The Eldritch Conspiracy

27

I hate the paparazzi. Just hate ’em. Some of them will do anything, risk anything, to get a picture or story. Never mind who gets hurt in the process. There are even those who, if they can’t get the story, will stage a story.

Nellie Standish was evidently one of those.

She wouldn’t give us her source, but admitted she’d been slipped information about tonight’s party. She’d also been told that Adriana wanted “one last fling” before she and Dahlmar tied the knot and that if Standish could get a camera on board, she’d find a naked man in the princess’s bedroom.

Baker and I went to check on that detail, letting others continue the questioning.

Adriana’s stateroom was down the hall from the main room where the party guests were waiting. Her private cabin was spacious, beautiful, and after a thorough check, unoccupied except for a male blow-up doll propped up by pillows. The doll’s staggeringly huge member was adorned by a big red bow.

I burst out laughing. I mean, seriously, a blow-up doll?

Baker gave a derisive snort. “She risked getting killed for this toy.”

“At the right distance and angle, she might be able to make it look real. And even photos of this would be embarrassing for King Dahlmar if they got out.”

“Or she could be an assassin, using this as cover.”

Baker was right. Paparazzi go everywhere—it would be a great way for an assassin to hide. “When you find out, let me know. I’m going to deal with Seymour here and report to the princess.”

“Seymour?” Baker asked.

“Yeah, I’m seeing more of him than I ever wanted.”

She chortled and left, first handing me a device I could use to scan my cousin’s “last fling.” I didn’t touch it, in case being tossed off the bed in disgust was a trigger. There was no bomb. But that’s not the only thing that can kill.

I had no doubt I looked ridiculous hooking the scanner to the air port, which some clever soul had placed right where fluid comes out of a human male, to check out what the doll was filled with. I’d hate to find out it had been inflated with sarin gas.

I waited for the light on the device to turn green, but it remained stubbornly yellow. Not red, but there was definitely something more to Seymour than his obvious attributes.

I called in Baker and Griffith and managed not to blush as I told them to bag and tag the doll and get it off the boat without deflating it.

I took Adriana into a small cabin to brief her. She was rightly alarmed as what looked like a body bag was removed from her personal cabin. I explained what had happened without mentioning the contents of the doll, then she and I went back to the main room, where the other guests were sitting and staring at nothing. That likely meant they were busily talking mentally.

“Excuse me,” I said out loud, startling several of them, “but which of you left a gift on Adriana’s bed?” Nobody answered. That wasn’t good. “Really, this is important, ladies. If you did, we need to know.”

Finally, Nani raised her hand sheepishly. “It was poor taste on my part, I know. But the expression on it made me laugh. I’m sorry if it frightened anyone.”

Adriana laughed and told the others what I’d found. They all chuckled before Adriana swatted her friend’s knee. “You scamp, Nani! I’m sorry I didn’t get to see it.”

Ouch. I’d been hoping it hadn’t been left by one of Adriana’s friends. Now came the hard part. “Did you actually fill the doll?”

Nani, big-with-child, been-with-a-hundred men siren Nani, blushed. “Good heavens, no! Did you see where they put the nozzle?” She turned to the others. “It was right on the end of his … well, you know. Most of them have the place where you blow it up on the back of the head. No, I asked one of the servants to fill it.”

I heard a cheep near the door. It was Baker’s earwig. She listened intently and then nodded. “Ten-four,” she said into the mic at her wrist. She stepped forward and took over the questioning. “Did you instruct the servant to place anything in the doll except air, your ladyship?”

Nani shook her head, confused. “No. Of course not. Why, what—” She didn’t complete the sentence but her expression told me she’d figured out what was going on. Gasps from the others told me everyone else had gotten it too.

“What did you find, Agent Baker?” Adriana’s voice shook, and for good reason. Everybody on board, with the exception of the reporters, was someone she trusted.

“There was THC suspended in a mixture of air and ethylene. It wouldn’t kill the princess, but since she is a prophet, it would likely cause euphoria and hallucinations. We don’t know what was intended beyond that. Perhaps the photographer would catch her in a compromising position or appearing drunk, which would inflame the Ruslandic population. Or perhaps someone hoped she would fall overboard and drown. Of course, that could never happen. The ocean wouldn’t allow a siren princess to die by drowning. Or perhaps it was a prank. We might not ever know. But I do need to know which servant you asked to fill the doll.”

Nani named the male bartender. Adriana protested that she’d known him for years. When the security team scoured the ship for him, they found him easily—he’d hung himself in his cabin. We might never know why he’d done it or who he might have been working with.

The whole chain of events cast a pall over the party and it wasn’t long before the captain turned the ship around to take the subdued group of friends back to shore.