The Singing Sleuth

By D.B. Barton

A cold-blooded murder was just committed on a luxurious British cruise ship returning from the sun-drenched Caribbean islands of Martinique, Barbados, and St. Maarten. The ship's controller was bludgeoned with a ten-pound dumbbell in the fitness center. The victim was an especially nasty character who took great pleasure in advising headquarters which departments on the Pegasus fell short of their monetary goals. It's no wonder he was killed.

Alec DunBarton, a Scottish bank auditor, comes to the rescue of Flagship Cruise Line to examine the controller's books. Although Alec is haunted by his past, he soon finds himself totally at home on the Pegasus—drinking Glenlivet, smoking his pipe, and singing whenever the spirit moves him.

By means of song lyrics, Alec is able to decipher clues and describe his suspects. Was the killer: Rick Tanner, the slick cruise director; Jeffrey Sheffield, the adulterous plumber; Ronald Bauer, the mild-mannered security officer; Paige Anderson, the lonely cruise consultant; Michelle Van Dam, the plump masseuse; Gwen Llewellyn, the seductive fitness instructor; or Janet Kane, the wealthy passenger?

If you're ready for adventure, come aboard. They're all expecting you!

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.B. Barton
• Release date: Jun 23, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476007045

D.B. Barton

D.B. Barton is the award-winning author of The Singing Sleuth series. When she’s not dreaming of ingenious ways to eliminate unpleasant people, she visits exotic locales, bakes fattening goodies, and volunteers at the local hospital. D.B. Barton is currently working on her tenth book, The Singing Sleuth Digs Up the Past. She was born in New York City and resides in Jacksonville, Florida, with her husband, Timothy Pavlenko, and two cats, Esme and Yoko.

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The Singing Sleuth

D.B. Barton

The Singing Sleuth

by D.B. Barton

Cover by Marv Conn

Copyright 2012 (Revised)

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

The Singing Sleuth Print Series:

The Singing Sleuth (2005, 2012)

The Singing Sleuth Returns (2007, 2014)

The Singing Sleuth Goes Home (2009, 2016)

The Singing Sleuth Crosses the Pond (2011)

The Singing Sleuth Does Vegas (2013)

The Singing Sleuth Takes a Bow (2015)

The complete series can be ordered directly from:

www.singingsleuth.com.

Positive reviews of the books in The Singing Sleuth Series are greatly appreciated by the author.

