Dreamboat (35 page)

Chapter Nineteen

C
rissy returned to her cabin early to change clothes for breakfast, then went back to put on a swimsuit. The day at sea was beautiful, and she decided to spend most of it sunning on the pool deck. But before she had the chance, there was a knock on the door, and it startled her. Who on earth? she wondered. Crossing to it, she opened the cabin door slightly and saw Mikelos.

“Hi,” she said, swinging the door back. “Come in.”

Mikelos stepped just inside the door. “Would you come with me down to Security?”

“Sure,” Crissy replied. “Let me get my shoulder bag.” She fetched it from the chair where she'd dropped it earlier. “What is it, Mikelos?” she asked, rejoining him at the door.

“You'll see,” he said, going back out into the hallway.

She followed him to the stairwell, and they walked down to Security, Crissy rushing to keep up with the big man's gait. At the Deck Two landing, still curious, Crissy asked, “Mikelos, has something happened? Please, tell me.”

He kept walking. “You'll see,” he repeated.

They reached Security, and he opened the door and held it for her. Crissy stepped into the office. “We're going in there,” Mikelos said, indicating another door. He swung it open, and Crissy went into the adjoining office. She was surprised to see Monika sitting at a desk, her big gold pocketbook in her lap.

“Hello, Monika,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

Monika's lips were fixed in a tight slash of red, and she didn't respond to Crissy.

“Here,” Mikelos said, waving a hand at a chair. “Have a seat, Crissy.”

“Thank you,” she replied, sitting down, her curiosity more aroused than ever.

She watched as Mikelos went to a wall switch and dimmed the lights. The room was almost dark, but as her eyes adjusted, Crissy could see what he was doing. “I have something I want you to look at,” he said, nodding toward an array of monitors on a long, narrow built-in desk. “Both of you.”

He picked up a small videocassette from where it lay on the desk and slipped it into a player. One of the monitors came to life, casting off a pale, flickering light in the room. In the upper right-hand corner of the screen, Crissy saw that the time was noted, the seconds ticking off one by one. Her attention was momentarily averted from the screen when she saw Mikelos reach for the dimmer switch again, turning the light all the way down.

Refocusing on the monitor, Crissy immediately recognized one of the ship's public telephones. The picture, although it was black and white, was of excellent quality. She almost gasped, suddenly realizing why Mikelos had brought her here. He had succeeded in capturing her mysterious caller on video.

The monitor was static for several seconds, as the time continued to tick by in the upper right-hand corner. Abruptly there was movement, and Monika's unmistakable figure appeared, her big gold pocketbook in hand. Crissy watched as the woman placed the pocketbook on the carpeting. With one hand she picked up the receiver, then she pressed in a number, using the long, lacquered nails of the other.

Fascinated but simultaneously repulsed, Crissy saw Monika turn slightly, her profile captured by the camera. The woman began breathing in and out, her mouth almost touching the telephone receiver, her every intake and expulsion of breath visible on the monitor. After several seconds, she replaced the receiver in its cradle, then turned around. She stood facing the camera. Crissy watched as Monika began to laugh. For a moment, she held one of her bejeweled hands at her stomach, as if to calm its heaving, then she moved it up to her mouth, covering her lips, the rings on her fingers reflecting light. Finally, her merriment contained, she
reached down and picked up her gold pocketbook by its handles and strode out of the camera's range.

Mikelos turned the dimmer switch, and the room was bathed in light again. “So you can see who's been harassing you, Crissy,” Mikelos said.

Crissy gazed over at Monika, who sat mutely staring into the distance, her lips still fixed in a scarlet line. She looked, Crissy thought, as if she was in another world, refusing to accept the reality of this one. Crissy wanted to slap her face, yet at the same time, she felt pity for the woman.
Why?
she wondered.
What would drive her to do such a thing?

Clearing her throat, Crissy asked her. “Monika,” she said, “why did you do this?”

Monika continued to stare into the distance, refusing to acknowledge Crissy's question.

