Private Dic

Of course, these characters are fictitious. Any resemblance between living people and the characters presented are truly coincidental. Except for the Captain. I resemble the captain. In my mind... Please read on and leave a comment and a vote would be most appreciated!

PMDlite

Private Dick (A Nude Day Tale)

The phone jangled on my desk. Yes, I had an antiquated land line, something I just couldn't get rid of. I liked the feel of it. Nostalgic, I guess. But the second ring jarred me back from my momentary musing of times gone by.

"Johnson Investigations. Tom Johnson speaking." I answered wondering if my car warranty had expired or if I was going to be offered an amazing insurance deal.

"Hi Tom. Chief Spencer here. I may have a job for you, how about I swing by your office in an hour to discuss it." He sounded serious, so I knew this was something he wanted off the books.

"Let me check my schedule. I have a minor thing I can reschedule, so yes. In an hour works just fine. Then you can buy me lunch." I hung up and looked at the blank calendar on my desk. Another item of days gone by, a paper calendar. Empty for today except for what I was about to write in. I set about cleaning up a little of the clutter in my office and sat back to see what the Chief wanted.

-0-

An hour passed, and right on cue there was a knock at the door. "It's open, c'mon in." I rose to greet my guest. "I've got a fresh pot of coffee on, want a cup?"

The large man entered the office. It almost seemed like he should have ducked slightly to get through the door. He did fill the frame. As expected, it was Chief Spencer. "Sure, I'll have a cup. Shitty coffee always makes me get right to the point, and as I recall yours is about the worst I have had."

"Gee thanks. I won't ask you for a Yelp review." I poured him a cup and one for myself. We sat across from each other at my desk. "Okay, so what brings you here. I'm more used to being summoned to your place. Why are you slumming?" I took a sip. His review of my coffee wasn't wrong, but I still drank it.

"Discretion. You could sum my visit here up in that one word. The situation I have is something I can't readily assign to any of my detectives 'officially'. There are jurisdiction issues as well as... well...personal issues that require a less than public eye on this case until there is more information. You catch my drift?" Funny. The big man looked like a schoolboy who had been caught cheating and was asking not to have his parents told.

"I get it. Someone rich or well-connected got caught with his...or her...pants down and if you look at it, it gets messy in the papers. Or rather on TMZ, the internet or social media. No one reads papers anymore." I glanced at the stack of newspapers on my desk. Almost no one reads them, I thought. "How close am I?"

"As usual, close enough. But it goes beyond that it involves murder, a cruise ship and..." He paused. "Nudity." He seemed uncomfortable saying the last word.

"Well, you have my interest. And as you know, if a case doesn't interest me, I won't take it. Money isn't my motivation, but a good mystery and especially something with a lascivious nature will get my attention. Murder you say? On a cruise? When do I leave? I think I have sunscreen and shorts already packed." My coffee had cooled enough to take a larger gulp of the brown liquid. A cruise fit into my schedule just fine.

The Chief continued. "Add more sunscreen and lose the shorts. It's a nude cruise. No clothes allowed." He looked at me to gauge my reaction. "Coed. Male and female, gay and straight. This cruise catered to all, um, interests. It's their annual Nude Day event." Clearly the Chief liked discussing crime better than sex, or at least was more comfortable talking about dead, dismembered or injured bodies than naked ones. I wasn't about to let him get comfortable.

"Who is the dead nudist? And shouldn't the cruise line or Interpol be investigating this? Not trying to talk myself out of a job, but this seems more of their affair than yours." It was my turn to watch for his reaction.

"Again, you are on the right path. The city can't have much 'official' connection since it didn't happen here, but it does involve a prominent resident. Charles Everson ring a bell? Most people have no idea who he is, but he has money and a finger in most anything that happens in the city. If you look up 'Anonymous Donor' in the dictionary, his face will most likely show up. He has paid for civic improvements, charitable activities as well as funding many political campaigns. On both sides of the political fence. But he keeps a low profile. Kept, I guess you would say now. And there are some who would like that kept that way." The Chief took a pull on the coffee and grimaced. "Still tastes like shit."

