21st December – The Day!

At around three in the afternoon on the blistering, beautiful Aussie summer day, just three days from Christmas, MARG the yacht, pulled up its anchor and slowly sailed out of Sydney Harbour. Out toward the open sea while its short-stay occupants stowed their bags in their same old rooms—some happily, some not so happily—and got reacquainted with the offerings of the luxury boat.

Turned out, none of these losers had any plans over Christmas, surprisingly. Or if they did, they were shitty people for cancelling on others last minute, just to sail in a fancy yacht, pretending they were fancy people, with their flutes of champagne, flowing sarongs and pineapple print shirts; and their wide-brimmed hats they bought just for the occasion. After all, for each one of them, this very well was their last outing on a fancy yacht.

And thank god it was on someone else's dime!

But not for Devi and Chaya. Those two were hauled up in the yacht's main cabin, hours before any 'guests' arrived. Once the yacht glided out of the harbour and they heard faint voices outside, each eyed the locked door nervously; each wondering how the whole thing would eventually go down.

One eyed the door nervously because she was this close to her would-be-killer. The other? Well, she had her own reasons, reasons Devi was attempting to coax out of her when the rattle of the doorknob and voices outside made them both stop dead. Not move a muscle, not even breathe.

"I thought Hector said this room is out of bounds, but I swear I heard voices inside."

Rattle. Rattle.

Vinay! Devi lowered herself onto the mattress, eyes dancing to the shuttered windows, which were closed, thank god. She waved at the nurse to join her on the bed, or rather, get away from where she stood, so close to the door as if Vinay could suddenly sprout superhuman abilities to see through the door.

"Leave it alone." Bhawani's voice floated through. "Hector also said this room is our hosts'. If they're on board and find you snooping around, they'll likely kick you off their yacht."

Devi almost sniggered, picturing her foot—the heavy cast one—booting Vinay in the butt and watch him drop like a lump of lead into the sea. She'd have liked that if she could leave the room.

"But what if they're not on board? I didn't see anyone else board who wasn't here the last trip, except that copper. Why is he here?" Vinay sounded angry as he rattled the door handle again.

Devi shook her head. It's locked, numbskull!

"Come on." Bhawani sounded a little distant now, perhaps she'd begun walking away, losing patience with her boy.

"Why do I have to share with that guy again? He's brought a girl with him. Did you see it? Some stupid girl who giggles like a child ... and they're all up each other's business ..."

"You can stay with me in my room ..."

Their voices floated away and when Devi turned to her nurse, she saw the poor thing's shoulders visibly slouch as she sat on the very edge of the mattress, so close to the edge in fact that one strong swell could land the girl on her rump if she wasn't careful.

"Lucky we're only stuck in here for a day and two nights and don't have to deal with the likes of him..." she whispered. "I can't stand my nephew!"

"Huh." Chaya seemed distracted, more than ever, biting her lip as if it were a tough piece of goat meat.

"Relax. Everything will be fine. They're just getting lulled into a security tonight and Hector will whack them with the surprise tomorrow, and we're back on solid soil the next morning." Devi watched Chaya nervously swallow; she watched the girl's hand shake a little, hands she clutched together as if that would stop their tremble. It reminded her of another young girl in a similar state of nervousness not too long ago in the same room. Although her tremble might have been because of pre-accident, grouchy-Devi, back then. Nurse Chaya somewhat reminded her of that maid, hands trembling as she held the bin by the door.

That poor maid. I should have been kinder to her.

Devi reached out a hand, resolved she was going to be kinder to the nurse. But as she laid a reassuring hand on Chaya's collected bundle, it only startled the poor thing.

"It's okay." She smiled. "You're perfectly safe with me. Captain Parry is brilliant and a close friend. He won't ever let anything happen to us, or Hector. The crew is all aware of the situation, and Hector even brought his gun on board. He won't hesitate to use it if someone barges in here, trying to attack us."

Though, as Devi said this, a doubt niggled at her mind. Does Hector have it in him to shoot someone when and if the time comes? Even if it's the leg?

"I doubt Hector's ever even hurt a fly," Chaya said as if reading her mind.

