Cruise to Critique (Lucky & Led Cruise Ship Mystery Series Book 5) Read online

  “Slow down, my Friend,” Lucky aggressively intervened. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to hear you tell the full story when we make it back to the ship. Right now we need to get your emotions calmed down, Led. What did the authorities say about all of this? Aren’t you required to go to the police station?”

  Funny Lucky should ask, as, strange as it may sound, no one had specifically given Led any further instruction. With the Constable running off with the Chief Inspector and the EMT team leaving with Marsha’s body, he was left in the lurch about what he was expected to do next or if he was to make some kind of a report. The investigative process appeared to be a bit more relaxed in this part of the Caribbean. The policing culture probably had developed a more laid back style due to it being an island. Where would a criminal, or anyone, for that matter, run to or hide, on an island this small?

  “I got into trouble once about this, Led, but I’d really like to interview you about this terrible happening. It would most definitely make for a unique cruise critique. But, I won’t pressure you, just yet,” Samantha spoke to Led, holding his arm, as the five of them walked back to George’s SUV.

  “Actually, telling your story might be a great therapy and help you regain your peace of mind, Led,” Lucky added since now he was convinced that Samantha would have her story come murder or high tide. Lucky and Led had been friends for many years and Lucky knew that Led was hiding a ton of angst underneath all that macho bravado.

  As the pace of their walk back to the SUV quickened, Led’s spirits began to rise. “Well, you know I like to tell a good story,” Led half smiled and gave a weak wink.

  “We know, Led. But, this time it needs to be the truth and not one of your wild tales, Lucky retorted. Everyone had a laugh. More a nervous giggle than anything else, it definitely helped dispel the awful gloom of the recent stark reality.

  In all this hullabaloo, Led’s mind returned to one nagging question: Where was Yolanda?

  Led was fourteen when the awful life scarring incident occurred. As we learned a bit about Led’s childhood when his father, mother and sister, surprisingly met Led on a holiday cruise, at that time there was no mention of his brother, Tony. The reason being that Mr. Daley, as head of the family, had decided to put the whole tragic affair behind them and move on with life. Of course, simply saying this did not erase the reality of the impact the accident had upon the younger teenage brother, Led.

  Tony was Led’s only brother; an older brother by almost five years. Recently graduated, Tony had an entry level job and was earning enough money to get himself the adult toy of a young man’s dream, a motorcycle. Not just any motorcycle, but a Harley Davidson “Hog”; the real man’s motorcycle.

  Led, then only a sophomore in high school, had begged Tony for rides over and over. Every plea fell on closed ears. Tony lectured him that he was still just a kid, not worthy to ride a man’s bike. Then came the day; it would prove to be the ultimate fateful day in Tony’s...and Led’s life.

  Tony arrived home early after work. It was a Friday night, date night. Tony’s girlfriend, Cheryl, had called him earlier at work and said that she couldn’t go out with him that night. Her parents had invited relatives in for dinner that evening and her dad said that she had to stay home. She and Tony had a horrendous fight over the phone. Tony wouldn’t listen to reason. The conversation ended with Cheryl slamming down the phone in the middle of Tony’s ongoing screaming tirade.

  Still boiling like a churning volcano, Tony, out of the blue, announced to Led that if he wanted that ride on the “Hog” this was his lucky night. He explained that he felt like taking a long fast ride around the beach road and Led could come along to see how his older brother handled the big bike. Of course, this was a no brainer as far as Led was concerned. He raced out to the bike sitting in the driveway and waited for his brother. Led wasn’t taking any chances that Tony would take off without him riding behind his big brother on the big bike. Bare headed himself, Tony made Led wear a safety helmet.

  The ride through the city out to the beach road was exciting for Led only because it was his first time. As they made their way through the clogged traffic, Tony weaved in and out and around through the snail pace vehicular traffic. “Hey,” Tony turned his head and shouted, “nobody slows down a ‘Hog’, especially when Tony Daley is out for a good time.”

