Janine Marie - Rigging a Murder 01 - The Single Shoe Mystery (16 page)

“Maybe Janeva is not on the boat?” Steph inquired.

Then they heard the gunshot.

“What was that?” Steph asked, “It sounded like…”

“A gunshot,” Thomas and Greg said simultaneously.

“Break the glass,” Greg suggested. Looking for something strong enough, he picked up one of the deck chairs and threw it at the glass door. The chair broke into pieces but the glass didn’t break.

“Shit, it’s marine-grade glass, made to survive storms and crashing through waves. Most yacht owners keep a spare key,” Thomas said, looked around him. “Where would Lorenzo keep his?

“Hanging plant? No. Under the seat? No. Bar fridge? Locked under propane heater? No. Tucked in the hand of the Italian sculpture? YES!”

Opening the door, the three ran into the yacht. “Let’s split up,” Greg suggested.

“All that’s left of this floor is the main cabin and media room. Steph, you and Greg go there, then meet me on the lower level!” yelled Thomas as he ran toward the stairway mid ship.

Five minutes later the three stood in the small lower-level landing, having searched all the cabins. “What’s left?” Steph asked.

“Engine room and crew quarters,” Greg said, pointing aft. Thomas ran through the yacht to the engine room door and wrenched at it.

“Damn, it’s locked too.”

“Can’t we break it down?” Steph asked.

Thomas and Greg both turned to stare at her incredulously. “NO! Its reinforced fireproof steel with soundproofing insulation on the inside,” Thomas moaned in frustration. Then, “There will be a key on the bridge,” and he ran off.

“We’ll check the crew quarters,” Greg yelled after him as he grabbed Steph’s arm, dragging her after him.

The crew quarters were unlocked and vacant, so that left only the locked engine room. Greg and Steph had each looked in one of the two crew rooms, then together the small crew galley, then turned and ran back to the engine room.

“You found a key,” Greg said unnecessarily, as Thomas worked to put the key in the lock. Opening the door they were stunned by the horrific gory scene that met them.

“Thomas,” Janeva cried and ran into his arms.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Later! We need to get off this boat: it’s going to explode!” Janeva yelled, turning to go back and grab at Catherine, who was still unconscious. “Help me!” she cried, and instantly the spell was broken as Thomas and Greg ran into the crowded room, pushed Trent out the door and into Steph’s arms, then together lifted Catherine between them. Janeva helped pull Trent to his feet and she and Steph dragged him off the boat to the dock.

“NO!!! Don’t stop! Keep going—Go, Go, Go!” Janeva yelled to Greg and Thomas, who had been about to put Catherine down to ascertain her injuries.

“She needs medical attention,” Greg was saying, “and is anyone else on board?  What about the crew?”

“She will need more, as will you, when this boat blows up beside you!” Janeva yelled back at him from the end of the dock. Exchanging a look that said That’s a bit far-fetched, but then again, John’s head has been blown off, “Better do as she says!” Thomas directed, and together he and Greg grabbed up Catherine’s limp body and ran after Janeva, Steph, and Trent.

“No one else is on the yacht, the crew left by taxi. NOW RUN!” Janeva screamed at Thomas and Greg. “Faster!”

BOOM!

The boat exploded, as predicted, throwing all six to the dock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some time later, after the firefighters had arrived first on the scene, and the ambulance had taken Catherine to hospital and treated the rest of us for shock, we were interviewed by the police.

“Oh, hi,” I said, looking up to see detective Luke Smythe, the same young policeman I’d met after the break-in and fatal stabbing at Lorenzo’s office on Friday. Today was Sunday. Was that only two days ago? So much had happened.

He motioned for me to take a seat; we had been whisked off to police headquarters for hours and hours of interviews. There was so much to tell. Fortunately, Detective Luke Smythe was a thorough and diligent detective, so after the break-in at Lorenzo’s office he had contacted the Canadian police to verify Catherine’s and my Princess Louisa murder story.

“Did you find Wiffy… I mean, Georgina? Has she been arrested? She said she was going to trigger the bomb from the Yacht Club deck,” I asked as soon they finally stopped drilling me.

“We have searched the area and have a APB out for her arrest. She must be hiding out somewhere. Your husband and Greg Writeman are convinced that she couldn’t have escaped from the yacht when they were on board.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later, late at night on the Carleton Bridge, two figures walked unnoticed along the pedestrian sidewalk of the bridge. The usual steady flow of vehicles had subsided to a car every few minutes, plus the bridge was connected only to a small island that housed many small residential houses whose owners were asleep.

“What rock have you been hiding under?” Max asked.

“Oh I have my bolt holes, here and there,” Wiffy replied.

“You think because you finally blew up the yacht that you finished the job?” Max inquired of Wiffy, who had been looking pleased with herself.

“Yes, of course; they are all dead.”

“Did you stick around to see?”

“No, there wasn’t time; I had to jump off the boat into the disgusting marina water, I swam to shore, triggered the bomb, then I went home to shower. I was freezing!” She shivered at the memory. “But I left the shoe with the flash drive in it for you in your club locker, as we agreed before I left.”

“Catherine survived, they all survived,” snarled Max.

“Fuck me! Okay, I will take care of her and the rest.”

“It was the wrong shoe!”

“WHAT! NO! Damn it! I didn’t have time to check the shoe!” Wiffy stammered, looking frightened. “What did you do? What happened?”

“You made my life very, very difficult! Fortunately, I’ve been manipulating my board of directors for years and was able to buy myself some time to fix some ‘bugs’ that had come up in development. But I NEED that chip,” hissed Max. “Where is the chip, Georgina?” he growled.

“I, I think that bitch Janeva might have it… she knew it was graphene.”

Shaking his head, Max asked her softly, “What is that over there?” Then, as Wiffy leaned in to hear him, he took a quick look around to ensure that no one was in sight and dropped his keys. As he bent down to pick them up, he instead grabbed Wiffy’s legs and casually but quickly propelled her over the bridge. Not into the water, where there might have been a chance she could survive, but over the concrete. Max picked up his keys and was already moving off the bridge before she crashed down to the concrete below. This bridge was notorious for its suicides, and clearly Wiffy had had all the reason in the world to kill herself.

EPILOGU
E
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Life Goes On

R
ecovering in hospital, Catherine found she was drawn to Stella’s bedside. The two women spent many hours talking together and found that their memories of John formed an unlikely and unexpected bond between them.

Between collecting the yacht insurance on the Atlantis and, after the product launch, selling Dexia to one of Max’s shell companies—which was of course a convoluted trail of numbered shell companies that could never lead anyone to Max—Catherine was, as Max had predicted, a very wealthy woman.

So Catherine and Stella joined forces to open the “Caress Beauty Salon.” It was an immediate success since Catherine could afford to hire the best talent, combined with her Yacht Club connections and her impeccable taste and proven hostess skills. Catherine ran marketing and promotion while Stella ran the day-to-day operations, having been a sought-after hair stylist before she met John.

Trent didn’t fare as well. Unfortunately for him, his mother decided he wasn’t able to look after himself and moved him back into the family home where she could look after him properly.

As for Janeva and her family, with the graphene chip still in hand, murder and intrigue continue to follow them. They decide to join other Yacht Club members for a club cruise and regatta in the BVI’s (British Virgin Islands). Teaming up again with Greg and Steph, they are once again into drawn into a mystery that pulls them from island to island as they sleuth out a killer and Max hunts them in his quest to recover the missing computer chip.

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Janine Marie the author of the Rigging A Murder Series. A Canadian and enthusiastic boater, she currently lives with her family in California.

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