Dead Calm (A Dylan Scott Mystery) (4 page)

“Isn’t that what families are for?”

Ruby laughed, an attractive sound that had several passengers glancing their way. “I suppose they are.” She finished her coffee and picked up her bag. “I’m going for a nightcap. Care to join me, Dylan?”

“I’d be honoured.”

They walked along the corridor to the now crowded bar. People were having to talk loudly to make themselves heard over the old Beatles tunes that were being played. It wasn’t Dylan’s kind of bar but it had one thing in its favour. It served drinks.

“Wasn’t the death of that poor woman awful?” Ruby said. “I saw her last night, you know. Of course, I didn’t know who she was at the time, but she certainly seemed healthy enough then. She was having a right old ding-dong with the chef in the kitchen.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and he’s an enormous chap, tall and broad. You’ll have seen him, Dylan. Shaved head with a tiny gold cross hanging from one ear. Well, she was tearing him off a strip. Mind you, he gave as good as he got. I thought they were about to come to blows.” She frowned. “I hope that wasn’t responsible for her death.”

“What were they arguing about?”

Ruby perched on a tall stool at the bar. “I’ve no idea. By the time I saw them, she was ranting in Norwegian and he was yelling at her to get the hell out of his kitchen. When she stormed out, he followed her for a few yards brandishing a huge meat cleaver. It was amusing at the time with him being so huge and threatening. It’s not funny now, of course.”

Trying to find Hanna Larsen’s killer—if indeed there was a killer—would be impossible. The woman had made enemies wherever she went.

“I hope I don’t pop my clogs on this ship,” Ruby said. “What a horrible way to go.”

“Someone else I was talking to thought it was a great way to go. He thought she would have died happy being on holiday.”

“That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose. I still hope my own demise isn’t imminent. I have too much to sort out before I shuffle off this mortal coil. Mind you, I’ve been saying that for years and I’m no further forward. I wonder if anyone has ever been ready for death.”

“Probably not.” He’d bet Hanna Larsen hadn’t been ready.

He remembered now where he’d heard Howard Jackson’s widow mentioned. About a year ago, she’d given five million pounds to a hospice in Yorkshire. There’d been a fuss about it because the donation was supposed to have been anonymous and, somehow, the press found out about it. It had warranted a few paragraphs on page four of one of the national newspapers.

Dylan wondered briefly what it must be like to be able to give the odd five million pounds to the charity of your choice. It was a feeling he’d never know. Broke was his middle name.

“I’d hate to have so many people gossiping about me when I’m dead too,” she said.

“Are they gossiping about Hanna Larsen?” He knew they were. People seemed unable to talk about anything else at the moment.

“I doubt much of it is based on fact,” she replied with a rueful smile. “Although she was known to quite a few people because she often travelled on this ship. She had family, a daughter someone said, in Tromsø and she used to visit her regularly. She wasn’t the only one to treat this ship like a taxi. Apparently, it’s quite common because it’s such a comfortable way to travel. Seeing this stunning coastline on a regular basis must be wonderful, mustn’t it?”

Dylan nodded. “She had heart problems, I heard.”

“Yes, I heard the same thing. Also, she wasn’t feeling well when she went to her cabin last night. She thought she’d eaten something that had disagreed with her. That’s probably why she was arguing with the chef.” The barman put Ruby’s gin and tonic in front of her and she took a sip. “I tend not to pay any attention to gossip. I find that, as soon as someone dies, everyone’s their best friend and knows their innermost thoughts.”

Dylan smiled at the truth of that.

A passenger’s mobile phone went off and Dylan checked the signal on his own. For the first time since boarding the ship, he had decent reception.

“I can think of few things worse than being in constant contact with the world,” Ruby said. “When Laura bought me a mobile phone, I thought it was a good idea. I’d always scoffed at the notion, but Laura said it would be useful in an emergency, and she reminded me, as she does on an almost daily basis, that I’m not getting any younger. I kept it switched on for about three days and it almost drove me insane. The thing didn’t stop ringing. And it was always when I was enjoying an afternoon doze or relaxing in the garden.”

“Ah, yes. They rarely ring at convenient times.”

“I do have it with me, just in case I need to call someone in an emergency, but it’s never switched on. I come on holiday to get away from the world. I don’t want to bring the world with me.”

“I see your point,” Dylan said, “but there are times when they can be lifesavers.”

Ruby wasn’t convinced. “You sound just like Laura. Oh, look. Ships that pass in the night.”

The
Midnight Sun
gave a blast of its horn to a ship that was lit up like a Christmas tree. The
Midnight Sun
would look equally dazzling to those passengers gazing into the darkness from the other vessel.

“What about you, Dylan? What brings you on this cruise? What do you do? No, let me guess.” She gave him a thorough appraisal. “Policeman?”

Sod it. Dylan hated it when people did that. He thought he’d shaken off the copper look.

“Very impressive. I used to be a detective sergeant,” he said. “I got kicked off the force.”

“Really? How exciting.” Her eyes shone with humour. “What for? Selling on the cocaine you seized? Sleeping with the chief constable’s wife?”

“Nothing as exciting, I’m afraid. I was arresting a known criminal and—well, to cut a long story short, I wound up in hospital and he claimed I used unreasonable force. They were having one of their clean-up sessions and wanted to show Joe Public that complaints about their officers were taken very seriously indeed. I spent five months behind bars for assault and was kicked off the force.”

“That’s awful.” She studied him for a few moments. “Are you bitter about it?”

He could say what he always said, that it was water under the bridge. “You bet your life I’m bitter, Ruby.”

She nodded, as if she’d expected nothing else. “So how do you fill your time these days?”

“I’m a private investigator.”

