Dreamboat (11 page)

Monika nodded. “How interesting.”

“And you?” Crissy asked. “Do you do some sort of work?”

Monika nodded. “I am a novelist,” she said.

“Oh, how exciting,” Crissy said with genuine enthusiasm. “What kind of books do you write?”

“Romance,” she said. She smiled more widely than before, and her eyes twinkled. “Love, love, love,” she said.

“That's wonderful,” Crissy said. “I've never met a romance novelist before.” As a matter of fact, she thought, she'd never met anybody who wrote anything.

“It's wonderful work,” Monika said, “to write of love. It is the best sort of thing to write about, don't you agree?”

“I have no idea,” Crissy said, “but it sounds very exciting.”

“Have you been in love?” Monika asked. “Or married?”

“I . . . I've been infatuated,” Crissy said honestly, “but I don't think I've ever really been in love. And I've never been married.”

“A beautiful girl like you?” Monika looked at her with surprise. “I'm shocked. I should have thought you'd been married at least once and had many lovers.”

“Well, I've had boyfriends,” Crissy admitted, “but none of them were really . . . serious or satisfying.” She looked at Monika questioningly. “Are you married?”

Monika tinkled laughter. “Twice. Both disasters,” she replied merrily.

“Did you have children?”

Monika shook her head. “No, thank heaven,” she said. “Neither man would've been a good father, and I'm devoted to my work. Children require a great deal of care, and I probably wouldn't make a very good mother.”

“I would like to be a mother someday, I think,” Crissy said thoughtfully.

Monika reached a bejeweled hand across the table and patted her. “We must see about that,” she said with a smile and slightly arched brow.

Crissy laughed. “I don't know. . . .”

“Oh, I do,” Monika said. “There are some very interesting men aboard.” She paused, then added, “Single, too, if that matters.”

Crissy laughed again. “It does.”

“You must stick with me,” Monika said with a wink. “I can steer you in the right direction.”

Crissy was momentarily nonplussed. “I . . . well . . . thank you,” she said. “But I don't really think you can force these things.”

“You can help them along,” Monika said. “Oh, yes. You can definitely help them along. I'll show you.” She lightly tapped her breast with a hand, her rings flashing in the light.

Crissy smiled and shrugged. “It's kind of you to offer, but—”

“But nothing,” Monika said. “I will be your guide in the world of romance. Perhaps we can begin tonight. You and your friend can join us at table for the second dinner sitting at eight-thirty. The first sitting at six-thirty is far too early for a ship, don't you think? With the late-night activity, which is the most interesting thing aboard a ship”—she paused and laughed her tinkly laugh again—“one wants a few winks in the afternoon and plenty of time to prepare for the evening's festivities, don't you agree?”

“It's probably a good plan,” Crissy said.

“The early sitting is for the geriatrics who collapse into bed by nine, I think.” Monika put a hand across her smiling mouth as if to keep such thoughts from escaping her lips again.

Crissy smiled. “Maybe you're right,” she said.

“So tonight,” Monika went on, “tell the maître d' that you want to be seated with Frau Graf's party. We'll be looking for you. There'll be Mina and Rudy and Doctor Von Meckling. He's an older man but quite distinguished. I think you and your friend will enjoy the company.”

“Thank you,” Crissy said. “I'll ask Jenny about it when I see her. I don't know if she's made any plans or not.”

“Unpacking, I suppose,” Monika said.

“Actually, I think she's met one of the ship's officers,” Crissy said, “and they went off somewhere together.”

Monika's eyebrows arched. “Already?”

Crissy nodded.

“Fast worker,” Monika said, laughing. “I must meet this one.”

Crissy laughed, too. “I guess I should start unpacking, now that you mention it.”

“Yes, my dear,” Monika said. “I must do the same.” She sipped the last of the champagne in her glass and rose to her feet. “I will see you at dinner, I hope.” She nodded in a formal fashion.

“Yes,” Crissy said. “I look forward to it.”

