pulled a silver flask out of his jacket pocket.
“What is it?”
“Moonshine from the Emerald Isle.”
He poured a small amount into each of their glasses.
“Cheers.”
“Is that the best you can do?” Molly asked.
“What?”
“When in Rome doesn’t apply here,” she said. “We’re in international waters. This is bootleg Irish whiskey, or purports to be poteen anyway.”
“You have a good point,” Pat said. “What should I say?”
“Sláinte.”
Pat clinked his glass against hers and echoed Molly’s sentiment with a resounding emphasis that attracted the notice of the drinkers at nearby tables.
After taking a sip of the potent potion, Molly said, “I wonder what conspiracy theories will get reported to the captain after this harmless toast.”
BIO
John H. Dromey was born in northeast Missouri. He enjoys reading—mysteries in particular—and writing in a variety of genres. His short fiction has appeared in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, Flame Tree Fiction Newsletter, Gumshoe Review, Mystery Weekly Magazine, and elsewhere.
