Combining Business and Pleasure 3

Since it was just 11pm, Melissa went straight up to the outside bar once she had checked Hannah’s cabin where she had not found any valuable evidence: the door had not been broken up (leading to the question where the intruder had gotten the key from), and for trussing Hannah up, parts of her own clothing had been used. Since she was just security, she had no further possibilities of saving evidence. If a capital crime would have happened, she would have asked the Captain to ask local authorities to take the issue in their hands, but this assault was just not bad enough to justify such a delay that would cost the company a load of money.

At the bar, she didn’t have to search for Jeb, as the man was sitting beside a woman and trying to flirt whilst being more than slightly drunk. Melissa could see that the girl was annoyed, but being annoying wasn’t illegal, and so far, the bodyguard didn’t cross the lines.

She went to the barkeeper who confirmed that Jeb had been at the bar since about 8pm, behaving just well enough that he continued to serve him.

»I mean, he was at the toilet from time to time, but he definitely hasn’t been away for long since!«

Melissa nodded, and though it confirmed what Hannah had told her, she decided to grill Jeb, too. At least, it would offer a break for the girl he was flirting with.

»Mr. Jebediah Browning?«

Jeb looked up, and his amazement from seeing the uniform quickly turned into a grin when he let his eyes wander over Melissa’s body.

»Just Jeb – Officer Melissa!«

He had spotted the name button on her chest, and Melissa cursed the policy that made her go under her first name, for it undermined her authority. Forcing herself to remain calm, she continued:

»Well – Jeb, do you have a few minutes, just to answer a few questions?«

The girl took the opportunity to disappear, mumbling some excuse, and Jeb pointed at a chair. Melissa sat down, and Jeb at least had the courtesy of covering his mouth when burping. Then, he asked with a grin:

»Will I need my lawyer, Officer Melissa?«

»That depends on the answers you will give me! Where have you been between 8pm and now?«

»Well, here!«

Then, he suddenly bent forward, so Melissa could smell the beer in his breath.

»Wait a minute, that’s not true!«

He fell silent for a few moments, enjoying her growing impatience. Then, he added, his voice barely a whisper:

»For the first hour, I was over there!«

He pointed at the bar counter and started to chuckle. Melissa decided to go full Inspector Colombo: she rose from her seat, thanked him and, spinning around, then stated:

»One more question, Jeb: where can I find your boss, Mr. Davenport?«

Obviously, the mentioning of his boss had a sobering effect on Jeb, for he gave up his drunken sod attitude.

»Why do you want to know, Officer?«

»So, no more ›Officer Melissa‹!«, she thought, and she told him just that she had a few questions on him, too. Reluctantly, Jeb told her that Davenport had given him the evening off, since he intended to go to the ship’s casino.

Said casino was located closer to the bow, allowing Melissa to assort her thoughts on the way. This Jeb was maybe a creep, but he obviously had an alibi. And if Davenport was at the casino, there would also be people who could tell how long he had been there. After all, he wasn’t one to easily blend in with the crowd.

Indeed, he was at the casino’s private room, one on the few places where indoor smoking was allowed. Here, he was sitting at a table covered with green felt and playing Poker with three men and a woman, all looking as if the money in the pot meant little to nothing to them.

Though he had a glass of Whiskey beside him, Davenport seemed sober, and he deliberately told her that he had been here since he had finished his dinner at half past eight. So, he also had an alibi, and in addition, Hannah had been right: he was smelling from tobacco. Melissa hid her anger, and Davenport looked up at her:

»Now, since I did not hesitate in answering your questions, can you do me one favour and turn the cards for me, Officer?«

Melissa did so, and Davenport looked at the three cards. She wasn’t too familiar with the rules of this variant of Poker, and perhaps, he was just bluffing, or trying to show her his contempt as he suddenly grinned and stated:

»Lady, Gentlemen, seems the law is on my side!«

He then placed a raise, and Melissa withdrew. She was angry, not only because she had not been able to help Hannah, but also because her only real case had turned into a dead end. What bothered her most, however, was that obviously, both Davenport and his gorilla were jerks, but she had nothing in her hands that she could hold against them.