Monika turned, and with the long straps of her huge gold handbag clutched in one hand, she walked in her tiny steps toward the sliding glass doors, the handbag nearly scraping the floor. Crissy watched until she was
gone, then looked at her watch. She saw that they would be leaving port soon. Maybe she would have enough time to unpack and get back out on deck beforehand. She wanted to take some pictures of Piraeus as they left.

She went back through the big dining room and down one flight of stairs to Deck Four, where she found her cabin effortlessly. She swiped her card and went in. Jenny was sprawled naked on the bed, and quickly pulled a sheet up over her breasts.

“Oh!” she cried. “I thought you would stay out on deck till we left.”

“I decided to unpack first, if I have time, and get my camera.” She added, “Are you going to nap?”

“Uh, well, I don't know,” Jenny said. She nodded toward the closed bathroom door and in a whisper said, “Manolo's in there, getting ready to leave.”

Crissy tried to stifle a laugh. “You
are
shameless,” she whispered back.

“And he is a stud,” Jenny replied.

The bathroom door opened, and Manolo stepped out, adjusting his cap. He saw Crissy and stopped in his tracks. “Why, hello,” he said. “I walked Jenny back to her cabin. I hope I haven't imposed on you in any way.”

Crissy shook her head. “No, of course not,” she said. “You're welcome anytime.”

He looked at Jenny. “I'd better run,” he said. “I hope I see you again.”

“Oh, yes,” Jenny replied. “I do, too.”

“We'll soon set sail,” he said, “so if you want to see Piraeus and Athens from the sea, you'd better get above decks.”

“Thanks,” Jenny said. “I might stay right here and savor it through the window.”

When he was gone, Jenny looked over at Crissy, who had begun to open her luggage. “You would not believe this,” Jenny said.

Crissy stopped and glanced at her. “Oh, yes, I do,” she said with a laugh. “Was it fun?”

“Oh, it was heaven,” Jenny said, “even if it was a little fast. You know, they're really not supposed to mingle with the passengers. Well, not like this, anyway. But he said he couldn't help himself.” She paused and adjusted the sheet across her breasts. “Neither could I.”

Crissy began taking clothing from one of her suitcases and hanging it in the closet. “Trust you,” she said. “We haven't even set sail, and you've already found a real hottie.”

“God, he is, too,” Jenny gushed. “What've you been up to?”

“Talking to these fascinating people out on deck,” she said. “They would like for us to join them for dinner. The second sitting at eight-thirty.”

“Who are they?”

Crissy told her what she'd learned about Monika, Mina, and Rudy. “What do you think?”

“Fine with me,” Jenny said. “If I don't like them, I can always change tables.” She had a dreamy expression on her face. “I wish I could eat with Manolo.”

“Maybe you'll spot somebody at dinner,” Crissy said, placing folded items on the closet's shelves. “Maybe there'll be some good-looking single man alone.”

The ship's horn blasted, and afterward there was an announcement in three languages that visitors must leave the ship as departure was imminent. Jenny yawned and closed her eyes.

“Don't you want to be out on deck when we leave?” Crissy asked.

“Oh, I don't care,” Jenny said. “I think I'll take a nap.” She smiled conspiratorially at Crissy. “Postcoital bliss and all that.”

“Whatever,” Crissy replied. “I'll see you in awhile.”

Crissy left the cabin and went back up the stairs toward the top deck. When she reached the Deck Seven landing, she saw two sailors emerge from an elevator, carrying a large, handsome steamer trunk, one at each end. Its top and front were emblazoned with a large V in the middle of what appeared to be a heraldic crest of some kind.

Following the sailors out of the elevator was Mark, the handsome young man she and Jenny had talked with earlier. He didn't see her, as he was engrossed in conversation with the sailors. She watched as he pointed down a hallway, directing the sailors, she supposed, then saw them turn the corner and head that way. Trailing behind them, Crissy saw them stop at the door to a suite. She knew that these suites on the top deck were the most expensive aboard the ship.

Turning in the opposite direction, she walked toward the pool deck, fascinated by what she had just seen. Mark must be extremely rich, she thought.