  The city traffic dwindled to nothing as Tony and Led addressed the main drive along the beach. The weather was turning from the warm, dry, windy afternoon into a cooler, cloudy evening. Tony began ramping up the speed as the beach road presented its turns and twists around the now dusky coves. The weather turned more and more ominous. It began to mist and the road became damp...and worse, slippery. The wind had been blowing the salty sea water over the road most of the afternoon. The salt produced a film atop the road as slick as grease, but offered all the more thrill and challenge for Tony. This was his little brother’s first ride and Tony was determined to show Led the ride of his life.

  As the bike roared down a rare straight stretch exceeding ninety miles an hour, the road began taking a sharp left turn out and away from the beach toward the sheer rocky cliffs bordering the road. “Hang on, little brother,” Tony shouted back to Led, “You’re in for the thrill of a lifetime.”

  As Tony took the bike into the curve, the wheels began losing traction that set in motion a severe sliding action. The giant size “Hog” tipped sideways; the bike striking a rock fallen onto the road and rolled over...and over...and over.

  Led lay in the dirt and rock debris for a long time. Slowly his consciousness returned and he opened his eyes. He was sore and he hurt badly. He sluggishly struggled in his attempt to right himself back up on his feet. He staggered as he began looking around the scene and saw the bike twisted into a wasted bundle of metal. When the ugly truth struck him, he whimpered, “Tony! God, where are you?”

  He frantically searched in the dark for his brother in the area around the twisted bike where he had been thrown. Frustrated, he couldn’t see any sign of his brother. Then, he heard it...a faint moaning sound. It came from across the road. His brother had been tossed all the way across to the beach side of the road. At first, Led thought that this was a fortunate turn of event since the sand would have made a lot softer landing than being slammed into the rocky cliff. As he approached his brother, his first thought was nullified. He was horrified. His brother’s body was a mangled mess. Tony had initially hit the paved road and rolled several times before, like a beach ball, he bounced onto the sandy shoreline.

  Led knelt beside his brother. Tears filled his eyes. A sob stuttered in his throat. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to help his brother. He didn’t know first aid; he didn’t know CPR; he didn’t know any life saving skills. He didn’t have any idea of what would help or hurt his one and only, dying brother.

  That was the fateful moment in Led’s life. Helplessly watching his brother die in agony, he vowed he would learn how to save lives. He would become someone who possessed the skills and knowledge to help injured people cling to life. This would become Led’s obsession, his pay back, to make up for the unbearable guilt of standing by and hopelessly watching, Tony, his one and only brother, die. Led, irrationally, laid the ultimate blame upon himself.

  Led became the ultimate survivor after his brother’s death by looking to future training in life saving skills. Led found acceptance of Tony’s death through embracing his commitment as a firefighter and an EMT specialist. Each time Led contributed needed assistance on a fire scene or employed his skills at an accident site, he found a semblance of peace and forgiveness. Never again would Led Daley simply let someone die as he helplessly watched. Once was enough.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Chief Inspector Sanjay Mehta stepped off the tender boat and made his way up the ladder heading directly to his office. He needed to change back into his official uniform after his incognito foray into George Town.

  Headlining as the first item on his
official agenda was to call Captain Peggy Hurley for an appointment, ASAP. He had a lot of explaining to do to the Master of the Caribbean Star concerning the intrigue involving several of her passengers. As chief of security, Sanjay owned an enormous degree of responsibility as to why he hadn’t been more aware of the developing, make that, now developed, embarrassing situation.

  Second on his list was the real bombshell since it entailed elucidating how and why the inclusion of the CIA agents in the whole affair was necessary. He would have to dance the fandango around what facts he could reveal and what he was required to keep confidential. The CIA agents required that he swear an oath of secrecy due to the extreme sensitivity of the matter; a matter possibly even jeopardizing national security.

  Times like these especially triggered bouts of anxiety in Sanjay in light of his approaching retirement. He worried that any misstep, real or perceived, could cause an on the spot demotion relieving him from his position as the Chief of Security or, worse case scenario, the immediate termination of his employment with Royal Danish cruise lines. Sanjay tapped on the Captain’s cabin door with uncharacteristic timidity.

