That’s My Story (And I’m Sticking To It)

 

I was standing on the forward deck of the Allure, the Wanderlust Company’s newest ship, looking out at the sea thanking its gods for my good fortune. I’m Monica Delmar, Director of Passenger Events. And to say I’ve seen many unusual things occur onboard a ship would be like me telling you the water isn’t blue. You might now believe me until you dove in and saw that it’s not that color at all. Perceptions can be deceiving and not always entirely trustworthy. I was hoping this time perception and reality would match and that nothing would spoil the splendors I’d planned for the ship’s three-hundred well-heeled passengers on this voyage from Monte Carlo to Lisbon.

The ship itself was beautiful. New. Sleek, elegant, luxurious—all the upscale adjectives complemented by huge oceanfront only suites, gourmet dining, pampering spa treatments, and any other outrageous extravagances the passengers could imagine.

The select high-end merchants whose jewel-box shops lined the Grand Salon were ready, smiling as if they’d discovered bulging chests brimming with buried treasure. Who could blame them? I knew they’d have quite the time swiping those black American Express cards the passengers would be eager to present.

It was to be a perfect a cruise and, for me, what I hoped would be the start of a very lucrative career with the Wanderlust Company.

I’d been extremely lucky to get the job, coming from a more proletarian cruise line whose passengers generally numbered in the thousands rather than the hundreds. There, I was the low woman on the totem pole of four social directors, responsible for the lounge entertainment: mostly performers past their prime, tottering on their last legs. I’d done my best and my supervisor appreciated my work. When I told her I needed a change, recommended me to Wanderlust’s Human Resources department. Believe me, it wasn’t difficult to say goodbye.

***

Now on the Allure, I was responsible for all the passenger events, and had my own staff of four to assist me. It was a bit daunting, especially dealing with celebrity passengers like Elena Holden, a movie star with a capital ‘S’ who attracted trouble with a capital ‘T’.

Elena, now perched on the edge of fifty, was still stunningly beautiful. If she’d had work done, it was very good. She’d joined the ship two days ago before we were scheduled to leave on our route to Lisbon. She wanted to relax and rejuvenate after her last divorce, her third, I think, and believed a few days alone would do the trick before she encountered her adoring public on board—of course, her press agent leaked the news weeks before that she’d be on the Allure’s maiden voyage. The Wanderlust Cruise Line was happy to accommodate her. I’d had strict orders from the head of the line, to “afford her every convenience and make sure she was pampered and protected.”

The last was emphasized with a low growl that let me know he meant business. Aye, aye, Sir, I replied to myself while assuring him I would do my best to ensure Ms. Holden got the royal treatment.

Captain Brigman had joined me as we greeted the star at the gangway and escorted her to the penthouse suite. It was gorgeous, with its glassed-in verandah overlooking the ocean, private soak pool and amenities too numerous to list. She seemed pleased as she glanced around. I knew I would be. Even though my title may have sounded grand, my quarters were less so, and located on a much lower deck. I had been fortunate to be able to invite my best friend from my previous job, Irene Waxman, on this cruise. She was due to arrive later today. She’d hold my hand as I made my way through this first voyage of the Allure. Maiden sailings were tricky and I was still wary there might be squalls or surprises ahead, especially with Elena Holden on board.

Ms. Holden was traveling alone, unless you counted her oversized jewelry case, which was as large as a small child, and which I was sure held the famous, and huge, pear-shaped ruby and diamond earrings given to her by her first husband. Her most generous, I’d heard. She asked for the location of the suite’s safe the moment we entered, and excused herself as she left to deposit her jewelry in its confines. Smiling happily, she returned to the living room a few minutes later, now attired in a Dior sundress I recognized from the latest collection, and of course, those earrings. They really were magnificent and I had to stop myself from staring, as I was certain everyone did.

I sent for the suite steward to unpack for her while the Captain escorted her on a tour of the ship. I had other details to attend to, such as welcoming the quartet of single men who I’d engaged as dance hosts and companions for any of the single women onboard.

If you’ve ever taken a cruise, you know about these gentlemen. Usually between thirty and sixty years old, they receive a free cruise in return for this service. But as we all know, nothing in life is truly free, and often they more than danced for their supper. I was sure the single female passengers, or those on a mini marriage break, would put them through their paces.

