Private Dick

The doctor straightened up. "Excellent questions. No stippling is present. Given the distance available in the hallway or really anywhere on the ship, there would be some gsr, gunshot residue, present. But a metal rod thrust with sufficient force could penetrate this fairly easily. Especially if it were spring loaded in a device. Here, let's roll Mr, Everson over to examine the front. Here are gloves, if you would assist."

I wasn't relishing the idea, but I had done worse things. I put on the gloves and together the doctor and I rolled the roughly two hundred and fifty pound man over on the slab. I had the lower half, and when I looked at the face, I had a start. "This is not Charles Everson. Who is this man?"

Dr. Sandhu looked at me with a stern face. "What do you mean? This man is on our ship with the credentials of Mr. Charles Everson. He has a passport, all identity papers. He cleared customs. All indications were that he is who he portends, or rather, portended to be. How do you know that this is not Mr. Everson." His tone was that of someone incensed that they had been challenged wrongly.

"The body type matches, but I have several recent pictures in my file from the police department in his city that clearly show another man. Scars that are not present here, and probably the biggest detail, this man had brown eyes. Everson had blue. And he didn't wear contacts. There would be no way for you to know that, doctor, this was clearly an elaborate ruse. I need to find a secure connection to the police department back home. Is there one available?" I looked down at the man on the tray. "Who are you, and where is Charles Everson?" I said, not expecting a reply.

The doctor assured me that there was a shore line that could accommodate my needs. He called the bridge to inform the captain who would inform the executive officer who would inform the communications officer. Ah, the chain of command. Surprisingly there was a knock on the infirmary door less than five minutes later. Upon opening the door, I saw it was Bree. A most welcome sight, not just because she was naked, but more because she was living.

"I'm here to escort you to the radio room, our communications center." She motioned me out.

"Thank you, Dr. Sandhu, I hope we have a chance to talk more." I offered to my host and turned to Bree. "Lead on. I follow your lead." Indeed, I would follow her most anywhere.

We walked in silence, passing through several hallways and seeing only a few people. At the elevator, Bree explained. "We can talk once we reach the bridge area. Much more secure. Most people are eating or drinking or some other activity, but I have always found the ship itself seems to have ears. Hard to keep anything quiet on a vessel with nearly 2,000 souls aboard."

A few moments later we stepped off the elevator and through a secure door which Bree accessed by a fingerprint console. "Okay, you are aboard the bridge. And yes, they too are all naked." She smiled as though she had read my mind.

"You do anticipate my questions. Now to make a call. Feel free to join me, it may save time in repeating what I have found." I looked at the well lit area. There was a hallway where I could see a larger area ahead with exterior views. A beautiful blue sea stretched before the pointed prow of the ship. In the hallway we were in, a door was labeled "Communications" which I guessed, correctly, we were going. I pointed at it.

"That's it. Go on in. I will join you, I just need to alert the watch I am on the bridge." Bree left down the hall. I watched her go. Quite a lovely sight.

I opened the door and entered the communications room. A young woman with dark shoulder length hair rose sharply from a chair facing away from the door and wheeled to face me. Her ample breasts swayed a bit with the turning movement, a not unpleasant sight. "I'm Theresa, Officially Lieutenant Anderson, but to civilians not on the lines' payroll, Theresa, or Terry, will do. Please come in Mr. Johnson. I was informed of your arrival and your need for a secure line. I will need to be here to facilitate, but you can be assured I have the highest clearances and strict confidentiality." She relaxed only slightly before there was a knock and the door opened with Bree entering.

"Lieutenant, I see you have met Mr. Johnson." Bree moved in and sat in a second chair. The small office was becoming quite cozy with three naked occupants. "He said I should join in the call."

"Please, Theresa, Bree, call me Tom. I'm a guest here and appreciate your formality, but we can be comfortable." Easier said than done. I had thought I was getting used to the nudity, but in a small office, with two attractive women? Easier said than done.

We discussed options and I decided on the satellite phone that would be the most secure and also the most reliable form of communication. Theresa readied the uplink and entered the number I had for the chief's private phone. The call started, it rang twice before a voice answered. "Who is this?" Chief Spencer needed no introduction, I knew his growl immediately.

