A Masque of Chameleons Read online

  It was his turn to laugh. “I told them I’d studied medicine in England. Actually, I really did, but when it came to strapping down people who screamed while I cut them, I couldn’t stomach it. I always seem to have been attracted to occupations that were hardly gentlemanly. Anyway, I merely suggested to Hugh that we didn’t want to start a scandal by calling in the ship’s surgeon unless we really had to.”

  “I wish I knew what I ought to do,” she said almost petulantly. “What if he tries it on someone else? Rosemary or your wife for instance?”

  “I hardly think you need worry about Rosemary. She's far too timid and proper to drink alone with a strange man.”

  “And I'm not very proper at all, am I?”

  “I didn't say that. But you must admit that your actions last night were a little, well, unorthodox. Will was ready to punch him in the nose, and he said the only reason he didn't was because he would in honesty have had to punch you, too.”

  “Serves him right. He can go off bedding down with anyone and everyone, but if I even flirt with somebody - ”

  “He’s been bedding down someone recently, has he? I wouldn’t have thought Italian opera singers and fat Cuban matrons were exactly his meat. Anyone I know?” She could not stem the hot tide of redness that flooded her stricken face. “Jason, I didn’t mean anyone in particular, really I didn't.”

  Jason looked at her calmly. “It was my wife, wasn’t it?” he said evenly.

  CHAPTER III

  “By the mark twain and a half, by the mark three!”

  The chant of the sailor with the lead line up in the bow was emotionless, but Roberta and many of the other passengers were fastened on his every call. As she looked down over the rail, she could see through the clear turquoise water the white sandy bottom starred with vibrantly colored sea fans, conches, helmet shells, and sponges. Then, so close that it seemed to all but brush the ship’s keel, there appeared a knob of black rock to which clung fat red starfish so thickly that they overlapped. An all but invisible lump on the rock became a lobster, its green shell covered with an amazing pattern of yellow dots and bars. The long slender darkness of a barracuda lingered lazily near an outcropping of coral, undisturbed by the vessel passing above.

  “By the mark three!”

  “It doesn’t look any eighteen feet down there, does it?” To Roberta it seemed as if she could reach down and pick up in her hand any one of the creatures they saw on the bottom. The water was so clear it was all but transparent, and since the ship was only barely moving, feeling its way over the shallows of the Great Bahama Bank, the water was hardly disturbed.

  Farther down the rail she could see Zaragoza and Carmelita engaged in an animated conversation, and judging from appearances it seemed that Carmelita was rather impressed with the Mexican. Since the night of her own debacle, he had transferred his attentions to Jason’s wife, who obviously loved to flirt. No one knew how Jason was taking it, for he gave nothing away, in fact pretended to ignore the whole business. However, Hugh was worried, knowing as he did how suddenly affairs like this could blow up and become not only disastrous but lethal.

  “It’s not that I give a fig for her,” he explained to Will in Roberta’s hearing, “but I can’t afford to lose him. The entire tour is pegged on you and him, and without him we’ll have to return to New York and begin all over.”

  “He seems to be taking it calmly enough,” Will observed carelessly. “I hardly think he’s going to challenge Zaragoza to a duel at this late date.”

  “Yes, but so far nothing has really happened, either,” Hugh pointed out gloomily. “They haven’t disappeared together for any length of time, and up until now they’ve just been playing. They won’t go on like that forever, though, mark my words, and then Whitney will have to take some sort of stand.”

  “You may be right at that,” Will said thoughtfully. You ought to know, Roberta thought bitterly. Although Will had seemed to show no particular interest in Carmelita since shortly after the voyage began, to Roberta this only meant he had in truth tumbled her and was no longer pursuing her. Oh, Will, would you lose interest in me too if you took me to bed? Surely not, surely not...

  “By the mark three and a half!”

  The Priscilla glided ghostlike through the day and on into the starry night, her white sails wraithlike in the pale light from the millions of heavenly bodies strewn across the black sky. Orion’s Belt, the Pleiades, the Big Dipper, all wheeled majestically across the darkness in elaborate patterns of blazing white light.

