Ship of Chance

Flush with dollars, I booked passages for five people on the Queen of Hearts, a ship that flew the flag of an oil-rich country. 
It was a luxury cruiser that advertised as: “The largest gambling ship in the world. Hop aboard for adventure and romance to intriguing Caribbean and Mediterranean ports.” 
As I sat in the Queen of Hearts dining room with my brother, Steve, and my six-year old daughter, Jody, I wondered what was keeping our wives. About 3 ‘clock my wife, Dianne, and my brand new sister-in-law, Inez, had left us at the ship’s swimming pool. They had appointments for massages in the beauty salon on Deck B, and they had promised to meet us for dinner at 6. 
I checked my wristwatch. It was 7:30. Our wives were far too late, and I wondered why. 
A couple joined our table. Even before he had fully settled into his chair, the guy said, “Last trip out, this here ship was cruising the Baltic Sea. A gal went missing.” 
“She fell overboard?” Steve asked. 
“She was dumped over-board,” the guy said. 
Apparently he wasn’t going to bother introducing himself although this was the first dinner of the voyage. We had put to sea this morning from a New York City pier. 
“The broad washed ashore in Denmark,” the nameless guy said, “with a knife stuck in her back.” 
I had lots of questions which I left unsaid although I was troubled by such gruesome news marring our honeymoons. Dianne and I called this voyage our belated honeymoon, occurring after eleven years of marriage. For Steve and Inez, the marriage was recent and the honeymoon timely. 
How did Mr. Nameless come by his information? Why did he know about the murdered passenger and I didn’t? Maybe he was a rumor monger. I decided to ignore his amazing tale, at least until I could verify it. 
Steve shifted about restlessly in his chair, lonely for his bride, I guessed. I had paid the ship’s fares for Steve and Inez, as a wedding present for my brother and his bride. What the heck, I could afford it. They had married at the end of June, just five days ago. 
Tall, creamy tan of complexion and curvy Inez hailed from Mexico. Earlier today Steve had complained that too many guys on ship ogled Inez. Later, when our party of five passed through a bar on our way to lunch, guys did more than just stare. Many of the men at the bar whistled and catcalled. What set them off was obviously Inez. She wore a bright red dress, with open squares and triangles that revealed portions of her breasts and slim waist. Her swaying hips and behind had a lot more wiggle and waggle in them than most women displayed. 
“I bumped my left knee bad playing soccer when I was a kid,” Inez had explained to my wife, Dianne, who in turn told me. “So my left leg is a little shorter than my right leg. It makes me jiggle around a lot when I walk. It’s so embarrassing.” 
I noticed that even her breasts jiggled. 
One guy turned on his bar stool and reached for this Mexican firecracker’s behind with a cupped hand. His hand clutched her backside, but slid off, unable to hold on.. 
“Wow!” the guy said. “What a great ass! Welcome to America, honey! 
Steve socked the guy off his bar stool. He sat on the guy and pummeled him. Blood flowed from the man’s nose. Steve rested for a second or two, gasping, catching his breath. Then grabbing the man’s head in his hands, he pounded it against the floor. 
“Enough!” I said. “You’re going to kill a drunk!” 
I pulled a flushed and furious Steve off the man. Inez cuddled Steve’s face in one hand. “Don’t,” she said. “That pig is not worth it. Our true love is all that matters.” 
You could see Steve’s body relax. The color in his face faded. 
I lifted the drunk off the floor and onto his bar stool. 
“Some people don’t appreciate a compliment,” the drunk muttered. 
Steve and I walked out of the bar with our wives and Jody while onlookers guffawed. 
Maybe Dianne had returned to our cabin to shower and apply make-up. Or maybe Dianne and Inez had lost track of time, gabbing nonstop, seeking to become well acquainted with one another. 
“About six months ago,” the nameless guy said, “a man disappeared from this ship.” 
“No kidding?” I said. “Murdered, too?” 
“Never been found,” the guy said. 
“See?” I said. “Fell overboard. Run of the mill accident.” I could tell that my sarcasm wasn’t lost on him. 
“How come you know about the lady with a knife in her back?” I asked. “I don’t recall hearing about it.” 
“I was on that trip,” he said. 
“If bad things happen on this ship, why are you onboard?” I asked. 
“I have my reasons,” he said. “And I watch my back. “ 
I reminded myself not to talk to this guy, or even look at him. Something seemed not right about him. He was about my age, and yet his gray-haired date appeared old enough to be his mother, maybe even his grandmother. He kissed her repeatedly while his hand stroked her back, and every time he kissed her she giggled. Glancing at my wristwatch, I saw it was nearly eight. Our wives were now two hours late. 
I excused myself and walked to our waiter who stood on one side of the swinging doors of the galley. 
“Were you on the last cruise? I asked. “On the voyage in which a woman was stabbed to death?” 
He hurried away without a word, feeling a sudden urge to stand elsewhere in the dining room. I tried the same question on the hostess and a bus boy and got similar reactions. Deciding to try once more, I approached a waiter with gold rings in his ears and nose. I knew that the ship hired crew from around the world. I gave the foreign-looking waiter a peek of a twenty dollar bill in my hand. 
“I no can talk about lady” he said. I no want to get fired.” He grabbed my twenty and vamoosed. 
Talk about the murdered woman seemed prohibited on pain of being canned. I returned to my seat between Steve and Jody and regarded Mr. Nameless with a changed attitude. His incredible story just might be true. 
A swarthy man in a ship officer’s uniform with white short pants and short-sleeved shirt, lots of gold braid on his cap, and epaulets on his shoulders arrived at our table. “I am Captain Gautier,” he said. “You must come with us.” 
Steve jumped to his feet, toppling his chair, stooping to pick it up. I froze for a while in disbelief. When I arose, my chair scraped the deck, and I almost lost my balance. I grabbed Jody’s hand to take her with us. 
“Are we going to see Mommy?” Jody asked. 
“I hope so,” I said.