  “Murder and the CIA!” Captain Hurley exclaimed with a rare loss of composure. “This is only a weekend cruise. How could this become so complicated in such a short period of time?” She wanted answers, now, and plenty of them.

  Sanjay didn’t have many answers. When he was trotted along with Constable Brookstone back to the precinct headquarters, he was invited into a highly confidential briefing by the newly arrived CIA agents. In a nutshell, the agents, Carrington and Cartwright, sounding more like the name of a Philadelphia law firm, spelled out with less than full disclosure a convoluted operation, the investigation of which they had been caught up with for two years. It boiled down to the stealing and smuggling of intellectual properties from USA corporations, some of which were contracted by the Pentagon for missile and other defense weapons. Then the crooks delivered the merchandise to a sophisticated gang of thieves in Hong Kong known as the Triad. For their financial gain, they placed the properties on the market to the highest bidder in several Asian nations; hostile to the well being of the USA; thus the possibility of a threat to national security.

  The admission ticket which gained the Chief Inspector a pass into the inner sanctum of the investigation was purchased with the turning over of the package which he had retrieved so slyly from the trash can outside the dive shop restroom. Carrington and Cartwright were duly impressed with Mehta’s ingenuity and congratulated the Chief. At the same time, they warned him about divulging any of the details to anyone outside the briefing room.

  “So, if I understand you correctly, Chief, we are embroiled in a gruesome murder along with an international intrigue involving the smuggling of proprietary intellectual properties which could, potentially, undermine the national security of the United States?” Captain Hurley pushed back in her high back executive style leather bound chair as she tapped her teeth with her Royal Danish furnished ballpoint pen.

  “Yes, Ma’am, you have summed it up quite well. We are, indeed, in a fine kettle of fish, as they would say in the old Laurel and Hardy films.” Sanjay’s head lowered as he attempted to put one watt of light humor into the gloomy subject. In truth, he was making a subtle argument to win the Captain’s leniency. She most likely held a perception of failure by her Chief of Security for not catching this whole business before it reached this extremely embarrassing level for the company...not forgetting the mark against her leadership and oversight as Master of the Caribbean Star.

  “Another question, Captain. Has there been any discussion or decision made about when the ship will set sail from George Town? I need to plot my investigation against the amount of time I have here on the island.”

  “At this moment, I would say that we will leave Grand Cayman at noon tomorrow.” Captain Hurley let out a dramatic sigh. “Sanjay, not to add to your concerns with any further mysterious goings on, but I need to tell you this. I had a visit earlier today from another of our guests on board this cruise. Since you had informed me of your hunch and that you would be leaving the ship, I knew you weren’t available to join us. The good news is that, following your hunch, you discovered the plot in which we are sorely involved; the bad news, regretfully, is that the plot is thickening. Now, we have a full blown whodunit situation placed in our laps.”

  “A visitor? May I inquire as to whom it was, Captain?” Sanjay’s face betrayed deep distress at the mounting depth of the seriousness of this case.

  “Let’s just say, for now, that it was a male and that he is involved with the printing business; at least, as far as everyone is aware from the appearance of things. I’m to meet with him later tonight at dinner. I invited him to the Captain’s table. I’d like you to join us for dinner, also. Would that be possible, Sanjay?” Captain Hurley looked intently at the Chief of her security, a wisp of a smile on her face.

  “Of course, Peggy. I’m sure that I can make that happen.”

  Peggy and Sanjay had a history. They were more than contemporary shipmates. Both had worked together on another ship of the Royal Danish cruise flotilla. Due to a rather unique set of circumstances, the bond of their working together had matured from the usual respect for each other’s abilities into a personal association. Peggy had worked herself up to the position of a bridge officer, then First Officer and, finally, Staff Captain. She didn’t want to stop there as she had a strong desire to become the Master of a ship. Accomplishing that would be a distinction rarely found in the predominately male bastion of sailing history.

