Dark Passage (23 page)

‘I don't think you need to worry. David Warren told me that the Westfalls almost always eat at the second seating, so I think we're good to go.'

‘Julie!' her mother called. ‘Ju-lee!'

Julie yanked out her earbuds. ‘What?'

‘If you ran into Jack Westfall, what would you do?' her mother asked.

Julie puffed air out through her lips. ‘Walk right past and pretend like I don't know him, of course. Duh. You think I'm one of those “ooooh ooooh something's making a noise out in the woods so let's go see what it is” kind of bimbos?'

Georgina sighed. ‘Fourteen going on twenty.'

‘I'm afraid so.'

Back in the cabin I shared with Ruth, I called David's stateroom and left a message that I needed to see him. I asked the operator to connect me to Buck Carney's cabin, too, but he didn't pick up either, so I hung up, figuring he'd be easy enough to track down. With the focus now on Jack, I was hoping Carney had taken some pictures at Breakers! that could help us where the security cameras had failed. I also needed to telephone my husband and bring him up to speed.

Until
Islander
entered the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay at Norfolk later that evening, cell phone reception was simply a fantasy. We could have Skyped from the library, of course, but then everyone within earshot would have overheard the conversation – both sides.

After discussing a plan of action with my sisters, I used the cabin phone to telephone Paul.

‘Sweetheart! I was hoping you'd call.' He sounded so cheerful, I hated to burst the bubble.

I twisted the telephone cord around my finger, trying to calm my nerves. ‘Not sure you'll be so happy when you hear what I have to say.'

‘What's happened? Is everyone OK?'

‘Sort of,' I told him. ‘Do you have a piece of paper and something to write with?'

While Paul grunted, cursed, ranted and raved, using words of power I didn't even know were in his vocabulary, I filled him in on the previous twenty-four hours. Then I told him what we wanted him to do.

After I hung up, with reassurances from him that everything would be OK, Ruth checked in with Hutch. Hutch agreed to cancel his appointments for the day, swing by to pick up Paul and drive up to Baltimore where they would bring Scott into the picture.

I imagined the pow-wow: a tenured college professor, a prominent attorney and a well-respected C.P.A. The F.B.I. would never know what hit them.

When David Warren returned my call he asked to meet me in Athena, the casino bar. Hoping it wasn't smoking hour at the slot machines, I agreed. When I arrived, he was sitting on one of the banquettes near the window. A glass of white wine sat waiting for me on the coffee table. ‘That was thoughtful,' I said as I sat down next to him.

As I predicted, he expressed no surprise over Martin's reluctance to clap Westfall in irons and perform a thorough search of his cabin.

Knowing that his main concern was not Julie or Noelle, who had survived, but to avenge the murder of his daughter, who had not, I said gently, ‘But, surely you can turn this information over to the F.B.I. agent working your daughter's case. It has to be relevant.'

‘There is no case,' he said sadly. ‘Charlotte's death was ruled accidental, possibly suicide. Case closed. And Westfall will never confess to it.'

‘But they
can
nab him for kidnapping Julie, and maybe pin Noelle's rape on him, too. He could go away for a long, long time. That would be better than nothing.'

‘I've lost my daughter, Hannah. I've lost my wife. I've spent the last year of my life trying to get justice for Charlotte, and I'm not going to stop now.'

While I considered what David had just said, I twirled the wine glass slowly in my hands, admiring how the multicolored lights of the casino shape-shifted in the condensation. Justice! Justice for Charlotte had been David's all-consuming purpose. Together we'd tracked down her killer – and found Julie and Noelle's attacker, too. It wasn't perfect justice where Charlotte was concerned, for sure, but I prayed David would settle for that and move on with his life.

‘The sensible thing is leave it to the F.B.I.,' I said at last. ‘My sisters and I have decided we have no choice but to do that.' I explained about the troika of fuming father/uncles that would be descending on the Baltimore field office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation like enraged bulls. ‘I figure you know that's the sensible thing to do, too. But, if you have something else in mind, please, tell me how I can help.'

David considered me over the rim of his martini glass. ‘Do you know how to get rats out of your drainpipes, Hannah?'

I smiled. ‘Call the Orkin man?'