***

Babette hadn’t lied to John when she had said that she still had some paperwork to do; it wasn’t the protocol she had long finished and sent to Conradi, but it was this protocol plus a number of others she was now combing for any evidence of irregular activities. For years, the tax authorities were suspecting that Conradi’s taxes didn’t match his real income, and since the sums involved were the opposite of peanuts, they had finally decided to spy on him.

Her superior had been quite blatant when he had explained to Babette why they had chosen her for the job:

»He has a reputation for being interested in his secretaries, and if he thinks you are just young, pretty and naïve, he will maybe let off his guard and allow you some insight in his transactions!«

He had also been deliberately vague in telling her to »do whatever it takes« to get some information, and so far, Babette had played her cards. She knew that Conradi hadn’t chosen her to accompany her on the cruise because of her typing skills, and the challenge had been to say »maybe« in a way that kept him on the hook without being too obvious.

»Now, it seems that being just a secretary will only get me so far!«

Babette sighed when she thought of the consequences. At least, Conradi was just old, but not a creep or brute, and the bonus she would get for finding him guilty would be enormous. However, this mad her feel even more like a prostitute.

Her thoughts wandered to John. She was sure that he had also kept something to himself: either, he just wanted an affair with her, or he was in fact an investigative journalist who wanted to get information on Conradi by seducing her.

»Maybe, it’s both! Combining business and pleasure, so to say!«

She thought of him, his charming smile, his slightly clumsy politeness, his athletic body, and she thought that perhaps, this combination wasn’t the worst thing to do.

***

»The security girl? Really?«

Clad in just her panties, Yema was lying on Karim’s table, and he was massaging her back and shoulders, a real pleasure after some strenuous hours in the laundry that of course had a lot to do once the restaurants closed at 11pm. After work, she had sneaked up the side stairs to get to the masseur’s studio, and Karim, who had been sleeping already, had deliberately let her in, so he could tell her about his latest plans.

»She’s a beauty – and I heard that some of our customers like female soldiers or Policewomen! It must be like breaking horses to them!«

Though he was looking at Yema’s back, he could see her smile. Yema also liked being dominant, though right now, she was just enjoying his skill and tenderness combined with strength. Sometimes, he thought that she was more in their business for the fun of it than for the money.

»If you put it that way, getting her ready for sale could be an interesting challenge!«

Then, she let out a mixture of a surprised gasp and a sigh of relief when Karim pressed both his thumbs on a specific spot between her shoulder blades. She then moaned and relaxed as he continued with more tender caresses.

»Maybe, we are more or less doing the same job – forcing women to moan, whether they want to or not!«

***

Aboard the »Mauretania II«, the breakfast was served from 6am on, though usually, most passengers appeared much later. Among them was Johanna, who lived after an early schedule and hadn’t changed into holiday mode yet. To her surprise, she saw Hannah sit on one of the tables, with nothing but a cup of coffee, and looking as if she had had a rough night. Johanna swallowed her resentments and asked if she could sit at her table.

Hannah nodded, and Johanna could sense that something must have happened to her. Indeed, once the waitress had served coffee to Johanna, the young journalist told her what had happened to her the night before.

Johanna had to admit that she was not only feeling compassion, but she was also intrigued. After all, she was a writer of detective novels, and this was a real crime with a mysterious component.

»And you have no idea who did this to you?«

»The most obvious suspects both have alibis!«

After her unsuccessful research, Melissa had quickly told her about it and promised that she would keep her eyes open. Hannah scoffed and looked at Johanna.

»It could have been you, too! After all, you weren’t too delighted by me trying to interview me!«

Johanna laughed at the mock accusation. However, she also tried to figure out who could have been behind it.

»Except for Davenport and me, on whose toes did you step aside from that?«

»He, I am just doing my job!«, Hannah pouted. Then, she turned serious and told her that Davenport had been together with Martin Conradi, a name that Johanna, who had also been an unwilling member of Hamburg’s high society, knew as well.

