Dreamboat (27 page)

Crissy repeated what she'd told the captain, adding that Mark was
upset by her not wanting to return to his cabin for a nightcap, but also telling him what Jenny had said about being with Mark.

“What time did you come back from the dining room?”

Crissy answered his questions as best she could for the next fifteen minutes or so, and he jotted down her responses. “I've talked to the captain,” Christopolous said at last. “He told me you were going to make a list of the people you know on the ship?”

“Yes,” Crissy replied. She handed him the sheet of ship's stationery with the names. “I think I've listed everyone.”

“Very good,” he said, looking down at it. Crissy noticed that he gave no outward sign of recognition when he saw Luca's name on it. He folded it and tucked it inside his notepad.

“We have a record of every single call made on this ship. We know from which telephone they're placed and to what telephone number they are made.”

“That's incredible,” Crissy replied, her eyes brightening with hope.

He nodded. “Someone could've used a cell phone, of course, but we'll get to the bottom of this, Ms. Fitzgerald, I promise you that. If a public telephone was used, we can also install a minicam near the telephone where the calls were made to see if we can eventually get the caller on video. I think if we catch the caller, we're going to be catching whoever got in here.”

“I wonder who could've gotten in here?” Crissy asked, suddenly more worried than ever. She had felt violated by the calls, but this was so perverse, she didn't know what to think.

“We're certainly taking that into consideration,” Christopolous replied.

“Thanks, Mikelos,” she replied. “I feel a lot better now. The telephone calls were scary, but this—” she gestured to the bed—“this really frightens me.”

“We'll do everything we can,” he reassured her. “We're going to be putting a plainclothes security person on you the rest of the trip, or until we catch whoever is doing this.”

“You think that's necessary?”

“I think we have to do anything we can to make certain you're safe and that we catch this sicko,” he said. “Sorry about your underwear, by the way, but it looks like it's all ruined.”

“Yes,” Crissy nodded. “I don't think I could touch it even if it wasn't.”

“I can understand that,” Christopolous replied. “Do you think you need to see the ship's doctor? Maybe he could give you a tranquilizer or something.”

“No,” Crissy said, shaking her head. “I'll be okay.”

There was a knock at the door. “That'll be my forensics man,” Christopolous said. “Stefanos Sitara. I'll get it.” He rose to his feet, his large frame towering over her.

He opened the door, then introduced Crissy to Sitara. “I won't be long,” he told her.

“I'll be off,” Christopolous said. “Let me get your camera, and I'll have someone bring it right back to you after downloading.”

Crissy fetched it from the vanity and handed it to him.

“Why don't you try to get some rest after Stefanos is out of here,” he said, “and tomorrow, say after breakfast, check with the Information Desk. I may know something by then, and I'll leave a message for you.”

“I will, and thanks, Mikelos.”

He left, and Crissy watched as Stefanos Sitara, a short, wiry man who wore wire-rimmed glasses, photographed the bed from various angles. Afterward, he slipped on latex gloves, then gathered up her torn underwear and put it in a plastic bag.

“We'll have it checked for prints and any fluids,” he said. “See if we come up with anything.”

“You can do that on the ship?” she asked.

He nodded. “You'd be surprised at the resources we have available to us,” he replied.

“But if you don't have fingerprints from the passengers, what good would it do if you found any?” she asked.

“Who said it was a passenger?” Sitara asked, looking at her. “We don't know that. Besides, if we have a suspect, then we can get prints from him to see if they match any we find on the underwear, if there are any.”

Crissy opened and held the door for him. After he was gone, she slumped into a chair. Christopolous and Sitara had taken the incident very seriously, and Crissy felt more secure now, knowing that an undercover security person would be in close proximity to her for the rest of the trip.

After he left, she went through her drawers and the closet to see what, if any, underwear she had left. The cabin door opened, and Jenny stepped in.

“What are you doing?” Jenny asked, “and who were those men that I saw leaving here?”

“I'm looking for underwear,” Crissy said, “and the men who just left here are from Security.”

“Security?” Jenny parroted. “What's Security doing here?”

Crissy told her what had happened.

Jenny's eyes grew large with alarm. “What the hell have you been up to?”

“What do you mean?” Crissy responded, sitting down on the bed and looking up at her.

