Dead Man Docking - Mary Daheim [60]
“Gack,” said Renie.
“The carving sets were right in plain sight,” Judith declared. “I remember watching one of the servers slice the roast beef. I assume there was more than one set. Has the sharpener that killed Magglio Cruz been found?”
Rick shook his head. “Too easy to toss overboard. An inventory of the galley has been taken, but frankly, it’s not exact. Carving sets, even standard ones such as they use on the cruise line, come in all kinds of assortments—carver, slicer, fork, sharpener, and variations thereof.”
“But,” Judith persisted, “the medical examiner is sure that was the weapon?”
“It has to be,” Rick replied. “I figure Mags’s murder wasn’t premeditated. The killer used whatever was at hand—in this case, a knife sharpener. It would be easy to hide under clothing, and not missed right away as a knife would be.”
Rhoda was applauding. “Fantastic, darling. You’ve done it again!”
Rick, however, didn’t seem that pleased. “We know how, but we don’t know why—and more importantly, we don’t know who.”
The appetizers arrived. Judith had never eaten sea urchin, and wasn’t sure she wanted to now. But the custard presentation was invitingly nestled in an eggshell. To her delight, the taste was delicious.
“Is there anything new on Mrs. Giddon’s jewel robbery?” Judith asked after savoring the first few bites.
“Not yet,” Rick replied. “Erma would have insisted on arresting Beulah, but the old girl relies on her so much that she’d have to post immediate bail. Frankly, I have some other ideas about that.”
“Such as?” Judith asked.
Rick chuckled. “Let’s say we could round up the usual suspects.” He stopped as Renie rose from the table. “Don’t you like your crab and cardoons?”
“Yes,” Renie replied, “but my appetite is off. I have to make a phone call. I’ll finish when I come back.”
Rhoda’s eyes followed Renie out of the dining room. “She seems a bit upset. Is it because of the murders?”
“Ah…yes and no.” Judith didn’t feel up to explaining the Joneses’ domestic situation. “There’s a small crisis on the home front. I believe she went to call her husband.”
Rick gazed at Judith over the rim of his martini glass. “The shrink?”
“Why, yes,” she replied, surprised. “How did you know?”
“Biff told me,” Rick said. “Apparently, Dr. Jones worked with him on a poisoning case years ago.”
Judith had forgotten about Renie’s tall tale. “Yes,” she said, and quickly changed the subject. “Is there any word of when we sail?”
Rick shook his head. “The skipper’s fit to be keel-hauled. All of the senior crew members are lodged at the Fitzroy. Naturally, they’re agog. Or aghast. Some of them are getting a persecution complex. Maybe your cousin’s other half could help them out. If he happened to be here.”
Judith’s eyes strayed around the restaurant as it began to fill with affluent customers of every nationality, some wearing their finest native garb. San Francisco had always been the gateway to the Orient, but in later years, the city on the hill had welcomed visitors from all over the world. Judith tried not to gawk even as she posed a question. “Are you saying that the crew believes they’re being targeted by a killer?”
Rhoda nodded. “First Mags, then Dixie. Who’s next? At least that’s how Émile and Paul and the others feel, from the boardroom to the engine room.”
“That might indicate a grudge against the company,” Judith reasoned.
“Possibly,” Rick allowed. “More remote—but still worthy of consideration—is an effort to put Cruz out of business.”
“But who benefits?” Judith queried.
“Only rival cruise lines,” Rick said. “But no reputable outfit would dream of such a thing. They’d offer a buyout first.”
“Which,” Rhoda noted, “no one has done.”
“Not to mention,” Judith said, “there must be ways of causing a business to fail that don’t involve cold-blooded murder.” She glanced from one St. George to the other. “You do think Dixie was murdered, don’t you?”
Rick looked resigned. “Probably.”
Judith took the