Chapter 22

22

TUESDAY LATE MORNING

I found Maggie in the saloon, skilfully folding freshly laundered napkins into fish shapes. She was probably in her forties and she had a friendly face. She was wearing the same regulation blue polo shirt and shorts as the other crewmembers and I spotted her name badge straight away. I went over to her and gave her a friendly smile. Oscar also trotted up to her and gave her bare knee a nudge with his nose and she looked up from her work and smiled back at both of us.

‘Hello. You're with the police, aren't you?'

I didn't enlighten her as to my precise role here. ‘My name's Dan Armstrong. I wonder if I could have a quick word. It's about the deckhand who was murdered last night.' She nodded and I looked around. For now, we were the only people in the saloon so I got straight to the point. ‘I've just been talking to the first officer and he said you were mentioning something this morning about Rick Schiller being seen around the guest accommodation. Is that correct?'

She nodded. ‘Yes, that was yesterday morning, just after ten. I was surprised to see him for two reasons: first, deckhands aren't supposed to visit the guest accommodation and, second, seeing as he'd been on anchor watch the previous night, I would have expected him to have been in bed, catching up on his sleep.' She had a lovely, singsong Welsh accent.

‘Would you be able to tell me if he spoke to anybody or if you think he'd been visiting one of the guests in their cabin?'

‘I can't, I'm afraid. All I can tell you is that he was right at the far end of the corridor and there were no guests in sight. As soon as he saw me, he came hurrying past and disappeared. He didn't speak to me and I could tell he knew he shouldn't have been there. If he'd been visiting somebody in a cabin, I imagine it must have been one of the last two: that would be Ocean Spray to port or High Tide to starboard.' Seeing the expression on my face, she explained. ‘The company think it more romantic not to give the cabins numbers, but the fancy names cause all sorts of confusion.'

I gave up trying to remember whether starboard was left and port right, or the other way round, and asked one or two other questions, but it soon became clear that this was all she'd seen, so I thanked her and left her to her napkins. A quick trip to the purser's office give me the names of the occupants of the two cabins at the end of that corridor and they turned out to be Susie Upton and Martin Grey. This, I told myself, was potentially significant. I needed time to think things through before reporting back to Edgar Beaumont, so Oscar and I walked down to the pool deck and found it completely empty. Presumably people were either not in the mood for a swim or they were back in their cabins getting ready for lunch.

I wagged my finger at Oscar, warning him under no circumstances to go for a swim, and he grudgingly settled down beside me when I took a seat at a table in the shade. Less than a minute later, one of the hospitality staff appeared and asked me if I'd like a drink. I gladly ordered an espresso and asked if she could find a bowl of water for Oscar. While waiting for her to bring our drinks, I thought back on what I'd just learned. If our blackmail theory was correct, which of the two comedians had Schiller been visiting? If his purpose had been blackmail and he had been visiting Martin Grey, I presumed it must have been in relation to the murder of Jerome Van der Groot. If Schiller had been visiting Susie Upton, this might have been for the same reason or maybe something as simple as a close encounter with the sexy actress. Even though Susie had said that Schiller hadn't been her type, Louise had said that she was no saint after all.

My musings were interrupted by the return of the waitress with, not only my coffee and a bowl of water for Oscar, but also a handful of biscuits for him. Before handing them over, she asked if it was all right to give them to him, and I swear I saw him nod before I did. When it comes to food, my Labrador displays remarkable comprehension skills.

Less than a minute after she'd left, we were joined by the familiar figure of Neil Vaughan.

‘Hello, Mr Armstrong, can I join you?'

I pushed out a chair and he sat down opposite me. He gave the deck a full 360-degree survey before leaning towards me until our heads were almost touching. When he spoke, it was in a whisper. ‘I was wondering how your investigation's coming along. Any progress?'

I decided I had nothing to lose by being honest with him. ‘Without proof, it's almost impossible, but I suppose my gut feeling is that the person embezzling all that money was either Jerome Van der Groot or Edgar Beaumont.'

He nodded a couple of times and then leant even closer to me. His voice was so low, I had to struggle to hear what he said next. ‘I think I've found something that might help. In fact, I know I have.' In response to my immediate expression of interest, he elaborated. ‘I've been back through each of the suspect bank transfers over the last twelve months, and in each case, there can be no doubt that they were all signed off by Edgar, not Jerome, and certainly not by Adam or Louise.'

I sat back and took a sip of my coffee. So it was looking very much as if we had found our thief. The question was whether Edgar Beaumont would also turn out to be a murderer .

Any further conversation was interrupted by the sight of an orange shape speeding across the water towards us, leaving a long wake of white water behind it. I immediately recognised it as the Coastguard launch and as it approached, I could see Lieutenant Guido Bertoletti standing in the cockpit with Maresciallo Veronese beside him. The boat slowed when it reached the Regal Princess and disappeared below us to land at the watersports deck. A minute later, there was the sound of feet on the stairs and both Carabinieri officers appeared, followed by the Coastguard captain and another officer. From the smiles on their faces, it was clear that things had been going well, and I couldn't wait to hear how well.

‘Have you caught the gunrunners?'

Guido came across and sat down alongside me. Neil Vaughan, realising he was encroaching on police business, jumped to his feet and tactfully disappeared up the stairs towards the saloon. The other officers sat down and Guido gave me the news.