»The businessman? Don’t they usually prefer, you know, being on the receiving end when it comes to things like spanking?«

Once it was out, Johanna covered her mouth with her hand, and she slightly blushed. Though in her novels, the protagonists were quite adventurous, she could be called shy, even prudish, and such thoughts were untypical for her. Hannah, however, wasn’t offended, and she looked at the technical side of the assault:

»I am sure it was meant as a warning – and if Conradi does business with Davenport, he has the same reasons to fear publicity!«

She also told Johanna about the Asian that had stood close to Conradi, and the author felt a tingle in the back of her head. She knew what it was: it signalled an upcoming idea, and for the past few days, she had been suffering from a writer’s block. Obviously, real crimes had a stimulating effect on her brain.

»One really should have an eye on these two men! I mean, you should keep some distance to them, and Melissa looks too suspicious in her uniform – but how about an innocent woman, seemingly reading a book, or working on her laptop?«

Hannah smiled.

»This could indeed work! I hope you are not expecting me to pay you!«

Then, with a slightly hysteric giggle, she added:

»If you get spanked, we know at least that our suspicions were true!«

Johanna shuddered. The thought of a stranger cutting off her panties and then slapping her bare buttocks was indeed frightening. However, she now had offered her help to Hannah, and she didn’t dare to withdraw.

***

Another early-riser was John, but for an entirely different reason: in the morning, the big pool was still empty, allowing him to do 1000 metres of swimming before breakfast. Except for two men cleaning the area, he indeed was alone, but after some ten rounds, he suddenly heard music – not some song from the radio, but a specific theme: it was the famous melody from »Jaws«.

Slowing down, he looked if there was a fin protruding from the water. Instead, he saw someone sit beside the pool – a young woman with a giant double bass. John swam towards her, and she again played the »Jaws« theme.

»Is this a subtle hint that I am swimming too slow?«, he asked. The girl, a pretty redhead, smiled.

»I am just practising – for the evening!«

Now, he remembered having seen her during the check-in, and he rummaged through his memories. Suzette seemed to read his thoughts and she helped him out:

»Suzette Bonhomme! I am playing in the great dining hall tonight!«

A grin built on John’s face.

»So, I am a lucky man then?«

When Suzette looked questioningly, he pushed himself away from the edge and added:

»As long as I am inside the water, you can’t hit me for making lame ›Crepe Suzette‹-puns!«

Suzette tried to roll her eyes but couldn’t help chuckling.

»One Euro for each time I heard that joke, and I could quit playing!«

Without a word, John left the pool and went for his bathrobe. From the pocket, he fished a Euro coin and dropped it into the case of the double bass. Suzette raised her bow like a stick.

»He, I am no ordinary street musician!«

Then, cocking her head, she added:

»For a private serenade, I charge 10 per minute!«

John ostentatiously rummaged through the pocket of his bathrobe he had left deliberately open, since he was wearing his bathing pants.

»Sorry, my cash money is in my other bathrobe! May I invite you for breakfast instead?«

»Breakfast’s included in the ticket! You are cheap, Mr.-«

John introduced himself and Suzette said:

»Tonight, I hope you will enjoy my play in the dining hall! And for my acoustic support of your morning exercises-«

She now showed a coquettish smile.

»Tomorrow, I will be here again, and I would prefer to have my breakfast served by the pool then! Coffee with milk and sugar, orange juice, croissants with butter and raspberry jam, some fruits!«

She made a gesture like a Queen sending off her servant, and when John left, she played a matching tune. He grinned. If things didn’t get well with Babette, he at least had another opportunity to hone his flirting skills.

***

During the breakfast, Hannah and Johanna had worked out a plan that would allow the author to spy on Conradi and Davenport without exposing herself, whilst Hannah would fake she had withdrawn from the topic. In the end, the journalist had felt much better, and when she had done a little walk on deck, she had even found herself able to do her job by talking to another person who could perhaps become a celebrity. Suzette Bonhomme had just been packing together her double bass and music stand as the area around the pool was getting more and more noisy, but she had been quite appealed by the idea of giving an interview after her concert in the evening, and they had agreed on meeting the next day.