  Like a veil, the Milky Way flung itself across the starry heavens, echoed below by the glow of phosphorescence along the ship's bow as clusters of tiny plankton were disturbed by the vessel's passage. The faint breeze carried a scent of flowers and greenery from an unseen island lying out there somewhere in the darkness.

  The passengers, who had all collected on the deck after dinner to watch the heavenly spectacle, at last began to drift off reluctantly in twos and threes toward their stuffy cabins. When they had all emerged after the seasickness of the first few days, they proved to be a mixed bag of Spaniards, Mexicans, and Cubans, with a few American and Canadian adventurers thrown in and of course the Italian opera company.

  *

  After slowly making their way along the passageway, Roberta and Rosemary unlocked their cabin door and were hit with the overpowering scent of perfume — Roberta's expensive perfume. They peered into the darkened room, perplexed. The candle which had been left burning had gone out, and Roberta had to feel her way across the room to the table near the bunks. She couldn't understand why she kept running into obstacles and for a moment wondered if by some chance she and Rosemary had wandered into the wrong cabin. When the candle finally was lit she knew they were in the right cabin, though she wished fervently that she could have been somewhere else. The cabin was in shambles. Their belongings were strewn about in wild abandon, their dresses were ripped and had obviously been trampled, and Roberta’s perfume bottle lay shattered on the floor.

  “Those damned little fiends!” Rosemary exclaimed, certain this had been the work of the Cuban children on board. “If I catch one of them tomorrow, I'll drown him!”

  Before Roberta could reply they heard loud, angry cries echoing up and down the passageway, indicating that they alone had not been singled out by the villains.

  Unlike Rosemary, Roberta immediately considered the ransacked cabins the work of thieves. Yet nothing seemed to be missing. Roberta doubted too, that the gang of children, whose parents of course assured everyone repeatedly that their little darlings had been fast asleep, would have had the perseverance to have rifled twenty cabins so thoroughly, let alone do it so silently and with such malevolence. Those cabins up toward the bow of the ship were untouched. There was also the problem of how the intruders had gained entrance, until it became evident that one of the stewards’ master set of keys was missing, to be found later hanging quite obviously from one of the dining room doors.

  “I can’t think what pleasure anyone would have taken in making such a mess — what do you suppose was the object?” At breakfast Daphne was putting once more into words what all of them had been asking themselves and each other ever since the night before.

  A small chill rippled goose bumps on Roberta’s skin despite the sunny morning. It wasn’t so much the invasion of personal possessions that had shocked her, though even that was a kind of rape, but rather the needless destruction, pointing to someone who had taken pleasure in hurting. An adult capable of such wickedness had to be twisted somehow no matter what the ostensible reason behind the act.

  “It just occurred to me,” Roger Ainsley said slowly, lighting one of his briar pipes, “that if you rule out simple vandalism, the fact that nothing has been taken leaves only one possibility.”

  “Oh?” Will said rudely. “And what might that be, pray tell?”

  Roger ignored him. “Suppose someone was looking for something he didn’t find?”

  Roberta regarded Roge
r with interest. Until now he had simply been another of the bit players, seemingly nothing out of the ordinary. Now he had succeeded in giving a rationale to what had appeared to be a wanton act of vandalism. Her interest was heightened even further when she happened to notice Jason give an all but imperceptible negative shake of his head. If this slight movement was indeed meant as a deterrent to Ainsley, it hardly served the purpose, for he plunged on with evident enthusiasm.

  “And suppose further that to misdirect suspicion he rifled a number of cabins, including the one he intended to rob, so that no one would know what he was really after?”

  “You fool!” Jason murmured.

  Beyond him she saw Zaragoza at another table, his attention riveted on theirs, though in this he was no different from the rest of the passengers, even those who spoke no English. It was as if some secret code had been whispered into all of their ears, telling them that the solution to their mystery was at hand. With little left to talk about except the ocean scenery, they had made the most of the plundered cabins. With a delicious thrill of fear as word of Ainsley’s theory sped from table to table, they came to the possibility — nay, probability — that something more ominous than a child’s prank or a practical joke must lie behind the seemingly witless despoilation of belongings.