“I used to think that you were my friend,” Crissy said. She felt on the verge of tears, but was determined not to shed any. “I don't understand why you would do such a thing.”

Mikelos stood near the wall watching, but didn't interfere. He wanted Crissy to have her chance to get some answers before he began his own questioning.

Monika took a deep breath. “I—I was just playing a little joke,” she murmured. She flicked a glance at Crissy out of the corner of her eye.

“A joke!” Crissy exclaimed. “You had me scared half to death. I can imagine how you would react if somebody did something like that to you.”

“I—I didn't mean any harm,” Monika said. “I really didn't.”

Crissy felt compelled to slap her again, she was so enraged, but she restrained herself. She wondered if Monika's words had a grain of truth in them. Was she jealous, as Luca had suggested? Was she sick? She didn't know, but whatever the reason, she found Monika's behavior reprehensible.

The room was silent, Monika now staring at the floor, one hand at her brow, agitated fingers hiding her eyes, as if she didn't want anyone to see tears that might well up in them.

“The telephone calls may have been like a mean, childish joke,” Crissy said, “but tearing up my underwear was . . . was sick, Monika. Really sick.” She paused, waiting for a reaction, but none was forthcoming. “How did you get in my cabin, anyway?”

“I . . . I had Jenny's key card,” Monika replied in a barely audible voice. “I'd borrowed it from her earlier because I had to go to the ladies' room, and your cabin was close by.”

“Do you still have it?” Crissy asked.

Monika shook her head. “Oh, no. Of course not.” She voice choked. “I-I don't know what possessed me.” She gazed at Crissy with pleading eyes. “I-I didn't mean any real harm.”

Crissy glared at the older woman. Monika looked like an old, broken doll slumped in the chair. Worse, she looked pathetic.

“Do you want to press charges?” Mikelos asked quietly.

Crissy shifted nervously in her chair, wondering what to do. Monika deserved nothing better, she thought. She could really cause trouble for the woman. She was a minor celebrity in Europe, and if word got out of her misadventures aboard the
Sea Nymph,
it would be very embarrassing for her, if nothing else. Word would probably leak out anyway. Mikelos would inevitably tell his pals in Security, and the tale would spread, no doubt reaching Vienna in a matter of weeks, if not hours.

Crissy gazed at Monika, the hand at her brow shaking slightly. “Will this be the end of it, Monika?” she asked.

The head, topped by its wild Medusa-like hair, nodded. “Oh, yes, Crissy,” she said softly. She rummaged in her gold back and extracted a Kleenex. “I-I will never . . . play a joke like this again.”

“Do you promise me that?” Crissy asked.

“Yes, darling,” Monika said, finally peering over at her with a pitiable expression. “I'm so very sorry. It was a silly trick to play.”

Silly doesn't even begin to describe it,
Crissy thought. “Okay,” she said. “If you promise, then I won't press charges.” She looked up at Mikelos, who stood with his arms across his chest. He nodded.

“Thank you, Crissy, darling,” Monika said. “I-I just hope you won't say anything to anyone. I see that I've done a very foolish thing, and I'm very sorry for it.” She dabbed her eyes with the Kleenex, as if wiping away tears, but Crissy didn't see any. “I hope you forgive me, darling,” she added. “Please.”

“I-I forgive you, Monika,” Crissy said, although she knew in her heart that she hadn't. Not yet. The wound that Monika had inflicted on her was still too fresh in her mind for that.

“Well, I guess that wraps it up,” Mikelos said. “That is, if you're absolutely certain, Crissy.” He gazed at her with a questioning look.

Crissy nodded. “I'm certain,” she said. “I don't see any point.”

Monika quickly rose to her feet. “Thank you, darling,” she murmured. Lifting the Kleenex to her eyes, she dabbed them again.

Maybe she imagines tears,
Crissy thought.

Monika hurried out of the room, her high heels click-clacking on the tile, letting the door slam behind her.

“I have to say that I was surprised,” Mikelos said.