"Tom Johnson here, chief. You remember me? The cruise, a dead donor? Well, we have a bit of a twist."

"Really? Get to it Johnson. What have you found." The chief was a no-nonsense fellow.

I informed him that the dead passenger was not Everson and that I would be sending fingerprints as soon as possible, and would be bringing back dna samples to make it official. I hesitated to bring up the next part. "So, where does that leave me? I assume since the object of my investigation is not the person on board, my work is done? Once the cruise finishes, I can come and help track down Mr. Everson if you haven't located him already. But I am shipboard for the next several days." I awaited the reply.

"True, your work is done. I will be having the department locate Everson, just to make sure he is alright. But you are on the ship, it was paid for, so you are set. Check in with me when you return. And use plenty of sunscreen." The chief terminated the call and I was left with my two aides.

"Well, that was a little rude and abrupt, if you ask me." Lieutenant Anderson commented as she secured the satellite equipment.

"Oh, that was his good behavior. Really, he's a good fellow, just wound a little tight and no judge of coffee."

I turned to Bree. She looked pensive. "I suppose I need to get you to the chief of security here on board. I had let him know you were here and he wanted you to investigate yourself first before comparing notes. I think now..." There was a knock at the door.

"Enter" called Theresa, and the door opened. Both she and Bree came to attention, Bree nearly jumping from her chair. I rose slowly and turned to see what the commotion was all about.

"Captain Buechele, sir."

"At ease, Lieutenant. Steward." The large man filled the doorway. "Investigator Johnson, I presume? I wanted to stop by and introduce myself. Captain Hans Buechele. A pleasure to meet you. I hope to have you brief me...and our chief of security on what you have found. I believe my quarters would be more comfortable, in five minutes?"

All I could manage as a reply was "Certainly. And the pleasure is mine." The captain turned and departed by the hallway.

I saw the two women exchange glances and smiles. I had noticed what I think caused the two women such a reaction. "The captain certainly is, um, a big man, isn't he?" I offered.

Both smiled and Bree commented. "Yes he is tall. I will show you to his quarters." Then she chuckled demurely covering her mouth.

"It wasn't his height I meant, Bree." Now it was Theresa's turn to laugh. The captain was, in the vernacular, 'hung like a horse'. Probably ten inches and ample girth. "I wonder if it wasn't something other than his hand that knocked on the door...."

"Enough" said Bree, "We don't want to keep the captain waiting".

Off we went, I said goodbye to Theresa, hoping to see her again. The captain's quarters were not far and we arrived in less than the five minutes we were allotted.

The room we entered was larger than the communications office we had come from and much better appointed. Two nude men sat before us, the captain and who I presumed to be the chief of security. The captain waved us to a chair and introduced the other man. "Detective Johnson, this our chief of security, Mr. Arnold. Why don't you brief us on the case." That was not a question but a firm request.

"Simply put, I was retained to find out who had killed a passenger on your ship, Mr. Everson. It turned out that the deceased was not that person, so my part of the investigation is finished. However, you still have the same problem of a dead passenger, whoever he is. I have, along with your ship's doctor, examined the body and have a few observations. The man was killed by a spike thrust into the brain from the base of his skull. It resembles a bullet wound, but no projectile is left behind. A rather unusual method, but a silent one. And effective." I stopped and looked at both men. The captain turned to his chief and seemingly willed a response to my short report.

Mr. Arnold responded. "A pleasure to meet you Mr. Johnson. A concise report. Quite nice. You are certain this was not Mr. Everson? We have a careful screening, but not, obviously, infallible. And the cause of death. Curious. Before I proceed, may I make a proposal? Since you are already on board and familiar with this case, might we engage your services to continue? I would personally welcome the assistance. And I presume it will be very discreetly handled." He folded his hands and threw the ball back to me.

"I don't see why I shouldn't accept. I will need some assistance, would it be too forward to request that your steward, Bree, be assigned to me for that purpose? She has already proven to be invaluable in my short time here." I had decided to add a little something for myself in this cruise.

