Cold Grave (36 page)

No one spoke.

‘This is bullshit. Everyone saw what happened.’

FitzHarris pulled a dining chair out for Doctor Chan’s sister at her table. Karen did the same for Doctor Chan.

‘This is bullshit.’ Genny shouted to his friends, ‘We’re outta here.’

Sixteen men stood and exited the restaurant, all eyes on them.

Genny turned back to Anya and snarled. ‘This isn’t over.’

After their dramatic exit, one by one, the other passengers began to applaud.

‘Are you OK?’ Martin was at her side.

Anya nodded. When forced into the light, trolls did turn to stone, she realised.

After dinner, Jasmine and her family returned to their cabins and Anya and Martin took Ben to bed.

Inside their suite, Wes was still glued to his computer.

Anya suddenly thought of Mr Meeks, alone and unable to take care of himself. ‘Won’t your father be worried?’

‘Nah, I called him and said I’m helping a doctor research a difficult case. That seemed to impress him. He’s got room service, but I have to put him to bed soon. Hope you don’t mind, but I ordered ice-cream. I would have gone myself, but I wouldn’t have been able to get back in.’

Martin told Ben to go to the toilet and he’d help him with teeth in a minute. ‘Any new postings?’ he asked.

‘Nothing helpful. I got ninety emails in the last hour, but nothing’s been posted on Night Rider’s site . . . Wait a minute. This could be something.’ He reloaded the page. ‘He’s just posted a comment about a crazy bitch mother.’

‘That’s got to be him!’ Anya said.

Wes downloaded the email with the captured webcam image. Anya and Martin moved to the computer to see. The image slowly spread down the screen.

‘What’s he doing?’ The image was a Caucasian man, with short brown hair, his hands across his forehead, shielding his face.

Wes stared at the image, disappointed. ‘He’s acting like he knows the camera is on.’

‘How can he?’ Martin asked.

Wes frantically typed away. ‘Of course – a red light appears when the webcam is on. How could I be so stupid to miss that?’

‘So you can’t catch him?’ Martin stood, hands on hips.

‘I didn’t say that.’ Wes gave him an irritated look. ‘Give me a minute to change the programme. Next time he’s on, we’ll get him for sure.’

‘I’m ready,’ Ben called from the downstairs bathroom. ‘Can Mum help tonight?’

‘Coming.’ Anya was happy to do the bed routine. They finished teeth, washed some tomato sauce off his cheek and he was ready for pyjamas.

When they came out, Martin was missing.

‘Where’s Dad?’ Ben asked.

Wes looked guilty. ‘College Girl posted again. She’s at a computer in a vestibule on deck seven. She’s got brown hair extensions and googly eyes. You couldn’t miss her.

‘I told him we should contact head of security, but your ex thought she’d be gone by the time anyone got there. He said he’d act like he just bumped into her, find out her name, then come straight back.’

Martin was right about contacting FitzHarris. College Girl hadn’t assaulted anyone, and was looking for hook-ups. Even though Martin was sensible, Anya felt concerned. What if one of the bowling men saw him? Genny had almost been violent to her, and she wouldn’t put it past him to assault Martin if the odds were in his favour. She put Ben to bed and waited.

Ten minutes passed, then thirty more. Wes needed to go back to his room and be with his father. Reluctantly, he packed up his computer and its power cord. ‘Do you want me to call if Night Rider logs on again?’

She thought about it. There was little they could do overnight, and she already knew what Brian Peterson and Genny looked like. The last thing she wanted to do was rush out to a computer where any number of those men could be.

‘Let’s wait until morning. In the meantime, we should all get some sleep. That means you too.’

Wes headed for the door.

‘Thanks for everything you’re doing.’ She closed the door and checked her watch again.

It had been forty-five minutes. What was Martin doing? What had happened? If he wasn’t back in fifteen minutes, she had to call David FitzHarris.

37

Anya heard laughing outside, then the buzz of the electronic key.

Martin had his arm around the shoulder of a young woman. She was giggling when she saw Anya.

‘Who’s she, Marty? I thought we were going to be alone.’

Anya’s relief that Martin was okay was quickly replaced by irritation. She raised her eyebrows. Martin was just supposed to ask the woman at the computer her name. She could not believe he had brought this woman to their suite, where Ben slept. And she’d been worried enough to leave a message for FitzHarris to call her asap. ‘If FitzHarris rings, I’ll get it from upstairs.’

‘Oh no,’ her former husband lunged and reached out for her hand. ‘I thought we could have a chat. Anya, this is Shelby. She’s a college girl.’ He emphasised each word.

‘We have to talk quietly,’ Anya urged. ‘Our son is upstairs sleeping.’

‘Marty, you’re very naughty,’ Shelby wagged a finger in his direction. ‘You said there was a party. And you definitely didn’t mention any wife.’

‘Ex-wife,’ they answered in unison.

‘Well, this is awkward,’ Shelby mumbled. ‘I’m sensing you two have some issues . . . and I just remembered I have to meet someone for drinks.’

‘The men who had the orgy on the first night?’ Martin said. ‘I was on the corridor and saw you that night, among other things.’

That seemed to temporarily sober her up. ‘I’m getting a weird vibe. I’m just gonna go now.’

Anya tried appealing to her conscience. ‘A teenage girl died that night. We think you saw her not long before and maybe took photos.’

Martin stepped to block the door.

Shelby’s eyes darted from Martin to Anya. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I want to go.’

‘Her name was Lilly Chan. She was Asian, with long black hair.’