“Me, too,” Crissy agreed. “I still can't believe she did it, and she claims it was just a joke!”

Mikelos shook his head. “It was no joke. She's got a twisted mind, that one.”

“I wonder why she did it,” Crissy asked him.

“Who knows? She probably envies you, Crissy,” Mikelos said. “She's not young and good-looking like you are, and she resents you.”

“Well, whatever it was,” Crissy said, rising to her feet, “this should put a stop to it. Thank God.”

Mikelos nodded.

“Thank you very much for the trouble you've gone to, Mikelos,” she said.

“It's my job,” he replied. “I'm glad we finally caught her at it.” He paused. “Would you like me to take you back up to your cabin?”

“No,” Crissy replied. “I'm . . . fine, but thanks. You've been great.”

He opened the door for her and held it, then walked her to the outer door. “Call if you need anything,” he said.

“I will.”

Crissy dropped her shoulder bag and heaved a sigh. She was relieved that her tormentor had been caught, but she had expected to feel joyous. The sight of Monika in Security had only been depressing. She remembered how she had been in awe of Monika at the start of the cruise. She'd thought the woman had everything: She was sophisticated, and she had both money and fame. She could hardly believe that such a rare creature had taken her under her wing. Now, she saw that Monika was a sad, lonely, desperate woman, her mind twisted by envy and jealousy and greed.

The telephone rang, and Crissy gazed over at it, then went to pick it up. “Hello,” she said, realizing that she no longer feared answering it.

“Crissy, it's Gudrun from the duty-free shop. How are you?”

“I'm fine,” Crissy said. “And you?”

“Oh, I'm always okay,” Gudrun said with a laugh, “but I wondered if you might be interested in a proposition that Anna, the Russian girl who runs the shop opposite me, has for you.”

“Oh, no,” Crissy said, laughing. “What is it this time? Hairpieces? Jewel-studded combs?”

“No, no,” Gudrun said. “She has some beautiful formal gowns. Absolutely beautiful. She saw you when you were all ready for the last formal night and thought you were beautiful. Anyway, she asked me to see if you would wear one of the fabulous gowns that she has. If anybody asks, you tell them where you got it. Simple. And you can keep the gown.”

“Really?” Crissy said.

“Really,” Gudrun echoed. “And it's probably a very expensive one. Why don't you come up and try some on, and we'll decide? You can wear it tonight and in the future. Think, when you and Luca get married, you are going to need lots of formal gowns.”

“When Luca and I—?” Crissy was momentarily nonplussed by Gudrun's statement.

“Oh, the whole crew knows about you and Luca, Crissy,” Gudrun said. “Didn't you realize that? They're all talking about the two of you and what a wonderful couple you make.”

“No, I didn't realize,” she responded.

“Well, so you see,” Gudrun said. “You are the talk of the ship, so you have to look especially beautiful, don't you? So I'll see you in thirty minutes or less.” With that, Gudrun hung up the phone.

Crissy replaced the receiver in its cradle and sighed, but it was a happy sigh. The telephone call took her mind off Monika. It also excited her, because the word of her relationship with Luca was out, and everyone considered it serious. She picked up her shoulder bag and headed to the door, thankful for a diversion.

She created a sensation when she walked into the dining room on the arm of the maître d'. As she proceeded to the table, heads turned, and Crissy heard gasps of delight and murmured conversation. The dress that she, Gudrun, and Anna had decided on was a full-length silk chiffon. The low-cut bodice was a dark purple entirely covered with beaded flowers that reflected the light, and the flowing skirt, layered chiffon of varying lengths in the very palest purple, was beaded in flowerlike patterns that formed bouquets at the waist, descending to sprinkled flowers and tendrils toward the hem. She wore her hair in a simple chignon at her neck with no adornment. Small amethyst studs—Gudrun's—decorated her ears, and a tiny diamond and amethyst bangle—Anna's—
was at her wrist. She carried a small golden minaudière from Anna's shop.