mere thought of dishonest people.
"That's what we're going to find out," the captain said. "Or presumably, anyway."
Tobin said, "I'm waiting for the good part, Captain."
"The good part?'"
"Yes, when you tell me why you invited me to your cabin."
Captain Hackett leaned forward beneath the Chesterfield light and folded his hands. Tobin recalled the man's panic earlier in the evening-the first indication that he was perhaps not as composed as he hoped to appear. "I need a spy, Mr. Tobin."
"A spy."
"We've got three and a half days before we reach port. That means for three days I need to keep several hundred passengers calm. I need to find out what's going on."
"I don't understand what I can do."
"You're in a unique position. You're one of them but you're not one of them."
"One of whom?"
"The 'Celebrity Circle' crowd. You're part of the show but you're not intimate with any of them. I've noticed that you don't take your meals with them and that you don't go to their parties and that you don't hang out with them much."
Tobin shrugged. "I'm a guest 'celebrity.' They're a very tight-knit little group."
Without reservation, the captain said, "One of them is a killer."
"That's a pretty heavy accusation."
"I have no doubt it's true. Especially since I found out that the Graves woman was a reporter." He paused again and glanced at the doctor. "Naturally, we've got security forces of our own aboard the vessel, Mr. Tobin, but as I said, you're in a unique position to find some things out."
"Right now I'm very interested in Sanderson."
"So am I. I've already put in a call to our home office. We should know a great deal more about him within eight hours or so."
"The biggest problem you're going to have, Robert," the doctor said, "is keeping everybody calm." He made a face at Tobin and Tobin realized just how drunk the man was. "Including me." The doctor laughed, but he was only half-joking. "I sure as hell don't like walking around a cruise ship where a killer's loose. Do you, Mr. Tobin?"
"So how about it?" the captain said.
"I'll help you any way I can," Tobin said. "I mean, if I find anything out, I'll let you know."
"I'd appreciate it if you'd go out of your way to find things out."
"All right."
"And report them back to me."
"Of course."
"Because one more murder and…" The captain shook his head. "The cruise industry can be very profitable, Mr. Tobin. It can also become very unprofitable once you start getting a certain reputation."
The drunken doctor said, "I think you can understand our position."
What he actually said was, "I shink y'can un-nershand our poshishion."
Tobin was just glad the good doctor wasn't performing surgery this evening.
Or that Tobin wasn't going to be his patient, anyway.
***
Tobin went through the special hell of insomnia. Why is it, he wondered, when you can't sleep you don't have sexual fantasies about gorgeous women but instead concentrate on all the terrible things you've done with your life? Your failures. Your excesses. Your petty vanities.
Sick of flowered shirts, he put on a plain white button-down job, a pair of Lee jeans, and his blue canvas slip-on deck shoes, and went out to the railing to watch the rolling water and the way the moonlight burnished its black and eternal beauty.
Now the human sounds were gone and there was just the steady thrum of the powerful engines and the caw of occasional birds lost in the midnight clouds.
"Seems that we have the same problem."
He was embarrassed by the way he started at the unexpected sound of another voice.
She lay a soft hand on his elbow and said, "Gosh, I didn't mean to frighten you."
He relaxed, smiled. "Just lost in my
"That's what we're going to find out," the captain said. "Or presumably, anyway."
Tobin said, "I'm waiting for the good part, Captain."
"The good part?'"
"Yes, when you tell me why you invited me to your cabin."
Captain Hackett leaned forward beneath the Chesterfield light and folded his hands. Tobin recalled the man's panic earlier in the evening-the first indication that he was perhaps not as composed as he hoped to appear. "I need a spy, Mr. Tobin."
"A spy."
"We've got three and a half days before we reach port. That means for three days I need to keep several hundred passengers calm. I need to find out what's going on."
"I don't understand what I can do."
"You're in a unique position. You're one of them but you're not one of them."
"One of whom?"
"The 'Celebrity Circle' crowd. You're part of the show but you're not intimate with any of them. I've noticed that you don't take your meals with them and that you don't go to their parties and that you don't hang out with them much."
Tobin shrugged. "I'm a guest 'celebrity.' They're a very tight-knit little group."
Without reservation, the captain said, "One of them is a killer."
"That's a pretty heavy accusation."
"I have no doubt it's true. Especially since I found out that the Graves woman was a reporter." He paused again and glanced at the doctor. "Naturally, we've got security forces of our own aboard the vessel, Mr. Tobin, but as I said, you're in a unique position to find some things out."
"Right now I'm very interested in Sanderson."
"So am I. I've already put in a call to our home office. We should know a great deal more about him within eight hours or so."
"The biggest problem you're going to have, Robert," the doctor said, "is keeping everybody calm." He made a face at Tobin and Tobin realized just how drunk the man was. "Including me." The doctor laughed, but he was only half-joking. "I sure as hell don't like walking around a cruise ship where a killer's loose. Do you, Mr. Tobin?"
"So how about it?" the captain said.
"I'll help you any way I can," Tobin said. "I mean, if I find anything out, I'll let you know."
"I'd appreciate it if you'd go out of your way to find things out."
"All right."
"And report them back to me."
"Of course."
"Because one more murder and…" The captain shook his head. "The cruise industry can be very profitable, Mr. Tobin. It can also become very unprofitable once you start getting a certain reputation."
The drunken doctor said, "I think you can understand our position."
What he actually said was, "I shink y'can un-nershand our poshishion."
Tobin was just glad the good doctor wasn't performing surgery this evening.
Or that Tobin wasn't going to be his patient, anyway.
***
Tobin went through the special hell of insomnia. Why is it, he wondered, when you can't sleep you don't have sexual fantasies about gorgeous women but instead concentrate on all the terrible things you've done with your life? Your failures. Your excesses. Your petty vanities.
Sick of flowered shirts, he put on a plain white button-down job, a pair of Lee jeans, and his blue canvas slip-on deck shoes, and went out to the railing to watch the rolling water and the way the moonlight burnished its black and eternal beauty.
Now the human sounds were gone and there was just the steady thrum of the powerful engines and the caw of occasional birds lost in the midnight clouds.
"Seems that we have the same problem."
He was embarrassed by the way he started at the unexpected sound of another voice.
She lay a soft hand on his elbow and said, "Gosh, I didn't mean to frighten you."
He relaxed, smiled. "Just lost in my
Similar Books