I ignored his comment. "I take it you are one of those who want that profile kept on the downlow? That, of course, is my specialty. Consider it the equivalent of 'client/lawyer confidentiality'. A couple of questions jump to mind; How much did he fund you and what happens now that this source of funds dries up?" He had me. My mind was whirring and my interest was piqued by this case. Murder and naked tits? Yes, please.

-0-

We discussed a few more details. He had gotten some donations from Everson, but nothing significant. It was too soon to say what would happen with Everson's money now that he was dead. No wife, no children, hopefully he had left some instructions about where his estate would go. But that was for the legal teams to decide. My role was simpler. Find who killed him.

Once the Chief left, I gathered a few things together, went home and packed a few items. I included my pistol as I usually did and secured it for the trip to the port where the cruise ship was docked. And I was off for a naked cruise. A first for me. And yes, I did pack extra sunscreen.

-0-

The ship was docked and preparing to put out to sea for the remainder of the voyage to nowhere. A few stops like this one were made so the crew could take on provisions, change a few of the mechanics and servicing. The passengers were restricted to the ship, this time it was strictly enforced due to the unusual circumstances. I learned that only a handful of passengers had even asked about going ashore, most were happy to stay nude and on board. As long as the alcohol held out, I imagined they would happily stay on the ship.

The customs inspector or guard or whatever he was called me over. "Mr. Johnson, there appears to be a weapon in your bag. Firearms are not permitted aboard this vessel." He seemed to be informing me as if I should be surprised that there was a gun in my bag.

"It's legal, I assure you. My permits are with the locked case, would you care to check them?" I moved to the bag.

"No, there are no exceptions. Even Interpol agents must surrender their firearms before boarding. It will be returned to you at the end of the cruise. The line guarantees it. Besides, there will be no occasion to need it." He took the locked carry box from my bag and placed it in his cabinet and locked it with a flourish for my benefit. "You may go up the ramp. You will find a changing room there where you can disrobe. An attendant will show you to your room."

And with that, I left the last clothed person I was to see for the next several days.

-0-

The changing "room" was really just modesty screens set up with a bench and a canvas bag to contain my clothes. "Well, here goes nothing." I quietly said to myself. Actually, getting naked to participate with other naked people had sounded a lot better back in my office. But duty called. A sign on the curtain indicated I could press a button for the attendant when I was ready, so I did.

"Mr. Johnson?" A sweet feminine voice called from the other side. "If you are ready, just come through the screening and I will show you to your accommodations. I will apologize in advance, they are rather, um, Spartan. This is a sold-out cruise."

I stepped through the curtained area and saw my "attendant". She looked just as she sounded, sweet. I was happy to see that she was not a perky, buff 18-year-old, but a thirty something with curves. I did my best to maintain professional eye contact, but did notice nicely shaped breasts with pink nipples and a neatly trimmed patch of blonde hair that indicated that it was indeed her natural hair color. "I appreciate having any space at all. I doubt that I will spend much time in the room since I am here to investigate, not for pleasure. Will you be briefing me about the case? Or is there someone else?"

"I have a few details which I will gladly share with you, but my role is mostly in hospitality. I try to make the guest's experience a positive one, anticipating their needs. Our ship's doctor, Dr. Sandhu will make himself available for details as will Mr. Arnold, our chief of security. I will tell you what I know when we get to your room. Follow me. My name is Breanna, but just call me Bree."

I gladly followed Bree. I carried my bag and watched the movement of her butt cheeks as we walked into the hallway toward an interior elevator. Clearly, she walked a lot and worked out some. Her legs were toned and that firmness extended to her gluteus which flexed with each step. I was starting to like this cruise, although this was only the first person I had seen on board. I felt a stirring and decided I had better change what I looked at and think of some other topic. I shifted the bag to cover myself and my 'half-mast' as we arrived at the elevator.

As the doors closed, Bree pressed the button for a lower floor. Or rather, deck. I had to remind myself we were on a ship. "First time at a nude event?"

"Is it that obvious? But yes, unless you count my draft physical with a few hundred other eighteen year old draftees way back in the day." I tried to be a little less self-conscious. "Not my first cruise. But they mentioned this is a cruise for Nude Day? Now that I am not familiar with."