“Well, these things don't just happen, Crissy,” Jenny said. “You've brought it on yourself somehow or other. Some creep you've been sneaking around with might have done it, or that creepy doctor you've been seeing. He's seems like just the kind of pervert who would do something like this.” She wondered if Mark had anything to do with this as Crissy had originally thought. Despite her having been there the night when Crissy had a call, she knew that he'd already told her to leave before Crissy actually got the call. She also thought that Mark Vilos was weird—he kicked her out, didn't he?—but she didn't want to share any of this information with Crissy.

“That is not true,” Crissy cried, “and I won't sit here and listen to you say things like that about Luca. And I really don't appreciate your saying that I brought it on myself. I haven't been ‘sneaking around' seeing anybody, as you put it.”

“Well, you don't have to get so damn heated up about it,” Jenny replied, shrugging her shoulders. “That's usually the way it works, isn't it? A woman teases some guy, then something like this happens.”

Crissy felt like screaming at her, but she restrained herself. “I haven't been asking for anything, Jenny,” she replied angrily. “How dare you say such a thing. You know I'm not that kind of person.” She paused, ascertaining that the man who'd broken in had taken out all of her good underwear. “You know, I would have expected sympathy from you. I thought you were my friend. This has been really scary. How would you like it if somebody was calling you? Huh? How would you like it if somebody came in here and tore up
your
underwear? I don't think you'd like it very much, would you?”

“Oh, I don't know,” Jenny said with a laugh. “He might be pretty hot, right? Anyway, he must think you are.”

“That's disgusting,” Crissy said.

“Oh, get off your fucking high horse,” Jenny said. “You've always got
to be Miss Goody Two-shoes, don't you? Here you have an opportunity to meet some really cool guys. Really rich guys, and I mean
rich
. Not Albany rich, but European rich. And what do you do? Get all crazy over some weirdo making phone calls and date the ship's doctor, some Italian lowlife who probably got his medical degree in Guatemala or someplace.”

Crissy glared at her for a moment, then asked, “Why have you turned on me? Why aren't you my friend anymore, Jenny? Did I do something to change things? Or is it because I've always been the wallflower when we've gone out and suddenly there are men actually paying attention to
me,
not just you? Is that it?”

Jenny laughed. “Think whatever you want to,” she said, “because I don't really give a damn. I don't have a problem getting men, that's for sure, and as far as I know, you don't have any prospects. That so-called doctor's probably screwing any chick that'll have him.”

Crissy wanted nothing more than to get up off the bed and smack Jenny's face. Hard. But she remained sitting, trying to calm down her overwrought feelings. “I don't want to discuss this anymore,” she finally said.

“Fine,” Jenny said. “It's really a bore, so let's forget about it. Besides, I've got to go to bed. All this fucking is wearing me out.”

Chapter Fifteen

C
rissy slept very late after being up so long dealing with Christopolous about the slashing incident, and when she finally got out of bed, it was nearly time to disembark for the shore excursions in Tenerife. As much as she wanted to see the island, she simply wasn't in the mood after what had occurred last night. After showering, she dressed and went up to the cafeteria. Even though breakfast was soon over, she knew that the coffee urns were replenished throughout the day, and coffee was all that she really wanted. She didn't have the stomach for food, and it wasn't because of the increasingly rough sea. The events of last night had left a bad taste in her mouth.

Keeping her feet spread wide to help keep her balance, she found an empty seat where she could see out both port and starboard windows. It was useless to try to go outside. The wind was fierce, and the ship's pitching and rolling, even while docked, was severe. Periodic showers doused the decks. Looking toward shore, she could see how the wind lashed at the palm-studded island, and looking toward the sea, she saw that the waves were much bigger than usual, forming whitecaps as far as the eye could see.

She ate to the accompaniment of little shrieks from all around the dining room as trays slid from tables, glasses overturned, and other minor disasters occurred. No one fell, however, at least not while she was there, but there were very few passengers in the dining room. She supposed that a lot of people were forgoing breakfast from fear of falling or because of seasickness, and others were lining up to go ashore.

After she had some coffee, the rain stopped. She ventured out on deck,
carefully grasping at chairs and tables until she reached the staircase that would take her up to the pool deck. She wanted to look out to sea from there and get a better view of the storm. By the time she reached the top deck, her clothes were nearly soaked through from the spray. But Crissy didn't mind: it felt cleansing after the scene in her cabin. Several other intrepid souls such as herself had already commandeered positions at the railing. Some of them were taking photographs; others stared out as if mesmerized by the raging sea and stormy skies. For awhile, she surveyed the choppy swells and dark skies with them, her spirits paradoxically calmed by the tempest, but when it began raining again, the wind whipping the raindrops against her in stinging blows, she decided it was time to go back belowdecks.