These four appeared for inspection and instructions in the aft bar and lounge, The Quartermaster. All were tall, trim and handsome enough. They presented themselves in their tuxedos, which they’d be required to wear every evening. I just hoped they could dance, as the talent booker for the Wanderlust Line had assured me by email that they could.

One of them in particular, Derrick Robson, stood out. There was something about the look in his blue eyes, which were as bright as the sky over the ocean that signaled trouble. His black hair and chiseled features on his café-au-lait face added the slightest touch of menace to his six-foot plus model-perfect appearance, but disappeared the moment he smiled.

He’d also arrived with a walking stick, which gave me pause. Was it a prop or a necessity?

“Thank you, gentlemen, it was lovely to meet you. Please settle into your cabins, change into something comfortable, and then proceed to the Magnifique Ballroom at four p.m. Carmen and Orlando, our resident dance team will meet you to discuss and demonstrate the dances you’ll be expected to perform. Enjoy the ship and I’ll see you tomorrow evening at dinner.”

As they rose to depart, I asked Mr. Robson to stay behind. “Mr. Robson, I just want to make sure your walking stick is merely for effect, and not something that would keep you from your dancing duties.”

He smiled. “Of course not, Ms. Delmar.” He pronounced my name as if he was asking a question, almost as if he were insinuating it might be made up. I didn’t rise to the bait, but ignored his jibe waiting for him to continue. “I believe it adds to my look. Don’t you agree?” He spoke in one of those hybrid world accents, like the one Madonna adopted when she lived in England. I just stood there as he raised the silver-tipped handle of the walking stick in my direction then left the lounge.

I rolled my eyes. Oh boy, had I made a mistake in hiring this one? I’d have to talk it over with Irene as soon as she arrived.

***

The afternoon flew by with me checking on a hundred little details that while seemingly insignificant, could make or break the voyage. My staff was efficient and proactive, and had everything well in hand. The schedule of lectures, events and entertainment was complete. The place cards and seating arrangements for the Captain’s Dinner tomorrow evening was settled and the menu fixed. I checked over the daily program of movies, spa and sporting events and was satisfied.

By the time Irene arrived on board, I was beat. Once I got her things stowed away in my cabin, I ordered a bottle of Cristal champagne to celebrate both seeing her, and my new job.

“Cristal?” she asked as I popped the cork and poured the sparkling liquid into two elegant flutes.

“It’s the house Champagne,” I replied and we both started laughing. On our other cruise line, Korbel was about as good as it got. “I think I’m going to like it here,” Irene said, clinking her flute against mine, then finishing what was in it and holding it out for a refill.

We chatted for a while as we sipped our Champagne. “Let’s give you a tour of the ship,” I said. “There’s something I want your opinion on.”

We spent the next hour going over every public room of the ship and some of its most luxurious cabins. “Monica, I beg you!” Her hands were clasped in front of her as though she was praying to highlight her words. “Hire me. I want to work here.” She looked around the Starlight Dining Room with its gilt fixtures, moiré silk covered walls, and beautiful table settings and sighed. “Three hundred guests instead of three thousand, and all of this.”

I led her to a table under a window banquette, which was set with the Allure’s signature sterling and crystal. Irene gently patted the crisp white tablecloth as I asked one of the waiters to bring us tea.

“It’s not all fun and games,” I told her as she bit into a freshly baked scone dotted with raisins and lathered with jam and clotted cream.

“You could have fooled me,” she replied as she licked a smidge of jam from the corner of her mouth.

“I’m being serious. I need your opinion about one of the dance hosts I hired.”

“What about him?”

“Well, he’s too handsome—” I began only to be cut off in mid- sentence.

“—Are you nuts? Isn’t handsome a plus? Especially with the clientele the Allure will attract?” Her eyes were squinting and she was looking at me like I really was crazy.

“Yes, but, there’s something a little sinister…or, I don’t know what, too…” I shook my head at my inability to articulate my misgivings. “C’mon,” I said. “I’ll show you.”

I took Irene’s arm and edged her out of her seat as she protested she wasn’t finished. “The dance hosts should still be in the ballroom with Carmen and Orlando, reviewing the dances they need to know. We left the dining room and walked along the port side until we came to the Magnifique Ballroom.

As Irene and I peeked through the entrance door, I heard a voice behind me.

“Ms. Delmar, what’s going on in there?”

