Steele-Faced (Daggers & Steele Book 6) (12 page)

“What?
Me?”
Theo pushed himself as far back into his chair as he could and shrunk down, trying to hide among the padding. “I didn’t tell you to go all in. That was all you!”

I stood up and put my hands out in an appeasing manner, all while a pair of the ship’s security officers came in through the door in response to the noise.

“Settle down, Jimmy,” I said. “You knew the risks when you signed up for this, same as we did. It’s a game of chance as much as it is skill.”

Jimmy glared at me with burning, whiskey-fueled eyes as the two guards converged on him, taking positions at his sides. One of them gestured toward the door. “Sir?”

“Don’t touch me,” said Jimmy. “I can see myself out. And I hope all of you rot in hell.”

Jimmy snapped his jacket over his shoulders and stormed out the exit. Boos rained down on him as he left.

To her credit, Patty didn’t miss a beat. She gathered the cards and helped move the pile of chips to Verona’s spot. After shuffling the cards, she set them aside. “I apologize for that unpleasantness,” she said, as if she’d had anything to do with the matter, “but on that note, I think it’s time we break for the evening. We’ll resume the tournament tomorrow morning at eight o’clock sharp.”

I crossed to Steele’s chair to help her from her seat. “Doing alright?”

“Of course,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

I shrugged. “Jimmy’s outburst.” Theo had crossed to the bar, but he still looked shaken. A brazen front could only get you so far when you were a gnome going up against a troll-hybrid.

“As if I haven’t dealt with worse.”

“It’s just that it was very…violent,” I said. “And sudden.”

I think Steele figured out I was thinking about more than what happened at the poker table. “Would you care to head to our quarters to discuss it in more detail?”

I held out my arm for Steele to take. “Let’s.”

18

I unlocked the door to our stateroom, held it open for Shay, and locked it behind us. Shay took a seat in one of the opulent chairs in our living room, and I joined her, seating myself across from her.

“So,” said Shay. “I take it you have theories about Jimmy you wanted to run by me?”

“Theories might be too strong a word,” I said. “These are loose collections of thoughts I haven’t sifted through yet.”

“Hunches, then? Inklings? Misgivings?”

“Even suspicions and funny feelings.”

“Well why don’t you fetch me a glass of water and a thesaurus while you figure out which.”

I stood and crossed to our bar, where I lifted a pitcher and pulled a glass off a rack. “The point is, I’m concerned by Jimmy’s behavior. It should be obvious why. The guy’s established himself as hotheaded and violent, and those are traits to be aware of when searching for a guy who just stabbed someone else in the back. And let’s not ignore the fact that he’s big, tall, and strong. For him, it would’ve been easy to—”

“Daggers?”

“Yes?” I set the glass of water on the coffee table in front of Steele.

“The couch cushions are misaligned. Someone’s been in our cabin again.”

I swore. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Okay, standard protocols. Check for stowaways, see if any of our personal belongings are missing, and keep an eye out for evidence that might’ve been left behind.”

I checked Shay’s room first, in the wash closet and under the bed, to make sure she’d be safe before retiring to my own quarters. There I sifted through my bags of clothes and shoes again, which I still hadn’t unpacked. Everything seemed to be there, although I had no idea if it was precisely where I’d left it or not. My sense of placement with regards to minutiae wasn’t nearly as acute as Shay’s.

From there, I moved to my chair, over which I’d draped the tuxedo I’d worn the night prior. As I checked the pockets, Shay joined me.

“Don’t tell me you forgot to hang this up,” she said.

“I didn’t forget,” I said. “I chose to leave it here.”

“But there’s a crease in the jacket, now,” she said. “It’ll need to be pressed before tonight’s opera.”

“Opera?”

“The Pirates of St. Gustifere,
by Smotrycz and Gullivan. What did you think we were doing tonight?”

“I hadn’t given it any thought,” I said. “But more important than the jacket at the moment is whether or not you found anything missing in your room. Or anything added, if that makes any sense.”

Shay shook her head. “All my belongings are where I left them, more or less. I could tell someone had been through them, though. As for clues? No obvious ones. Whoever went through it was careful.”

“You know, I’m really starting to miss our CSU team,” I said. “Remind me to buy them a round of drinks when we get back.”