Arnold and the captain exchanged glances. The captain nodded. I hadn't looked at Bree, but I assumed she would be agreeable to the idea. "That seems fair. I will have the necessary paperwork drawn up, but for now, let this handshake serve as our agreement. He reached across and I took his hand.

"Agreed. Since we are here, would you care to hear a brief theory of how I presume to proceed?" I watched each of the three other faces. The captain was stoic, hard to tell what he was thinking. Bree leaned forward, interested. Mr. Arnold sat back as though he was waiting to be entertained by someone doing his job. I took the silence as permission to go on.

"As I see it, the man was killed either because of who the murderer thought he was or who he actually was. Not much to narrow down that motive. It might be easier when we determine who he actually is, although that may take some time. Using the tried and true method of 'means, motive and opportunity', our best method to concentrate on at the moment seems to be focus on the means. Since he was killed in a somewhat unique way, I plan to see if we can locate the weapon used. On a nude cruise, who could have such an item and conceal it without much notice? That is how I plan to proceed with Bree's assistance. Any feedback or suggestions?"

The captain replied. "I must get back to the bridge. Your plan has merit, proceed with all your plans and keep Mr. Arnold informed. Thank you for your assistance to my ship." With that he rose, followed by the three of us. We exited the cabin and went our separate ways. The captain to the bridge, Bree and I headed to the lounge and who knows where Mr. Arnold went. It was a stereotype, but I had the image of him sitting in a public lounge on the ship holding a newspaper, covertly watching the passengers like the 'house dick' in an old movie. He just needed a pencil thin mustache, a cheap suit and, of course, a newspaper.

Bree and I went to a quiet lounge, my first chance to really enjoy the cruise. A few other people were around, but no one noticed us and we merely glanced at them. A couple of drinks were ordered and we sat at a table away from the others. Bree started. "Thank you for requesting my services, I am honored, and glad that I have been of assistance. I assume from what you said, you have some ideas of how to narrow down our task? Right now, it seems like everyone is a suspect."

"You are welcome. Yes, I have a plan. But I can describe that later. In your office or my compartment. Right now, I want to know a bit more about Nude Day, or Naked Day or whatever it is. I find that I am enjoying it a bit more than I thought I would. I was worried about my, um, physique, or lack thereof... When you have a pleasing body like yours or the lieutenant, or even the captain, it must be easier." I sipped my drink.

Bree smiled. "A compliment! Thank you! And your physique is nothing to worry about or be concerned with." She also took a sip of her drink. "Ah, Nude Day. I have done this cruise four times now. I recall my first one, I was nervous as hell! I guess I expected an orgy to break out and there would be sex at every turn. Mind you I have seen some of that happen, I have a few stories, but for the most part, it tends to be about the freedom of being naked with others and also about positive body image. So lose that concern you have and enjoy the experience."

She leaned back and allowed me a good view of her. I took in her chest, appreciating the curve of her breast, the aureola, her pert nipple. Her stomach was not completely flat, there was a little "extra", but fit and led down to a neatly trimmed bush of hair. I had admired her from behind, but this was the first lingering examination of her with her permission and her noticing.

"Yes, exactly like that Mr. Johnson...I mean Tom. We are off duty at the moment, I believe." She tinkled the ice in her glass. "I assume you enjoy what you are seeing. I know it took me a while to learn how to appreciate another body. We put so much emphasis on nudity being associated with negative aspects. It's 'dirty', it is wrong. Why? It is only flesh? So that is what Nude Day means to me. It has taught me to enjoy something that I had previously not appreciated. I hope it does the same for you!"

"I hope so, too. However, I think you still see more than purely altruistic views of others. Take your reaction, and Theresa's to the captain. He does have quite the staff, and I don't mean his crew..." Maybe that was the part of me that enjoyed a little fun with others, but I couldn't help but notice a little tinge of a blush in Bree's cheeks.

"Oh, you caught that, did you?" she chuckled slightly. "Yes, captain Buchele is a bit of a legend among the crew. Theresa and I have commented on that before. Yes, we are human, we notice things like that and imagine...'what would that be like to...have...'. But you noticed it, too. Are you in the habit of checking out other men's penises?" Touche.

