A Wedding and a Murder

A wedding and a Murder

Suzanne Marsh

Margo Martel planned her wedding for what seemed like years; her fiance Hugo Tyree had waited for ten years. I met him at several of Margo’s dinners, ones for the people who worked for her. My name is Warwick Hart, and I work for Margo as a Private Investigator. I do background checks for people she wishes to hire and protect her from prying eyes. Margo wanted a huge wedding with everyone who worked for her there. I stood by the entrance, checking the wedding invitations, attempting not to be conspicuous. The music began at exactly three o’clock in the afternoon, and they played for an hour.

Finally, the Bridal March began, Margo on the arm of her dad. Her wedding gown was satin with lace covering it, and her veil was over her face. She was stunning; Hugo thought the same thing as he waited to receive his bride. A shot rang out. I grabbed my Glock 19 from its hidden holster under my arm. I ran as quickly as possible toward where the shot came from. Someone shouted: “Over here, the pianist’s been shot! In quick succession, another shot rang out: a cat screamed in pain. Margo was near collapse as she ran to her cat, Runyon, a Russian Blue, and a very expensive cat. Tears began to roll down her cheeks, and Hugo comforted her for several moments. I sprang toward the cat, I took it to a veterinarian around the block, and had it euthanized. I then jogged back to the wedding; the pianist bled out before I returned.. It was three-thirty in the afternoon when I began to investigate the murder of Peter Van Echstein.

The shooter, hidden behind a bush, was mortified that he shot the wrong man. The information he was given was not the pianist, what would he tell his employer? There was a problem; he shot a defenseless cat and the pianist. Margo Martel Tyree and her husband were his primary targets; he had no idea why, nor did he care. He missed the opportune moment; now he would have to wait while Margo and Hugo were on a world cruise, he figured roughly six months. He had other jobs to do, so while waiting for them, he had thoughts then of just getting on the same ship and closely watching them. If a chance presented itself, he could make the whole thing worth his while. His decision was made, and he was going on the ship, the Splendor of the Seas. He needed a vacation; this was it. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he could finish the job he started. Margo and Hugo, his primary targets.

The Splendor of the Seas was docked as it awaited Mr. and Mrs. Hugo Tyree. Margo wanted her honeymoon to be a private affair; she bought all the tickets available for purchase. The Splendor of the Seas was huge; her capacity for passengers was 7000, with 16 decks, and even Margo was in awe. She set sail around nine o’clock in the evening. Margo and Hugo stood near the railing as they watched the dock disappear. Finally, they were alone, for the first time. No one noticed the stowaway who crept on board and hid below decks.

The honeymoon began with a champagne candlelight dinner: white tablecloth, two filet steaks, and champagne. The plates were the finest white with gold trim, the best money could buy. Margo and Hugo held hands as the waiters brought their food to them. Margo was thrilled as they passed the Statue of Liberty. Life treated her well, or so she thought. She had waited to marry; at thirty-five, she finally tied the knot. Hugo, she knew, was a good choice; he had good looks and a brain. Margo, by the time she was thirty-one years of age was a billionaire, owner and CEO of the Banana Company.

Later that evening, Margo sent for a steward; she desperately wanted a Coke and rum, in the hopes of it helping her to go to sleep. Hugo waited for her to finish her rum and Coke, then he took her for the first time.

The stowaway watched the steward with the rum and Coke. He thought that if he could manage it, he would put rat poison in her drink; shooting on board this massive ship simply was not a good idea, but poison was. No fuss, no mess, it was a perfect murder.

Suddenly, the stowaway spotted Margo’s Private Investigator: what was he doing on board the ship? It was, after all, Margo and Hugo’s honeymoon. That put the kibosh on any plans he had made. He decided to jump ship at the first port of call for Margo and Hugo. Time was wasting, and he wondered exactly where the first port of call was. Two days later, the Splendor of the Seas docked in Aruba. He quickly fled the ship. The stowaway thought: ‘That was too close for comfort, I need a plan, better than this one. He knew if he failed, his employer would have him killed. He took a plane from Aruba to New York City, landing at JFK. He returned to Margo’s swanky apartment, hoping to find an itinerary. He went through the desk drawers, nothing. He could not just call the cruise line and ask where the ship was stopping next. Then he remembered the wall safe in Margo’s office; if there was an itinerary, it had to be in the wall safe. Dressed in black, he made his way into the office, praying he would remember the combination. He had used it several times while he worked for Margo, years ago.

