Murder on Board Ship (eBook)

A Fabel Retief Thriller, Book 7

Meiring Fouche, Pieter Haasbroek (Autoren)

Pieter Haasbroek (Herausgeber)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
136 Seiten
Pieter Haasbroek (Verlag)
9780000923004 (ISBN)

Infos

He was the most hated man on the ship.

Now he's missing, presumed dead.

But on this vessel, nothing is as it seems.

On a luxurious trans-oceanic mail ship, former detective Fabel Retief is determined to enjoy a quiet holiday. His plans are shattered when he meets Rene Baumgarten, the beautiful but terrified secretary to the brutish millionaire, Max Lewis. She's convinced her boss is in mortal danger, and she begs for Fabel's help to keep him alive.

Before Fabel can act, Lewis vanishes into the night, his body later found floating in the vast, dark ocean. Now, a ruthless killer stalks the corridors, and their sights are set on Rene and the priceless secret Lewis died to protect. Trapped at sea, Fabel must unravel a web of smuggling, greed, and murder before he and Rene become the next victims thrown to the waves.

This thrilling locked-room mystery at sea is a must-read for lovers of classic action, suspense, and detective fiction. It's perfect for fans of Agatha Christie's high-stakes puzzles and Alistair MacLean's high-seas tension.

Every adventure has an end. For Fabel Retief, it's in the middle of the ocean with a murderer. Don't miss the shattering, final chapter in the series you've followed from the very beginning. The last page awaits.

Textauszug

7. MURDER ON BOARD SHIP

Chapter 1

No one on board the grand pleasure cruiser liked the man. He was evidently independent, immensely rich, rude, and a brute. He was a portly man with a thick, bullish neck and a pair of spectacles with thickish lenses and a black frame.

In the brightly lit dining salon of the passenger ship, the tall, handsome South African was now looking at this man again. What he could not comprehend was that the old chap found himself in the company of such a beautiful young woman. She had the face of an angel, and her hair was luxuriant with the gleam of polished copper in it. She was fit and delicate and apparently exceptionally intelligent. The tall, slender fellow had already noticed that she had two heavenly blue eyes and a ready smile. She was always with the stout man, almost like his shadow. They ate together in the dining salon, they were often together on deck, but they spoke to no one. They seemingly had no contact with anyone. They never participated in deck games and never even attended the musical concerts and other entertainments.

What was striking was that the portly man was apparently rude to the girl. It very seldom happened that he remained seated at the table with her until she had finished eating. He always swallowed his food like a glutton, then he would jump up and walk out of the dining salon. Truly a distasteful and unattractive old man.

There he was, getting up again right now. He threw his napkin down on the table and waddled out of the dining salon. Quite dutifully, the girl picked up the napkin, folded it, and placed it next to his plate. Then she glanced furtively to see if anyone was perhaps looking at her, and it was then that her gaze met that of the tall, slender South African.

For a moment they continued to stare at each other, her face pale and expressionless and her blue eyes a little dark. His face, too, was expressionless, but his eyes were sharp and piercing.

He sat at the table for a few more moments, wondering about the mystery of the stout man and the slender, beautiful girl. Could she be his daughter? Or was he possibly a millionaire who had married a young wife?

He downed his coffee, stood up, and walked out. He had to pass close by her table. He glanced at her a little playfully, and to his surprise, he saw that she was smiling at him. It unsettled him for a moment, made him a little uncertain. He lit a cigarette and walked out onto the deck. He stood for a while against the ship’s railing, looking down into the dark water. The cigarette glowed red against the dark backdrop of the sea. Here where he stood, the light was rather dim, but one could still see what one was doing.

It was just as he turned to lean with his back against the railing that he saw her walking over to him. She looked like a butterfly. Her hair gleamed in the dim light, and it did not look as if she were walking. It looked as if she were floating. Around her shoulders, she wore a beautiful light shawl, and she was so light that her footsteps on the deck were practically inaudible.

She came to stand by the railing about a yard from the tall man, took out her cigarette case, placed a cigarette in it, and then she politely asked him for a match. Her voice was soft and calm. Soothing, with something deep and mysterious in it.

He took out his lighter, flicked it on, and lit her cigarette for her. For a moment her beautiful head was near his, and he became aware of the soft fragrance of her hair. He noticed her fingers and saw that on her ring finger, there was only a simple decorative ring. Nothing more to bind her.

“Thank you very much,” she said. “I am sorry to have been a bother.”

He thought of her smile in the dining salon a few moments ago, and he wondered what exactly had brought her to him. The fact that she had come to ask for a match was pure subterfuge, he knew that.

“A pleasant evening,” said the tall fellow.

“Exceedingly pleasant,” she said. “It almost makes one feel like doing something. To dance, or go to the cinema, or something of that nature, does it not?”