Hannah had then withdrawn to her cabin where the combination of relief and a sleepless night had kicked in. With the intention to only lie down for a few minutes, she had dozed off, and so, she had not even heard the second knock at her door, and she was quite startled when she suddenly saw someone stand beside her bed.

Before she had more than gasped, though, she had realized that the intruder was a woman, an Asian in a grey frock. Obviously, she had slept so long that the cabin service was trying to do their work.

»Oopsie, sorry! Just start with the bed, please – I will quickly go to the bathroom and then, I will go on deck, so you can do your work!«

Yawning, and wiping her eyes, Hannah entered the bathroom, noticing the laundry trolley on the corridor before she closed the door behind herself.

Yema reacted quickly, pulling the trolley inside and closing the door. Her original plan had been to check the cabins of those girls Andreas, the petty Officer, had marked on his list – a list that he had updated and shortened since, for there were other categories than just looks and travelling in a single cabin.

They had decided to keep their fingers from the passengers in the first class, for they were perhaps too well known for not to be missed. Then, Andreas had checked out those who were travelling in a single room, but belonged to a group. The real single travellers that also were pretty enough to be interesting for them was pretty short.

So, Yema had decided to use the virtual invisibility of the service personnel to check the cabins of their potential victims – only to now find Hannah Hoth’s cabin inhabited. Of course, she could just make the bed, take care of the bathroom and return on another occasion – or, she could show some initiative.

Since the »Mauretania II« was on her maiden voyage, they had not been able to see if their rooms Sammy had prepared were really appropriate for their purposes, and one guest would be easier to handle if there were still some problems they hadn’t thought of.

Through the bathroom door, Yema heard a splashing sound, followed by the flushing of the toilet. She decided to go into action.

Having washed her hands, Hannah stepped out of the bathroom and frowned as she saw the trolley parked in the corridor, blocking the way out of her cabin. The servicewoman was standing beside her bed, not having started her work.

»Excuse me, do you mind me removing the tray, so I can leave?«

The Asian, obviously not understanding her, stood motionless, and so, Hannah just pointed at the trolley, then at the room, and she then began to shunt the trolley from the corridor. When she turned her head, she saw the Asian had drawn a gun.

»Geez, I just wanted to move it!«

For a moment, she really thought that the woman was trying to prevent her from touching the trolley. Then, her eyes widened and she wanted to say something when the Asian, showing only a bit of an accent, ordered:

»Get on your knees, hands behind your head!«

The gun was small, but it looked very real, and the look in the woman’s eyes told Hannah she meant business. So, she obeyed, desperately looking at the door, just two or three yards away. The Asian seemed to look for something.

»M-my wallet’s i-in my h-handbag!«, she stammered. She had some 150 Euro in cash,  and she hoped that the woman would just take the money, maybe also her phone, and leave. A part of her mind even was able to think of a story about her getting assaulted twice within 24 hours whilst she was staying aboard a luxury liner.

»I will see for it later – now, don’t move, and don’t make a sound!«

She withdrew into the corridor, only to reappear seconds later. In her left, she now held a blue canvas sack with the word »laundry« and the cabin number printed on it. The ship offered a laundry service for the passengers: all they had to do was to collect their clothes in these sacks and, if they wanted them to be cleaned, hang the sack to the door handle at the outside of the cabin door. The next day, the laundry would be returned, cleaned dried and ironed.

The sack was tossed to Hannah, and she had to empty it to the floor. There wasn’t much in it: her underwear from the day before, and the clothes she had worn during the assault. The saliva-soaked scarves that had been used to gag her, she had decided to throw away.

»Pick the panties!«

Puzzled, Hannah reached for the white cotton thong that showed Snoopy on its front panel and held it in her hand. The Asian sat down on the bed, still aiming at her.