It was Elena Holden who had observed us observing the dancers. I explained that the dance hosts were rehearsing and introduced her to Irene, who murmured all the right things, which the actress brushed off with a “Lovely to meet you, as well.” Her attention was obviously elsewhere.  “Now why don’t we step inside and join the fun.” She swept ahead of me and marched into the ballroom. It didn’t take long until all eyes were on her, as I suspected, she knew would they would be. Once again, I made the introductions. She nodded to everyone politely, until she came to Derrick Robson. She held out her hand to him. “I performed all the dance routines in my movies myself,” she said, taking his hand and leading him onto the dance floor. “Now, why don’t you show me your moves?”

Orlando threw me a look but turned up the music they’d been practicing to. And Elena and Derrick were off, in a tango that was looking more torrid by the moment.

Irene whispered in my ear. “Your celebrity guest seems to like what she sees. Those dimples and square jaw are very attractive, not to mention the body that goes with them.”

“Damn,” I hissed, as I watched Elena smile and tilt her head up at him, those humongous ruby and diamond earrings sparkling with fire as they moved in and out of each other’s arms. The trouble had arrived, I thought. This was going to be bad.

***

That evening, Captain Brigman, had invited Ms. Holden to be his guest at dinner in his private quarters. He’d also asked me to come along so I could explain all the unique touches our beautiful ship had to offer.

When I arrived a few minutes before eight, I noticed the table was set for four. The Captain caught me looking and shook his head. “Ms. Holden asked that I include Mr. Derrick Robson, one of our dance hosts, as well.” He paused and tugged on his short white beard. “So much for her wanting to be alone,” he added. “I trust you can handle this situation.”

Me! I wanted to say. How could I separate her from her heart’s new desire? And who was this Derrick Robson anyway? I’d vetted him with the cruise line’s department that supplied our dance hosts and he’d had great references. And no criminal history. What about gigolo, lothario and con man? Was that anywhere on his resume? He hadn’t wasted a second getting close to Elena Holden.

After dinner, I grabbed Irene. “What am I going to do?” I hung my head in my hands. “What if he’s after her money? What if tomorrow she decides she doesn’t like him anymore and complains? I’ll be out of a job before I even get started.”

“Oh honey, I don’t think there’s anything you can do.” She patted my back and closed the light. “I need to get to sleep. I have a spa appointment first thing in the morning. It’s on you, by the way.”

***

The next day, it was full speed ahead. I welcomed as many of the guests as I could and had my staff show them to their cabins. So far, all I’d heard was praise about the elegant accommodations.

We set off at five p.m. on our route to Lisbon sailing into a magnificent sunset that brought more ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ from the passengers who were enjoying a bon voyage toast on the bridge deck. It was the beginning of a wonderful adventure that would bring our guests to three ports along the way, Barcelona, Tangier, and Casablanca, where they could disembark and tour each city.

During the voyage, Elena Holden and Derrick Robson were inseparable. Holding hands at dinner, canoodling on the deck under the moonlight, dancing until the wee hours, those ruby and diamond earrings catching whatever light was available and sparkling for all they were worth, which I’d have to say, was a considerable sum.

Robson was a very good dancer, which also ticked me off. I was down one dance host thanks to Ms. Holden, and there were several ladies who’d complained they were lacking a partner. There was nothing I could do about it now. The other three hosts would just have to step up and dance a little harder.

The last stop before Lisbon was Casablanca where we were to dock overnight, so our guests would have plenty of time to enjoy the city’s exotic souks and bazaars.

Elena Holden and Derrick Robson were foregoing the tour planned by the ship, i.e. me, in favor of “exploring this beautiful place on our own,” as Ms. Holden put it while beaming up at Robson. “Derrick knows all the interesting sites,” she added. “It’s going to be so much fun,”

I’ll bet, I thought, as I watched them walk toward the dock and be swallowed up by the crowd of merchants and vendors hawking everything from baskets and beads to spices and souvenirs.

Well, I had my group of tourists to take care of and couldn’t concern myself with those two. Irene acted as my second in command and helped me round up the cluster of ten who’d signed up for the excursion, and get them settled in the Mercedes bus waiting for us.

It was an exhausting day, with stops at Rick’s Café, the Hassan II Mosque, Chellah and the Kasbah of the Oudayas, a 12^th-century fortress, plus breaks for shopping

and lunch at the city’s finest hotel. At each stop, I looked around for Elena and Derrick, but hadn’t caught even a glimpse of them. They must truly have wanted to be alone.