‘Game, set and match. What a bunch of amateurs! Not only did we find a couple of shipping manifests in a bin on the boat and clear evidence of where the cases of arms had been stored in the front hold, we tracked the two men to a hotel in Lavagna, where we found them sunning themselves by the pool. Even better, when we got the manager to open the safe in their room, we found a hundred and fifty thousand euros in cash.' By now, he was positively beaming. ‘So we've got them and, hopefully, by following the paper trail, we should be able to roll up the whole gang.'

‘What about the murder of Jerome Van der Groot? What did they have to say about him?'

His smile faded. ‘Nothing, absolutely nothing. Just like Mario Fortunato, they deny ever seeing the man and vehemently deny having murdered anyone. What about here? Any progress on the embezzlement?'

I outlined what I'd just heard from Neil Vaughan and the lieutenant's smile returned. ‘Excellent. Beaumont steals the money and then when his boss finds out, Beaumont murders him and then subsequently kills the deckhand who saw him do it. Maybe we've cracked the arms-smuggling ring and solved the double murder in the same afternoon. I think we should go and have a serious talk to Mr Beaumont, don't you?'

‘I certainly do and, if I'm not treading on your toes, I'd love to sit in on the interview.'

‘Of course you can, Dan. And do ask as many questions as you like.'

‘Thank you very much but, before we do that, I need to tell you what I've learnt about two of the other suspects.'

I went on to tell him how Martin Grey had acknowledged how angry he'd been on Saturday night after effectively being fired and how he'd also pointed the finger at Susie Upton because of her extravagant taste in clothes and how he definitely believed she and Van der Groot had had a relationship. I suggested that this relationship might have soured to the extent that she decided to commit murder, although I still couldn't see Susie as a killer. Guido listened intently before passing judgement.

‘Let's see what Beaumont says when we hit him with the information that we believe him to be the person behind the theft of the millions. If he still continues to deny killing either victim and we believe him, then it looks like we've got two other very strong candidates for Van der Groot's murder. Well done, Dan.'

I called the waitress and asked her if she knew where Edgar Beaumont might be. She replied with the news that he was sitting in the saloon having a glass of Scotch. The way she said it gave the impression that this was a not unfamiliar occurrence. Rather than all troop upstairs together, Guido and I left the other officers sitting at the table and went up to confront Beaumont. When we told him we'd like to speak to him in private, he drained his glass and led us to his cabin once more. He immediately headed for the tray of drinks and poured himself another generous glass of Scotch before sitting down opposite us and enquiring how he could help. Guido didn't mince his words.

‘Edgar Beaumont, I'm now in possession of proof that you have defrauded your company of over two million pounds and you will be charged accordingly.' Ignoring the stunned expression that appeared on Beaumont's face, the lieutenant continued in the same harsh vein. ‘I now put it to you that your crime was discovered by your former boss, Jerome Van der Groot and, in order to prevent him from going to the authorities, you murdered him and then subsequently murdered Heinrich Schiller, one of the deckhands on this yacht, who threatened to expose you.'

He didn't end on a question. He didn't need to. As he'd been speaking, all the colour had drained away from Beaumont's face and I saw him swallow his whole glass of whisky in two big mouthfuls. There was silence for almost half a minute before he managed to regain the power of speech.

‘You say you have proof that I've embezzled that money?'

The lieutenant nodded. ‘Yes, and it's irrefutable.'

I thought this was exaggerating what Vaughan had said, but Beaumont appeared to accept it at face value. He looked down at his empty glass longingly before setting it on the coffee table in front of him and putting his hands together almost as if in prayer. I saw him take a big breath before he started speaking, his voice hoarse and his demeanour downcast.

‘I've been afraid of this ever since Jerome was murdered. Yes, it's perfectly true that I stole the money from the company and, like I told Jerome, I'm genuinely ashamed of what I did. I wasn't thinking straight. I've had money problems, big money problems, and it was the only solution I could think of at the time.'

He stopped for breath and I picked him up on something he'd just said. ‘You told Jerome Van der Groot you were ashamed of stealing the money? When did that happen?'

He answered automatically, his eyes still on his empty glass. ‘The end of April when he approached me about it. He had a printout of all the different transfers and we both knew that he'd got me dead to rights.' He looked up and I could see that his eyes were red-rimmed. ‘People didn't like Jerome, but he was a good man, a generous man. He told me that if I paid the money back, he wouldn't inform the authorities, and I could take early retirement without anybody ever knowing.'

Remembering what Mr Muscle had told me, I queried this. ‘My understanding is that no monies have ever been received back from you. Certainly they don't appear in the books.'

‘That was Jerome's idea, to avoid giving away that I'd done it. He opened a separate account and I've been paying into it for the last three months, gradually selling or mortgaging my assets in order to do so. I can give you the account number; it's with our same bank. For the record, that account currently holds in excess of one and a half million pounds. By the end of this year, I promised him I would finish paying everything back, and I will.'

‘I'm sure you can see, Mr Beaumont, how this could prove to be a powerful motive for murder.' The lieutenant was still sounding aggressive, although I had a feeling Beaumont had been telling the truth. ‘Until a minute ago, you were under the impression that only you and Jerome Van der Groot knew that you're a thief.' I saw Beaumont wince as he heard the last word of the sentence and as Guido continued, his already pathetic expression grew even more bleak. ‘What better way to rid yourself of the burden of repaying so much money than to murder the only person who knew what you'd done?'

‘No, no, that's impossible. I admit that I took the money and I've told you I'm paying it back, but there's absolutely no way I would ever commit murder.' He shook his head so forcefully, the table in front of him shook. ‘I beg you to believe me. I am not and I never could be a murderer.'