As Warren turned the corner on the upper deck, he quickly saw the crewmen gathered near the cargo hold where he had previously escaped. The hatch was now wide open, which didn’t surprise him. He assumed the watch would eventually get out of the cargo bay. What surprised him was the prostrate form of a sailor laying face up on the deck near the hatch. While he couldn’t hear the words, the other sailors milling around displayed excitement and anger. One man, wearing the uniform of an officer, sent a tall boy to the bridge. As Warren stood transfixed, he watched the young sailor run to the stern of the ship. The boy clambered up the ladder in front of Warren, nearly running him over.

“What happened? Some accident?” he asked the crewman.

“Nein, someone shot the watch,” the boy told him in a thick German accent before scrambling up the next ladder to the bridge.

Warren reacted with horror at the thought he must have locked the sailor in the cargo area with Krupin’s killer. It was his fault.

He walked away with a feeling of remorse. Something else occurred to him. He now had an alibi. Amber knew he couldn’t have killed the crewman. He would force her to back him.

Then he remembered his missing gun. A wave of panic swept across Warren. No, his luck was never this good. He was certain about the gun used. It would have to be his missing weapon. They would find Krupin’s body next to the trunk with his name on it. Everything pointed back to Warren Baker.

So, the bastard writer dropped the other shoe on me!

As he hurried to his cabin, his stomach felt sick, and his mind sprinted forward with useless memories. Each of them brought back his deaths inside his purgatory hell.