David actually laughed. ‘No, you flush them out.'

‘ “Where the river Weser, deep and wide, washes its walls on the southern side …” I quoted.

His dark eyes gleamed with a spark of recognition, but perhaps it was simply a reflection of the casino lights. He leaned back and sipped his drink appreciatively. ‘Ah, yes. “The Pied Piper of Hamelin.” '

I could have bitten off my tongue. I'd forgotten that when the Pied Piper wasn't paid for getting rid of the town rats, he'd used his magic pipe to lure their children away, never to return. ‘I know the poem by heart,' I told him, hastening to change the subject. “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” too. Shall I recite it for you?'

David chuckled. ‘ “The very deep did rot: O' Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs, upon the slimy sea.” ' He winked, raised his glass. ‘Thank you, Sister Mary Carmelina at Sacred Heart Academy, may your soul rest in peace!'

‘So, David,' I asked after a bit. ‘How do you now plan to lure this particular sea-going rat out into the open?'

He took a deep breath and exhaled. ‘I wasn't on the
Voyager
and neither were you, Hannah. We've got to make Westfall believe that somebody has finally put two and two together. That somebody has twigged to what he's been up to.'

I was pretty sure I knew where David was going with this. ‘Pia Fanucci.'

‘Exactly. Pia holds the key to everything. She's the only person among the crew that I think we can trust.'

I set my glass down, swiveled in my seat to face him. ‘Do you think that's wise, David? Things didn't turn out too well for poor Charlotte. Pia could be – no, make that
would
be – putting herself in danger. You'd never forgive yourself if something happened to her, and, frankly, neither would I. I've grown very fond of that girl.'

David nodded. ‘I know. It's a dilemma.'

‘What do you expect her to do, David? Send Westfall a note like in that old movie, “I Saw What You Did! And I Know Who You Are”?'

‘Something like that, except I think it'd be more compelling if Westfall believes that Pia might be amenable to a little financial compensation.'

I sank back against the cushions. ‘Oh, what a good idea!' I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

David stiffened his back. ‘No, no, I think it might work. What if Pia tells him that she has written everything down in a letter, and she's mailed it to her sister with instructions that should anything happen to her … blah blah blah.'

You'd have to be a fan of grade B movies to come up with that sort of lame brain plan. Still, I could tell from the expression on his face that he was deadly serious about it. ‘Even so,' I said, ‘it could be risky.'

‘I think Pia should make that decision, don't you, Hannah? Where would we find her right now?'

I knew the answer to that question. ‘She's got a show tonight, so she should be backstage with Channing, getting ready.'

David set his empty martini glass down and started to get up. ‘Shall we go talk to her, then?'

I laid a restraining hand on his arm. ‘Why don't you let me talk to her? Then, if she's willing, we three can put our heads together and come up with a safe and workable plan.'

When we stood up, I asked, ‘Do you intend to tell Officer Martin?'

David laughed. ‘He'd never sanction such a thing. If this is going to work, we'll need to do it on our own.'

‘The end of all magic is to feed with mystery the human mind, which dearly loves mystery.'

Harry Kellar (1849–1922)

I
t was a short hike from the Athena bar to the Orpheus Theater located on the same deck in the bow of the enormous vessel.

Pia was backstage, as I had predicted. She sat on a straight-back chair, surrounded by Channing's illusions, using a needle and thread to sew up the tear in the leg of her yellow harem pants. ‘Just now getting around to it,' she said, drawing the thread to her mouth and cutting it with her teeth. She held the pants up for my inspection. ‘Do you think anybody will notice?'

‘Don't you have costume people to do that?' I asked.

‘Oh, sure, they'll make me a whole new costume eventually, but I'm partial to this one.' She stroked the fabric as if it were an old friend, folded it carefully, then placed it in a small bin that had her name on it: Fanucci.

‘Channing's working on the new illusion,' she told me. ‘Come see.'

Pia picked up her costume bin and tucked it under her arm. She held aside a curtain until I had passed through, then escorted me down a short, narrow corridor to a room full of oddly shaped items covered in plastic sheeting. In the corner stood a beach umbrella, a suit of armor and a life-sized giraffe.