She reached the railing, which was already crowded with passengers who'd stationed themselves there for the departure, but as she watched the harbor of Piraeus disappear, she couldn't shake the image of Mark and
the sailors with the trunk from her mind. How extraordinary it was, she thought, to be able to travel in such a fashion. Surely, there were very few people who could afford to go anywhere with a steamer trunk nowadays, and to think this one belonged to a handsome young man. How odd that it hadn't already been brought aboard, she thought. She wondered why they'd waited until the last minute. Perhaps he got some kind of special treatment other passengers didn't get. Still, it seemed curious.

Chapter Seven

G
eorgios Vilos picked up his cell phone and pressed in the number that he had memorized so that it would never be found written down anywhere. The number could be found in his cell phone records, should it ever come to that, but he wasn't going to invite trouble by having it in an address book or lying about on his desk.

The man answered on the third ring. “Yes?”

“Is my package in place?” Vilos asked.

“Of course,” came the arrogant reply.

“Did you oversee this yourself?”

“That is none of your business.”

Georgios Vilos wanted to shout obscenities at the impertinent bastard, but he didn't dare offend him until he was absolutely certain that his plan was in motion. “I see,” he finally replied in a neutral voice. “But you are confident that the package is where it should be?”

“Yes. Do you think I am a fool?”

“No. No. Certainly not,” Vilos said hastily. “But these things can go awry, can't they?”

“Not when you're dealing with me.”

“Anyone can make a mistake,” Georgios Vilos said before thinking.

There was the sound of a click as the man hung up.

Georgios Vilos pressed the
END
button on the cell phone, flipped it shut, and hung his head in his hands.
God, how I hate him!
he thought miserably.
I wish I could hang him up by his balls!
He slammed the cell phone down on his desk.
But I have no choice. None.

He leaned back in his chair and looked out the window but didn't see
anything beyond the glass, lost in thought. He was taking a huge risk, he realized, but it was the best way to go about the business. Hiding the explosives in Mark's steamer trunks was the easiest and most efficient way to get them aboard the ship. The customs officials wouldn't dare check his son's luggage. He would be greeted by everyone at the ship terminal like a crown prince and waved through by security as if he were a conquering hero. The buzz of metal detectors would be ignored, should anything set them off. No one in his family ever had to submit to searches, let alone remove change, belts, or shoes. Certainly not in Piraeus, and the port of Piraeus was all that mattered. If the explosives were used, then there would be nothing to discover later on. There would be no ship.

Georgios Vilos heaved a sigh. He certainly didn't want to endanger Mark in any way, but Mark would have plenty of opportunities to abandon ship, so that wasn't a problem. There were several ports of call before the vessel crossed the Atlantic to Brazil. Georgios shifted in his desk chair uncomfortably. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. The despicable Lampaki brothers could prevent his resorting to such a terrible course of action, and he could only hope that they would come up with the money to save the company.

Meanwhile, he thought with some degree of satisfaction, if what Azad said was true, then the explosives were on the ship, safely secured in Mark's trunk, and Mark himself was not in harm's way. It was a brilliant plan, he decided. No one would ever imagine or believe that Mark Vilos would hold the destruction of his own father's prize ship in his luxurious suite.

By the time Crissy and Jenny reached the dining room, a line had formed. The maître d', aided by a few stewards, was adept at seating passengers, and they were swept into the elegant dining room and quickly seated with Monika Graf, Rudy, Mina, and the doctor.

Rudy rose to his feet, and the older doctor more or less propelled himself into a semistanding position as the women were seated.

“It's so nice of you to join us,” Monika said enthusiastically. “Let me introduce everyone. You must be . . . Jenny, is it?”

“Yes,” Jenny said, unabashedly staring at the older woman's hair, makeup, and glittery clothing as if she were an exotic animal she'd never seen before.

After the introductions, the wine steward appeared and took their
drink orders. Jenny and Crissy decided to get a bottle of white wine, which they were told would have their cabin number on it for the next meal if they didn't finish it tonight. As they perused menus, they chatted about their afternoon—everyone, it seemed, napped—and talked about the ship.

