to the Grand Lobby, where Kiki rang for an elevator. I took a box from a shelf in the store, pretending to look at it while checking Uri to see what his next move was. He did what I did, watched Kiki get into the elevator and disappear behind the closing doors. My eyes went to the floor numbers displayed above the elevator. It went directly to Deck Seven, the highest deck served by that bank of elevators.
“That shaving kit is usually meant for men,” a sales-woman said to me. “I saw you studying the label. Are you looking for a man’s gift?”
“Not today,” I said, returning the box to the shelf and hurrying from the shop.
When the next elevator door opened, I dashed in front of a group of people who had been waiting patiently and, ignoring scowls aimed at me, huddled in the corner of the cab as the others squeezed in, last of all Uri. Everyone exited at Deck Seven.
There was no sign of Kiki. Uri entered the area called Kings Court, a twenty-four-hour food court that served a wide variety of ethnic dishes—pizza, Chinese, salads, burgers, and other simpler fare than the formal dining rooms. I followed him. As I did, I saw Marcia Kensington sitting alone at a table far removed from where I was. I then spotted Kiki standing in front of a set of doors leading to the Outdoor Promenade. Uri saw her, too, and stopped. So did I.
Despite the captain’s PA announcement earlier in the day that outdoor areas were closed until further notice, Kiki skirted a temporary sign that read DECK CLOSED DUE TO WEATHER, pushed through the heavy door, and stepped into the night.
Uri seemed confused about what to do next. I waited until he finally ducked into a bay of tables that were set up along a line of windows. I pulled a foldout map of the QM2 from my purse and held it in front of my face as I positioned myself at another window, hoping not to be seen by him. But he was so intent on Kiki, I needn’t have bothered.
The scene on the deck was straight out of a gothic movie. A dense fog had settled in, shrouding everything in ghostly gray and rendering the exterior lights almost useless. Kiki leaned into the fierce wind and made her way to a nearby alcove that shielded her somewhat from the gale. Engulfed in fog, she was almost invisible to me from my vantage point, but not completely. What surprised me was that there was another figure already in that alcove, a form so vague that it was impossible to determine who it was, even whether it was male or female. Kiki extended her arm, and the other person did the same. They’d exchanged something, but I couldn’t tell who’d offered it and who was on the receiving end.
Kiki left the protection of the alcove and was buffeted by the wind as she made her way back to the door. I slipped behind a pillar and held my breath. The wind slammed the door closed, and she walked quickly past me, her black shirt and hair gleaming with water. I waited. Uri was next to pass. I turned back to the window in the hope of seeing who it was that Kiki had met with, but there was no sign of him, or her.
My final glimpse of the pair was at the staircase leading to the Grand Lobby. I saw the back of Uri’s head as he descended the stairs, and assumed Kiki had preceded him. I considered following after them but decided against it. If Kiki had left the dinner table in order to rendezvous with this other person, she’d accomplished her mission and was probably on her way back to her stateroom. As for Uri, simply knowing that he was on the ship was discovery enough for the night. I glanced to where I’d seen Marcia Kensington, hoping I hadn’t attracted her attention. She was gone.
I returned to the Chart Room to find that Harry had left. Our waiter from earlier that evening handed me a folded sheet of paper. “The gentleman asked me to give this to you should you return.”
“The music is grand, Jessica, but I felt the pull of the craps table and decided it was useless to resist. I’ll probably cap
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