“It’s kind of you to say so. And Idon’t want you to think that I’m beating myself up about all this. No one couldhave precisely anticipated people dying all over the place! Astrology isn’t anexact science, after all. But I didn’t become the businessman I am by not takingappropriate responsibility for my enterprises. I’m dealing with things in myusual pragmatic, realistic manner.”
Mr. Lapham sighed deeply again andcontinued.
“Meanwhile, I don’t want you toworry yourself unduly. The last thing I want you to do is go playing ‘NancyDrew’ again, like I ordered you to do back in Gyor. My Lord, I almost got youkilled! Let’s never make that mistake again. Crime-solving is what I hired BobTurner to do. And judging from what Bob told me about his cunning detectivework solving that murder in Salzburg, I made a wise choice.”
London managed to refrain fromlaughing.
Bob had certainly played a role incapturing the Austrian tour guide’s killer, and he’d even come to London’srescue when her life had been in danger. Still, “cunning detective work”? Thoseweren’t the words London would choose. But she was perfectly happy to let Bobclaim the credit for solving the mystery. And she’d rather not go playing “NancyDrew” again if she could possibly help it.
“Keep the passengers happy,” Mr.Lapham added. “That’s what you’re best at. And from what Captain Hays has toldme, you are very good at it indeed. I made a wise choice in hiring you.”
London felt a flood of relief.Thinking her job might be in danger had reminded her how much she actuallyloved working on this ship.
“Thank you, sir,” she said. “Ialways do my best not to disappoint you.”
The call ended, and London sat staring at the computer screen.
Astrology? she wondered.
It didn’t sound like Mr. Lapham was really dealing with thecurrent issues in a “pragmatic, realistic manner.”
But what do I know?
She’d really never given astrology a lot of thought or attention,so she figured maybe she shouldn’t jump to judgment.
For all I know, maybe there’s something to it. Maybe there’s alot to it.
Something else Mr. Lapham said rattled through her mind.
“The last thing I want you todo is go playing ‘Nancy Drew’ again.”
Although she had to admit that she’dgotten some thrills out of investigating two murders, she didn’t look forwardto plunging into another case. But she wondered—did she have any choice,especially since Detektiv Erlich had reason to suspect her? Surely the policewould clear her of suspicion pretty soon …
Or will they?
Could she really leave theinvestigation entirely to the local police—and to Bob Turner?
She shuddered at the very idea. IfBob got involved, his blundering ways might make things a whole lot worse. Shewondered whether he even had any idea what was going on. She hadn’t seen him orMr. Tedrow since well before the murder had happened. She guessed that they’dcome aboard the ship before she’d even found the body, and that Bob knew nomore about the murder than the passengers who had gotten the captain’sannouncement over the PA system.
And maybe that was just as well.Bob’s investigative skills left a lot to be desired. Her best hope was that thelocal police would clear things up quickly. Then maybe the Nachtmusikcould get back on schedule.
Then London reminded herself of what she’d been about to do justbefore she’d been ordered to video chat.
I’ve got to check in on Audrey Bolton.
Sir Reggie had apparently gotten bored during the chat. He wascurled up on the bed and didn’t look interested in going anywhere, so Londonleft the room alone. She walked up the spiral stairs to the Adagio deck andalong the passageway to Audrey’s apartment.
She knocked on the door but got no reply.
“Audrey, are you in there?” she called out.
“Yes,” came a voice from inside.
“May I come in?” London said.
“This is not a convenient time.”
London stood there for a moment feeling stymied.
“Uh, Audrey,” she finally said. “I assume you know that someonejust got killed at the festival.”
“Yes, the captain announced it.”
Audrey’s voice sounded tense and anxious.
“Do you know who got killed?” London asked.
A silence fell.
She doesn’t want to know, London realized.
Even so, London knew she had to tell her.
“Audrey, the victim was the man who spilled beer on us.Naturally, the police … well, they can’t help suspecting the two of us. I explainedeverything I could to Detektiv Erlich. But naturally he’s going to want to hearyour side of the story.”
There was another silence.
“I expect you’ll be hearing from him tomorrow,” London said.
“That’s fine,” Audrey said. “I will be prepared.”
London stood there wavering for a few moments.
“Audrey, can I come in?” she suggested again. “Maybe we couldtalk about what happened.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m really rather busy.”
London couldn’t think of anything else to say. It was gettinglate, and she figured she’d better make a final tour of the ship and see howpassengers were dealing with this new turn of events.
But as she continued on her way, she kept hearing what Audrey hadsaid about Herr Forstmann.
“I don’t think he’ll be rude to anyone from now on.”
Was it possible …?
No, London told herself. Surely not.
Don’t let your imagination run away with you.
She decided she’d pick up a sandwich as she made her rounds andreturn to her room to eat and settle in for the night.
She had no idea what tomorrow might bring, but she had a badfeeling that things were going to get worse before they got better.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Suddenly, the bottom of thethrone-like chair fell out from under London. Her paper crown fell off as sheslid down a chute and splashed head over heels into some pungent liquid.
Beer, she realized as the tastestung her tongue and nostrils.
She coughed and choked andthrashed her arms, but she was soon completely submerged. She kicked downward,but her feet didn’t hit the bottom.
She sensed that she was sinkingdeeper and deeper.
This isn’t the festival vat, sherealized, starting to panic.
It was something much deeper.
Maybe it’s a river …
… or a lake …
… or an ocean.
She thrashed harder and moredesperately as her throat filled up with beer.
London’s eyes snapped open whensomething cold nudged her cheek.
Sir Reggie had poked her with hisnose.
