Chapter 20

20

TUESDAY MORNING

After Guido and his team had headed off, I sat in the cabin for a few minutes and considered my next steps. Part of me would have loved to be zooming across the bay with him – and I felt sure my four-legged friend would have loved it as well – but of course, my current remit was not arms smuggling but embezzlement. As far as the murder investigation was concerned, it was of course still possible that the perpetrator or perpetrators were to be found aboard the Poseidon or in the cells at the Carabinieri station, but, in the wake of the second death here on this yacht, it seemed ever more likely that both murders had been committed by one of the people around me now. In consequence, I couldn't help still having a keen desire to help root out the killer. As far as the missing millions were concerned, the first problem I faced was that, having been engaged to try to identify the perpetrator, I now had to report back to one of the two prime suspects. And the other one was dead.

Before going upstairs to speak to Edgar Beaumont, I wanted to sit down with Martin Grey, but first I needed to decide exactly what questions to throw at him. It occurred to me that I could give Oscar a quick run while I worked things out in my head, and the only place he could do that was back on dry land. I left the cabin and made my way towards the stern of the boat until I reached the stairs leading down to the watersports platform. Here I found two deckhands sitting on the side of one of the rubber dinghies that had been pulled up onto the deck.

I hadn't been involved in interviewing any of the crew, so I hastened to capitalise on this opportunity even though I knew this was unlikely to shed any light on the missing millions. I recognised Christopher immediately, but the woman beside him was unfamiliar to me. The badge on her chest identified her as Jeanne and I presumed that she must be the Frenchwoman mentioned by Guido as Heinrich Schiller's companion in Portofino last night. As such, this probably made her the last person to see him alive – apart from the murderer, of course. Christopher started to get to his feet when he saw me, but I waved him back to his place and took a seat on the side of the other dinghy opposite them both while Oscar wandered over to say hello.

‘I just came out for some air. I've been interviewing some of your guests.' I didn't say in connection with what. The embezzlement was of course a closely guarded company secret so these two naturally assumed that I was involved with the murder investigation. Christopher was the first to ask about it.

‘Have you made any progress? Jeanne and I've just been saying how creepy it is to think that we're on a boat with a murderer.'

‘And a murderer who's maybe killed twice.' Jeanne's accent was noticeably French but she spoke English fluently. She was a fit-looking woman probably in her late twenties with a really short urchin cut that emphasised her no-nonsense look. I could well imagine her climbing to the top of a hundred-foot mast or diving over the stern to clear seaweed from a rudder. To be honest, I know very little about boats, so maybe nobody does those kinds of things these days, but she certainly looked an experienced sailor.

I shrugged. ‘I'm sure the lieutenant's making progress but I don't really know how the investigation's going. I gather he's gone off somewhere now, so maybe he and his team will come back with a bit more information. I'm just on the periphery of the investigation really.'

Christopher caught my eye for a moment. ‘Martin told me you were a private eye. Is that right?'

There was no point in denying it. ‘That's right, I work out of Florence but I was only here on holiday, at least until the murder of Jerome Van der Groot got me involved.' It was interesting that the deckhand was on first-name terms with Martin Grey. As such, this probably made him better informed about the dynamics of the group than I had expected so I took advantage. ‘I imagine Martin's as concerned as everybody else.'

Christopher nodded but I noticed a sour expression pass across the Frenchwoman's face. I was keen to see what might be behind it so I kept the conversation on Grey.

‘He's very well known on British TV. Even I remember him and I've been living here in Italy for a couple of years now. I suppose you must meet lots of celebrities on your yacht.'

Christopher answered with another nod of the head but I noticed Jeanne roll her eyes. I waited until she looked across at me and then very gently queried her reaction to Grey's name.

‘Would I be right in thinking that you aren't a fan of Mr Grey, Jeanne?'

She grimaced. ‘You could say that. He's one of the guests, and so we have to treat them all with courtesy but, in return, would it hurt them to treat us with a bit of courtesy?'

I had a feeling I already knew what would be coming next but I asked all the same. ‘Was he a bit of a pest?'

‘A bit of a pest? He actually smacked me on my bottom and propositioned me.'

‘What did you say to him when he did that?'

‘There was a lot I wanted to say to him but I love my job so I just said nothing and reported it to Simon… the purser. Simon's a good guy but he knows the ethos here just as well as I do – the customer is always right. The words he used were, "Grin and bear it". Well, I certainly haven't been grinning and I've been making sure I stay clear of Martin Grey.'

‘That sounds like a very sensible idea, and I can imagine your anger. I used to be in the police back in the UK, and smacking somebody's bottom would definitely be considered sexual assault. You could press charges against him if you wanted.' I saw her give me an expression that quite clearly said, You must be joking , and all I could do was give her a sympathetic look in return before continuing. ‘I gather from your captain that relations between crew and guests are frowned on, and I can see why. Tell me, does any of it go on? I'm thinking in particular about this latest murder victim, Heinrich Schiller.'

