5 August:
“Seriously Phil, you could only get us ship passage?! A 2-week sail to Santos,
Brazil? Joshua Meadham and his man Caning left Calcutta aboard their private
plane the day after Tish’s little ‘crowning affair’. They’ll have a month start
on us.” At least they were sailing in luxury aboard the SS President
Coolidge.
Mira and Cliff wining and dining as 1st-class passengers. Excuse me, I meant Lady Mira and Sir Reginald. Cigar puffing, harrumphing, balderdashing; the pompous coot. And Ms. Mira all prim and proper in her fine jewelry. At least that’s what she passed them as; her flame-pistols wrapped around her wrists looking like fancy bracelets bedazzled with gems she added as disguise. As for Sir Reginald’s fancy side arms, “Good god man. These are part of me. Like the colt revolver ol’ Teddy Roosevelt always carried. Yes, yes, tell Captain Nelson how his good friend Reggie wouldn’t give up his cufflinks and sidearms. Now, be off before I thump you.” Mira and Cliff are ushered aboard, personally greeted by the captain himself, “Welcome aboard my fine mistress. What can my stewards serve you? Champaign?” As for who bumped into whom, Cliff surmises the drunk. An exasperated Ms. Virginia apologizes, “Oh my. Please excuse my fiancé Chad Peterson. I guess too much celebration in anticipation of our coming wedding?”
As for the others, resigned to 2nd class and a
more thorough inspection, “Thank you for the ‘tip’ sir, but you’ll have to
check that shotgun. No personal weapons allowed. The last porter who took a
bribe is now working the boiler room. Your weapons will be fine in the cargo
hold; safe and secure.” The steward Albert Hollander giving Oded’s ticket a
thorough check as if forged; really, how did a darky afford such ticket anyway.
Oded eyeing the only other non-white passengers, “Hope you have your passport
in order.” The Asian introducing himself, “I’m Dr. Soong. And this is my
assistant Mr. Wang Ma.” At least Paulo smuggles his weapons aboard, hidden
within his wheelchair and medical supplies. Yes, he could walk but the chair
offered…sympathy and averted eyes.
As they line up the gangway with passports in hand, their
eyes drift to the dock below to the cargo doors where the 3rd-class
passengers shuffle along carrying their own baggage. Each one frisked and their
suitcases dumped for closer inspection. A stockyard of cows, goats, and chicken
about to be loaded. Cars lined up. Even an expensive Bugatti racer. Pause to
stare at a large crate labeled funeral supplies, “Kind of extreme, wouldn’t you
say? Expecting trouble?” But what really catches their eyes is the
green-colored massive 6ft crate labeled ‘pipe organ’, “Now why would a pipe
organ need all those guards patrolling around it?”
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11am push away by tugs as the cruise ship pumps black
smoke and blares its horn. Lunchtime as Mira lowers her standards and mingles
with the 2nd class, “Let’s meet daily for lunch to compare notes and
plan for what lies ahead.” Paulo and Isaac off to the gym, Mira going for a
swim...in her 2-piece bathing suit. Scandalous! Virginia without Chad, “My,
aren’t you the liberated woman. Seems I’ve lost Chad to the wet-bar. First time
he’s been away from daddy’s company. Why yes, I’ll join you at the skeet
range.” Cliff wandering by, with a black eye-patch, “Aye, shiver me timbers
damsels. Catch a cold in them bare threads.” And that’s when he runs into
another tux, “No one told me it was a dress-up party. Charles Astor, at your
service. Care for a drink?”
4pm and muster drill, “20+ years since the Titanic sunk.
I think they do this just for show. I doubt the life-rafts sea-worthy.” Paulo
and Porter noticing the dark-skinned man hunched over, wearing a cowl, “August
heat of the Indian Ocean and he needs a wrap?” Paulo stepping up to chat, in
Spanish. Learning, “I’m Senor Diego Guiterrez de Almacan. A scientific journey
hoping to explore the great Amazon. I hear it’s alive with still unnamed
insects. Yes, my study. Been round the world.”
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An evening under the stars. Smooth sailing. Which keeps
the liquor flowing in the bars. Mira [CON 99] enjoying herself immensely,
unaware of the morning headache approaching. Paulo stretching his legs on the
dance floor. [Charm 92] Till the women see his stumbling (still not accustomed
to his permanent limp) and give wide berth.
6 August:
0930; All finally awake and on deck for breakfast when they hear a commotion on
Deck A. Virginia screaming. Being consoled by Astor. “I came to knock on Chad’s
door but heard clattering then found this steward exiting. Chad now missing.”