“I'm very disappointed,” Monika said. “It's not at all glamorous.”

“My dear,” Dr. Von Meckling said, his eyeglasses reflecting the light, “it was very tastefully built and decorated, and its size is ideal. Not so many people and thankfully no children. We are very fortunate.” He spoke in an authoritative voice that suited his distinguished appearance. Carefully dressed in an immaculate dark suit, he had short white hair, a neatly trimmed mustache, and a pristine white handkerchief in his breast pocket and a small red rose on his lapel.

“That's true,” Monika said, flapping a bejeweled hand in the air.

“I love it,” Mina added. “It's
intime
and, like the doctor said, very tastefully decorated.”

“It's also very fast,” Rudy added. “The fastest in the world, I'm told.”

After placing their orders, they discussed tomorrow's stop. “Have you been to Sicily before?” the doctor asked Jenny, who was seated next to him.

Jenny shook her head. “No,” she said. “I've been to Europe a couple of times, but not Sicily.”

“Are you going on one of the excursions?” Mina asked Crissy.

“Yes,” she said, “I'm going to Taormina. I read a little bit about it and decided to do that instead of going to Mt. Etna.”

“Oh, spare me Etna,” Monika said. “That terrible sulfurous stench. Besides, you can't shop, and in Taormina there are gorgeous shops.”

“I wouldn't miss Etna for the world,” said the doctor. “Been there before, but can't wait to see it again. Not good for heart patients—the altitude, you know—or asthmatics, what with the smoke and all, but I must go.” He looked at Jenny again. “You, my dear?”

“Mt. Etna,” she said. “It's hot.” She smiled lasciviously. “Besides, I figured, what the hell? There'll be lots of opportunities to shop, and Crissy wanted to see Taormina, so we can exchange notes.”

Salads and starters arrived, and everyone ate with relish. The entrées followed, and everyone seemed pleased with the food. When dessert arrived, Crissy was surprised to see that the Europeans all had the cheese platter, while she and Jenny opted for a delicious rum-soaked cake and ice cream.

It was agreed that everyone would meet in the Hercules Lounge on Deck Six for the nightly show at ten-thirty, after going their separate ways after dinner.

Crissy and Jenny excused themselves and left the dining room, not failing to notice the many glances from still-seated diners that followed them. In the hall outside they saw a door leading to the deck. “I'm going to have a smoke out on deck,” Jenny said.

“I'll come with you.” It was windy on the deck, despite its being protected by bulkheads and lifeboats hanging on davits, and dark, with only the light from small mounted wall lamps and spilling from windows in doors or the occasional lit-up office or stateroom. They stood at the railing looking out at the darkness. In the distance they could see what must be another cruise ship, its lights appearing in the black emptiness as if it were some sort of chimera. Leaning over the railing and looking down at the water, they quickly backed away, both laughing at the spray that covered them in a fine mist, even though they were five decks above the sea. Only a few other passengers strolled by or stopped at the railing, mostly couples, many of them having an after-dinner cigarette or cigar.

“This is a good place for a smooch,” Jenny said. “Especially in one of the dark corners.”

“Or you could climb into one of the lifeboats,” Crissy joked.

“Now that's an idea,” Jenny said.

“Are you going to see Manolo tonight?” Crissy asked.

“Maybe,” she said. “He'll probably be in the disco around midnight, and if he is, we'll sneak off someplace.”

“Sounds like fun,” Crissy replied.

“Hmmm,” Jenny replied, “it's fun, all right.”

They went back inside and made their way to the Hercules Lounge, where the show would be. Just inside the double doors, Mina and Rudy were waiting to one side.

“Hallo,” Mina said. “We got great seats with tables if we want to order cocktails.” She had changed into a fiery red gown with a skirt of several rows of ruffles, reminiscent of a flamenco dancer, and wore a glittering necklace, earrings, and bracelets, whether real or rhinestone, Crissy and Jenny couldn't tell.

