Susan moved her chair nearer Vanessa’s. “Is that all right? What he said? Do you mind if he does it?”
“I don’t.” Vanessa took a deep breath, and let it out in an audible sigh. “I don’t have to see it. He showed it to me, and I know what it is. I’ll shut my eyes.”
Meanwhile, Johnson had put out his hand; Skip put the brown object into it.
“Sharp!” Johnson had opened the blade.
“It is,” Skip said.
Johnson closed it and passed it to Tooley, who offered it to Susan. When she shook her head, he returned it to Skip.
“I’d known Virginia before her daughter and I boarded this ship. She’d worn long sleeves then, but so what? It was cold, so everybody wore long sleeves. It’s warm here, and nobody wore them except Virginia.”
Johnson said, “Her gun. She had to hide it.”
“I was with her when she got it, and she wore long sleeves before that. That may have been why the woman who sold it to her suggested it. Perhaps I should have seen those scars then, but the room was dark—just a couple of candles. Later I saw them in one of our meetings, when she put her gun away: long scars on her left forearm.”
Skip waited for questions, but there were none. “Earlier I had showed her the brown object, the knife or shaver or whatever you call it, that I just showed Rick. She screamed when she saw it, but she couldn’t explain why it frightened her so much.”
Johnson said, “It had made the scars?”
“No. It couldn’t have. They’re recent but not as recent as that. I know when and where she got it, and it wasn’t long before she came aboard. I think those scars were made by something similar, a folding knife with a brown handle or another old shaver. When she saw this one in a shop, it woke some memory. She wanted to buy it, but she had been a good customer and the shopkeeper gave it to her. She left it behind when she fled the apartment I had given her. Seeing it unexpectedly in my hand, she was terrified.”
Skip paused, looking from face to face. “The way she got her scars is pretty obvious, I’d say. Not more than a year ago she tried to kill herself, holding the knife in her right hand—she’s clearly right-handed—and cutting her left wrist and forearm.”
Tooley said, “She failed.”
“Correct. She didn’t cut deeply enough or she cut in the wrong places. Or she was saved by someone who came in before she’d lost too much blood. Her suicide attempt was edited out, as Rick would say, but traces clearly remained. It was a traumatic event, and her memories of it must have run deep.”
Susan asked, “What are you getting at, sir?”
“A suicide ring. We were defending a case involving one before Chelle and I left the city.”
“You’re right, sir. David D. Boon.”
Vanessa rose. “You—you’re going to say I belonged to one. I don’t know a thing about them. I— There was something on the news.…”
Skip nodded. “Those memories have been taken from you, and it’s good that they were. Quickly, then. They’re very much against the law because they make a fine cover for murder. If someone—”
Johnson interrupted. “I don’t know a lot about them either, but I know the members don’t kill themselves. They kill each other.”
“Correct. The people who join them have tried to kill themselves in almost every case. They haven’t been able to do it. They lose their nerve or realize at the last moment that their life insurance will be voided by suicide. When they join, they pledge themselves to kill the member who’s been in the ring longer than anyone else. That member may insist he’s changed his mind, or run, or do whatever he chooses to try to cheat death. It doesn’t matter. The other members have sworn to track him down.”
“Him or her.”
“Exactly. I think Virginia joined a ring. The people who edited her memories took that one as well as the memory of her suicide attempt. When Virginia went into a certain restaurant, one of the diners—a female member of the ring—recognized her. This woman told the man she had been eating with, another member. He followed her with a steak knife and stabbed her in the street. I don’t know all that, but it accounts for the facts I have, and it’s the only scenario I’ve been able to put together that does.”
Susan said, “This is horrible, just horrible! Why are we talking about it?”
Johnson turned to look at her. “The bomb, of course.”
Tooley said, “You’re saying we brought the person who planted the bomb, Soriano and me. Only it would almost have to be one of mine.”
“You’re right,” Skip told him. “I’d like you to list the names of the people you got from the mercenary website. Will you do that and give it to me?”
Tooley nodded. “I haven’t got my notebook here, but I’ll make the list and get it to you as quickly as I can. Full names and service numbers.”
“Two of us are here right now,” Johnson told Skip. “Susan and I came with Mick.”
“I know.” Skip went the table and glanced at the guns. “It seems obvious to me that members of the ring traced Virginia’s movements after she left her apartment. They found out she was on this ship, but the ship had already sailed. Mick posted his announcement on a mercenary website—”
“It was a help-wanted ad.” Tooley grinned. “And I put it on all the sites I could find, sir. There were seven of them.”
“It gave the name of the ship? I’ve been assuming that.”
“The ship’s name and your name, sir. Not Virginia’s. I didn’t know she was on board when I entered it.”
“In that case they must have traced her movements. Either that, or they were confident enough that she was associated with me that my name sufficed. They signed with you. I’ve been saying ‘they,’ but it’s probably a single individual. He signed with you, and once he was on board he quickly learned that Virginia was the ship’s social director. He had brought a bomb. I have no idea how he managed to plant it in her office, and the women who might have told us are presumably dead.”
Johnson raised his hand. “I’ve been thinking about the people behind me—what they said and how they said it. I think they were women, both of them. I think I told you the first one said, ‘Who’s that?’ and the second one said, ‘She’s the social director.’ ”
“You did. Do you want to correct that or enlarge on it?”
“Yes, sir. I do. I believe the first one said, ‘Who is that who raised her hand?’ and the second said, ‘She’s the social director.’ ”
“Both were women? That’s the important point.”
Johnson shrugged. “I can’t swear to it, but that’s my impression.”
“I see.” For a moment, Skip fingered his lower lip. “It may not be significant, of course. Others may have asked the same question or the women behind you may have been overheard.”
“They were,” Johnson said. “By me.”
Susan rose. “I’d like my gun back, Mr. Grison.”
“Certainly.” Skip picked her revolver up and handed it to her. “Do you have to leave?”
“No.” Still holding it, she remained at the front of the room. “This is going to be a lynching—or … or that’s what I think. That man’s trying to put the rope around my neck.”
“I’m not,” Johnson declared.
“Look me in the eye and say that! When we were on the boat I thought we were in it together, and now you want to k-kill m-m-me.”
Skip put his arm about her shoulders. “Nobody’s going to hurt you, Susie. Nobody!”
Johnson said, “I wasn’t trying to. I didn’t know it was you.”