»Now, put them into your mouth!«

»What?«

Hannah was perplexed at this order, but obviously, the other woman thought that her order didn’t need further explanation, just further encouragement. A faint, but nevertheless terrifying »Click!« told Hannah she had cocked her gun, and with trembling fingers, she brought the thong to her lips.

»All the way in!«

Slowly, Hannah pushed a bit of the waistband between her teeth. The garment was small, but even now, she could taste her sweat, since she had worn the thong from the last morning till the point where she had showered and changed for the evening, some eight hours on a hot summer’s day. In addition, the cotton had been in direct contact with her loins and cleft. She suddenly had to think of her mother who, when Hannah had been a teenager, had repeatedly told her about the hygienic disadvantages of thongs in comparison to panties.

She looked at the Asian who made a gesture with her left, as if to invite a reluctant guest to take a second piece of cake. Hannah pushed and prodded, unable to oppress a retch when the garment touched her tongue. When the panties were behind her teeth, the Asian looked at her mouth and didn’t seem satisfied.

»The socks, too!«

Hannah groaned. The white sockets weren’t big either, but they were sweaty, too, and they would add to the already inconvenient packing inside her mouth. However, the silent threat of the gun persuaded Hannah to obey. The other woman now produced a cell phone.

»Please, don’t spit these out – and don’t interrupt me now!«

She dialled a number and then, she spoke German, telling the other person:

»Hi, I am in room 332! – Hm, she was there! – Hm! – Hm, you better do! – Good, see you soon!«

During the cryptic call, Hannah suddenly felt a wave of relief, though she was still kneeling on the floor, chewing at her panties and socks, and had to stare into the muzzle of a gun.

»It’s Conradi’s work! They want to frighten me further! Soon, this Jeb will take a few pictures of me whilst I am gagged with my underwear, maybe spank me again, or rip my T-Shirt open – but it’s just a threat, nothing more!«

She would have asked the Asian whether Conradi had sent her, but she didn’t dare to spit out her gag. With one unable to talk, and the other unwilling, the minutes passed in silence, until the door was opened from outside. Hannah steeled herself to see Jeb when another man entered, smaller than the bodyguard and sporting dark brown hair and a three day beard. What he had in common with Jeb was his lewd grin as he looked at the kneeling girl. He wore a grey, slightly dirty overall, and behind him, he pulled a large aluminium box on wheels.

»Someone told me you have a leak in your room?«

He bent over Hannah whose eyes widened, and she let out a faint whimper. The man now reached for one of the many pockets of his overall, and he produced a measuring tape.

»Before I can take measures, I have to know the potential size of the problem!«

To Hannah’s horror, he slung the measuring tape around her breasts, murmuring »34 inches«. The girl groaned and squirmed when he then cupped her breasts and kneaded them.

»B cups, I think!«

»Sammy, we haven’t got all day! You can play with her later!«

Though the man let her breasts go on the Asian’s complaint, the implications of this »later« further frightened Hannah. Sammy grinned and stated:

»I think I found the problem – and I have the right tool with me!«

He opened the box that, to Hannah’s surprise, seemed almost empty. From a pocket in the lid, he took a transparent plastic bag with a zipper. In it, the girl could see a white cloth that was soaked in some liquid, and she suddenly knew what it was.

»Uuuhmmph! Nnnggg!«, she protested, vigorously shaking her head. The Asian showed a cold smile and raised her gun.

»Your choice, Hannah! If you don’t allow Sammy to chloroform you, he will knock you out – same result, but together with headaches and a bruise!«

Hannah stared at the approaching man like a rabbit stared at a venomous snake. He stepped behind her, and his hands clamped around her wrists. Then, the cloth was pressed over her mouth and nose, and she smelled the sweetish scent of the narcotic.