Bree turned to face me. I felt a little stirring once again. "Nude Day has been around for a while, it is officially on July 14. It is ostensibly to celebrate the freedom found without clothing, but also celebrates the human body. You can look it up, it is an international event." The doors opened and she motioned me out.

"Ladies first, Bree. Besides, I have no idea which way to go." And I wouldn't mind another peek at her backside, I mentally commented to myself. So where is everybody? I expected to see more people on our trek to my room."

"Oh, they are here. It is overcast, so many folks are either in their rooms or in the bars. There is also a theater where we have entertainment, from movies to magic shows, plays, readings, all sorts of things. And, of course the bar is open. Here we are." Bree paused at a door at the end of the hallway. "There are no keys, we have a keypad where you enter a six number code of your choice. I enter the master code and you enter your code which will remain the entry code for your stay. No place to put your key, anyway!" She punched the buttons on the door and the door opened. "Mr. Johnson? Enter your code. I won't be looking."

I dutifully entered a six digit code. Nothing too exotic, but a step above 123456. I used the name of my favorite football team with the letters 'digitized' as it would be on a phone keypad. Easy enough to remember. "Okay. Care to come in and fill me in on the untimely demise of your guest?" I extended my hand beckoning her in. Her description of the room as Spartan was correct. A single bed, more like a cot, a single chair filled the main room. A bathroom and closet was immediately as we entered. It was fine, especially for the price of, well, nothing.

Bree walked into the room and sat in the chair. I set my bag in the closet and moved to the bed. I noticed that my luggage had been delivered to the room. That was good because I had the file of background information on Charles Everson in there. I needed to do a bit of homework before we really got going on the case, but I could start by hearing what she knew about the circumstances. It seemed odd not to have my pistol with me. Not that I had ever needed it. I almost said I felt naked without it, but then I reconsidered. I was naked. And so was the person I needed to find out more of the details about the case. I knew I was rambling in my own head, so I decided to get on with things. "Okay. I have a pad for notes in my bag, so why don't you tell me what happened. All I really know is that Mr. Everson is dead. Happened on this ship, and everyone is here for Naked Day." Bree had exquisite blue eyes as well as the aforementioned nicely formed breasts.

She tossed her blonde hair a little. "Well, I don't have much to tell. We have a small to moderate rating for the ship, meaning that we have about 1,500 passengers and 400 crew, staff and entertainers. I met Mr. Everson a couple of times, as he embarked and once when he had a few questions. We left port on July 12, and he was found dead outside his stateroom July 13, yesterday. It appeared to be a single gunshot wound to the back of his head, but the doctor can be more precise. I just know there was a lot of blood and a hole at the base of his head. We took pictures of the scene, but we were out at sea, beyond the 3 mile limit, so international waters. Once we took the pictures, we cleaned up the hallway and took the body to our infirmary. Like most ships of this size, we do have a cool space in the medical facility that doubles as a morgue if needed. The rest of the time it stores medicines that have to be cooled and occasionally extra food. We don't really let that get around, so please don't mention it." Bree seemed to have started rambling like I had been. "That is really the extent of my involvement in this whole thing. Are we about done? I need to go start a couple of activities in the lounge. Naked Bingo. Feel free to join us!"

"Just a couple questions, it won't be long. And I might see about that Bingo game. Could be fun. What questions did Everson have when you talked with him. Anything in particular?"

Bree glanced to the side, trying to recall the conversation. "He was very straightforward, several simple and seemingly disjointed questions. He wanted to know another passengers name and which stateroom they were in, where we had computer access and almost as an afterthought, where he could get condoms. I told him that we couldn't provide personal information, that there was a public computer in the writing lounge and that condoms could be obtained in the gift shop or ordered via room service. He seemed satisfied with the last two questions and left. That was the last I saw of him. Alive." She looked down almost as if she was saying a small prayer.

"Thanks Bree. It has been a pleasure meeting with you and I will let you know if I need anything further. I do hope we run into each other more during the cruise, and not for business." I really meant the last part. She had a way of making being naked seem natural. "The last thing I need is to go to the infirmary. I think Dr. Sandhu is next on my list."