To Ariane, my daughter,

whose death has taught me

to place my trust in God

Table of Contents

Pegasus Itinerary

PROLOGUE

Chapter 1: Just a Song Before I Go

Chapter 2: Here Comes the Sun

Chapter 3: One Way or Another

Chapter 4: Things Are Looking Up

Chapter 5: Touch Me in the Morning

Chapter 6: They Can’t Take That Away From Me

Chapter 7: Sweet Talkin’ Guy

Chapter 8: I’ll Make Love to You

Chapter 9: A View to a Kill

Chapter 10: New York Minute

Chapter 11: Another One Bites the Dust

Chapter 12: Live to Tell

Chapter 13: You’re the Top

Chapter 14: Handy Man

Chapter 15: Wedding Bell Blues

Chapter 16: She’s Not There

Chapter 17: White Rabbit

Chapter 18: This Is It

Chapter 19: Love is the Answer

EPILOGUE

Copyright Acknowledgements

Pegasus Itinerary

Southern Dreams’ Tour

Regular Cruise Schedule

Monday, 23rd of January: Fort Lauderdale (Florida), Depart 4:30 PM

Tuesday, 24th of January: At Sea

Wednesday, 25th of January: At Sea

Thursday, 26th of January: St. Maarten, Arrive 7:00 AM, Depart 3:00 PM

Friday, 27th of January: Barbados, Arrive 11:00 AM, 10:00 PM

Saturday, 28th of January: Martinique, Arrive 7:00 AM, Depart 2:00 PM

Sunday, 29th of January: At Sea

Monday, 30th of January: At Sea

Tuesday, 31st of January: Coral Cay (Bahamas), 8:00 AM, Departs 4:00 PM

Wednesday, 1st of February: Fort Lauderdale (Florida), Arrive 7:30 AM

*****

Reverse Cruise Schedule

Wednesday, 1st of February: Fort Lauderdale (Florida), Depart 4:30 PM

Thursday, 2nd of February: Coral Cay (Bahamas), 8:00 AM, Departs 4:00 PM

Friday, 3rd of February: At Sea

Saturday, 4th of February: At Sea

Sunday, 5th of February: Martinique, Arrive 7:00 AM, Depart 3:00 PM

Monday, 6th of February: Barbados, Arrive 11:00 AM, 10:00 PM

Tuesday, 7th of February: St. Maarten, Arrive 7:00 AM, Depart 2:00 PM

Wednesday, 8th of February: At Sea

Thursday, 9th of February: At Sea

Friday, 10th of February: Fort Lauderdale (Florida), Arrive 7:30 AM

PROLOGUE

Sunday Morning

22nd of January

5:10 AM EST

Mark’s killer entered the health spa of the Pegasus. The reception area was vacant and welcoming.

Overstuffed chairs and couches were positioned in casual seating arrangements. The carpeting was thick and luxurious, and the air was fragrant with the invigorating aromas of eucalyptus and peppermint. The environment served to heighten the executioner’s sense of purpose.

The assassin believed it was a public service to slay Mark Linley, the controller of the cruise ship. Linley monitored how much money passengers spent on extra shipboard fees and services.

When department managers fell short of meeting their goals, Mark Linley took pleasure in alerting his superiors in London. Over the years, he had come to make a great many enemies.

If Mark’s self-righteous attitude wasn’t reason enough to provoke animosity, there was also his unsettling appearance. Linley’s piercing eyes stared like those of a dead fish on a bed of ice, his sharp nose intruded into the affairs of others, and when he pursed his thin red lips, he resembled the Church Lady on the old Saturday Night Live series. It was really surprising that the controller had managed to live so long.

Walking past the receptionist’s desk, Mark’s killer was absorbed in thoughts of malice. The assailant’s wristwatch indicated it was 5:10 AM, leaving little time to dally.

From the outer room, the malefactor watched Linley. Mark appeared to be asleep on a six-foot, almond-shaped piece of health equipment.

To be specific, the machine was called an Alpha Capsule. Its function was to relax its occupants with soothing music, scented herbs, therapeutic heat, and revitalizing massage.

The top half of the apparatus was hinged to the bottom half at the foot of the device. Linley’s executioner was amused to see the controller’s head sticking out of the capsule. He looked like a turtle trapped on its back.

It was Mark’s custom to sneak into the gym early each morning to steal a few precious minutes on the machine. Being a remarkably tense person, Linley found it was the only place on the ship where he could unwind and collect his thoughts.

A half hour in the unit was equivalent to four hours of sleep. In the last two months, the controller had increased his usage. He had become addicted to the capsule.

Certain that Linley was dead to the world, the murderer walked into the spacious gym. Assorted pieces of exercise equipment stood along the circumference of the glass-enclosed room like soldiers ready to do battle.

In an area off to the side, a rack of neatly arranged dumbbells attracted the assassin’s attention. Heading toward the weights, the assailant thought, Soon, very soon, I’ll be rid of that mealy-mouthed nuisance.

Even if the controller hadn’t been asleep, he would not have heard his attacker approach. The Alpha Capsule was a loud machine. Its tiny massaging fingers made deep rumbling noises and the spray of bracing herbs made harsh swishing sounds.

In addition, Mark was listening to New Age music. High-pitched whale songs periodically screeched from the headphones.

Standing beside the rack of dumbbells, the murderer proceeded to test several weights, searching for one that had the proper mass and balance.

The killer suspected that blunt-force trauma to Linley’s head would cause profuse bleeding and spurting. The assassin had to be certain that a single blow would accomplish the task.

The executioner chose a ten-pound weight for its maneuverability. Though a heavier dumbbell would cause more damage, it couldn’t be wielded as swiftly or with as much a precision as a lighter one.

In contrast to dumbbells composed of synthetic polymers, the ship’s weights made ideal bludgeons. They consisted of metallic, disc-like plates that screwed to the ends of four-inch rods.

All telltale traces of sweat and skin could be easily removed from their shafts. The fitness center was well equipped to do away with the controller. Everything was within arm’s reach.

The killer approached Linley. This time, the assailant’s footfalls fell on the gym’s low-tufted, multicolor carpet. The murderer’s gait was slow, yet purposeful.