Devi laughed, only to realise she was laughing hysterically. Her case and potentially her life were both in the hands of a young man who may not have ever hurt a fly. Yet here she was, a perfect little bait, locked away in a room with only one exit. This may have been a bad idea.

Perhaps I should have stayed back with Eve.

But it was way too late for Devi to have such regrets. Hector had already begun to sow seeds of doubt among the unsuspecting gathered in the dining.

#

Hector, doing his best to put on his Sherlock Holmes air, one of loftiness and smarts, ordered a gin and tonic with an extra spritz of lime at the bar, trying not to look nervous. This was after all his first rodeo as they say, and by God, he wondered, have I bitten off more than I can chew? Maybe I should have let the Sydney boys take the lead ...

But again, it was a little too late to have such regrets.

In that room, waiting for their lavish dinner prepared by one peppy chef, Toby—on the account that he was earning what he would earn in a month for just two nights—were the rest of the suspects, all side-eyeing Hector as if he was the man of the hour, the thief in the night, the man who'd crashed a party.

Little did they know it, it was Hector's party.

"Why are you here?" Vinay questioned, ordering another scotch on the rocks as if his dad owned the yacht.

Hector sipped his cocktail, which whacked him in the face with its tang, and shrugged. "My guess is as good as yours. But it's certainly interesting to see you all together."

Vinay harrumphed, leaning against the bar and watching the ragtag group in front of them. "So how's that paper on Aunty's case coming along?" He took a mighty swig of his drink as if he'd been born to drink scotch, damn the liver. "You know she fell overboard right, that drunk ass? Like, no one here actually pushed her off, if that's what you're here to find out? I mean, why would we? She was like our personal bank account ... It's actually our loss, really that she's dead."

The kid snorted—yes, Hector thought of him as an obnoxious kid, something he had in common with the kid's aunt.

I bet you would have thrown her off if you'd gotten the chance! Hector flashed him a faint smile, trying to keep the air about him indeterminate. "You sure she's dead, though?" Here was his chance to sow a seed of doubt; one he hoped would spread like wildfire through the 'guests'. A wildfire that will make them paranoid, make them make mistakes and admit to things they mightn't, out of nerves.

At least, that was what Hector was hoping for. For them to make a mistake; for them to say something subtle enough that he could whittle down to one suspect. The culprit. He was pretty sure he knew who it was and he couldn't really wait to find out, to corner them into a confession. To bag his guy! (Or girl.)

"You think she's alive after all this time?" Vinay shifted uncomfortably on his feet and eyed his mother, which Hector found ever so curious.

About them, others peered at Hector now and then, having met him already as he door knocked, pretending to be a journalist. Hector reminded himself of this and tried to act as a journalist till the time came to unveil the culprit.

"I mean, it wouldn't be the first time someone's gone missing, only to be found alive somewhere else." Hector observed the boy. "This @notaDeviDhungelfan seems to claim your aunt's alive and well in some tiny little town down south. Why would someone claim that if it wasn't true? I mean, the town is awfully close to where the yacht anchored that night ..."

Hector couldn't believe it. He was actually using that stupid account as his pièce de résistance for planting a seed of doubt. "She could have very well washed ashore and someone's found her."

Hector raised his glass to Vinay. "To your aunt then, may she be alive so you and your mum can breathe with ease ..."

Vinay shifted his weight again and eyed his mother. "To Devi." He raised his glass with pursed lips before throwing back his drink. Then ordered another shot, neat, before he excused himself with a, "When's dinner? I'm starving ..."

Curious. Hector watched as Vinay made his way to his mum's side; he saw the two talk briefly before Bhawani's worried eyes landed on him. Very curious.

"So what's a journo doing on board? I thought this was a memorial trip for Devi—people who knew her." Marvin Garcia walked up to take Hector's measure then, proffering a hand. "Marvin Garcia. We've met before."

"I remember." Hector shook the man's hand, not surprised the guy gave a hard squeeze that crushed his hand a little. "And your guess is as good as mine. Maybe this benefactor wants me to cover this trip in my article?"

"Maybe."

Riveting conversation.

"My son says you're a believer of this Devi-is-alive nonsense."

"You're not?" Hector took a sip, trying to stay casual.

