Vice Cop Ch. 13

"And your next novel? What's it going to be about again?"

"My war with the Mafia. They have ruined a part of my life and ruin countless others. They must be stopped."

"I agree."

"Anyhow, friend, I am very sorry but I must get going. I have to meet a friend at the Casino. You can stay and finish your drink but don't forget to lock the door on your way out."

"And the key?"

"Put it under the little rug right in front of the door."

"Gee thanks."

Mason got up and left.

Burt finished his soda and sighed. His private meeting with his idol did not go the way he wanted it to. He wondered if Mason preferred the company of female fans. It was always like that. He lingered in the room for a moment, looking at the quaintness of the place. It might have cost a pretty penny since there was a kitchen, a bathtub inthe bathroom and a window. Some of the cabins did not come with windows, not even peep holes. He had his back towards the front door, which Mason had left open. When he turned around, he gasped. A man in a dark coat and sunglasses stood directly front of him. A chill struck his heart and he sat frozen.

"Die, pig, don't mess with the Dinos," he said, pulling out a gun.

He shot him straight in the chest. Burt fell down, bleeding profusely and was motionless on the floor. Immediately, the man rushed toward a phone. He dialed a number.

"Hello, boss?" he said, "it's me Tony. I did it."

"You shot him?" came Gianni's voice on the other end.

"I shot the bastard and he's dead."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm looking at him right now, aren't I? He looks very dead to me. Got blood all over the rug."

What next?"

"Stay right where you are. I'm coming over. Tell me the number of the room."...............

Gianni punched Tony right in the face.

"You no-good, useless fool, you shot the wrong guy!" he shouted at him, "this is not Mason Holmes. This is not the guy."

"But this is the right place. This is his room. I saw him coming in here the other day."

"This may be the right room but this is not Mason Holmes. You idiot. Look at the book on the couch."

Tony picked up a copy of the novel CRIME AFTER DARK. On the book jacket was a black and white photograph of Mason Holmes. He was in a long-sleeved shirt and slacks, his familiar Germanic facial features in their place- the mustache under a strong nose and above a square jaw, his blonde hair and his gray eyes which were intense and focused.

"That's Mason Holmes," Gianni said.

"I'm...so...sorry, boss."

"Shut up. Now we have to dump this body somewhere. We gotta clean up the blood and the mess you made. We gotta get rid of the guy. Somewhere where no one can find him. At least help me to think of a good spot."

Tony cursed. He paced the floor in thought.

"How about the hull of the ship, somewhere dark and hidden."

"Alright. Come on, let's be careful no one sees us. Help me put the body in a bag."................

The casino was Mafia-owned but the clever Gianni Dino did not let a single soul know it, save for the Captain who did not care since he was fond of the money that was rolling in and the excellent business that was being made. The casino was if anything the most appealing aspect of the cruise. It was like a piece of Las Vegas at sea. The glitz and glamour of high-rollers, beautiful couples, the decadent atmosphere, all part of the allure of the place. It was naturally something that peaked the curiosity of Hudson Banach and Roxella Peters.

Roxella had been to Las Vegas and enjoyed gambling. It was something that stayed with her, owing to her relationship with Floyd "Flamingo" Burch, who was a gambler. The thought of making money, the thought of having those green bills in her hands, always worked its spell on her. She loved what money could bring - jewelry, fashionable clothes, travel. She enjoyed spending money but she had always been able to enjoy Floyd's money. Now that she was with Hudson Banach, a mere vice cop, she knew things would not be the same. While she was away rehearsing, Hudson walked into the casino to try his luck with gambling.

Hudson was in a gray suit and his hair slicked back. He was smoking a cigarette and taking inthe luxurious surroundings like fine wine. He ignored the looks he got from some of the womenwho were obviously looking at him with lust. The chandeliers were like bubbles over the heads of the gamblers on the card tables, like bursts of gold balls that hung on the air by magic. The music was hot jazz and alcohol flowed. Laughter, carefree laughter, got to him. He hadnot heard people having fun in a long time.

It was just what he needed, to forget his woesand the hard realities of being a cop. He had not played cards in a while but he had always been good at it, thanks to his Uncle Vitto's mentorship. He could play poker well. He waslooking about for a card table when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hudson Banach?"