‘That’s a stupid rumour,’ Shelby said. ‘That chick was just blind drunk.’

Anya gestured toward the lounge. ‘Lilly was sixteen. She died in the early hours of the morning. We believe she and a friend had their drinks spiked with a date-rape drug. That means they were both sexually assaulted. Only someone gave Lilly far too much. Her heart and lungs failed.’

Shelby looked to Martin, as if hoping he would deny it, then back to Anya.

‘I’m a forensic physician. Lilly’s body is in the ship’s morgue.’ Anya sighed and sat on the lounge. ‘I can arrange for you to go and see for yourself, if that’s what it takes.’

The young woman slid down onto the lounge like an invertebrate. She buried her face in fingers with leopard-patterned nails. ‘I thought she’d just passed out.’

Martin retreated to the kitchen to make coffee. Anya excused herself and followed him. ‘Why did you bring her back here?’ she demanded, trying not to raise her voice.

‘What was I supposed to do? She propositioned me, and wouldn’t tell me her name until I agreed to take her back to my room.’

The hour Martin was out, she had felt ill thinking he had put himself at risk.

‘Don’t tell me you were worried about me?’ Martin grinned.

Anya felt an old frustration return. She glanced back at Shelby – she was still on the lounge looking shocked. ‘This isn’t funny. What if something –’

Martin took her by a hand. ‘I love it when you care.’

She pulled her hand back. ‘This isn’t a joke.’

‘I get that,’ he retorted. ‘This is so typical of you. Why is it all right for you to take risks? Look at how you went out looking for Mishka. I can’t handle the forensic side, but I could do something here to help. Besides, I don’t trust FitzHarris, and I don’t think you do either. What choice did we have? Think about it.’

Anya hated to admit it, but he was right. He had successfully made contact with Shelby and coerced her into coming back for a private discussion.

There was a loud knock at the door. Without a word, Martin crossed the suite to answer it.

Anya listened to see if Ben stirred, and studied the girl. She was a student who liked to party and may have taken drugs herself. The image on the internet was far from the person on the lounge.

David FitzHarris walked into the room. ‘Got your message. Didn’t know you had company.’

Martin introduced Shelby to the head of security. The college girl became silent.

Anya explained. ‘We saw a blog Shelby posted and think she saw Lilly Chan in a cabin with some of the bowling-shirt men, and may have taken some photos.’

FitzHarris placed his hands on hips. ‘How?’

‘Internet. You’d be amazed what your average Joe can find,’ Martin quipped.

‘You’ve got to believe me,’ Shelby said, ‘I had no idea anything was wrong with that girl. She was rolling on the floor, peeing, totally out of control. It was just like a frat party. Everyone was wasted.’

Anya tried to make it clear. ‘Lilly could have been having seizures. That would explain why she became incontinent. By that stage, her lungs were filling with fluid and she was probably struggling to breathe. If she vomited, that could have gone into her lungs as well.’

‘Oh my God,’ Shelby covered her mouth with one hand.

FitzHarris moved over and sat opposite her. ‘I need to ask. Did you see anyone attempt to help her, or give her anything?’

‘Just water, I think. Some of the guys were trying to get her to come around so she’d leave.’ Shelby seemed to struggle. ‘It’s a bit hazy but there is something I do remember. One of the guys went off his head about how she pissed on the carpet and how much she stank, and how she’d messed up their cabin.’

‘Do you remember what he looked like?’

She reached into the evening bag in her lap. ‘I know what you’re going to think. At the time I thought he was funny.’ She pulled out a smartphone. ‘It was like he was Jim Carrey on speed.’ She clicked a few buttons and held up the phone. ‘Here he is.’

Martin disappeared and returned with coffees, along with a small carton of milk from the fridge. He sat cross-legged on the floor while Anya took the seat next to Shelby.

‘May I?’ she asked, and took the phone. The first frame was of the man who had exposed his penis at her outside the gym. He knelt beside a naked Lilly, looking down at her. All he had on was a pair of green socks. Other images were more candid. It was clear the men didn’t realise the photos were being taken.

The memory card from Brian Peterson’s room had only one face visible – his own. Shelby had not been so selective. A few shots along, Anya saw what she had hoped.

In one hand a man with a partly shaved head held a label-less clear plastic bottle with a clear fluid. In the other, he held a blue lid tilted into Lilly’s mouth. The bottle was the same shape as the one Anya and FitzHarris had found in the garbage. One that could not be purchased on board, and one that probably contained the GHB. This was not the act of someone trying to give a well person water. Lilly was lying flat on the floor. A few frames along, the same man was captured, straddled across Lilly’s neck, trying to place an erect penis in her mouth. Then Anya saw the shot that confirmed Kandy’s story. Genny’s face was clearly visible, having sex with the fifteen year old. Kandy’s eyes were closed, with both arms by her sides.

She scrolled through more photos. There were images of a naked Lilly, presumably taken from the doorway, and others in close-up. In one shot, there was frothing in the corner of Lilly’s mouth, a sign of pulmonary oedema. Her lungs and heart had already begun to fail. There were two other pictures of the water bottle and lid, each with a different man holding the cap.

From the sequence, the more drowsy Lilly became, the more doses she was given. GHB was thought to improve sexual desire. The men had no idea what they were doing. Instead of making her aroused, they were overdosing her – repeatedly.

‘I didn’t know that girl was in trouble. I swear to God. I just thought she was drunk.’ Tears began to flow down Shelby’s cheeks, along with her heavy mascara and eyeliner. ‘Give me the phone, I want to get rid of them.’