“Do you think it was the same person who broke in last night?”

I finished with the jacket pockets. Nothing missing. “Not unless the person who broke in last night was Wanda, because I know for a
fact
it was her who busted in here.”

Shay lifted an eyebrow. “You do?”

“When I say fact, I mean it’s another hunch. Why else would she have ditched me through the greenhouse? Nobody else was missing during the lunch hour.”

“Just because she caught onto your tail and managed to lose you doesn’t mean she came here afterwards,” said Shay. “She might’ve been up to something nefarious elsewhere, or she might’ve not been up to anything at all but rather suspected
you
of misdeeds. And you’re wrong. She wasn’t the only one missing during lunch. Johann and his men had already left, and Verona hopped out of the dining room early.”

“All true,” I said, “but you’re not supposed to point it out. You’re supposed to buttress my hunches with facts that prove my point.”

Shay tilted her head and lifted her brows. “Daggers…”

I heard a knock at the door. I shared a glance with Shay before moving to the front and opening it. It was Steck.

I nodded him in and closed the door behind him. “About time you showed up. I don’t suppose you’ve noticed anyone other than us coming in and out of our room, have you?”

Steck narrowed his eyes. “Pardon?”

Steele joined us in the living room. “We’ve had two break-ins. One while we were out last night and another at some point today during the poker tournament.”

“You’re sure?” asked Steck.

“This is kind of what Steele does,” I said. “Trust me, she’s sure.”

Steck sighed and threw up his hands. “Look, I don’t know. I’ve barely been around. But I can ask. Some of the crew might’ve seen something. I’ll…add it to my to-do list.”

“Long day?” asked Steele.

Steck nodded. “You could say that. It’s been challenging isolating all of the staff from last night’s events, but I’ve met with all of them now and taken their statements. And I’ve had a chance to go through said statements and try to find common ground between what they claimed.”

“And?” I said.

Steck pointed at the water glass, still untouched on the coffee table. “May I? I’m parched.”

Steele gave him the go ahead.

Steck took a long draught. “Ah. Better. Okay. First, the bad news. No one saw anyone entering or exiting the luggage compartment. I talked to several of the crew that work on the lower levels and gave them descriptions of the people in the poker tournament, but they couldn’t even confirm if they’d seen any of them at all, much less near the hold. I can’t blame them. With last night being the first aboard the
Prodigious,
everyone’s face is fresh. Hard to distinguish one partier from the next.”

“But there’s good news?” said Steele.

“To an extent,” said Steck. “The bartenders, waiters, and waitresses from last night’s mixer all agree. Verona Quivven, Jimmy Frazier, and Theo Hornshoe were in the bar area throughout the evening. None of them left for more than a few minutes at a time, probably to use the facilities. If Detective Steele is right that Johann’s man died roughly thirty minutes before our crewman, James, found him, then that eliminates them as suspects. If we also assume Johann or one of his other guards didn’t kill the man, that narrows the suspect pool even further.”

“Don’t ever assume anything in this business,” I said. “But you’re sure about Jimmy?”

“I’m only sure of the waitstaff’s testimony,” said Steck. “But they all agreed. Remember, I interviewed them individually. Why? Do you have reason to suspect him?”

“Verona eliminated Jimmy from the competition prior to breaking for the day,” said Shay. “He didn’t take it well. He blew up, making threats and throwing furniture. But we don’t have any specific reason to suspect him of the murder—unless there’s something you failed to mention to me, Daggers. We did get sidetracked with me discovering evidence of another intrusion.”

I pursed my lips. “Nothing specific. I mean, there are various elements of Lumpty’s murder that would seem to eliminate certain parties. The angle of the wound would indicate a downward trajectory of the blade into Lumpty’s back, making it difficult for someone short like Theo or Orrin to have dealt the blow. Similarly, the blade pierced pretty deep. Someone weak like Wanda might’ve had difficulty mustering up the strength for that. But short people can jump or dive off stacks of luggage, and even weak people are capable of surprising feats of strength when faced with stressful situations. Rather, I was more concerned with Jimmy’s overall behavior during the afternoon poker session.”

“You mean his drinking?” said Shay.