He turned to see that it was Mason Holmes.

"Oh hey, Mason, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to meet a friend. We were going to play cards but he's a no-show. You want to play cards with me instead?"

"Ah, a challenge," Hudson said with a chuckle,"you know I think I'd like that. Did Lexa ever tell you when I played poker against her in Atlantic City?"

Hudson's mind briefly returned to that time. He remembered Lexa in her undercover get-up as a hooker. He had beat her at cards and Sonya Romandini had been with him.

"No, I don't think she's ever brought it up," Mason replied, "was that the time she went undercover as a prostitute to catch the notorious Jack-the-Ripper serial killer who was mutilating prostitutes?"

"Yeah. She has never mentioned it to you? Well, that's because I beat her at poker."

Hudson smiled and Mason laughed a bit. It was nice to know that they could still be friends. Long forgotten was their old rivalry. At one time, Hudson still clung to the imposed enmity that was supposed to lay between cops and detectives. Although Mason Holmes made more money and had a rather more interesting social circle, Hudson did not care. Doing work with Vice was thrilling enough for him. And there was Lexa, between them, the beautiful and strong girl who lived life in her terms and had given so much in the name of protecting people in the city.

"I'll be glad to play poker with you," Hudson said, "maybe I can beat you too."

"We'll see about that."

"So where's Roxella?"

"Practicing for her show tonight. I imagine Lexie is too?"

"Yes."

As they spoke, Fabrizio, Gianni's cousin and the second hit man working for him, was eavesdropping from a close range. He was in a suit and he tried to blend in with the rest of the gamblers. He was able to hear just what he needed to hear. That Lexa, Mason Holme's girlfriend, was in the Star Search competition. He would have to find his way to the Showroom and get her alone. He immediately asked someone to hand him a phone. The staff at the casino recognized him as Gianni's cousin and instantly obeyed his instruction. Someone carried a phone to him.

"Hello, boss? Fabrizio", he said.

"Did you find Lexa?" Gianni said on the other line.

"No but guess what? I overheard someone say she's a contestant on that Star Search show that they are putting on in the Main Showroom."

Mason Holmes and Hudson Banach prepared to sit down to play cards at a table. But even before the game began, there was an unexplained commotion in the casino. People were nervous and muttering. There was clearly something wrong. A group of men made their way into the casino and went straight for the table where Hudson and Mason sat. A tall man in a dark suit and three uniformed security police officers were with him. They approached Mason.

"You are Detective Mason Holmes?" he said to him.

"Yes."

"I'm Patrick Fenton, the cruise ship hotel detective. I heard that you were an NYPD cop and you were here to promote your novel so I decided to ask for your help."

"What's happened?"

"Murder, Mr. Holmes, there's been a murder on this cruise. The body of a young man was found in a shaft in the hull of the ship. A cleaner found it and reported it. It's said that he was last seen in your room."

"My God...."

Mason remembered Burt. He had left him there and expected he would be long gone by the time he returned to the room for the night. But how is it he was murdered? And why? Did it have something to do with ....

Mason thought hard. It would require some thought. Obviously someone aboard this ship was a cold-blooded killer and did not like detectives or his book. It was about ...the Mafia.

"Come with us, Mr. Holmes," Patrick Fenton said.

* * * *

The hull of the ship was off-limits to everyone save for the crew and staff.

Here, it was pitch-black and it was a labyrinth of mechanisms and walls, as well as shafts and dead-ends. It was below water and it smelled as well as felt eerie. From outside, the ocean could be heard, as if it were a heartbeat or breathing. It was here in a shaft where the dead body of Burt was found. During the fall, the bag had opened and the body tossed directly to the bottom of the shaft. He had been dead only for a few hours, but was already cold and stiff owing to the dampness of the shaft.

Mason was guided down a staircase along with the hotel detective, Fenton, and some police officers. They crowded around the body and took a look at it. Mason Holmes had not expected to be as if on "homicide" work on a cruise ship.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your cruise, Mr. Holmes," said Fenton, "but this was a very urgent matter. There is a killer aboard this cruise. Plus there is the matter of his connection to you. Who is he?"