Seconds later, Mark’s slayer was positioned behind his head. For a moment, the killer considered whether the controller’s death was truly necessary. But there was no question; Linley could ruin everything with one well-placed remark.

Lifting the barbell with force and precision, the executioner slammed the weight down on Mark Linley’s face. One plate of the dumbbell struck him under the nose, and the other plate hit him squarely on the forehead.

Blood immediately began to squirt and gush from his nostrils. The controller never stirred.

The thud of steel impacting flesh especially delighted Mark’s killer. Now, nothing stood in the way of the perpetrator’s plans.

Holding the blood-and-skin-encrusted barbell, the assassin walked over to a pop-up container of moist towelettes. The sign above it read, For hygienic reasons, kindly wipe off equipment after use.

Mark’s murderer gave a sardonic laugh, wondering whether Flagship Cruise Line had ever envisioned that its cleaning supplies would be used in such a manner.

Taking a handful of sheets from the dispenser, the assassin removed debris from the plates, and fingerprints from the smooth metallic bar. The dumbbells were placed back on the rack, and the bloodstained wipes were stuffed into the killer’s pockets to be disposed of later.

It was that simple.

Gazing back at the corpse, the murderer noticed rivulets of blood flowing to the floor. The dense carpeting absorbed the liquid as well as it concealed footprints. Feeling secure and confident, Mark’s executioner strode to the exit.

Passing the receptionist’s desk on the way out, the assailant checked the time once again and experienced a sense of elation. It was 5:30.

Soon the fitness center would be full of activity with passengers eager to begin their morning routines. On leaving the scene of the crime, the murderer thought, The fools on this ship will never know that I killed Mark Linley.

CHAPTER ONE

Just a Song Before I Go

Words & Music by Graham Nash"

Monday Morning—23rd of January

Alec DunBarton was running away from home.

Home had been Scotland for the first twenty-six years of his life, and England for the last sixteen. Right now, he didn’t think he’d miss either.

As Alec fastened his seatbelt, he began to feel optimistic. It was a sensation he hadn’t experienced in a long time. In just nine hours, he’d be in Miami.

Last evening was a blur. Douglas had telephoned Alec ship-to-shore from the Pegasus. Once he explained the reason for his call, it took Alec less than five minutes to accept his old friend’s proposal. It was odd that a stranger’s death could suddenly fill Alec’s life with purpose.

Amidst the background noises of flight departure were snippets of conversation, overhead storage bins being slammed, and flight attendants asking passengers to place their seats in upright positions. Alec enjoyed the sounds of travel.

Looking out the window, he wondered whether he’d be able to adjust to living on a cruise ship again. He had been a young man when he had worked on the Delphinus as an assistant controller.

In those days, Alec’s field of study had been hotel management. After serving in the Mediterranean for eighteen months, Alec returned to college to obtain a second degree in banking and finance.

With a throb of the engines, the aircraft began to taxi along the tarmac. The plane moved past low warehouses, baggage carts, and oil trucks.

Gazing at the surroundings, Alec cleared his throat and sang, Just a song before I go, to whom it may concern. Traveling twice the speed of sound, it’s easy to get burned ….

Alec stopped singing when a young woman to his left inquired, Are you all right?

In response, Alec smiled sheepishly. I’m sorry, Lass. I forgot where I was for a moment. I’ve never understood those words, but they seem to fit the occasion. My name is Alec DunBarton. What’s yours?

Cautiously, she uttered, Amy. Amy Cohen.

Alec was about to reply when the captain announced that they’d been given clearance to take off. The plane turned onto the runway, lining up behind several other aircraft. The fight attendants took their positions in the aisles, pointed to the exits, and demonstrated the use of seatbelts, oxygen, and flotation devices.

In the meantime, Amy pulled out a huge, college textbook from her knapsack and proceeded to highlight almost every line on the page. Alec would have laughed out loud, but he’d already scared the poor kid enough for one day.

It was a real blessing that no one was sitting between them. Just the prior evening, Alec had placed the airline reservation. On such short notice, he was grateful to get any plane headed to Florida.

Suddenly, the high-pitched engines roared, signaling that takeoff was imminent. Alec loved the way that aircraft surged forward and pulled away from the ground. It always energized him.