"Certainly" Bree said as she rose. "I will take you there, it is on my way to the lounge." We left my room and proceeded to the elevator. "It is just a few decks above you. I will be going up another to the lounge." A whistle blew as we entered the elevator. "That is the signal for our getting underway. Thanks to your promptness, we haven't aroused any suspicion by delaying our departure. Good luck with your investigation."

She pressed two buttons, one for the infirmary and spa level and one for the lounge deck, our respective destinations. As we started up the ship lurched slightly and caught me between steps. I stumbled slightly and accidentally grazed Brees' torso. My arm brushed against her breast and my hand managed to reach out right for one of the firm butt cheeks I had noticed. All I could manage was "I'm SO sorry, I stumbled." Clever. I quickly righted myself and had a sheepish look, I was sure.

"It takes a while to get one's sea legs, Mr. Johnson. No harm done." Bree shrugged it off like it was nothing, and it had been a real accident. But I detected a slight flushing of her cheeks...her facial cheeks. She blushed.

The doors opened for my destination. "Thank you, Bree, and it is Tom. No need to be so formal. See you soon." I didn't need to ask where to go, there was ample signage to guide me to Doctor Sandhu's office. The door was closed, so I knocked and tried the handle. It turned, so I eased the door open. A distinguished man of Indian origin and indeterminate age appeared and greeted me.

"Hello. May I be of assistance? I am Dr. Sandhu. What brings you to the infirmary today, Mister..."

"Johnson. Tom Johnson. I'm a private detective investigating the murder of your passenger, Mr. Everson. I would show you my credentials, but I am, as you see, not carrying them at the moment." I had forgotten to grab any identification when I left my room. It occurred to me that I might also want to verify the doctor. Not that I didn't trust him, but as a former president once said "Trust, but verify.". "I can bring my ID to you if you want, and if I may ask, do you have your credentials handy?"

"No need for you to go back for your identification. It is in our database. Each passenger is photographed as they come aboard. I have yours right here." He turned a monitor and I stared back from the screen. Or rather a photo that rivaled most DMV photos I have had taken. :As for mine, Look to your right."

On the wall was a photo of the man standing before me with his credentials listed. A studio style portrait in a uniform with a caduceus at the collar. Besides the M.D. there was also a Ph.D and USN. Proof enough for me.

"Thank you for your service, Doctor. I didn't mean to imply anything by asking for verification. I guess you could call it an occupational hazard."

"Nothing to worry about. You just verified to me that you are an investigator of some merit. You don't make assumptions. Shall we proceed?" He moved to the door and locked it. "No need to be interrupted right now. I'm not expecting any visits, but... Can never be too certain." He turned and moved to an interior room.

The room looked like it could serve a variety of uses, an examining table, a bright overhead lamp to use for small surgeries, shelves stocked with a variety of medicines and bandages and other devices. Also a stainless steel door with a handle that reminded me of a walk in freezer from a restaurant. "Is that the morgue?" I pointed at the door.

"Exactly right." replied the doctor. "I will bring the patient...his body...out and describe what we have determined. Mind you, I am not a medical examiner nor a coroner. There has been no autopsy, but I have done a cursory examination." He opened the door and slid out a metal tray which held a body, face down, covered by a sheet.

"I was told there was a hole at the base of the skull, and massive blood loss. Gunshot wound?" I would never get used to seeing a dead body, but I was surprised how used I was to seeing naked ones. I had almost forgotten that the doctor was in the buff.

"You would think so from an initial observation. It would be consistent with a .32 caliber gunshot, larger than a .22 and smaller than a .38. Definitely not the work of a 9mm." He turned to me with a serious look. "Here's the thing. I probed the wound, there is no exit wound, only the entrance. I found no bullet. I x-rayed the head, nothing showed."

My mind started racing. I had heard of similar occurrences, one being an as yet unproven theory of a frangible or dissolvable bullet. Unlikely. "Are there any powder burns or residue near the wound? I don't see any, but I am not an expert. And how much force would it take to cause that wound with a metal rod...like a round sword?"