"A California man, he attended my book signing, name of Burt," said Mason, "he was very enthusiastic. He wanted to talk so I took him to my cabin. We had a conversation, we had sodas and then I remembered I had to meet with someone at the casino. He was not supposed to be there for long. I assumed he'd be back to his own cabin or elsewhere on the ship afterward. I guess I should not have left him alone."

"It's not everyday that a murder happens in the cabin of a well-known crime and detective fiction novelist. As hotel detective, I'm hardly ever needed. I've only dealt with cases of theft. Some would believe you had something to do with it, Mr. Holmes."

"You can't believe that!"

"I don't, but what happened in your cabin room must also be about you."

Mason Holmes stared at the body of the unfortunate fan. He looked frightened and his face had frozen in a state of shock as he had been shot. This caused Mason to feel grief and pity. He felt somewhat responsible for the bizarre death. His mind was reeling.

"I think there is little mystery to this, actually," Mason continued.

"What do you mean?"

The police men began to wrap the body in a bag again and were ordered to bring it up to a private room up on deck.

"I mean it has to do with me but he was apparently a victim of a hit intended for me."

"A hit? You mean as in the Mafia? The Mafia did this? There are mobsters on this ship?"

"There is no other explanation. I have made my dislike of the Mafia very clear in my writing. I've taken up a Mafia hunt with former cop Emeric O'Neil who arrested Don Luigo Dino, the main boss of the Dino Mafia. I think they must have learned of my whereabouts and came to kill me but found Burt instead."

"This all sounds very plausible," said Fenton, "but what are we to do now? How are we going to find these mobsters?"

"I have my ways. I'm going to talk to the Captain."

Back at the casino, Hudson was disturbed by the fact that someone had been murdered on the cruise ship. It sent him into cop mode, which was also unexpected since he was on vacation and enjoying himself immensely with Roxella. It was also rather unfair, he thought. Roxella would be exposed to his line of work and the dangers and risks it involveand she might not take it well. He figured he wouldn't tell her and he was glad this sort ofthing was more of a Homicide dick's department. He wanted so much to help but he wasonly a Vice cop and his area of expertise was drugs and prostitution.

If that were somehow happening on the ship, then he'd have work on his hands. As he stood there, wondering what to do next, he heard Fabrizio talking on a phone. Something about this Italian man, dressed in old-fashioned Mafiosi-tailored clothes, toldHudson that this was a member of the Mob. It was gut instinct. He could also tell beingItalian and knowing another Italian that seemed to have gone "bad". He overheard theconversation but there was so much noise in the casino - roulette wheels turning, slotmachines working, men and women talking - that it was hard to hear but he heard bits and pieces of it.

"wrong guy.....bad luck......detective aboard the ship......Lexa O'Neil is in her dressing room in the Main Showroom....I know where that it is...going there now....."

Hudson knew that this was for real. It was no dream. Somehow, someone wanted to kill Lexa and it was a Mafia hit. It did not make any sense to him at the moment but he knew he didn't have a moment to lose. Lexa's life was at stake..............

SEVENTEEN

The singing competition was in progress.

On the elaborate, radiantly-lit stage was Roxella Peters and she had the audience in her thrall. Conspicuously absent was Hudson Banach, whom she did not see in his usual seat in the front row where she had seen him for the earlier shows. She wondered what owed to his absence but dismissed her feelings for the moment. All that mattered was that she was on stage, singing on Star Search, ready for her big moment in the sun. This might be her greatest triumph. She hated that Hudson was not present but she made a mental note: she'd have to deal with him after the show.

She wore a pink sequin gown that was tight-fitting and showed off her curvaceous body. She wore a blonde wig but only for the number she was singing. Although the dress was long and reached to her toes almost, the side of the dress was cut to reveal one long leg. She also wore heels. She had her red hair down, cascading beautifully down her back and she had a diamond pendant over her breasts which were revealed in the low-cut basque. She had the men's attention and the women's envy. She carried herself with great pride and with all the manners of a diva. She held the microphone to her lips and began to sing a classic ABBA anthem, "Thank You For The Music".

She knew how to walk a certain way that oozed discreet sexuality, as opposed to the more cleverly sexual way she danced the Bolero the previous night. She shot a smile here and there and tossed her head while her pear-shaped earrings danced and glistened in the lights. She seemed to belong on the stage, in the spotlight and she sang with all the skillful ease of a lounge singer. It was as if she had done it all her life.