My passengers were happy and content as we made our way back to the Allure. When we were once again onboard, I found Captain Brigman waiting for me just inside the gangway. “Monica, may I have a word?” He strode off toward a personnel-only elevator that led toward the bridge before I had a chance to answer. I followed meekly, shooting a quick glance over my shoulder at Irene, in a ‘What now?’ look.

“Ms. Holden and Mr. Robson arrived just a few minutes ago,” the Captain began as he led me toward his office behind the bridge. “It seems he saved Ms. Holden from a very dangerous situation.”

He opened the door and gestured for me to enter. The two people the Captain had been referring to were sitting on a small settee. Derrick had a huge bruise on the left side of his face and his right hand was bandaged. He was bending over Elena holding her shoulder with his left hand and she was staring up at him in what could only be described as adoration.

I turned to the Captain. “What happened?” I asked, unsure of what to say.

“Perhaps Ms. Holden can tell you.”

Elena finally looked at us, tearing her eyes away from Derrick with difficulty. “Derrick saved my life and my ruby earrings.” She held out her hand in which rested her prized possessions.

She took a deep breath and then began. “We heard footsteps and voices behind us as we were leaving a café near the souk where we’d stopped for drinks. All of a sudden, three men in robes and face coverings surrounded us. Two of them attacked Derrick while the other one grabbed me from behind and held a knife at my throat. He insisted I remove my earrings.” She touched her throat as if she could still feel the cold steel of the blade. “Derrick managed to fight off the two men, beating them with his cane until they ran away. Then, he turned toward the man with the knife and pulled him away from me, knocking the knife from his hand.” She shivered at the memory. “It was all so horrible. He and Derrick fell to the ground and tumbled everywhere. The thief was trying to retrieve his knife and I was sure if he did, he’d kill both of us.” She paused again and touched Derrick’s bruised cheek. “Derrick finally managed to scramble close enough to grab it and lunged at the man. He dropped my earrings and fled, knowing he’d lost.”

She glanced down at the gems resting in her palm, the earrings that had almost been stolen, then up at Derrick.

I fully expected her to add “my hero” to the end of her tale, but she spared us that sobriquet. I looked at Derrick and thought I saw a flash of an evil glint in his baby blues. The one I had first noticed when we met. It was gone before you could say rubies, but it had been there. I twigged to what had really happened, but there was no way to prove it, unless I could examine the earrings myself.

“That’s wonderful,” I said. “You were so brave.” I hoped the sarcasm in my voice was subtle enough that only he would notice. If he did, he didn’t react. Instead, he just patted Elena’s arm.

“Well, I’m glad that’s all settled,” said the Captain. “Please let me know if there’s anything I, or Ms. Delmar, can do for you. I knew what I wanted to do, but smiled at the pair, keeping my thoughts to myself.

The couple left the Captain’s office and he turned to me. “We can’t have this type of incident happen again,” he said.

He was blaming me. Again. I couldn’t believe it. “Yes Sir,” I replied and left the room. This was not over, not by a long shot.

***

I knew finding out the truth, and getting Derrick to confess wouldn’t be easy, I’d have to separate the happy couple, while I accosted Derrick with the scenario I’d figured out.

The next morning, I sent Elena Holden an invitation “to experience an intimate, restorative, total body indulgence” at our world-famous spa to make up for the inconvenience she’d gone through yesterday. It would be something she wouldn’t be able to refuse.

While she was being patted and pampered, I sought out Derrick Robson. “I know what you did,” I said with no preamble when I found him on the aft deck enjoying his morning coffee and checking his email—probably boasting about his score to one of his confederates. I strode over and stared down at him. “You knew Elena Holden was sailing with us.” Everybody did thanks to her publicist. “You planned this ahead of time and switched the real earrings for copies during that fake attack.” Excellent copies, I thought to myself, probably made by a shady jeweler in Amsterdam. “I know you did it.” I paused. “And now you’re going to switch them back.”

He looked up at me and laughed. “You have a very fanciful imagination, Ms. Delmar, or should I call you Ms. Delmarino?”

His barb had struck home. I’m sure I looked like a fish gulping for air with my mouth opening and closing silently. How had he found out my real last name? The one my father had changed to disassociate himself from his former, well-known New York crime family.

