WALKABOUT - Taking a Mulligan (136 - 140)

136

Jasmine

Daniel Seton was never a problem for anyone. He was well liked, and never harmed anyone physically, emotionally, or financially. Daniel Seton paid his bills on time, and did a professional job as the ships photographer.

Dexter Flynn, the leader of the Death Adders motorcycle club of Australia was the real target. Unfortunately, Flynn was heavily armed, surrounded at all times by loyal bodyguards, and nearly impossible to get to.

Mulligan would know that Jasmine would be on the cruise, and he would be planning a very unpleasant reunion.  She had placed the note under Mulligan’s door. Like advancing King’s pawn to E4, it was the opening move, a bid to control the center of the board. She’d even provided a Zorro costume for him. She herself was Little Bo Peep. The pirate wench she had promised in the note was only to throw him off, keeping him at a disadvantage as he tried vainly to find her.

137

Jasmine

Daniel Seton would be working the masquerade party. Taking photographs. Mingling with the passengers.

She would need to get rid of the photographer with or without Mulligan’s help. It would be nice if Mulligan would let her explain, then proceed to work together with her again as a team on the Australian contract.

Like the zebra shot by the hunter to serve as bait for the lion, Daniel Seton would serve as bait for Flynn.

Placing aconite in the photographer’s drink had been easily accomplished. It would only be a matter of time, and his heart would stop. Seton’s body would be placed in the ship’s morgue. An autopsy would not detect the presence of the aconite, and there would be a funeral in Australia in a few days. Dexter Flynn would be there, and his bodyguards would not be standing next to him when he offered his condolences to Daniel Seton’s sister.

138

Jared Mulligan

A Zorro costume was delivered to my cabin early in the afternoon. At first, I wasn’t going to go to the masquerade party. But then, later in the day, I became curious as to how I would look in the costume.

It fit almost perfectly. No one would confuse me for Antonio Benderas, but I didn’t look half bad, in my opinion.

I kept the costume on all day, until the party. Kind of weird, I suppose, but hey, it was fun, and I wasn’t hurting anybody. And, I know this will sound strange, for some reason I felt more creative while in the costume, and was able to finish the outline for my novel.

Finally, the time came to go to the party, and I grabbed my plastic sword.

139

Jasmine

Sitting across the table from her, Daniel Seton had the drink in his hand. Zorro entered the room just as Seton was in the act of bringing the drink to his mouth. In less than an hour, he would be dead.

“Daniel,” the chief steward placed a hand on the photographer’s shoulder. “The Captain requests that you come to his table. Bring your camera.”

Seton placed the drink back on the table. “Be my pleasure, mate.”

Jasmine watched as her plan evaporated into thin air. ‘No problem,’ she thought, ‘I always enjoy a challenge.’  Zorro was now her main focus. Something was different. She knew the way Jared Mulligan moved, the way he carried himself. This was not Mulligan.

She crossed the room, got close enough to deliberately bump into him, spilling her drink on his shirt. “Oh excuse me,” she said. “I’m Little Bo Peep. I was looking for my lost sheep, and didn’t see you. I’m sorry.”

Zorro had not shown much reaction to her spilling the drink on him, but when she spoke, it seemed to momentarily unnerve him. He looked into her eyes, searching for something. Or someone. After a long, awkward moment, he said, “No problem.”

Jasmine went rigid. She had only spoken to the man a couple of times in her life, but she knew the voice of Ty Hamilton when she heard it. His presence on the ship answered a dozen questions, and presented a dozen more.

Zorro said, “I was looking for a friend who is coming as a pirate wench. I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Little Bo Peep smiled, curtsied, and wiggled her fingers like a child waving goodbye. She turned and walked away. When she looked over her shoulder, Zorro had vanished.

140

Jared Mulligan

There were more people than I had imagined. I guessed maybe three hundred of us in costume. There were Star Trek characters. One fellow came as Larry the Cable Guy. Kept going up to people and saying, “Gitter done!” I watched as he went up to a Captain Kirk and said, “You know how a roll of toilet paper’s like the Starship Enterprise?”

“No.”

“They’s both-a-travelin’ to Yer-Anus to wipe out the cling-ons!”

Kirk didn’t think it was funny, but I had to laugh.

There were nursery rhyme characters. One of them, Little Bo Peep, who spilled her drink on me, wore that perfume I liked. And, of course, there were movie characters. Indiana Jones, Lara Craft, Marge Gunderson—the cop in Fargo, Cat Woman; and me, Zorro, to name a few.

But the pirate wench was nowhere to be found. Just as well. I was never one to mingle in large crowds, so I decided to call it a night.

I had been enjoying being Jared Mulligan. But, the Ty Hamilton in me still kept asking, ‘Why?’

Why had I been targeted?

Why did Sheriff Bridges force me to dig what was to have been my own grave?

The answers had to be in the video. I decided it was finally time to have a look.

I accessed the internet on the desktop in my cabin. It was time to take a look at that e-mail I’d sent myself the day when the sheriff came for the camera.