I couldn't miss the way they both exchanged glances before the Frenchwoman answered. ‘I liked Rick – that's what he preferred to be called, rather than his German name – but only in small doses. When he first joined the crew, he almost immediately tried it on with me and the other girls, and we all told him quite clearly to keep his hands to himself. In fairness, he did. I've never had any trouble with him since and I'm pretty sure it's the same for the others.'

I looked across at her companion. ‘What about you, Christopher? How did you get on with him?'

I had to wait before he managed to compose his answer, and there was an apologetic look on his face as he spoke. ‘Look, I'm sorry he's dead, and it's awful that he died in such a gruesome way.' He caught my eye for a moment and I could see the anguish on his face. ‘I was on anchor watch last night and when I did my rounds just before midnight, I found him lying just over there in a pool of blood.' His voice was choked and I could see that he was still in shock. And no wonder. ‘He was curled up in a ball, stone dead, and even from a distance, I could see that his throat had been cut – well, slashed really. I've never seen a dead body before and it looked like a scene from a horror movie but, if I'm honest, I suppose it didn't really surprise me that much.'

‘What, the fact that he was murdered?'

‘Well, murder no, that's totally over the top, but he did have a habit of making himself unpopular. He was always finding reasons for coming on watch late or getting out of doing jobs, and a number of us have noticed things going missing. I've been convinced for some time that he's been stealing but, without catching him red-handed, there was nothing I could do. And if you speak to the captain, I'm sure she'll tell you about the trouble there's been over the past few months involving him and some of our female guests.'

I nodded. ‘I had heard something about that but I'll go and speak to the captain again. Tell me, do either of you think he was carrying on with any of this group?' Again, I couldn't miss the exchange of looks between them. It was Christopher who answered first.

‘I've not been aware of anything particular, apart from a running commentary from him about some of the women in their bikinis. He was only too willing to volunteer for lifeguard duty, but I'm quite sure that was just so he could be around the pool ogling the women.'

‘But you don't think he was actually physically involved with anybody before his death?'

Christopher shook his head but Jeanne didn't look so sure. ‘Like Chris, I haven't seen anything myself, but Maggie said something about seeing him sneaking around the guest cabins.'

‘Maggie?'

‘Maggie in Hospitality. She and Jess are responsible for general cleaning, laundry, that sort of thing.' She glanced at the watch on her wrist. ‘If you want to speak to her, she'll probably be either in the laundry or in the saloon helping to get things ready for lunch.'

I glanced at my watch and saw that it was almost eleven o'clock. Oscar still needed a walk, so I decided to beg a lift back to Portofino in the launch and then come back a little later. Pre-lunch drinks yesterday had been at twelve forty-five or so and we had sat down to eat at one, so as long as I was back by noon, I reckoned I would be able to speak to the captain, Martin Grey and Edgar Beaumont without interfering with their meal schedule. As for me, after all the food I'd been eating in the last few days, I resolved to go back to Portofino after that for one of the excellent focaccia snacks Anna and I had had on the first day, rather than face another cordon bleu feast. I was sure Oscar would have disagreed with me on this, but I could already feel my belt a little tight around my waist and I knew Anna would notice when I saw her next.

When I asked for a lift, saying I just wanted to pop back to dry land for half an hour or so, Christopher made a helpful suggestion. ‘Why don't you take one of these dinghies? It'll be lunchtime soon so we won't need it for an hour or two. Just make sure you don't leave it where it would be in the way of the ferry. They get very annoyed if you do that.'

He slid one of the dinghies back into the water and showed me how to start the engine. Although this was all new to me, it wasn't exactly rocket science and I quickly got the hang of it. What was really interesting was to see how Oscar took to being in something a lot smaller than the launch and a lot nearer the water. I set off gently with him standing excitedly at the front, tail wagging, and I was just wondering whether I should clip him onto his lead in case he decided to go for a swim when the inevitable happened. He turned, glanced momentarily at me with a beaming canine smile on his hairy face and, before I could wag my finger at him and tell him no, he had leapt into the water.

I throttled back and managed to manoeuvre the dinghy alongside him. Trying to get him back into the boat without soaking myself in the process turned out to be an impossibility so in the end, I just chugged very gently into the port while he doggy-paddled happily alongside me, snorting every now and then and looking for all the world like a seal. It took almost ten minutes and I felt sure he would sleep well tonight as a result. It occurred to me that this had been from the Regal Princess 's current mooring close to the shore. It was just as well he hadn't pulled this trick where the yacht had been anchored on Saturday night. Even a healthy young dog like Oscar would have taken a long, long time and probably exhausted himself trying to swim almost a kilometre.

I guided him over to the far end of the promenade where a handful of fishing boats were moored up and he was able to exit the water without too much difficulty by walking up the old stone slipway. It was a bit slippery, with green weed below the waterline, but he manged fine. I was just hunting around for somewhere to moor the boat when I heard a voice from the quay a metre above me.