“Well that’s part of it,” I said. “Jimmy’s playing behavior changed from the morning to the afternoon. He started to get looser with his bets, and from the hands he played, I’d say he made some mistakes. His drinking would explain that. It could’ve made him cocky and reckless, but why was he drinking to that extent in the first place? Theo was being a prick when he said it, but he was right. Poker’s a thinking man’s game. If you drink that much, you’re going to lose.”

“Unless you’re Verona,” said Steele.

“Even she slowed down in the afternoon,” I said. “And she got lucky with the river in the hand that eliminated Jimmy. But my point is Jimmy seems like a guy who’s played a hand or two. And he’d know better than to get that sloppy, or to bet the way he did.”

“What are you getting at?” asked Shay.

“He bet five thousand crowns with an off suit jack ten starting hand,” I said. “Then he went all in with two pair. It turned out Verona didn’t have him beat right off the bat, but he couldn’t have known that. All I’m saying is that if I wanted to make my exit, that’s how I’d do it, and I’d be sure to throw a fit at the end like he did.”

“You think Jimmy threw the hand?” asked Shay. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But there’s supposed to be some sort of fraud going on here. If Jimmy did throw the hand, there must be a logical reason for it.”

Steck snapped his fingers. “See?
This.
This is exactly why I brought the two of you on. The Captain said if there was even a whiff of corruption, you two would sniff it out. It’s possible someone paid Jimmy to lose, or someone’s blackmailing him—and maybe others—toward financial gain. So what else have you noticed?”

“That’s not enough?” I asked.

“I…well…” Steck sighed. “Sorry. It’s been a long day, and stuff that’s actually related to vice excites me. Trust me, I’d rather be playing card games than talking to waiters and waitresses.”

“You know what I don’t get?” said Shay. “Johann. He’s one of our prime suspects, one of his men dies the night before the tournament starts, and yet he’s the first one out.”

“It doesn’t mean he’s not involved,” I said. “As I said. Assume nothing.”

“I suppose so.” Shay chewed her lip, and we all contemplated our thoughts for a moment. Then Shay clapped her hands. “Either way, we need to get moving. The opera is set to begin in a couple hours, which sounds like a lot of time, but considering we haven’t eaten and still need to get into our evening wear, I’d say it’s pretty tight.”

“We need to change
again?”
I asked.

“You remember when I asked about your tuxedo jacket?” said Steele. “There was a reason for that.”

“Right,” I said. “Steck, I don’t suppose you’ve gotten that list of passengers with luggage in the compartment where Lumpty was murdered, do you?”

Steck slapped his forehead. “Dang it. I knew I was forgetting something. My fault. I’ll get it tonight. Anything else you need?”

“Well, actually…” I glanced toward my quarters. “Do you know how to press a tuxedo?”

Steck took his time answering. “I’m going to regret asking that question, aren’t I?”

“I think you already do. But seriously, leave it hanging in my closet for when Steele and I get back from dinner. And if you could tidy up a little while you’re at it…”

Shay frowned. “Daggers…”

“Kidding,”
I said. “Your toil is appreciated. I’ll owe you one.”

19

I tapped my fingers on the armrest of my chair. I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the sitting room and contemplated the nature of time. I continued to tap.

“Are you about ready?” I called out.

Steele’s voice drifted over from her room, slightly muffled by the closed door. “Almost. Give me another five minutes.”

“Five minutes…” I tapped my fingers some more. When Steele mentioned we had a little over two hours until the start of the opera, I’d figured we’d have plenty of time, especially considering the speed with which the waitstaff in the restaurant had served us breakfast and lunch. This time around, the waitresses and cooks hadn’t disappointed, but I hadn’t accounted for the glacial pace of female preparation.

“You know,” I said in a voice loud enough to be heard, “it surprises me the disparity in time it takes for men and women to get dressed, specifically in regards to formal attire. Women clothe themselves in a dress, shoes, a few pieces of jewelry, and undergarments, unless they’re feeling frisky, whereas men end up donning at least three times as many items. I’m wearing underwear, slacks, a shirt, a vest, a coat, socks, shoes, and a tie, not to mention cuff links and shirt studs. So tell me, given all that, why does it take women three times as long as men to prepare? That’s a ninefold disparity in the ratio of clothes put on per unit of time.”