“Do Wanderlust Cruises know who you really are?” He raised an eyebrow as he looked up at me from his chair. “If you go around making such serious accusations about someone you employed, and they find out, it might seem like you were the one who committed a crime.”

He was right. If they found out my family connection, they’d never believe I didn’t have anything to do with his scheme.

“I…I…I sputtered. Just put them back before we dock.” Then I turned on my heel and left. I could hear the sound of his laughter trailing me as I walked across the deck.

I thought about searching his cabin, but he was too clever to hide them where I might easily find them. I was royally screwed. I went back to my own cabin and plopped down on my bed to think. It suddenly occurred to me where he’d stashed the earrings and I thought I might have a way to get them back.

I texted Irene who I knew was at breakfast. Stop eating. Go to the aft deck & watch Derrick Robson. Text me immediately if he leaves. Will explain later.

***

After a visit to our maintenance department and the exotic plant greenhouse, I made my way to Elena Holden’s cabin. I used my passkey to enter—an action for which I’d be immediately fired, if caught. I found what I was looking for, smiled to myself as I fiddled with it, and left. They’d never know I’d been there

***

The next day, as the ship docked in Lisbon, Irene and I were on deck watching the passengers disembark. She’d be leaving shortly herself, before the Allure set sail for South America later that afternoon.

I pointed to Derrick Robson ambling down the gangway, heading to the waiting Rolls parked on the dock, swinging his cane looking like didn’t have a care in the world.

“He told me he didn’t take them.”

“And you believed him?” Irene asked not able to hide the incredulity in her voice.

I considered before answering her. “Mmmm.” I finally replied. She just looked at me and shrugged.

“Was that a yes?” Irene persisted.

I turned toward her, the wind whipping my long black hair across my face. “What can I say? He convinced me.” I hoped she’d leave it at that.

No such luck. “But why didn’t you call the authorities and confront him?’ Her question snapped at me like an accusation.

“There are no authorities in the middle of the ocean. Except the Captain. He wouldn’t have wanted to know about my suspicions. It was better this way.”

Irene knew the old me would have sprung on him like a tiger and held him down until the police came. “You were never this way before.” Her face took on a perplexed expression, as if she’d encountered  a sea creature she hadn’t believe existed.

She couldn’t wrap her mind around why I said I believed him and hadn’t done more to get Derrick Robson to confess. I’d asked her to watch him after all. What was that about? I told her I’d made a mistake.

“Well, it’s done now. Over.” What I didn’t tell her, and what she could never know, was that I switched out the earrings, which Derrick had hidden in his walking stick. If I told Irene the truth now, more than she knew would be over.

***

While he and Elena were otherwise engaged, I’d used the small pliers I borrowed from maintenance and removed the silver handle on top of his walking stick. As I suspected, the earrings were nestled inside, wrapped in soft jeweler’s cloth. I replaced them with two stones of a similar shape and weight I’d taken from the greenhouse, and wrapped them back in the jeweler’s cloth. Then, I replaced the fancy handle on his stick, wiped off my fingerprints, and left it exactly where I found it.

The ruby and diamond earrings were now in my possession. By the time Derrick Robson got the message that he’d been had, or Elena Holden realized the pair adorning her ears was fake, my uncle, Louie Petrone, would have fenced these babies for a tidy sum of money.

My dad had been the head of one of New York’s crime families years ago, and while I was never involved, I was a very observant child. I’d learned a few things about how the business worked while I played on the floor of dad’s study.

After my mom died, dad had a crisis of conscience and decided to go straight. He changed our family name and left the business to his brother-in-law, Uncle Louie. Dad was well respected and the other families knew he meant it when he said he was getting out permanently.

Of course, I could never let dad find out what I’d just done. He’d never forgive me. But, as you might imagine, Uncle Louie was very good at keeping secrets. After his cut, I was sure there’d be enough money left for a big donation to charity and maybe a pair of sparkling earrings for me.

Bio
Cathi is the author of three-part mystery series TELLING LIES, KEEPING SECRETS, and THE HARD WAY, as well as the novella, NICK OF TIME. Her new urban mystery, BAR NONE was published in October, 2018 and will be followed by LAST CALL in 2019. Her short story, The Kaluki Kings of Queens, won the Derringer for Best Short Story, 2015. She is a member of International Thriller Writers, Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime NY/Tri-State where she serve on the board. You can find her at www.cathistoler.com, on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/CathiStolerAuthor/ and on Twitter at @cathistoler.