All by Myself, Alone

It was apparent to Alvirah, Willy and Ted that there would be no persuading Celia to change her mind. Alvirah and Willy were three doors down from Ted. Celia was three more down from Ted and across the hall. When Willy and Alvirah said good night, Ted walked Celia to her room.

“Celia, I’m so worried about you,” he said. “Would you let me curl up on the big chair in your sitting room?”

Celia shook her head. “Thank you, but no.”

“I thought that would be your answer,” Ted said. “But I insist on going in and making sure your room is safe. When you lock that door, I want to be one hundred percent certain that you are the only one inside.”

Celia nodded as she inserted the electronic key in the lock. Ted went in ahead of her. “Wait here, please,” he said as he walked quickly across the room and pulled open the closet doors. She watched as he entered the bedroom area, opened the doors of the armoire and got down on one knee and looked under the bed. He then slid open the glass door to the balcony, went outside and looked around.

“I’m glad I left the suite neat or this could have been really embarrassing,” Celia said.

“Celia, please. This is no time for jokes. I want to ask you one last time—”

Celia shook her head. “I really appreciate the offer, but no. We all have to get up early and then we’ll be herded off the ship. I promise if someone tries to come into my room, I’ll scream like a banshee.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Ted said. “In Irish folklore a banshee is a spirit in the form of a woman who appears to a family and wails when someone is about to die.”

“I thought I was the expert on legends,” Celia said with a smile. “I’ll be fine, Counselor.”

“You’re very stubborn,” Ted said as he put his arms around her. To his dismay he realized how thin and fragile she seemed. He was sure that the stress of her ex-fiancé’s arrest and the accusations against her had caused her to lose weight.

“Okay. You win,” Ted said. “I want to hear you double lock the door.”

“Right now, immediately,” Celia promised. With a quick kiss on her forehead, Ted pulled the door closed behind him and stood there until he heard the faint rattle of the chain sliding into place.

For a moment he stayed outside the door as every instinct told him not to leave. But then, with a sigh, he turned, went down the corridor to his room and stepped inside.





93




In his usual way Willy fell into a deep sleep the minute he shed his clothes and got into bed. His T-shirt and boxers were always his chosen night garments, despite Alvirah’s gifts of pajamas and robes. These gifts were promptly exchanged for shirts and chinos.

Alvirah’s nightwear was a comfortable long-sleeved nightgown. A cotton robe was always placed at the foot of the bed. Her glasses were always in one of the pockets as well as a bottle of Tylenol in case her increasing arthritis threatened her rest.

Like Willy, she fell asleep quickly. Unlike him, she awoke a few hours later. With a start, she realized that her usual secure and comfortable position, her shoulder wedged over Willy’s, was not working.

She was on edge, troubled, deeply worried about Celia. Why wouldn’t she come in here and stay with me? she fretted. Suppose someone got into her room? Brenda is a big strong woman, but she had been overpowered by whoever broke into her room. What chance would Celia have in a struggle?

And so it went. The first soft whistle of Willy’s snore, usually a source of comfort, did little to reassure her.





94




It was now or never. The Man with One Thousand Faces deliberately walked up the two flights of stairs to avoid meeting anyone in the corridor. He stepped slowly into his suite and began to put his plan into action.

The first order of business was to completely change his appearance. Although he was almost certain that no one had seen him the nights he had broken into Lady Em’s and Brenda’s rooms, he would use a different disguise. It began with his eyes. Taking dark brown contact lenses out of a box, he slipped them in. That’s the easy part, he thought; the next part takes time and skill. He opened his makeup kit, glanced in the mirror and began practicing an art that had started when he volunteered to work on theatrical productions during his high school days.

A face cream turned his complexion sallow. Eyebrow pencil turned his thin brows into a dark, belligerent midnight-brown. Slashes of deep lines totally altered his face. He pasted into place a medium-length graying beard. Satisfied that it was on straight, he took a brown wig, stretched it over his head and patted it into place. Experience had taught him that a potential witness would be more likely to focus on the contrast between the dark hair and the graying beard, and spend less time looking at the face.

He took a long slow look at himself in the mirror, turning his head from side to side. Excellent, he thought with satisfaction. He reached into his suitcase for the shoes. The lifts on them would add three inches to his height.

He pulled on the butler’s jacket he had stolen from the kitchen on his floor. It was a reasonably good fit, with some extra room in the shoulders and waist. He took masking tape from a compartment in his suitcase and slipped it in the jacket’s side pocket. A pair of wire cutters was carefully placed in the opposite pocket.

For the next fifteen minutes he practiced limping slightly to the left and dragging his foot on the ground.





95




A few hours later Alvirah awakened with a start. She felt her heart racing as she tried to calm herself after dreaming about Celia. There’s no way I’m going to fall back to sleep, she thought, as she pulled on her robe and went into the outer room of her suite.

Not quite sure why, she opened the door to the hallway. The soft light made her eyes blink. I should go down to Celia’s room, knock on her door and make sure she’s okay, she thought. A glance at her watch made her feel foolish. All Celia needs to really scare her to death is my banging on her door at three-thirty in the morning. I should mind my own business and go back to bed.

She was in the process of closing her door when she heard it. A sound of metal snapping came down the hallway from the direction of Celia’s room. Were her ears playing tricks on her? A few moments later she heard a muffled scream. It was over almost as fast as it had begun, but she felt sure she knew what it was.

She was about to go wake up Willy when she changed her mind. Ted can get there faster, she thought, as she raced down the hall, and started banging on Ted’s door. “Ted, get up. Celia’s in trouble.”

Mary Higgins Clark's books