The only part of flying Alec disliked was the change in air pressure. He didn’t care for swallowing on demand, especially without a drink.

Glancing at his watch, Alec noted that his flight was departing on time. It was 9:50 AM.

Although it was rather early for a whisky, he knew he wouldn’t say no. Whenever Alec needed to think, he would reach for his old briar pipe, stuff it thoughtfully, and draw on it until wisps of smoke circled his head. He was certain it helped him concentrate. Since smoking was prohibited on board, a drink was second best.

Alec was glad to see the flight attendant bringing the beverage cart down the aisle. Most people were ordering coffee and soft drinks. When the attendant approached him, Alec asked with a sparkle in his eyes, Do you have single-malt whisky?

Looking through the slide-out drawer of miniature bottles, the woman shook her head. They may have one in first class. Let me check for you.

The flight attendant returned shortly later with several small bottles. While she placed them on her trolley, she said, We have both Glenlivet and Glenfiddich. Which one would you like?

In Alec’s opinion Glenfiddich was less smoky and fruitier than Glenlivet. Preferring the former, he answered, Why, Glenlivet, of course.

Twisting open the bottle, she asked, Ice?

He grinned good-naturedly. Neat, please.

Alec had been raised in Inverness. Even though he later moved to London, Alec considered himself a Scotsman through and through. No Highlander would dare drink single-malt whisky diluted with ice or water.

As the flight attendant passed the glass to Alec, she appeared to notice him for the first time. It was a look he had become increasingly familiar with over the last few years. After taking a second glance, the flight attendant continued down the passageway to the next row of seats.

Alec had the dubious distinction of resembling Pierce Brosnan, the actor who had played James Bond from 1995 to 2002. Alec had at least ten pounds on that Bond, as well as bushy eyebrows, expressive brown eyes, and a broad face that was decidedly engaging. Like Brosnan’s 007, he had a full head of dark brown hair beginning to gray at the temples.

Growing up, Alec had watched all the Bond films. At times, he wished he could be as debonair as his favorite 007—Sean Connery. Alec, however, had other qualities.

Anxious to go over recent events on the Pegasus, Alec placed his drink on the tray table and searched inside his jacket for copies of Douglas’s e-mails. As he pulled them from his breast pocket, Alec swallowed a mouthful of Glenlivet and savored its robust flavor.

The first message read:

Subj: Murder on the Pegasus

Date: 22nd of January, 4:20:06 PM EST

From: [e-mail]

To: [e-mail]

Alec, my boy,

It was wonderful to hear your voice on the phone. I wish it wasn’t under such bizarre circumstances. As I outlined before, we’ve had a rather brutal murder here. Our controller was killed this morning in the gym.

After that, all hell broke loose. Captain Jarvis and the chief of security called headquarters first, then the British Embassy, State Department, FBI, Coast Guard, and Fort Lauderdale Sheriff’s Department. If it weren’t so bloody awful, I would have laughed. No one could tell them who had legal jurisdiction. We were a day’s journey from Port Everglades, in international waters.

The sheriff’s office finally decided to take the case. Our security officer was told to photograph the body from every conceivable angle. The ME asked me to wrap Mark Linley (our victim) in plastic and put him in the morgue cooler. His poor face was barely recognizable and covered with blood.

Although the body was discovered shortly after 6:00, some of the passengers got wind of it. We closed the gym right away and told them that the air conditioning was on the fritz. I’m sure the cruise line will be getting an earful.

As you know, our board of directors wants this matter cleared up ASAP. The captain thinks one of crew may have bludgeoned him. Linley was high-strung. If his books didn’t balance to the penny, he made everyone’s life a misery. There were times I could have killed him!

Collin Woodward, (the board member, you met at my farewell gathering), was extremely relieved to hear that you could come straight away and double-check Linley’s reports.

I can’t wait to see you. It’s been donkey’s years since we’ve shared a bottle.

E-mail me with your flight info. I was terribly sorry to hear about Shanna and Emma. When you’re ready, we can talk.

Regards,

Douglas

After rereading the e-mail, Alec recalled the mixed feelings he’d had getting ready for his trip to the U.S. Upon giving Douglas his air carrier, flight number, and expected time of arrival, Alec’s second and more difficult task was to ring his parents and say good-bye. They had been through so much lately.

It was well past midnight when Alec