‘Buongiorno, Commissario.' It was Officer Solaro of the Coastguard. Oscar recognised him immediately and headed over to him, tail wagging. I just had time to shout a warning so that Solaro could jump backwards to avoid being soaked as Oscar set about shaking himself violently, sending ‘Eau de Labrador' all over the place, mercifully avoiding any passing tourists. The last thing I needed was a bill for a designer dress ruined by my dog trying to dry himself. I shouted an apology, but the young officer just gave me a smile.

‘I'm fine, I know what dogs are like. If you're looking for somewhere to moor up, there's a ring just over there.' He pointed towards a massive iron ring set into the stone of the jetty and I chugged across to it and tied up. Getting out proved slightly tricky but Solaro very kindly bent down and gave me a helping hand.

‘I didn't know you were a sailor, Signor Armstrong.'

‘Call me Dan. Everybody does.' I gave him a rueful smile. ‘I'm sure you can see that I'm not much of a sailor, but the guys on the Regal Princess told me driving a dinghy was dead easy. Unfortunately, they forgot to tell Oscar he was meant to stay in the boat.' We shook hands and I asked him if there was anything new on the investigation but, as it turned out, I probably knew more than he did. I gave him a brief summary of what had happened so far and queried why he hadn't gone off across the bay to check out the Poseidon as well. Now it was his turn to give me a rueful smile.

‘The port captain came back from his trip to South Africa overnight and he's gone with Sara, my colleague, and the Carabinieri officers. The boss likes to be involved when something exciting's happening.' He glanced at Oscar. ‘Your dog swims well. Maybe you should enter him for the Miglio Blu , the Blue Mile race. Hundreds of people take part every autumn in a swim along the coast between here and Santa Margherita.'

‘A mile? That's way too far. No, I think a couple of hundred metres like today is more than enough. I wouldn't want to lose him.'

His expression became more serious. ‘The lieutenant seems to think that the murderer is one of the people on the Regal Princess . Are you any nearer to finding out who it was?'

The two of us wandered over to an old stone bench against the wall beneath the cliffs of Castello Brown. There was nobody within earshot so I told him what I had so far.

‘I have no concrete proof against anybody, but the way I see it, there are four possible motives at play here: either Van der Groot was killed by the person who's been stealing millions from the TV company – maybe the killer had even been in cahoots with Van der Groot himself – or he was killed by a furious TV personality who had just been sacked, or he was killed by a female actor who'd been forced to have sex with him and couldn't take it any longer. The fourth possibility is less likely and that's that it was done by somebody in the accounts department who discovered Van der Groot had stolen the money and killed him so as to avoid a scandal. However, I don't really think that one's credible.'

Paolo Solaro nodded. ‘And what about the second murder? Was the deckhand killed because he knew too much?'

I nodded approvingly. ‘That's pretty much the conclusion we've come to. The lieutenant said the man had a history of blackmail and extortion so we're increasingly confident that he must have seen something on Saturday night and he approached the murderer for money. Unfortunately for him, he ended up dead as a result.'

‘What about this female actor you mentioned? Which one is she? The gorgeous redhead or the sexy blonde?'

I wasn't totally sure that his descriptions of Tamsin and Susie would have made it onto a formal case report but they were undoubtedly accurate. I smiled back at him. ‘Susie Upton, the blonde. I'm not sure how convinced I am that she might have been a killer or, indeed, that she might have been trading sexual favours for promotion. As far as I can tell, that was maybe just a story put about by one of the other main suspects, Martin Grey. I don't know if you remember him.'

Solaro nodded. ‘The mouthy one with the cheesy smile. Yes, I remember thinking he was a pain when we interviewed him. I'm not sure if I can see him as a killer, but I have to confess, I didn't really like him.' He caught my eye and said it before I could. ‘And, yes, I know that doesn't make him a murderer, but there was just something very fake about him.'

‘I feel very much the same way. Apparently, he and the first victim were both very drunk and very angry on Saturday night, so I suppose it might have led to murder. Without evidence, who knows?'

‘And your other suspect, the one you said might have been fiddling the accounts. Was that the Schwarzenegger lookalike or the other guy, Edgar something French?'

I was impressed that the young officer was able to recall the people on the yacht without having to consult his notebook and I gave him a smile as I replied.

‘That's the one: the older one, Edgar Beaumont. He's going through a nasty divorce at the moment and everybody tells me he badly needs money. That could have been a motive for embezzlement and he killed Van der Groot when he was found out. Like I say, what we need is evidence, hard evidence. The lieutenant said that they were taking fingerprints and DNA swabs this morning. You never know, we might get lucky. Whoever killed Heinrich Schiller, the deckhand, was careless enough to leave the murder weapon sticking in the body. It would be great if they also left their prints, allowing your forensics people to get a match.' I glanced at my watch. ‘Right, I'm just going for a quick walk with Oscar and then I need to get back over to the yacht to interview Martin Grey. Wish me luck.'