“How nice of you,” Crissy said, “and I love your dress. It's beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Mina replied.

They followed the couple to red plush seats nearby, where Monika and
the doctor were engaged in conversation. Monika nodded, and the old doctor half rose from his seat to greet them. After they were gathered around the small table, Rudy proposed ordering a bottle of champagne.

“Oh, you're my kind of guy,” Jenny said.

“And mine,” Mina said, putting an arm around him possessively.

Rudy summoned a waiter and ordered the champagne.

Dr. Von Meckling turned his attention to Jenny as he had at dinner. He seemed entranced by her, and his interest was not lost on the other members of the party. Jenny fell into polite conversation with him, while Crissy chatted with everyone else. The champagne arrived, and the waiter poured six glasses. When he had gone, Rudy proposed a toast. “To an exciting and romantic journey,” he said, holding his glass aloft.

Everyone clinked glasses and sipped champagne as the house lights began to dim. The show was about to begin. The orchestra struck up a tune, and a tall young man, a handsome African-American, came out onto the small stage. The audience began applauding politely. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began in English, “welcome to the
Sea Nymph.
” He proceeded to tell a number of jokes, ranging from funny to pathetic, but his efforts were greeted with wild applause. Finally, he announced: “Tonight's show is called ‘Eastern Delights.' ”

The three members of the orchestra segued into an exotic Middle Eastern-sounding number, and a dance routine began that featured women costumed as belly dancers and men dressed as sheiks. At the end of the routine, the leading lady was carried offstage in the arms of her sheik pursuer.

Monika whispered to Crissy, “Absolute nonsense, isn't it?”

Crissy nodded with a smile. “They're all pretty good, though, aren't they?”

Monika arched one of her drawn brows. “Well, if you're trapped on a ship at sea. . . .” she replied, then placed a hand over her mouth as she laughed.

The show was brief, no more than thirty minutes or so, then the orchestra played dance music. Many couples took to the small dance floor. Dr. Von Meckling turned to Jenny. “A dance, my dear?”

“Oh, wonderful,” she replied, smiling mischievously at Crissy.

She and Dr. Von Meckling rose, and he escorted her down to the dance floor, where Rudy and Mina joined them. “There will be more available men in the disco,” Monika said to Crissy.

“Really?” she replied.

Monika nodded. “Oh, yes,” she said. “A lot of the older couples will be in bed, and the younger people turn up. You wait and see. Also some of the ship's officers.” She grabbed Crissy's arm. “Drop-dead handsome, some of them. Only you don't want to become involved with any of them.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Most of them have someone at home, despite what they say,” Monika replied. “And besides, they don't offer particularly good prospects, if you know what I mean.”

“I don't,” Crissy said, looking at her in puzzlement.

“Money, darling,” Monika said, emphatically tapping a long red-lacquered fingernail on the table. The ring on her finger caught the light and glittered magnificently. “They don't make much. If you fall for a seaman, it must be the captain of the ship. He's the only one worth pursuing.”

“So much for romance,” Crissy said with a laugh.

Monika smiled. “One must be practical as well,” she said. “It's very difficult to sustain love when one is hungry or one hasn't the money to pay the telephone bill.”

“I can see your point,” Crissy agreed, although she was beginning to see Monika in a different light. She wasn't quite the romantic Crissy had at first assumed.

The dancing was brief, and everyone agreed to go to the disco.

“I want to go change clothes first,” Jenny said. She looked at Crissy. “You want to come with me?”

“Sure,” she said. They got to their feet. “We'll see you in the disco,” Crissy said to the table in general.

“You better be there,” Rudy said. “I want to dance with you. Mina can't dance every single dance with me.”

“I'll be there,” Crissy said, winking.

On the way to their cabin, Jenny told her how Dr. Von Meckling had felt her up on the dance floor. “I swear,” she said, her voice full of laughter, “he is one horny old toad. I thought I'd tease him, but
he
started it. I kept grabbing his hands, but I couldn't keep the old coot off me.”