Cliff trying to intimidate the steward, “Step aside.” but Albert Hollander
standing his ground. Mira already in the room looking. Nothing but his empty clothing.
Socks inside shoes, draped with empty pants with shirt-tail still tucked in and
suspenders over the shirt. As if the man just stepped out of body and
existence. Porter slipping into the room to touch the clothing in hopes of
getting a ‘psychometry’ read…blasted with the impression the man dead.
A
shutter at the feeling of bugs crawling all over.
And that’s when Mira finds the suicide note she shows to
Virginia, “Is this really his handwriting?” Virginia grief stricken but puzzled,
“I don’t understand. I didn’t care about his money. Besides, he usually signs
his letters ‘Charles’ or ‘CCP’.” Porter now touching the steward for a
‘read’…nothing more than a petty thief. Accusing Albert, they search his
pockets: nothing of value nor belongs of Chad. Isaac using the opportunity to
cast ‘Cloud Memory’ to help Albert forget the steward’s master room key Isaac
keeps. Oded interrogating the passenger next door, Alex Hubbard, who only sees
an opportunity to hit-on the single Virginia.
Separate ways. Cliff and Astor off to find the ship
captain with the steward in tow, “Keelhaul the guilty. Jolly good man; let’s
solve this mystery ourselves. I need a bolo-hat like one of those Agatha
Christie sleuths. Not a pipe like Sir Holmes.” Mira trying another angle:
inviting Alex along with her and Virginia to the skeet-range. Hoping to catch
one or the other in a lie but without success. Porter using his vision of bugs
to seek the Spanish entomologist, by asking the staff for his room number. ”We
have no Senor Diego aboard; not on our passenger list.” Paulo on Deck B asking
room-service about Diego. “Strange. Our Chief Purser was also looking for him.
Said something about room 213; that’s one of our unoccupied rooms. But now the
chief missing; he called a staff meeting but isn’t here to conduct it.”
Meanwhile, Oded and Isaac slip away to check the cargo
decks below. Isaac as lookout as they open the access door in the near-empty
lounge. Hold#C2 for checked baggage but unable to find their registered
weapons. One deck down to hold#D5; a teen shepherd tending cattle and other
animals. Oded offering $ to learn his “car” is stored one deck below; the
access stairs over there. #E6 is the heavier cargo: tractors, mail bags, boxes
of Cognac, 50 unlabeled barrels that don’t slosh, and a large crate labeled
“funeral supplies.” A crowbar reveals straw packed around a small man.
Looking
closer, Oded recognizes, “That’s a Tcho-Tcho I encountered in the mountains of
Nepal. See his sharpened teeth. And how they’ve cut his gut open to release any
gas buildup.” Curiosity bringing them back to the barrels. The crowbar
revealing dried leaves. Oded smells and vaguely remembers [Natural World], “A
native plant that causes paralysis.”
Returning to D5, Isaac tips the boy, “Thanks, my car was
in good order. Do you know who else has access to that hold? Which staff? Why
boiler-room workers?” Another tip to help the boy forget their presence. Till
they run into Paulo and Porter descending the stairs. Porter asks Isaac for the
master key (which Oded produces – a little sleight-of-hand) before climbing
back up. With a wink, Paulo talking the others into returning to the barrels,
“The leaves would be a ‘good food seasoning’ for those pipe-organ guards.”
Meanwhile, Mira finishes her gun lessons and wanders deck
A. Where she runs into Miles Hardaway. “Don’t mind my 3rd class
ticket; my San Francisco reporter badge gives me access to all decks. I’m looking
for a good story. Know of any scandals? Mr. Alex Hubbard taking an interest in
Ms. Virginia now that her betrothed Chad is gone? That’s better than my thought
guns were being smuggled to aid the Bolivian war. If you hear of anything else,
you can reach me in room 336.” Miles turns, only to run into a magnifying
glass. In the hands of Cliff, “I say Astor, I might have found something. A man
without a drink in his hand. Suspicious indeed.”
Anyone on deck B might have noticed Porter pressing his
ear to the door before knocking then unlocking room 213. Dark. Scurrying
noises. But when he turns the lights on, no movement. Only the husks of
insects. He kneels to peer under the broken bed. Where he spies a pool of red
liquid. The tint of iron in the air. Pushing the bed aside, he startles at the
sight of large bugs feasting on chunks of flesh! A gasp before he spots a badge
labeled ‘Chief Purser.” His hopes of a psychometry touch fails to reveal
anything.
All meet back up for dinner to compare notes. Mira distracted
when she sees a familiar face closing the cabin door behind him, “Isn’t that
Chad Peterson? But that’s not his stateroom.”
Loved the Temple of Doom picture
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