  “It’s not anything obvious like jewelry,” Roger was saying, “which was in no case stolen. Nor was it money. There are a number of interesting possibilities left. For instance, what if our wrecker was being blackmailed and was looking for the letters that were being held over his head? What if there was a map to a fabulous treasure? What if there was a plan to overthrow a - ”

  Jason’s fist smashed down on the table and effectively cut off the end of the sentence in a rattle of plates and silverware. “I’ll not listen further to this drivel,” he said shortly, “and if any of you have any sense, you won't, either.” He got up and walked out of the dining room, leaving his breakfast half eaten, the eggs congealing on his plate.

  Ainsley shrugged, seemingly unmoved. “Well, you can think up as many theories as I can. I only wonder if the hidden thing was found, because if it wasn't, there will be further mysterious happenings, and someone could get hurt.”

  This time the chill was felt by all of them. There had been something so self-confident about Ainsley's opinion that the idea of someone demented enough to cause actual harm to one of them no longer seemed as farfetched as it would have the day before.

  *

  “What did you think of Ainsley's proposition?” Will asked as they stood on deck looking out at the Great Bank shallows receding behind the ship.

  “What was there to think? He's very likely right, but I don’t see what we can do about it.”

  “Well, I for one don't intend to go wandering about by myself at night, I’ll tell you that,” Will laughed. “And you shouldn't either.”

  “Did you notice how strangely Jason acted?”

  Will nodded, serious again. “Stay as far away from him as you can, lass. Don't you think it a bit odd that he arrived out of nowhere and right away we’re going to Mexico? Where did Hugh lay hands on all that money, tell me that. That wife of Whitney’s is just as bad,” he grumbled.

  Roberta turned on him, suddenly furious. “She is, is she? You didn't think that when we sailed. She stood you up for Zaragoza, didn’t she?”

  “You're not my wife, Robbie,” he reminded her gently, “nor my mistress, either. It doesn’t become you to act as if you were.”

  Quick tears started to her eyes. “You're right,” she said in a low voice. “I won’t do it again, Will. It's only that I hate to see you wasted on a woman like that.

  Sometimes I think if she bats those eyes and flashes that smile around one more time, I'll be sick right there on the floor.”

  Will laughed again then. “That’s my girl. Just don’t catch me alone, Robbie, or I may forget my promise.” She looked into those warm amber eyes and felt as if she were drowning. She wanted so badly to touch him that her fingers burned with it, and though the morning sun was cruel to the telltale veins on his nose and cheeks, his sheer animal force made all else unimportant. In the amber vision that flicked for a moment behind her eyes, she saw herself sitting in green grass by a wild stream, cradling his head to her naked breasts. The enormity of that vision sent a hot tide of shame flowing over her face and body.

  His eyes crinkled and he touched her cheek briefly with the back of his closed hand. “Give it up, lass. I’d only hurt you like all the others. The only ones who get the best of me are those who tire of me before I can tire of them — like Carmelita. And you, my pretty, are not the type to tire fast. I’d eat you alive.”

  Roberta dropped her eyes. “Who’s to say I mightn’t give you indigestion?” She managed a wan smile.

  “I don’t know about you, but everyone from Hugh on down would string me up by the thumbs — and quite rightly — if I touched a hair of your head. Forget it, Robbie, and go to your Gavin with a whole heart. By God, how I wish I were his age again!”

  “Gavin, Gavin, that’s all I hear. I’m tired of Gavin. He only thinks he’s in love with me because I won’t have him. Is that how men are made? Is that how you’re made, Will, to love only what you can’t have?” Will’s smile died. “I don’t know, lass. I really don’t know.”

  As the sun was getting ready to set, she and just about everyone else saw Jason and Roger Ainsley down near the stem in a furious argument. Though the wind blew the sound of their voices back over the ocean, their stance and gestures radiated anger. At dinner they sat as far apart as the table would allow them, and both picked at their food in silence, ignoring the laughing badinage that flew about among the actors. Roberta remembered Jason's previous anger at breakfast and wondered what was going on.