She decided that she would have to call the hospital and tell Luca what had happened. She would also have to tell him that she put his name on the list. She didn't want to interrupt him while he was working, but she certainly didn't want him to receive a surprise visit from Christopolous or one of his men.

Back inside, protected from the elements, Crissy cautiously made her way back down to her deck, taking her time and holding onto the numerous railings along the walls and on the stairs when she could. She considered using the elevators for the first time, but they weren't operating due to the ship's rolling and heaving. Carefully descending the stairs, she saw a tiny elderly woman she'd seen many times before, only now she had a sling on her left arm. An attendant was helping her down the stairs.

“Hello, there,” the woman said in English.

“Hi,” Crissy said. “I see you've had an accident. I hope it's not too serious.”

“Oh, dear,” the woman said in a birdlike voice. “I fell down the steps, so it could have been a lot worse, but it's just a sprained shoulder. Watch your step, because this is a dangerous storm. I've been on many, many cruises, and this is the first time I've been injured.”

“I will,” Crissy said, “and I hope you feel better soon.”

“Oh, that wonderful young doctor tells me I'll have to wear this thing for the rest of the trip. Imagine! Well, I guess I'm lucky—after all, at my age, I could have been killed.”

“Feel better,” Crissy said, starting back down the stairs.

Once she reached her cabin, she dialed the hospital, and when Voula answered, she asked to speak to Dr. Santo.

“Who may I say is calling?”

“This is Crissy Fitzgerald,” she replied, “and I—”

Without letting her finish, Voula said, “One moment, Ms. Fitzgerald. I'll put you through.”

Crissy was surprised but pleased. She had expected the woman to take a message at best. Why was she suddenly being nice to her? she wondered.

“Hello,” Luca said.

“Hello,” Crissy said, her heart leaping at the sound of his voice. “I hate to bother you at work, but I have a good reason to call.” Then she told him what had happened and why she was calling.

Luca was extremely disturbed. “But you're okay?” he asked, alarmed by her news.

“Yes,” she said quickly.

“No, I mean, how are you,
really
, Crissy,” he said. “Tell me the truth.”

“I'm . . . I'm upset, of course . . . but I'm really okay.”

“Thank God,” he said. “Now listen to me. Don't you worry about putting my name on the list. Don't even give it a thought. I'm going to call Mikelos as soon as we hang up. We're good friends, you know.”

She felt relieved with his response. “I was so worried,” she said, “because I know how you feel about not breaking the rules and not having to listen to nasty gossip about us.”

“Crissy,” he said, “that was to protect you. I can take care of myself, so don't worry about me. I just didn't want you to be an object of ridicule among the crew like Jenny is.”

“Thank you, Luca,” she replied.

“Just promise me you'll take care of yourself. Damn, if I hadn't been so busy last night at least you might not have been alone when you discovered this.”

“It's not your fault, Luca,” she replied. “You have to do your job.”

“I'll meet you tonight. How's that?”

“That would be wonderful.”

“Then take care until tonight when we're together,” he said. “I'm going to call Mikelos now and get his take on this.” Then he added, “Check for messages after dinner, or better yet, call me.”

She hung up the receiver, looking at it affectionately. In a time of feeling violated, as if the pervert had invaded her very being, she was grateful for a strong man like Luca. Of all the people she had met on the ship, he was the only one she could truly trust.

She looked at her watch, remembering what Christopolous had said. If he knew anything, he'd said, he would call her or leave a message for her at the Information Desk. She might as well go down there now, she decided, but before she got to the door, the telephone rang.

She picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Ms. Fitzgerald?”

“Yes?”

“This is Mikelos Christopolous. I'm afraid I have bad news for you.”

Crissy's heart sank.

“The telephone calls were made from a public telephone outside a men's room on the Venus Deck, so we don't have an answer.”

“That is bad news,” Crissy responded.

“But as I promised you,” Mikelos said, “we will install a Minicam near the telephone where the calls were made to see if we can eventually get the caller on video.”

“Thank you,” Crissy said. “I really would appreciate anything that you can do.”

“We'll get the creep,” Christopolous said. “It may take awhile, but rest assured, we'll do it.”

“Thanks again,” Crissy said. She hung up the telephone and sat down on the bed, dejected. She didn't know any more than she did before. Anybody could've dialed her cabin from that telephone.

Crissy spent the afternoon engrossed in her book. At one point she fell asleep, and when she awoke, it was time to get ready for dinner. On her way to the bathroom, there was a knock at the door. She answered it and was surprised to see an unfamiliar steward with a huge bouquet of flowers for her.

