Tidal Rage by David Evans (best big ereader .TXT) 📗

Quietly he closed the waste hold door and walked up the two flights of internal stairs before emerging from the door with the ‘No Entrance’ sign on the front. He walked from the restricted area, and it was only seconds until he was seen by staff and by a cruise guest. A man walking through the corridor in his swimming costume does not raise suspicion or alarm on a cruise ship, Sebastian knew; it was an everyday occurrence. Sebastian walked back to his cabin; no problem, just another guy who had been for a swim on the Promenade Deck.

After a quick shower to remove the salt from the seawater that he had rinsed himself down with. Once dry he put on fresh shorts and a Bermuda shirt and went back to the tender area in readiness for the tenders returning.

It had been three hours since he had left the tender station; it had felt a lot quicker to Sebastian. He was due back at the arrival deck in one hour, as the half-day excursions would be returning within the next hour. And he would be there to greet them. Sebastian went back early to the unmanned station.

Before Frau Shultz was allowed on the ship on embarkation, there had been several formalities she would have had to complete to ensure the company’s procedures had been followed.

In the embarkation hall, she would have an imprint of her credit card taken, and a check to see that she had sufficient balance on it would be made. Then she would have her photograph taken, and the image transferred to a database on-board the ship. She would then be issued a cabin key; the key would also act as her on-board embarkation and disembarkation pass. Every time she got on or off the ship, she would be identified by inserting the pass into a computer terminal.

Each time she bought a drink at the bar the key would be swiped, and her photograph would appear on the screen in the bar till; it was an on-board credit card.

Sebastian knew there was one flaw in the system; the embarkation and disembarkation system for excursions merely recorded access and egress from the ship; it did not record the time the individual left or came back on-board.

Sebastian retrieved Frau Shultz’s pass and inserted it into the terminal. For all intents and purposes, Frau Shultz had exited the ship and disembarked. Minutes later, the key was cut into ribbons and deposited on the tide of the Caribbean Sea.

That evening at 6 pm he heard the announcement over the on-board speakers.

“Mrs Shultz, report to the Purser’s Office, immediately.”

Sebastian knew this was standard procedure if someone was back late or had not returned past the last boarding time. He knew that soon they would be telling her husband she had not returned from shore and, as per company policy, they would not wait and put themselves behind schedule. Anyone late back would have to make their way to the next port of call and rejoin the ship there, obviously on their own dollar.

Sebastian was almost sure that no matter what the argument was that had caused Herr Shultz to go ashore alone, he would not stay on the ship while his wife was not on-board. He would think her late back and would want to be there for her. Once it was clear she was not on-board, Herr Shultz did decide to go ashore to look for her. He was put on the pilot boat and taken ashore.

Once the ship was on its way and the light began to fade, Sebastian went out again in his swimming shorts, with a towel draped over his shoulders. Once inside the garbage room, he opened the hull door and observed the waves swelling up to about two yards below the hull door.

Sebastian retrieved the large refuse bag containing the remains of Frau Shultz. He dragged her lifeless form out of the bag and to the door and waited. The ship rose and fell on the swell, and the water line changed with each cycle. Sebastian waited until the ship fell and quickly slipped the body out of the bag and through the door.

The draw of water from two massive bronze propellers is enormous, and no sooner had she entered the water than she was drawn to the water flow towards the propellers like a magnet. There was a slight shudder and a little kick, and Sebastian knew she had met this kiss of the giant bronze propellers. The body would now be in edible chunks for the reef sharks.

“Job done,” he whispered to himself.

If anyone had night vision glasses, and a bird’s eye, sea-level view, which was not possible in the light conditions, they may have spotted the flush of red water, the dismembered arm, part of a foot with two toes and half a heel, for that was about all that was left of Frau Shultz.

While Herr Shultz was pleading with the police to find his wife in the Dominican Republic, Sebastian was playing with vigour in the piano bar. He seemed to really enjoy himself. He was on top of the world.

Several weeks later, and three nights spent in a mosquito-infested hotel, Manfred Shultz returned home with the finger of suspicion hanging over him, as Frau Shultz’s body had never been found. Certainly the Dominican police thought he was the prime suspect, but they had no evidence to detain him.

His team leader back in Munich thought it highly unlikely Manfred had anything to do with his wife going missing. They had sent a detective from their team over to assist, and he could not find one sighting of them together on the island. The detective found it strange that no one at the port or on the island had seen or could remember Frau Shultz.

Manfred Shultz had been drinking