Chapter 26
Absolutely everyone is avoiding me. The whole of the dining area is full of guests chatting away, the music is playing, Astrid and Tiffany are serving drinks as though everything is normal.
The chefs have brought up an exciting array of platters – almost as if they are showing off in front of the policemen, some of whom are mingling with guests as though they are family members, while the others take turns to systematically search all of the cabins.
All while Shaun and I run around like lunatics serving the self-service lunch to them.
Shaun throws me an apron and tells me to set more tables.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to remind him that he’s not the boss, but I’d rather keep the peace.
He seems genuinely shocked that Garry is missing, that life is not always a party, that his life does not consist of one shag after another in various storage cupboards.
I wrap the apron around me, instinctively reaching into the front pocket to pull out the lump, wrapped in a napkin, that’s in there.
‘What’s that?’ Shaun asks.
I shrug. ‘I don’t know.’ I unwrap the napkin and hold the metal object up to the light to get a better view.
‘Is that Garry’s Rolex? It is! It’s Garry’s Rolex!’ he exclaims loudly enough to alert the authorities in all eight of Turkey’s neighbouring countries.
‘Is it?’ I squeal, dropping it to the floor along with, presumably, my fingerprints now all over it.
‘What’s it doing in your apron?’
‘It’s not my apron! You just gave me this apron a few seconds ago.’
‘Well, it’s not my apron,’ says Shaun defensively, watching me with alarm as I hurriedly untie it and toss it back to him.
He leaps backwards, flinging his arms in the air as though I’ve thrown him a hand grenade. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Giving it back to you. What does it look like?’
‘You’re trying to frame me!’ he yells.
‘No, I’m not. Frame you for what? Crimes against workwear?’ Shaun is going on ridiculous. ‘Calm down. It’s just an apron.’
A policeman appears from nowhere and swoops to the floor, picking up the Rolex, the crinkled napkin and the apron. He turns his inquisitive stare to each of us in turn. Shaun is the first to point the finger. ‘It’s hers.’
Oh. My. God.
‘No. It isn’t.’
A loud ‘ahem’ and a tingle down my spine (because I have developed a sixth sense) alerts me to the presence of Jackson. He leans towards me and says in a pleading voice, ‘What part of “whatever you do, don’t draw attention to yourself” did you not understand?’
‘Clearly none of it,’ I snap. I’m exhausted. Simply exhausted. I step away from him. ‘And what part of “let’s be distant and cold to each other” do you not understand?’
He bristles instantly at the clear sarcasm in my tone. ‘Can somebody just tell me what is going on?’ For an Australian he can be quite short tempered.
Shaun’s response is to stand with his head tilted upwards at a forty-five-degree angle, his hands clamped to his hips and his feet wide apart like a Butlins cabaret singer about to deliver his final showtune.
We watch him take a beat before he resumes his glowering as though I am somehow to blame for him giving me the apron. ‘Ask her.’
Sighing inwardly, I point to the watch in the policeman’s hand.
‘That looks like Garry’s over-priced Rolex and that must be the apron he was going to wear for the Where’s My Shoe?
game today, or was it yesterday? I have no concept of time on this bloody boat.
One day is blurring into the next.’ I rub my hands down my face.
‘I’m going stir crazy. I’m not cut out for a life at sea. ’
‘Please stop talking, Maddie,’ Jackson says tightly, jerking his head towards the policeman who thankfully is busy inspecting the watch, biting the solid gold strap between his teeth and checking the dial for signs of authenticity that Emir told me about – it will be etched with a Rolex crown logo.
I scan the immediate area for Emir, wondering if he had anything to do with it.
I spot him sitting with his mother and grandmother.
They are not looking very happy. Emir catches my eye and pulls a face in the direction of the policeman, who has turned his attention to the napkin and is inspecting it.
I inwardly groan as he marches straight towards us holding it out. ‘What is this?’ He waves it at me before giving it to Jackson, who turns it this way and that. ‘It has a sort of secret code on it.’
This is going to look so bad.
‘No, it doesn’t,’ I say, recognising my own handwriting on the napkin.
‘Cross-Check. Decoy. Desperado Sacrifice. What can that mean?’ Jackson looks at the policeman, flummoxed. It’s as though I’m invisible all of a sudden as I watch the men huddle together.
‘It’s some sort of plan!’ deduces Shaun, grabbing it from Jackson and holding it aloft.
‘It’s obvious, innit? Checking the coast is clear.
Sending a decoy in to lure Garry away. And then a cold-blooded sacrifice sending him to the icy depths of the ocean.
