Death [and Apple Strudel] (A European Voyage #2) - Blake Pierce Page 0,2

door, and since Mrs. Klimowski died, there’s no one else to take care of the dog.”

“Somebody died?” Tedrow said with surprise.

London was startled. Had the man been so isolated here in his room that he had no idea what had happened during the last few days? Hadn’t he even read the letter she’d written to inform the passengers Mrs. Klimowski’s death—the one she’d put in all the passengers’ mailboxes?

Apparently not, she realized.

And he didn’t seem to be at all curious about it, either.

“Well, it’s none of my business, I suppose,” he said with a shrug. “What matters right now is that you do something about that dog.”

“Mr. Tedrow, Sir Reggie’s just a little dog. Is he really too noisy for you? Once he gets used to things, surely he won’t complain so much. I’ll bring you over and introduce him to you. I’m sure you’ll like him.”

“I need peace and quiet,” Tedrow insisted. “What is he barking about anyway?”

“He likes human company. And he likes to run around. But I can’t take him wherever I go. I have to leave him in my room sometimes.”

“Why?”

London was startled by the question’s abruptness.

“Can you blame him for not wanting to be shut up like that?” Tedrow added. “Why don’t you just give him the run of the ship?”

London was about to explain about how Sir Reggie needed access to the food and dog potty when she suddenly wondered something.

Why not give him the run of the ship?

Maybe there was actually a way she could do that.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said.

“You do that,” Tedrow said. “As long as the dog shuts up, I’ll be happy. I don’t care who lives next door.”

He sat down at an out-of-date-looking computer on his table, apparently anxious to get back to work at something.

London took a look around at the room. Like most of the other staterooms on the Allegro deck, this one was almost identical to hers.

It was hardly as luxurious and spacious as the rooms on the upper levels, but it was much, much nicer than the cramped, windowless quarters she’d shared with other employees while working as a hostess on oceangoing cruise ships. While hers was pleasantly decorated in shades of soft gray and blue, Mr. Tedrow’s room décor was a range of earth tones. His little table was mostly taken up by the computer and a small printer, and a few books were scattered on his queen-size bed.

It was a perfectly nice room. But she was worried by the solitude of its occupant.

“Um, Mr. Tedrow—is everything else OK? Aside from my dog, I mean?”

“Why do you ask?” he asked without looking away from the computer screen.

London swallowed uncomfortably.

“Well, as the ship’s social director, it’s my duty to make sure that everybody aboard the Nachtmusik is perfectly happy.”

“Don’t worry, I’m perfectly happy,” Tedrow growled. “Or at least I will be after you do something about that dog.”

London peered at him curiously as he kept staring at the computer screen.

He sure doesn’t sound perfectly happy, she thought.

She figured it was her job to draw him out, get him to talk to her a little.

“What did you think of Gyor?” she asked.

“Why, did we stop there?”

London’s eyes widened with surprise.

“Yes, we did,” she said. “We just left there last night.”

“Well, I knew the ship has been sitting still most of the time since we left Budapest, but I’d sort of forgotten all about the itinerary. I don’t much care about it, if you want to know the truth.”

What do you care about? London wondered.

She tried to hide her worry behind her best professional smile.

“I hope you’ve at least enjoyed some of the amenities aboard the Nachtmusik.”

“Amenities?” he asked, as if he didn’t understand the word.

“You know—features, luxuries, activities.”

“Such as?”

London peered at him with growing concern—and growing curiosity.

“Well, surely you’ve checked out the Habsburg Restaurant up on the Romanze deck. Or the swimming pool and outdoor activities up on the Rondo deck. Or the Amadeus Lounge on the Menuetto deck. You know, we’ve been adding some casino features to the lounge—”

“Sorry, not interested,” Tedrow said with a dismissive wave of his hand, still staring at his computer screen.

London was baffled. Surely Mr. Tedrow had explored the ship at least once since the beginning of the journey. But since then …

Has he been outside this room at all?

She noticed a tray of mostly eaten breakfast also on the table where he worked. Perhaps he’d had all his meals delivered here since they’d left Bucharest. It