“Indeed?” the captain asked, his bushy eyebrows rising withconcern.
“Yes, her name is Audrey Bolton. She’s very upset by the delaysin our journey.”
The captain let out a grunt of dismay.
“I can’t say I blame her,” he said. “I’m quite upset about itmyself. I’m surprised more passengers aren’t complaining. I only wish there wassomething I could do about it.”
London shrugged slightly.
“Well, Ms. Bolton has a suggestion,” she said.
“Really?” said the captain.
“Actually, it’s more than a suggestion. It’s more like a demand.”
“I’m always keen on fulfilling passengers’ demands. Tell me aboutit.”
“She insists that we skip our stop in Bamberg. Her instructionsare to sail straight on nonstop to Amsterdam.”
Captain Hays drew himself up with surprise.
“What! Skip Bamberg?”
Then he added in a mock earnest tone, “A sweeping demand. And yetI suppose it would put us back on schedule. What is that motto of yours,London?”
“‘The customer may not always be right, but the customer isalways the customer.’”
“Words to live by. Well, I’ll give new instructions to the pilot,then get right on the intercom and tell all the passengers and crew that we arefollowing the explicit orders of … what was her name again?”
“Audrey Bolton.”
“The orders of Ms. Audrey Bolton, and we’re canceling ourscheduled overnight stay in Bamberg. I’m sure no one will object. After all,orders are orders, and the orders of Ms. Audrey Bolton must be obeyed. In fact,we’ll power up the engines and sail past Bamberg as fast as possible, atrecord-breaking speed.”
The captain’s straight-faced delivery didn’t hide his mockery ofthe idea.
“Well, I promised her I’d tell you, and I did,” London said.
“Well done, London Rose,” he said, finally yielding up a chuckle.
“Seriously, Captain,” London said. “I’m sure she’s not going todrop this. What do you want me to tell her when she mentions it again?”
“Tell her to bring it to me personally,” the captain said.
“I’ll do that,” London said.
“Jolly good!”
The captain finished his tonic water, then looked at his watchand got up from his barstool.
“Well, it’s time for me to make my tipsy way back to the bridge,”he said to London. “Enjoy your evening.”
“I’ll do that, sir,” London replied.
The captain stopped for a moment to listen to Letitia, who hadjust begun a lovely and surprisingly sensual interpretation of Cole Porter’s “I’veGot You Under My Skin.”
“Delightful singer,” Captain Hays murmured with a smile. “Charmingwoman.”
London smiled. She figured it was just as well that the captaindidn’t know about Letitia’s penchant for minor theft. Then he made his waytoward the exit, walking, of course, with a perfectly sober stride.
Looking over the room, London saw that even Bob Turner’s lipswere turned up in a smile. He was enjoying the performance in spite of himself.
Then she turned back to Elsie and said, “I’m starving.”
“Would you like to order something from the restaurant?” Elsieasked. “I hear the head chef is not only a culinary genius but also a gorgeoushunk of an Australian.”
London couldn’t help blushing a little. Elsie had picked up onher attraction to the handsome Bryce Yeaton almost before she’d become aware ofit herself.
“A sandwich would be nice. What do you recommend?”
“Since we’re now in Germany, how about something of thatnationality? A little while ago I had a delicious Leberkässemmel. Ihighly recommend it.”
London laughed.
“I’ve got no idea what that is,” she said.
“Trust me, you’ll like it.”
“All right, that’s what I’ll have,” she told Elsie.
As Elsie texted the order down to the Habsburg Restaurant, Londonsaw that Amy Blassingame was still sitting alone looking out that window. Shewas finishing what looked like a daiquiri.
“Have you talked to Amy tonight?” London asked Elsie.
“Do you mean our infamous river troll?” Elsie said.
London cringed a little.
“I wish you wouldn’t call her that,” she said.
“Sorry. She just rubs me the wrong way. And admit it—she rubs youthe wrong way too.”
London couldn’t deny it, but she preferred not to say so.
Elsie continued, “And no, I haven’t talked to her much. She justover came to the bar a few minutes ago and ordered her daiquiri and stalkedaway to her table. She was pretty much monosyllabic.”
“She looks lonely,” London said to Elsie.
“Well, she doesn’t make it easy to be friends with her,” Elsiesaid.
Maybe that’s not entirely her fault, London thought. Sheknew that Amy was inclined to be abrasive, but perhaps that was because no onehad put much effort into making friends with her.
“I think I’ll go pay her a visit,” she said.
“London, that’s not going to end well,” Elsie said.
“How do you know?”
“From experience. Don’t you? She’ll snap your head off for noreason.”
London got up from her bar stool and picked up her drink. Shefelt that she should at least make a try at bridging the gap between them.
“I’ll have my sandwich at Amy’s table. Send it over with a nicecold German lager.”
“OK. And good luck.”
As London walked toward Amy’s table, she felt sure that theconcierge was definitely just pretending not to see her. And that didn’t bodewell.
Maybe Elsie was right, London thought.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
CHAPTER FOUR
When London stepped over to the small table where the conciergewas sitting, Amy just kept staring out the window. The young woman’s smooth helmet of short dark hair added to her severe,unwelcoming look, and London knew she wasn’t the only staff member to havetrouble getting along with her.
London stood there awkwardly for amoment, but Amy gave no sign of having noticed her.
“Hi, Amy,” London finally said.
Amy looked around with a rather unconvincing expression ofsurprise.
“Oh, it’s you,” she said. “Hello, London.”
Then Amy gazed back out the window again.
London stifled a sigh. Amy had resented London since before they’deven met, and not entirely without reason. Amy had been hoping to be hired asthe ship’s Social Director, and London had gotten the job instead. Thedaily pressures of working on a tour boat hadn’t brought them closertogether.
For that matter, neither had dealing with two murders.
It hasn’t been an easy trip for anybody, Londonthought.
“May I sit down?” she asked.
At first Amy looked as though she might say no. But then shegestured noncommittally to the empty chair at her table.
“The chair’s free,” she replied.
Feeling more uneasy by the second,