I got to find a way off this ship!

~~~

Amber sat on her bed, leaning against the wall with the pillow wrapped in her arms as she tried to decide about the man who had just left her cabin.

Warren Baker confused her.

Coming aboard the ship, she thought she knew the man. He was a loathsome gambler who enjoyed playing as the black sheep within his family. Known for his association with the worst of the con artists and racketeers in Boston, he made the society columns occasionally. Warren, the eligible bachelor, found time to hang out with loose women and crooks like Tony Krupin.

Somehow, Warren Baker always kept himself one step ahead of the law. When Amber overheard a single conversation, she realized how devious the man truly could be. The revelation changed her life. Committed to exposing the man for the rat that he was, she followed Warren for over a month. Her patience was now rewarded.

I could send him to the electric chair!

Still, doubts crept in as she thought back. As much as it bothered her to say it, Warren was correct. Amber would have heard the gunshot, so it was clear he could not be the murderer of Tony Krupin.

Still, it would serve him right if she went to the captain and put Warren on the hook for it. Even though Amber knew he didn’t have enough time to commit the murder, she believed her family’s well-being still lay in her hands.

 “Still, isn’t justice served, anyway?” She wondered aloud.

Amber struggled throughout the night with this dilemma. Their conversation told her something about the man. Even if they were all lies, she could not imagine herself as cold-blooded enough to have him pay for a crime he did not commit. He was right. Warren would have never left her alive if he killed Krupin.

Other things nagged at her thoughts as well. It was the way Warren did not seem to recognize her last name. And agreeing to go to the district attorney at her suggestion shocked her. At first, she thought he was putting on an act. After a while, she seriously considered the idea he was cracking up under pressure.

However, as the night wore on, she noticed an underlying vulnerability in what the man told her, which was unexpected. She couldn’t believe a blackmailer would expose so much to her. It appeared as though he had accepted his fate but was still struggling to escape from his impending situation.

Amber also noticed how Warren made statements as if he knew what his future held. Some of his words he used had a vaguely familiar ring to her. Still, they made no sense.

Nobody used some of the apparent slang he used, especially not an upper-crust blueblood from Beacon Hill. Then, he gave her the impression he did not know why he was on the ship. The whole thing just made little sense.

She frowned, shaking her head as she went into the bathroom. Turning on the dim light, she got a drink of water, staring into the small mirror over the sink.

“No!” she told her reflection. “I won’t let him off.”

Baker would pay for the pain and suffering he had caused her family. Getting him in front of the district attorney with what she knew about him solved everything. He would walk right into her trap. After they arrested Warren, she would expose the truth to the world, and let the consequences fall where they would. There would be no guilt in this path.

When she walked back into the room, she opened the small curtain that covered one porthole in her wall. The woman noticed the morning light revealed a shoreline near to the ship. It would be good to get back to land and close out this part of her life, she thought.

Amber heard two knocks on her cabin door. She walked to the door and found a ship’s officer standing there. He introduced himself as she noticed the ship’s bursar standing behind the man.

“Miss Fane, I’m sorry to disturb you at this hour, but we’ve had an… a—incident overnight. My name is Konrad Holtz, and I am the First Officer of the Andes,” he told her in clipped English.

“We are checking with all the guests to see what you might know about this unfortunate event.”

“I’m sorry, what incident?” Amber hoped her face revealed nothing to the man.

“Ah, yes. Might I come in to discuss with you?” he asked firmly. “It’s a rather delicate matter.”

Amber stepped back from the door for Holtz, who ordered his man to stay outside. The first officer took his time looking around the cabin before he spoke. He pulled out a notebook from his breast pocket.

“Yes, well now. We found one of our men dead in the cargo area of the ship early this morning. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you more at the moment, but, suffice to say, it was not an accident.”

Surprised at the news, Amber’s face went pale.

“One of your men?” she asked anxiously. “What can I say? I’m shocked, but what has this to do with me?”

The man’s face remained unmoved as he continued.

“That is not all. During our inspection of the cargo in the hold, we found another body. It appears one of the ship’s passengers, Mr. Krupin, died by the same means. I believe you knew Krupin.”

The woman tried to act out her reaction by placing her hand to her mouth.

“How terrible,” she replied. “What happened?”

“I cannot say much beyond what I’ve stated. My captain has ordered an investigation into the whole affair. He has contacted the authorities in port as well. Back to my question. You knew Mr. Krupin, correct?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that. I knew who the man is—I mean was. Occasionally, I saw Mr. Krupin with his guests at dinner.” Amber said as she went to the desk. She sat while keeping her hands held together.

“I see,” he replied. “And did you see Tony Krupin with Mr. Baker last night?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Can you confirm if there was a disagreement between the Mr. Baker and Mr. Krupin?” He asked.

She hesitated.

“I—well, I really can’t say since I was not paying any attention,” she finally replied.

The first officer stiffened slightly at the news.

“Miss Fane, are you sure of this? I believe you knew Mr. Baker as well.” Holtz said with a raised eyebrow before he looked down at his notebook.

“Why would you ask this?” Amber glanced up at him.

Holtz looked back at the bursar by the cabin entrance.

“It appears you’ve shown a keen interest in Mr. Baker when you came aboard,” he told her. “We also would like to speak with him.”

 Surprised, she realized her mistake.

“Excuse me, Miss Fane. I have a person who states you specifically asked for a table close to the table where Mr. Krupin sat.” The first officer’s voice betrayed his skepticism at her answers so far.

“Do you know where Mr. Baker might be?”

 “I would assume in his cabin. Obviously, he’s not here,” she replied. She frowned, showing her frustration about answering the questions.

“Yes, well, as I stated, it is a delicate matter. Baker is not in his cabin, and the captain has given orders for us to detain him,” Holtz said.

“Are you sure you don’t know where he might be?”

Amber rose from her chair, her face turning red.

“It is not my place to monitor Mr. Baker, I assure you,” she asserted. “Now, do you have anything else? You can check my bath if you believe I’m helping him.”

The man’s face reddened slightly as he observed her.

“My apologies for these questions, but we cannot find your friend. It would be better if he turned himself in.”

The first officer went to the open door before turning back to the woman.

“Please keep that in mind. By the way, the ship will dock at 10:00 am this morning. I would guess there will be a delay when the authorities come aboard. They might want to talk to you as well.”

He told her as he tipped his hat to her.

“Good day to you, madam.”

Before she could respond, Holtz closed the door. Amber practically ran to the entrance, listening as the two men took several steps over to the next cabin. While she resented the officer’s insinuation, her mind raced with other concerns. As the next cabin to hers answered the knocks, she went over what she heard from the first officer.

What happened in the cargo area?

She could only guess Warren must have found some place to hide on the ship. Now fully alert, Amber opened the door and left her cabin to learn more.