"Ha! You have me there. No, I wouldn't call it a 'habit', but if the situation presents itself, I do look. Just as I have checked you out. And being human, wondered the same thing about you... 'What would it be like...' " I let me voice trail off and took a long sip of my drink.

"Be like to...what, Tom? To have me?" Bree cocked her head slightly. "That is a refreshingly honest comment. I am frankly not used to that. But here is an offer. We work on this situation and if we succeed, we could explore that possibility." She raised her glass.

I clinked my mostly empty glass to hers. "Cheers. To that possibility. You certainly offer excellent incentives for successfully doing ones' job. Another drink or would you like to hear my ideas?"

"Definitely the ideas. The sooner we get to work, the sooner we may have a solution. My office would probably offer a little more space and access to the resources you...we...will need." Bree rose from the seat. "Let's go!" And off we went.

I did have a bit of an idea of how to narrow down who might have done the deed in question. I had seen a similar wound before. Bullet sized hole, no stippling, no projectile. It had come from a spring-loaded livestock weapon used in slaughterhouses. Grotesque, but effective. My theory was that if we found someone with a cane or walking stick, we might find one that had been modified to such a purpose. It probably would have passed through security without attracting much attention. I presented my theory to Bree and she was able to pull up a listing of passengers with mobility issues which required an assistance device. Of the 2,000 people on board, roughly 200 had that notation. Thirty five had a wheelchair designation, leaving us about 160 to examine. Still a good sized number, but much more manageable than our starting number. In the remaining day and a half of the cruise, we should be able to narrow that down even further.

My next task was to make sure the finger prints from our body got to the chief and the forensics unit back home. And to see if they had found the real Mr. Everson. I went to Dr. Sandhu and then to see Theresa. Lieutenant Anderson.

I was proud that I had remembered my way to the bridge. Along the way I passed two people with canes. I hoped they didn't notice my extended glance at their item. Yes, I decided, a standard cane could be fitted with a solid steel rod and spring mechanism without much difficulty. I had sounded quite sure when I talked to Bree, but still had doubts. I had fewer by the time I approached the entrance to the bridge.

"Damn." I had forgotten the secure door with the fingerprint ID system. Bree had stayed in her office to do some of her regular work and to come up with a system to check the passengers with canes. I decided to try the unit, but my prints were not in the system. I wondered if there was a house phone to ask for assistance. None in the immediate area. I even thought about trying the dead persons' prints since I had them in a folder from Dr. Sandhu. But it turned out that I didn't have to. I saw through the glass of the entry door that Lt. Anderson was coming down the hallway toward her office. I tapped and got her attention and she opened the doors for me to enter.

"Permission to enter the bridge, Lieutenant?" I waited at the threshold.

"Of course, please come in Mr. Johnson. Right this way. Coming to see me?" She made sure that the door latched behind me.

"I am. I need to get this file to the chief of police, you know, the talkative charmer we set up the satellite call with? And if possible, I would like to arrange another call to him." We entered her office.

"No problem at all. I should be able to upload a copy of this document and send it via internet just like if we were on land. And it is encrypted so no need to worry about security. As for the call, do you know when he will be in for your call?"

"No clue when he might want my call. Could we try him now and I can at least leave him a message." I shifted in my seat a little. I confess that as I watched Theresa scan my documents and assemble the satellite phone connections, "What would it be like to kiss those breasts and to..."

"All set. Once I have the number to send the file, I will put them through. You might ask for that when someone answers the satcall." He efficiency shattered my daydream. Probably just as well.

The chief wasn't in, but his phone was answered by the duty officer. I was able to get a contact address to send the file containing the fingerprints and also to arrange a time to consult with the chief. I was impressed with the efficiency and made a mental note to compliment the officer when I spoke to the chief. I also made a note to do the same about Theresa to the captain if the opportunity arose.

"Anything else I can do for you, Mr. Johnson? I'm technically off duty, but as an officer here, we are never truly off duty if we are on the bridge or if the vessel is at sea." She smiled sweetly as she rose slowly from her chair.