"I know Devi. She's a shit swimmer. There's no way she's surviving that ocean."

"And you think she just fell off the boat?"

"Yacht." Marvin chuckled. "Devi also used to call it a boat ... but yeah, she was drunk as a skunk, rambling all sorts of nonsense about her will. Maybe she came out to get another bottle of wine and just ... plop"—he made a gesture with his hand—"straight into the water."

Hector studied the man a moment. Nothing about the guy raised suspicions. But he also didn't like the man—on account of everything Devi had said about him. "You think someone could have ... I don't know ... helped her off?"

If there was anyone on this boat he could ask that question to, it was Marvin all right. Marvin the man. Marvin the boasting blabbermouth. Marvin, who wasn't a suspect anymore but could help Hector flush out the one who was. Seed paranoia.

Marvin turned to Hector then, his brows frowned. "You think someone tried to kill her?" He subtly ran a run across his throat, his back to the others taking a seat at the table.

Hector shrugged, looking past the man's broad shoulder at the gathering. "I mean, from where I stand, everyone here has a motive. And if the rumours are true, that she's alive, I wouldn't put it past the cops to keep that nugget of information out of the media for now."

The only reason he was saying any of this to Marvin, a man known for violent bursts according to Devi, the man who'd tried to strangle his soon-to-be-ex-wife that night was that, Marvin, had a good alibi. After the attack on his wife, clearly visible on the CCTV cameras, the bartender had taken him below deck and asked Toby to babysit the fool till he became sober. Marvin was seen pretty much face down, asleep on the kitchen counter before and after the CCTV blackout.

But that doesn't mean he couldn't unwittingly help Hector!

And so, as Toby and a new crew brought the dinner out, Hector joined the table, happy that he'd used the two idiots in the room to plant some topics of discussion for sure. He just couldn't wait to slip away after, to the bridge and listen in on everyone's conversations. Someone was bound to slip up.

And he didn't have to wait long.

Marvin threw out a flurry of words that got the table chatting away, debating whether the words had any merit at all, right there in front of Hector himself, almost immediately.

"Guess what, Mr Smith here thinks the rumour mill has some truth in it. That Devi could be alive, and the cops are in on it."

"Didi is still alive?" Bhawani nervously looked up from her entrée.

"But how can anyone survive that storm?"

"Maybe she got lucky, and another boat found her?"

"But surely, they wouldn't keep it a secret? I mean, the trouble it's caused people these past weeks ... us ... the trouble it's caused us ..."

Hector peered at each one as they spoke, clamouring over one another to be heard. Their little nervous ticks all on display: a fidget here, a shift of the weight there, a nervous chuckle, restless eyes, a supressed pout. Everything. It was perfect. Perfect.

"... Don't be absurd. She's dead, and this is just a publicity stunt by the book people ..."

The only man who said nothing, whose hard eyes settled on Hector all evening, was the lawyer, Don Nguyen.

Interesting. Very interesting.

"You're awfully quiet, Mr Nguyen. What do you make of all this?" Hector asked of the man as they finished the main.

Mr Nguyen placed his napkin to the side and peered up, his face stoic as can be. "It's all hearsay at this point. Unless the police or a member of the public provides solid proof Devi is dead or alive, we're all speculating at best, and I'd rather not speculate, thank you, Mr Smith."

Curious. Hector nodded, recalling an interesting bit of information Brady had recently dug up—his sudden right-hand man—after he asked him to reach out through his network of journos to dig up more dirt on all suspects if there were any. And boy was there some dirt on Mr Nguyen.

"I heard you recently acquired a large office in the city." Hector popped his cutlery down, having completely cleaned out his plate of the best lamb shanks he ever had. Toby Fletcher was worth every penny he paid.

Wonder where you got that kind of money from, Mr Nguyen?

"I don't know what you're implying, Mr Smith." Mr Nguyen pushed his chair back. "I recently won a big settlement, and as a thank you, my client secured me an office in the city. It's all above board, I assure you. Now, if you'll all excuse me, I think I'll take my dessert in my room."

"How come he gets his own room?" Vinay rumbled in the back.

But Hector eyed the lawyer as he exited the room.

Curious. Ever so curious.