Her remark threw him off balance. It sounded to him like an invitation.

“Yes,” he said, a little embarrassed. “An evening like this is an invitation to do many things.”

Her next question surprised him immensely. “Are you a detective?” the girl asked.

He turned his head quickly and looked down into her eyes, which now sparkled softly.

“What a peculiar question,” he said. “What makes you think that I am a detective?”

“I was just wondering,” she said absently. “You are so alert and intelligent. It seems as though you observe everything, and are strong.”

He smiled and continued to look at her.

“I wish you were a detective,” she said.

“To do what, exactly?” he asked.

She turned, leaned on the railing, and looked down at the sea. “It has to do with Mr. Lewis,” the girl said. “Max Lewis. That is the man you always see in my company. Immensely rich, difficult to get along with, stubborn, and perhaps a little unsafe.”

“Unsafe?” he asked. “What do you mean by that?”

She pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders. “I do not know what it is, but he seems so restless to me. So... agitated. He shares his secrets with no one, but I can see that he is not at ease on this journey. He is incredibly rich, and I wonder if he does not fear something that has to do with his wealth. The world is so wicked.”

“That is a remarkable situation,” the slender man said, glancing at her sideways. “Here we are, travelling on a large mail ship. Mr. Lewis is among a crowd of people, and you believe he needs a detective. That is rather peculiar.”

“Forgive me,” she said. “I always talk too much. I... I should be getting back.”

To his surprise, he was disappointed. “Just a moment,” he said. “May I ask who you are?”

“Most certainly,” she said with one of her delightful little smiles. “My name is Rene Baumgarten. I am also South African. I come from Johannesburg.”

“Ah, I see,” he said. “To me, it seemed as if you might be a foreigner. And... may I ask, this Mr. Lewis. What is your connection to him?”

“Secretary,” she answered simply. “I have to do everything for him, and believe me, it is not easy. He is incredibly short-tempered. He wants everything to be perfect, and he always has the impression that someone is threatening him, that someone is following him, that he will die a violent death.”

“He must be an extraordinary man,” the slender fellow said.

She stepped a little closer to him, and the cigarette smoke swirled over her delicate lips. “May I ask who you are?” said Rene Baumgarten.

“Retief... Just call me... Call me Casper Retief.”

“Why are you hiding your real name from me?” she asked with an astonishing insight that stunned him.

He smiled like a guilty boy, for he never liked to reveal his real name. His real name was too well-known and it meant too much. That was why he always tried to hide behind some imaginary name.

“Very well then,” he answered. “Everyone calls me Fabel Retief.”

She tilted her head. He could see that she was thinking. There was a sudden depth in her blue gaze, and it seemed as if she were searching for something in her memory.

“Fabel Retief,” she repeated. “What a soothing name. I believe I have heard it somewhere. Are you... are you not a famous man? Chairman of a large company or something of that nature? I have seen your name in the newspapers. I am sure of it.”

“Quite possibly,” he said. “No, I am not famous. I am just... well, I am a fruit farmer. I have a fruit farm in the Lowveld of Transvaal. There is a consignment of my fruit on board this ship, and I am travelling along to see how it is marketed. I am curious to see it, that is why I am on board.”

It was clear that she did not believe him. She was the kind of girl who could not quite hide her deepest emotions. For that, she was too sincere.

“Fabel Retief,” she said again, thoughtfully.

He just hoped and prayed that she would not discover who and what Fabel Retief really was. Because Fabel Retief was one of South Africa’s most famous former detectives. It often happened that the detective service still used him to solve crimes, but this time he had resolved to travel to Britain quietly and without any complications. He wanted to make it a holiday, and he did not want to be tied to anyone or anything.

The girl looked up at him attentively. “You say you are not a detective?”

“No, I am not,” he said firmly.

“Would you not be a part-time detective?” she asked with a kind of childlike frankness. “Will you not help me keep an eye on Mr. Lewis? I feel so... so powerless.” She shrugged her shoulders, and he saw her shudder. “I do not know what it is,” said Rene Baumgarten. “But I have the impression that something is wrong on this voyage. I have never seen Mr. Lewis like this. Something must be amiss, and I wish I knew what it was. It is as if there is a malevolence, a danger. Something that threatens us. It sometimes makes me feel so lonely and afraid. Will you not help me?”

Fabel Retief stood stock-still for a long while. Finally, he said. “If there is anything I can do, you must just say. It is very difficult for me to play the detective, you know. Mr. Lewis might take offence. I do not know him at all. I have no idea what his disposition is.”

“That can be rectified easily enough,” said Rene. “Come with me, and I will introduce you. He might brush me off...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 18.9.2025
• Übersetzer: Pieter Haasbroek, Ai
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Fantasy
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror
• ISBN-13: 9780000923004 / 9780000923004