This is how the killer planned to murder the victim,’ he says, flicking the napkin dramatically back and forth.
‘All we need to do is match the handwriting to someone on the boat, and we catch the culprit.’ It’s like he’s starring in his very own whodunnit.
He’s waving the napkin about as though it’s a flag and not primary evidence.
‘Hmmm,’ ponders Jackson. ‘And how are you linking the napkin and these words to the Rolex and the missing person? What’s the through line?’
‘The through and the what now?’ Shaun knits his eyebrows together.
‘What’s the link? The motive? What do the words actually mean?’ Jackson asks. ‘Who was the napkin intended for?’
‘Um, well…’ Shaun is rapidly losing confidence in the face of Jackson, who seems more expert in these matters than all of us put together.
‘Are you suggesting we are looking for an accomplice? Multiple motives?’
Shaun opens and closes his mouth several times before giving up and handing the napkin back to Jackson. He has gone up against an alpha male, lost spectacularly and will now have to do the walk of shame back to the bar to continue serving drinks and being useful.
Throughout this exchange of words, I’m deeply perturbed to see the policeman is screwing his eyes at me, watching my reactions attentively, waiting for me to reveal my guilt.
I feel sick to my stomach. ‘Okay,’ I say, holding up my hands. ‘I can explain, but please don’t leap to conclusions.’
Jackson rolls his eyes as he exhales audibly. I don’t appear to be making his job any easier.
‘They’re chess moves. The writing is mine. It’s an old napkin from the other day when I was playing chess with Emir.’ I omit that it was when I was playing chess with Emir and Mehmet. I feel that may complicate matters.
‘Okay. Fine. Fair enough. It doesn’t explain why it is now being used to wrap up a potentially fake Rolex watch.’
‘Not fake!’ shouts the policeman, regarding me suspiciously before whipping the napkin back from Jackson and marching away to fetch his colleague.
‘Ask Emir if he had anything to do with the watch turning up in the apron,’ I whisper to Jackson, stepping back towards him. ‘It’ll look too suspicious if I go over.’
He whispers back, his breath tickling my ear, sending sparks shooting down my arms and the hairs to stand on end, ‘Care to explain why?’
‘Because he may have stolen it. He stole all the other jewellery. Plus, he did want revenge on Garry for being mean, didn’t he?’
Jackson expels another delicious current of electricity down my spine before moving away from me. I watch him approach Emir and his family. They greet him warmly as Emir introduces him enthusiastically. Emir stops every now and then to look my way and wave.
‘Back to work!’ booms Shaun, obviously disgruntled that his attempt to discredit me and solve the case has not come to anything concrete just yet.
Rather than try to convince him otherwise, I get busy serving a whole array of sweet treats, baklava and Turkish delights of every flavour and colour.
At least it is distracting the guests from the fact that we may be stranded at sea unless Garry turns up soon.
* * *
Finally, after what seems like hours of staying out of the way, Jackson and the captain come to find me down in the kitchen, reloading skewers of sizzling meat kebabs onto hotplates. I’m nothing short of a sweaty mess.
‘I have news,’ Jackson says, a serious look on his face.
My stomach drops, causing me to flop against the bench in defeat.
I’m going to jail for a crime I didn’t commit.
It’s my mother’s worst nightmare coming true.
She warned me. And I didn’t listen. Suddenly, I feel a searing heat sensation in my hip.
I yelp, leaping away from the hotplate, causing the tray of skewers that one of the chefs is holding to slip from his grasp.
We watch it clatter to the floor, meat splatting everywhere. He lets out an almighty barrage of what I assume are swear words.
‘Come on. Let’s get out of here,’ says Jackson. ‘We need to speak to you urgently.’
The captain hurries us to his quarters and shuts the door, standing guard as though I might try to escape. And go where? Swim the twenty miles to Greece?
‘The police have finished their checks of the cabins and their interviews with the guests and the remaining staff,’ the captain informs me. ‘Your cabin was very interesting.’
‘I can explain everything—’ I say, but Jackson cuts me off.
‘They didn’t find anything.’
‘But the jewellery, the money, the gold chains and bracelets? At least tell me they found all the evidence of Garry overcharging, the receipts and ledgers?’
‘Nothing at all. Even though Tiffany also testified that she saw you stuffing money in your drawer, it was empty.’
‘But the police do want to know why all of your clothes were packed and ready to go.’ The captain frowns. ‘As if you intended to leave the boat tonight. This looks very suspicious, no?’