»Mhhmmph! Uuuhmmmm!«

»Just relax, and take deep breaths! It feels as if you are suffocating for the first few seconds, but once you are starting to feel dizzy, it’s just like falling asleep!«

As on keyword, Sammy shifted his hand a little, so his hand still pressed on her lips, but his index finger no longer blocked her nostrils. Reflexively, she panted, inhaling more of the fumes through the soaked cloth. It was nausea-causing, and she bucked in his grip – but then, as the narcotic filled her lungs, a numbness began to spread, and she began to feel heavy and tired. The Asian, just one yard away from her, began to blur, and she blinked, chortling. Then, her eyes twisted, and she collapsed in Sammy’s grip. The man waited for another minute before he withdrew the cloth from her face.

Using a roll of duct tape, he quickly tied her wrists and ankles. Then, having pushed the thong and socks deeper into her mouth, he sealed her lips with a few rounds of tape before he carefully loaded the unconscious girl into the box. Yema nodded and put the gun back into her pocket.

»All right, Sammy, put her in the storage room – but don’t get started on her until I will be there! Just make sure she stays put!«

»Combining business and pleasure my ass!«, the bosun complained, and Yema patted his arm, her smile showing her slight contempt:

»If she refuses to show obedience and needs some harsher treatment, I know that you are the perfect man to give it to her!«

Sammy seemed to take this as a compliment, and with a grin, he maneuvered the box onto the corridor to head for the maintenance elevator. Yema quickly made the bed and changed the towels before she hid Hannah’s handbag under a pile of fresh towels on her trolley.

Since the girl was travelling on her own, it would take some time until someone would miss her. The regular cabin service would assume that she had perhaps slept elsewhere, and even if she had a reservation for a table, these were regularly skipped by passengers without a particular reason. With a little bit of luck, it would take some days before someone would miss Hannah – and by then, they would have stopped at both Cherbourg and Porto, and maybe, the Captain would assume that she had had a tragic accident or jumped overboard on purpose. Sometimes, such things happened – and they were too convenient an explanation for Hannah’s disappearance as that someone would consider she was hidden in the bowels of the ship.

***

Since she had slept until 8 and gone to breakfast then, Babette had missed John, and she had no time to look after him afterwards, for on her phone was a message from Mr. Conradi:

»Dear Babette, my wife is having a massage at 9:30, and I have a few letters to dictate! Since it is nothing confidential, we can do so at the Tiki Lounge, so you will be able to dip into the pool between the letters! Yours, Martin Conradi!«

The subtext of Conradi’s message was clear: show up in your bathing suit, my wife won’t interrupt us. Still, he was playing slow, not having invited her to his room, but to a public space.

»Well, a girl’s gotta eat!«

In the nude, she stood in front of her small, but well filled cupboard and drawer and chose an appropriate outfit. She chose for a turquoise bikini – any colour would have done, but since Conradi was the age of Babette’s father, he sure had also watched »The Fall Guy« in his youth. And at least her father still enthused about the scene in the trailer where Heather Thomas alias Jody Banks stepped through a swing door in such a bikini.

Babette completed the outfit with a brightly coloured wrap skirt she knotted in a way that one leg would be bared once she sat down, a white straw hat and a pair of beige sandals with modestly high heels. Once she had refreshed her makeup, she left her cabin. Two or three men she passed on her way to the Tiki lounge let their eyes wander over her, telling Babette that she had chosen the right outfit to keep Conradi on the hook – and also John, if he happened to show up.

»Let’s see if even this cold fish Sato shows some reaction – if so, I maybe went a little over the top with my outfit!«

***

Karim looked at the woman that had just entered his studio. Of course, he was not only frequented by the young and pretty ones, but though this woman was past her 40th birthday, she was a beauty – and even a layman could have told that she was in dire need of some relaxation. In addition, he knew who she was, and that she earned more than the usual attention.

»Mrs. Conradi, how can I serve you?«

Leonora looked at the tall Berber in his white outfit, and her sigh seemed to express »where shall I start?«. Since it was the first day of the cruise, he could dedicate the next 90 minutes to her, and her husband could easily afford a double session.

»Mrs. Conradi, since you seem, if you forgive me my direct words, a little tense – may I offer you a special treatment? Something – exclusive?«

»Sounds promising«, Leonora replied with a tired smile.

***