"I'm nothing special in fact I'm a bit of a bore," Roxella said in a talking but sing-song way, "if I tell a joke, you've probably heard it before. But I have a talent, a wonderful thing, 'cause everyone listens when I start to sing...I'm so grateful and proud...all I want is to sing it out loud......"

The audience was very familiar with the song and responded with applause, even during moments when she was still singing and had not begun another verse.

"So I say thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing, thanks for all the joy they're bringing...who can live with out it I ask in all honesty, where would I be? Without a song and a dance what are we? So I say thank you for the music, for giving it to me."

She exuded confidence and really drank in the audience's smiles.

"Mother says I was a dancer before I could walk....she says I began to sing long before I could talk....and I've often wondered just how did it all start, I found out that nothing can capture the heart like a melody can...well whoever it was, I'm a fan"........

A chorus of background singers joined her but they were not contestants. They had rehearsed with Lexa and sang a beautiful harmonic chorus. They were all beautiful girls who looked like starlets, donning sequin gowns and posing.

"So I say thank you for the music, thanks for all the joy they're bringing, who can live without it I ask in all honesty...without a song and dance what are we?....."

She prepared for the finale by standing still in front of everyone center stage under the glow of a blue light.

"I've been so lucky, I am the girl with golden hair, I want to sing it out to everybody, what a life, what a joy, what a chance....."

On the inside, Roxella felt the same sense of joy and pride as she did back at the ballroom at the Plaza. These people were probably elitist and bigoted, but she didn't care. She was finally succeeding at something other than stripping. She felt that there was really only very little she had changed outwardly. After all, her beauty was still being used to her advantage and for financial gain. It was to her an entirely different form of prostituting herself. When the song ended, she took a graceful bow and the applause felt like thunder.....

* * * *

Mason Holmes did not want Fenton to accompany him to see the Captain. Fenton was himself busy with the examination of the body and dealing with the direct Homicide itself. But Mason was determined to investigate the seedier side of the cruise. It was Mafia-related. He couldfeel it in his gut. It made perfect sense to him and the timing was also evidence itself. Here he was on a cruise to the Caribbean, promoting his book and making his "Mafia Hunt" well known to everyone. The Mafia was cunning and quick and must have gotten aboard the ship to commit murder. But something else was amiss. He did not know the Captain's name since everyone called him "Captain" and he thought that was very unusual. Anyone who did not want to be known by their real name had something tohide.

He was taken to the Captain's quarters and the Captain himself greeted him.

"Please take a seat, Mr. Holmes," he said to him.

He was standing behind a mahogany desk and filed away some papers. He was smoking a Cuban cigar. He sat down and looked at Mason and smiled. Mason took a seat in front ofthe big desk.

"I'm delighted you're here. It's always a pleasure to have intelligent writers aboard the ship. And you're also a cop, so that makes it very interesting."

"Flattered, I'm sure," said Mason, "but I'm not here to talk about me. I've already talked a great deal about myself on the cruise."

"Must be tiring, I'll bet." The Captain laughed and smoked.

"I'm here for an interrogation."

"Of me?"

"Yes. You."

"But what's this all about? Surely there's a mistake. I run a fine cruise ship. There has never been a problem."

"There is one now. You have allowed murderers aboard your ship."

"There's been a murder?"

"I was under the idea you were the first to be notified of it."

"I was not notified. When did this happen?"

"Early this evening. It occurred in my room and it was a Mafia hit targeted at me. The poor victim was a California man who had come to my book signing."

"I am sorry about all that. I am as shocked as you are."

"Are you? Isn't it more shocking that Mafia is on your ship, Captain?"

"I have no control over who comes aboard the cruise. But perhaps I ought to begin a new rule. Maybe we ought to run a background check on all passengers and -"

"Cut the crap. I know you're in it. You're in business with the Mafia, aren't you? And why the silly cover "Captain"? What is you real name? I'm sure your Mamma didn't name you Captain when she birthed you."

"Now, listen here," the Captain said, his Southern drawl now very distinct, "I've been called ambitious, money-loving and all kinds of things. If I didn't know better, this is not about me but about my politics."