Tedrow growled as if he did mind.
London continued, “What have you enjoyed most about your trip so far?”
“The privacy,” he said, scowling at her. “At least most of the time. And the quiet—at least when I’ve been able to get it.”
“And?”
He pointed to the high window, which was open.
“The fresh sea air,” he said.
London squinted with perplexity. She had no doubt that Mr. Tedrow knew perfectly well that the Nachtmusik was on a river tour, and that the ship hadn’t been at sea since they’d left Budapest.
Now he’s just trying to annoy me, she thought.
She was determined not to let him succeed.
“Mr. Tedrow—” she began.
“If you don’t mind, Miss Sociality, I’d like to get back to enjoying myself.”
He kept his eyes glued to the computer screen.
“Just do something about that dog, OK?” he grumbled, drumming his fingers on the table.
“OK, Mr. Tedrow,” London said, then left the room.
When she closed the door behind her, she stood in the passageway trying to process the strange visit. She remembered something he’d said.
“Don’t worry, I’m perfectly happy.”
Might he have really meant it, despite his grouchy tone? Was it possible that Mr. Tedrow really was enjoying the river tour in his own peculiar way? Maybe so, London thought, but she wondered whether he couldn’t have had just as good a time by staying home.
She quickly reminded herself of her own professional motto.
“The customer may not always be right, but the customer is always the customer.”
It surely wasn’t up to her to change Mr. Tedrow’s solitary ways. It was his choice, after all. She couldn’t exactly drag him kicking and screaming into all the entertainments, pastimes, and diversions of a luxury tour boat.
Besides, London had another pressing concern at the moment. She went back into her room, where Reggie welcomed her eagerly.
“I’ve got an idea,” she said. “You and I have an errand to run.”
As she attached a leash to his collar, she added, “I’m going to try to fix things for both of us. But you’ve got to be a perfect little gentleman, as adorable as you can possibly be. You can do that, can’t you?”
Sir Reggie let out a little yap of what sounded like agreement. She led him out into the passageway, where he trotted toward the elevator in front of her. They took the elevator back up to the open-air Rondo deck.
As soon as they stepped off the elevator, London was surprised to hear a small burst of applause. The people playing on the shuffleboard court had stopped playing and were expressing their delight at seeing Sir Reggie.
As if daunted by this warm reception, Sir Reggie jumped up into London’s arms.
“There he is—our hero!” shouted a woman.
“The fearless Sir Reggie!” exclaimed a man.
Another woman laughed. “We can all breathe easier, knowing that Sir Reggie is always here to save the day!”
As passengers started to cluster around him, poor Reggie didn’t seem to quite get what the fuss was about. But London understood. Word had gotten around the ship about Sir Reggie’s courageous behavior yesterday, and he was now rather famous aboard the Nachtmusik.
“Get used to it, kid,” she murmured to him, scratching his head. “You’re now a celebrity.”
She couldn’t help feeling amused that she herself wasn’t getting the same kind of acclaim after having solved the mystery of Mrs. Klimowski’s death.
Maybe if I was just little and cute …
But she decided it was just as well that people still seemed to still regard her as London Rose the social director, and not as London Rose the intrepid sleuth. It made her job a little easier.
Meanwhile, London took comfort in the reception Sir Reggie was getting. Whatever else might happen, he wasn’t going to get evicted from Nachtmusik. With his popularity, any attempt to get rid of him would result in a scandalous ship-wide uproar.
Also, if it turned out that she couldn’t keep Reggie in her own room, there would be other people who would be thrilled to take care of him …
London felt a sudden alarm at that idea.
No, she thought.
He’s my dog now.
He’s no one else’s.
My plan has to work, she thought. It just has to.
CHAPTER THREE
Although Sir Reggie was obviously enjoying all the attention, London knew that she needed to keep moving. The demands of her job left little time for taking care of personal issues. She had to solve this problem right now so she could stop worrying about losing her dog.
Carrying Reggie away from his fans, she headed for the ship’s glass-enclosed bridge, which towered over the Rondo deck. She climbed the steps to the bridge and knocked on the door.
As she expected, she was greeted by the portly Captain Spencer Hays, an Englishman whose walrus-style mustache couldn’t begin to hide his smile of delight at her arrival.
“Why, London Rose! What an unexpected pleasure! Come in, come in!”
London realized she’d never actually been on the Nachtmusik’s bridge before. It was an awe-inspiring sight, with the Afro-French First Officer Jean-Louis Berville overseeing the three crew members who manned a vast bank of computerized controls while overlooking the river ahead.
And as it happened, London was in for a bit of luck. The captain had another visitor—the ship’s lanky maintenance chief, Archie Behnke. The young blond mechanic was adept at fixing anything with moving parts.
Just who I need to see, she thought.
The captain’s eyes widened at the sight of Sir Reggie.
“But—good lord! What’s this? Do we have another animal aboard?”
London laughed at the captain’s confusion.
“No, this is still Sir Reggie,” she said.
“But what a transformation! Why, he scarcely looks like the same creature! What on earth has happened to him?”
Of course, Captain Hays had seen Sir Reginald Taft only one other time, and that was back when the little dog’s hair had been long enough to drag on the ground. He’d looked to her like a weird wig with eyes and a little black nose. London thought that such glamour might have been appropriate for a former show dog, but she hadn’t liked it much, and even Reggie had never seemed especially comfortable that way. After his near-drowning, London had taken him to the Nachtmusik’s beautician for a shampoo and a serious do-over.
“We’ve given him a new look,” London explained to the captain. “It’s called a ‘puppy cut.’”
“Jolly good!” Captain Hays said. “It suits him well.”
“Now he looks just like one of the crew,” Archie Behnke added.
London laughed, then carefully broached the subject she’d come to discuss.
“I’ve been keeping him in my room,” she said. “But it’s not working out very well.”
“No?” the captain said.
“I can’t spend every minute with him,” London said. “And he doesn’t like being shut up alone.”
“Of course he doesn’t,” Captain Hays said with a stern nod. “He’d rather be out and about tracking down international jewel thieves. And it’s a waste of his talents as far as the rest of us are concerned. He’s got important work to do here on the Nachtmusik. We can’t do without him.”