Again, her face lit up. “Now that is exciting. I bet you have all sorts of clever gadgets. Pens that are really recording devices. A gun disguised as a cigarette lighter. A car with number plates that change at the press of a button.”

Laughing, Dylan helped himself to peanuts. “You’re confusing me with James Bond.”

“But you must have some gadgets surely?”

“Nothing very exciting. I’ve only just got the hang of my computer.”

“Ah. I expect you’re more like Sherlock Holmes then.”

“Not even close, I’m afraid.”

Ruby’s chatter made him forget that he’d had no sleep and that everyone else on this ship was crazy. It didn’t stop him wondering if there was a killer in the crowded bar though.

Chapter Six

Back in the bar, chatting to Dylan Scott, Ruby had thought she’d be asleep as soon as her head touched her pillow. Now that her head was finally resting on the pillow, she was wide-awake. Awake and feeling completely out of sorts with life in general and her children in particular.

It didn’t seem so long ago that she’d stood outside her children’s junior school and shared jokes with the other young mothers about the first eighteen years being the worst. How wrong they’d been. The first eighteen years were easy. Children believed, deep down, that Mother always knew best. It was when they became adults that they decided Mother knew nothing and must be bossed around. All for her own good, of course.

The only problem she’d had with Tom and Laura when they were children was the constant quarrelling. Despite there only being a two-year age gap, they’d fought like tigers over the most trivial matters. They’d certainly never been close.

She sat up in bed, switched on the lamp and picked up her Joanna Trollope paperback. Perhaps reading about fictional families’ problems would take her mind off her own.

Her children believed they knew what was right for her, and they made her feel old. Old, out of touch and barely capable of making a decision for herself.

She’d promised herself she’d phone Laura this evening, but she hadn’t. She’d put it off until she was able to convince herself it was too late to disturb her. The truth was that she hadn’t been able to face it. Now, of course, she felt awful.

Perhaps she was turning into a cantankerous old woman. She loved Norway, adored cruising along its wonderful coastline and seeing the towering mountains and waterfalls that tumbled down for hundreds of metres. Laura had gone to the trouble of booking this cruise as a treat. Ruby should be thrilled to have such a thoughtful, considerate daughter instead of seeing it as bossiness.

It was good of Tom to give up time he could ill afford too. She knew he didn’t want to be here, knew he felt duty bound to accompany her on the annual trip, and so she felt bad about that.

Realising she’d read the same paragraph three times and not a single word had registered, she closed her book and slumped back against her pillow.

Tom was the real reason she felt out of sorts.

She hadn’t been too surprised when he’d asked her for money because hints had been flying her way for months. Perhaps he hadn’t been surprised when she’d refused.

Of course, she felt terrible about that too.

It wasn’t as if she couldn’t afford to help him. She simply didn’t believe it was the right thing to do for the long term. As she’d told Dylan Scott, Tom struggled to settle to anything and, to get the success he craved, he needed to be willing to put in the hard work. In her view, he wasn’t. He expected everything to land in his lap without any effort on his part. If she caved in and gave him money, he’d know that all he had to do was run to her every time he had a problem. He’d get nowhere in life. Part of her wanted to help him, as every mother wanted to help their child, but another part knew that she had to make him see the wisdom of standing on his own two feet. He was no longer a child.

It was going to be difficult for them to enjoy this cruise. She would spend the trip feeling guilty and Tom would feel aggrieved and annoyed with her.

She put down her book and searched through her bag for her phone. She must stop being so pessimistic. It wasn’t too late to phone Laura. It
was
kind of Laura to book this cruise and she should be more grateful.

She found Laura’s number and hit Call.

Laura answered almost immediately. “Mum, what a lovely surprise. I’d almost given up on you. I thought you might be tired after the sightseeing.”

“Your brother said exactly the same thing. I’m in fine fettle. I’ve had a wonderful day and a lovely evening chatting to some of the passengers. I thought I’d give you a quick call before I settled down.”

“I spoke to Tom,” Laura said, “and he was telling me that one of the passengers died. How awful. I thought it might have put a bit of a damper on everything.”

“A dreadful thing to happen, yes, and it must have been a shock for her family. But in a funny way, it’s given passengers something to talk about. A common interest.”

“It all sounds a bit morbid to me. I’m sorry it happened on your cruise. I so wanted everything to be perfect for you.”

“I’m having a wonderful time, darling. Truly. Everything all right with you?”

“Fine. I’ve been visiting Mrs. Blackman. I told you she was in hospital? That she’d broken her hip?”

“Yes. How is she?”

As Laura gave her an update on her neighbour’s health and treatment at the hands of the National Health Service, Ruby stifled a couple of yawns. She felt better for calling Laura, less guilty at any rate.

“By the way,” Laura said, “it was such a hassle driving down to your place last month that I decided to take the train this time. I’ve booked the tickets and I’ll be arriving on the Friday night and catching the train back on Sunday afternoon. That will be good, won’t it?”

“Friday? Which Friday?”

“The day after you get back. And I’ll want to hear all about your holiday.”

Ruby silently counted to ten. She’d assured both children that there was always a home for them with her if they needed it. And there was. What there wasn’t was a blasted hotel that they booked into whenever they felt the urge.

She wasn’t going to cause any unpleasantness but she had a childish urge to stamp her feet and tell the world she wanted to be alone.

“That will be nice, darling,” she said. “I don’t think I have anything planned for that weekend.”

“Good. Look, it’s getting late, Mum, and I’m sure you’re tired. Call me tomorrow, around five or six o’clock, and we’ll have a good long chat.”

“I’ll see what I’m doing,” Ruby said, “but don’t worry, I’ll call you when I can.”