  She had a wee bit of a problem, though. Following a evening of merry making, having imbibed a gallon more of grog than recommended, she found herself waking up in the bed of a crew member...a rather senior member of the dining room staff...the Maitre ‘d of the ship. She rebuffed any further advances and the Maitre ‘d’s ego was stung. In a fit of revenge, he began to stalk her and ultimately threatened her with going to the higher ups. This would have meant instant loss of any chance for further promotion and possibly even termination of her employment with Royal Danish cruise lines. One small indiscretion with the Maitre ‘d...one huge price to pay for the Staff Captain.

  Into this dicey picture of low life drama entered Sanjay Mehta, a junior member of the security force aboard Peggy’s ship. Having a few drinks together one night in the crew bar, the Maitre ‘d became inebriated enough to let his guard down about the shady affair. Thinking that he would win an ally for himself, he gave into his shriveled male ego and he unloaded the whole dirty business to Sanjay.

  Being the true gentleman which Sanjay certainly was...after the bar closed...to save the honor of a violated lady in distress...before retiring...wishing to get a breath of fresh air at the stern of the ship while the ship was forging ahead at full speed...marking that his drinking mate was in such turmoil...Sanjay helped the Maitre ‘d to climb the rail and jump overboard. What a tragedy.

  Peggy was informed of the sad accident the following morning. Years later when she became the Master of the Caribbean Star, she invited the Chief Inspector of Security of the North Star, Sanjay Mehta, to take that same position on her ship. Peggy Hurley forgot about the villain, but remembered her hero. The rescued woman had an interesting, if not somewhat of a flawed, memory.

  The Staff Captain finished up with the evening report; the orders were set on the bridge for the night watch. Dinner at the Captain’s table would go down at 2030, the late seating. Captain Peggy Hurley, dressed in her formal uniform, arrived at the Deck Five main dining room on the dot, in spite of the several spates of forced glad handing with the guests. Cruise guests never failed to be impressed with a sighting of the Captain, going ape akin to seeing a vision of Lady GaGa.

  The circular table, positioned dead center on the first deck of the three storied dining room, was lavishly decorated with the official place settings and silver service emblazoned with the RDC crest. A huge bowl of fresh cut flowers were prominently dis
played in the center of the table. The coup de grace hung over the table. A gloriously monstrous sparkling glass chandelier, brilliantly lit. The table, able to seat twelve, fell only three diners short which made for a more intimate dinner for nine.

  Besides the last to be invited by the Captain, Chief Inspector Sanjay Mehta, four of the other five chairs sported notables from among the guest list: Father Lucky Harris and Led Daley, Samantha Simmons and Rex Riddle, plus, to one and all except the Captain, three totally unexpected guests, one who amply filled the fifth chair between the Captain and the Chief Inspector, Mr. Wilbur Conners.

  The other two were a couple soon to be introduced as the Cromwell’s, George and Elaine, friends of Father Lucky. Unusual to allow non-cruise guests on board, but Father Lucky had prevailed upon the Captain’s good graces to invite them since the Cromwell’s had been such an intimate part of the afternoon’s tragedy.

  “Good evening, everyone. I’m delighted that you could all find the time to accept my invitation to dine with me tonight. I’d like to welcome as our guests from the island, Mr. and Mrs. Cromwell. Welcome aboard! Now, please, let’s get to know one another better.”

  The Captain, ever gracious, splendidly suited for the Royal Danish cruise lines premier public relations’ position, began the round table conversation with a story about her scariest day on the high seas. She had everyone enthralled with the sea story, a tale of adventure that could easily have matched the swashbuckling days of yore.

  The other surprise guest, indeed, especially to Samantha and Rex, was,the Editor-in-Chief of the Deco BeachWeekly. How did this all come about? What in the Caribbean was he doing on this cruise? Things were not adding up, especially to his employed reporters who shared a vested interest in submitting a cruise critique to be blindly judged by an impartial third person. With the editor being a fellow cruiser, he would surely have his own subjective view of the experience. Now the second guessing began as to how he felt about the cruise so that Samantha and Rex could align their reviews along Conner’s feeling.