Pia waved vaguely, taking in the whole room. ‘Props.'

‘Is Channing going to be introducing the new illusion at the magic show tonight?' I asked as we circumnavigated a gaily painted wheelbarrow.

‘Sorry, no, it's not quite ready. We should be rolling it out in a couple of weeks, on the next Baltimore-Bermuda trip.' She gave me a lopsided smile. ‘I'm sorry you'll miss it.'

I leaned close to her ear. ‘Maybe I'll just have to stowaway, then!'

Channing was working on the far side of the room, hunched over his Plexiglas cylinders. From where I stood, I could see that the propeller had already been installed about midway inside the apparatus. It looked high-techedly wicked, like something SPECTRE would design to extract secrets out of James Bond.

When Tom noticed us, he straightened and grinned, wiping his hands clean on his jeans. ‘Hannah, good to see you. Did Pia tell you? We've decided to call it The Turbine of Terror.'

‘I can't wait,' I said. ‘How do you get the water to it? I presume there's water.'

‘Yes, there's water. There's this little gizmo …' He made a twisting motion, as if turning a doorknob. ‘Better yet, come back in a few days and I'll show you.'

‘Alas, in a few days I'll be back home, trying to get caught up with my email.'

Channing slapped his forehead. ‘Of course. When one's on a ship for so long, you sometimes lose track of what day it is.'

‘Tom is exploring the possibility of debuting the illusion outside on the trampoline deck. I think that would be awesome, don't you?'

I had to agree that it would.

‘Tom,' I asked after a moment. ‘Can I ask you a question?'

He looked up from a screw he was tightening with his fingers. ‘Sure.'

‘When you were performing those card tricks for the kids in Breakers! the other day, did you notice anyone hanging around, acting suspicious?'

‘The afternoon your niece disappeared, you mean?'

I nodded.

‘Sorry, Hannah. Even though I've been doing it for years, sleight of hand requires intense concentration. I didn't notice anything much beyond the deck of cards in front of me.'

‘Just thought I'd ask.'

‘And I don't believe I've ever been introduced to your niece,' he added. ‘I don't even know what she looks like, I'm afraid.'

‘Oh, right.' I felt pretty stupid. Julie had only been present in the crowd at one of his shows. How on earth would Tom recognize her, not to mention know if any lowlifes had been hanging around her?

Channing fished a screwdriver out of his back pocket and seemed eager to get back to work, so I said, ‘Can I borrow Pia for a few minutes? There's something I'd like to talk to her about.'

‘Be my guest. We're all set for tonight.'

Pia and I left the theater, walked through the casino and out on deck. A fierce wind lifted my hair and roared hotly across my ears. We strolled aft, with no particular destination in mind, while I told Pia what David and I had discovered about Jack Westfall. She listened carefully, not asking any questions, only asking for repeats when the wind tore my words away.

When we reached the cage-like barrier that led to a crew-only section of the ship, we reversed direction, stopping at one point to lean against the rail and stare out at the water.

‘Every time I stand here,' Pia said, her voice breaking, ‘I think of Char, floundering all alone in the middle of the Caribbean.' A tear rolled down her cheek, but was dried almost instantly by the wind. ‘You'll think I'm a horrible person for saying this, but I have often prayed that she was dead before she went over.'

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, faced into the wind with her head tipped back. ‘I just love the sea. How can such an evil thing happen in such a beautiful place?'

I scooted over, until our forearms were touching where they rested on the rail. ‘It's sad, really. David is convinced that because of the passage of time and the lack of evidence, he'll never get justice for his daughter.'

‘I like the guy,' Pia said, ‘but what a sad case.'

‘My sisters and I feel pretty certain that the F.B.I. can nail Westfall for Julie's abduction.' I counted them off on my fingers. ‘There's whatever physical evidence Officer Martin was able to collect when Julie was examined, Julie's positive identification, as well as the testimony that Kira will be able to provide.' I told Pia that we hoped the F.B.I. would meet the ship in the morning, armed with a proper search warrant in order to give Jack Westfall's cabin a thorough going-over. ‘Julie's father should be talking to the F.B.I. now, in fact, along with my husband and Julie's other uncle.'