Crissy took the bouquet from him.
Luca is so thoughtful,
she told herself, putting her nose to the bouquet and inhaling its sweet aroma.
To take the time out from his schedule to do something like this for me.

“Also this,” the steward said, holding a creamy vellum envelope out to her.

Crissy took the envelope and saw her name written in script on it. “Hold on just a minute,” she told the steward. She put the bouquet and envelope on the table in the sitting area and retrieved her wallet from her shoulder bag. Taking out two euros, she handed them to the steward. “Thanks,” she said.

“That isn't necessary.”

“I insist,” she replied.

“Thank you very much,” he said, taking the euros. He smiled, then turned and went down the corridor.

Crissy picked up the envelope and tore it open. She could hardly wait to see what he had written.

Dear Crissy,

These flowers are a small token of my gratitude for your having dinner with me. I realize that I behaved inexcusably when you wouldn't return to my cabin for a nightcap, and I apologize. I hope that I can make it up to you by asking you for lunch tomorrow. Since we will be at sea all day today and tomorrow, I thought it was the ideal opportunity to repay you and get to know each another better. If you will, let me know by this evening so the chef can prepare something special. I'll look forward to your call.

Sincerely,

Mark Vilos

Crissy wanted to wad the invitation up and throw it in the wastebasket, but it suddenly occurred to her that she might be making a mistake. She wondered if Mark had somehow gotten word of the investigation into her harassment and was consequently trying to make himself look good in her eyes and to the men in Security. If that's what he was doing, she reasoned, it was a good move. A guilty man surely wouldn't ask her to lunch, would he?

If she accepted his invitation, she wouldn't be taking a risk, she thought. Someone from the security detail was going to be posted near her at all times, so she wouldn't be in any danger, would she? Besides, she would alert Christopolous and Luca as to her whereabouts beforehand. Lunch with Mark Vilos might offer the perfect opportunity to find out if he was the person who'd been making the calls and then gotten into her cabin to destroy her underwear. She thought his reclusive behavior very odd. He hardly left his cabin—he'd told her so himself. That seemed to fit the profile of a man who would slash a woman's underwear.

Having lunch with him would answer some of the questions she had about him. She went to the telephone and dialed his cabin.

He picked up on the third ring. “Hello.”

“Hi, it's Crissy.”

“I'm so glad to hear from you,” he replied. “Will you come to lunch?”

“I'd be delighted to,” Crissy said. “What time?”

“About one,” he said, “if that's convenient for you.”

“I'll be there,” Crissy said.

“Great,” Mark said. “I'll look forward to it. I hope you're enduring the storm okay.”

“Yes,” she said. “The scopolamine patches seem to be working for me.”

“I use them, too,” he said. “Even growing up on ships, I can get seasick in these conditions.”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she said. “Thanks for the flowers, Mark. They're really beautiful.”

“You're welcome.”

“Till tomorrow then,” Crissy said.

She replaced the receiver in its cradle.
I'll call Christopolous and tell Luca later,
she thought. Then they would be in place.

Mina, Rudy, and Monika were seated when the maître d' took her to the table, but Jenny's and Dr. Von Meckling's chairs were empty.

“Hi,” Crissy said.

“Hallo,” Mina and Rudy said in unison.

Monika nodded and looked at her appraisingly.

“We're saving champagne until the storm is over,” Rudy said. “Too much of it is ending up lost, if you know what I mean.”

Crissy laughed. “Have any of you been seasick?”

“I was just a little,” Mina said, “but I think it's passed. Rudy hasn't felt a thing. How about you, Monika?”

She shook her head. “Oh, no,” she said. “I wear the patches, and I've been through much worse than this. I never get sick.”

“Have you been okay?” Mina asked Crissy.

“I've been fine,” Crissy said, “at least as far as the storm goes.”

Monika looked at her quizzically. “What do you mean? Has something else happened? Another one of your telephone calls?”

“That and more,” Crissy said.

Jenny and Dr. Von Meckling arrived together and took their seats.

After greetings all around, Monika looked at Jenny. “Your friend was just about to tell us the latest distasteful episode with the caller.”

“Oh, that,” Jenny said, tossing her head, her hair swinging back.

When Crissy didn't continue, Monika prodded her. “Please finish, Crissy,” she said. “Now you've begun, we must hear the rest.”

“I got back to my cabin last evening, and someone had been in and slashed my underwear to pieces and left it on the bed,” she said.