  After dinner, still laughing over some of the sallies at the table, they all straggled up on deck as usual to look at the brilliant stars and allow their meal to settle before going to bed. The men lit cigars as they stood by the rail and the Cuban ladies did likewise, which never ceased to surprise Roberta. Jason had told her that ladies in Mexico also smoked, and she wondered what other curious customs she would find there. She was musing over this and watching the faint phosphorescence in the bow wave when Jason appeared at her side.

  “If anyone asks, I’ve been with you since dinner,” he said in a low voice.

  Roberta nodded, smiling to herself. So he was getting his own back, was he? She wondered which of the female passengers was comforting him for his wife's infidelity. Her smile disappeared. Or was it a romantic assignation after all?

  She and Jason were still at the rail when the captain himself happened along. “Haven't seen Mr. Ainsley, have you?” the small man asked. “He sent a note by a steward that he wanted to see me urgently.”

  Both Jason and Roberta shook their heads, as did the others strung out along the rail. The Priscilla was a small ship, and before long it became all too apparent that Roger Ainsley was no longer on board. The captain and the ship's doctor, a large shabby man who looked like a moth-eaten bear, held an informal inquiry, bringing people in groups of four or five into the main saloon and questioning them as to when they had last seen Ainsley. From the tenor of the questions, Roberta could see that the ship's officers at least thought that Ainsley had somehow fallen overboard by accident. Roberta thought of her own close call and shivered.

  “Since dinner I was at the rail right out there,” Jason said smoothly. “Ask the young lady here, she was with me.”

  He was mad! Surely now he didn't think she would lie for him like that. Suddenly the alibi he wanted her to give him ceased to involve merely a romantic prank. She saw that everyone was staring at her. Then Jason unaccountably smiled the kind of open, tender smile one might give a frightened child. Before she could think further, she blurted out, “Yes, he was with me. There's an exchange in Act Five we can't seem to get right.” After all, she rationalized, there was every reason to think that Roger really did fall overbo
ard by accident.

  The next morning it was a pale and tired group of people who gathered for breakfast. They eyed each other nervously, but as if in unspoken agreement everyone avoided Jason. Although the story of his alibi had filtered down even to the children, they had all seen him arguing with Ainsley not long before his death. However, Jason appeared in the dining room, his manner easy, and full of conversation about the porpoises that had chosen that morning to frolic in the bow wave of the ship.

  “I'm s-sorry I m-missed them,” Guy mourned later. “There's never so b-brave a sight as porpoises p-playing in the b-bow wave of a ship. From n-now on we should have g-good luck and a f-fast voyage.”

  “We could hardly have had worse luck up until now,” Roberta couldn’t help saying.

  “Oh yes, we could,” Hugh contradicted. “It could have been Jason or Will, and then we could have chucked the whole enterprise.”

  “I wonder if that mightn't have been the best luck of all,” Will said, frowning. “I don't like the way this venture has begun, and there’s nothing to say it will get any better, dolphins or no dolphins.”

  “Don’t be so gloomy, Will,” Jessica replied. “It could have been worse, and we're about to see all these exotic places we’ve never seen before. I think it’s terribly exciting.” She never specified whether she meant their tour or the unhappy events of the last two days, but her eyes were bright and a flag of color showed on each cheek.

  Oh no, thought Roberta, she’s into the brandy again, Please God she gets over it by Havana, or we can forget the pantomime. Without her, it’s dead. Jessica didn’t drink in excess all the time, or even Hugh wouldn’t have put up with her, but once every month or so she would tie one on and be good for nothing for the better part of a week.

  “When we reach Veracruz,” Jessica prattled on, “I want to buy a lace mantilla like Carmelita’s. They’re so much more flattering than bonnets, don’t you think? Hugh, don’t look at me like that. I promised I wouldn’t let you down, and so I shan’t. I’ve only taken a wee drop against the cold and the dark and the horror. If the truth were known, there are many others here,” she indicated all of the diners with a sweep of her hand, “who have done the same and more.”