The tumblers moved slowly, and time seemed to sit still. He found the itinerary, the next port of call, he smiled to himself, was Panama. He made Margo’s apartment look as if it had been burglarized. Chairs were turned upside down, and desk drawers were pulled out. He left the scene, he called a friend of his and asked him if he would fly him to Panama, stating he needed a vacation.

The dark-haired man answered his cell phone on the second ring:

“Is the job complete? Margo and Hugo had better be dead, or you will be.”

“Not yet, sir. My aim was slightly off; I killed Margo’s cat. I had no idea she was going

to rent an entire ship for a six-month cruise around the world. I will be boarding the ship again

in Panama. After I am on board, I will wait for an opportunity to murder them both.”

“See that you do so, or your million dollars won’t be much good to you dead.”

He disconnected the call. How could he have hired someone so incompetent? He was not thrilled with the entire situation. He wanted Margo and Hugo out of the way; he wanted Margo’s company. That inept fool, if Margo and Hugo are still alive, I will murder them myself, he thought.

He arrived in Panama early; the ship had not docked yet. He went to the closest store and purchased rat poison, quick and fatal. The Splendor of the Seas arrived late in the evening, which meant that Margo and Hugo would not disembark until morning. He would sneak aboard, lace the sugar with rat poison, and be on his way, a million dollars waiting in his bank.

Later, when the ship's lights went out, he boarded the ship. He went down to the galley where Margo’s special sugar supply was. It was a specialty brand; he laced the sugar with the rat poison. He still had a problem; Hugo never used sugar. He thought about Hugo, then he remembered that the sugar would work for both; Hugo loved a good piece of apple pie. He was back at the hotel, feeling that everything had fallen into place.

Margo and Hugo had a snack before leaving the ship. Hugo ordered apple pie, and Margo, her sweet tooth taking over, ordered a piece of chocolate marble cake. They finished their snacks and began to leave when the first wave of nausea struck. They returned to their suite, and Margo called the Ship’s captain, complaining. The captain sent for the Panama police and a doctor. The doctor arrived with the police:

“What is the trouble?” asked the doctor

“The couple renting the ship became ill. Something is not right,” the captain replied.

The captain took the doctor to the cabin suite. Margo was nauseated, tears streaming down her face. The doctor listened to the symptoms and said poisoning. There was no time to waste; the doctor summoned an ambulance for Margo and Hugo. The police officer in the interim went with the purser, and the captain called the purser:

“Our passengers were poisoned. Check the food and condiments.”

Meanwhile, the would-be killer sat silently in his hotel room, he left to get dinner. He pulled out his cell phone, punched in 555-552-1234. His employer answered:

“Is it done?” He waited for the reply: Yes, I want my money NOW.”

“You listen, I don’t pay unless I am sure they are dead.”

“Okay, Mr. Johnston, then I'll go to the police and tell them everything from the time you hired me

till now.” He knew he was pressing his luck when Johnston replied:

“Go ahead, tell the cops. I disappear for a few years, then return, you go to prison for life.”

He wished he had never taken this job. Johnston was ruthless. He wanted the company badly; he already owned most of the other companies that did business with the Banana Company.

He returned from dinner to find a man in a white suit and straw hat awaiting his arrival:

“What are you doing here? How did you get in here?”

The man in the white suit began:

“We know you were on board the cruise ship; we found your fingerprints all over the galley.

You senor are under arrest for attempted murder of Margo and Hugo Tyree.”

He was stunned. Johnston had turned him over to the authorities.

Margo and Hugo recovered.