that
this is the holiday of a lifetime.
“The truth is resolutely ignored and if anyone attempts to
face facts, he or she is simply smiled into submission. Because the truth is,
this is a sparkling, shiny, hugely expensive, floating rat run. You are given
the impression of free will and endless choices, but in reality, you are
shuffled from one activity to the next and gently parted from your cash at
every opportunity while the message is continually reinforced: you are having
such a marvellous time! In exchange for your spending money, you bank images
and anecdotes as currency to distribute on your return home as hard proof that
it was indeed the holiday of a lifetime."
Beatrice stared at him, speechless.
He smiled. "And you know the saddest thing of all? Many
people come back. They like the fact that it's a glorified old people's home
with guaranteed good weather. They are completely content with having no real
decisions to make. They actually believe the hype and fork out another chunk of
their savings to collect another set of photographs, dine with another group of
strangers and buy another load of overpriced junk to foist on friends and
family.
"Now, you asked about crowd mentality. I've just
explained how it usually works. A group delusion keeps us all happy, within our
closed community. As long as we all play the game. But closed communities share
the same flaw. Just like sickness spreads through the ship faster than gossip,
so does discontent. People do not want to be reminded of reality while they're
living the dream. And there is no starker reminder of the fragile and temporal
nature of our dream than dying. When the average passenger age is over sixty,
the spectre of mortality casts a still-longer shadow.”
Reflections of sun on water played a blithe denial of
Jensson's words across the ceiling. The whiteness, the golden light, the
sanitised perfection of their environment... Beatrice could understand the
importance of upholding that mythology of the moment.
"So when a person dies, you try to keep it quiet rather
than upset the apple tart?"
"We try to minimise disruption for everyone on board.
For friends and family, we offer free transfers home and assist with
transportation of the deceased. Dr Fraser is a registered coroner and we have a
ship’s morgue, so if an incident should happen at sea, we can begin the process
of formalising the death certificate. It is in everyone's interests to try to
isolate the distress and grief of those affected. With heart attacks, strokes
or simply passing away in their sleep, that's relatively uncomplicated. Beryl
Hodges was one of the latter. Not only that, but it was early into our voyage,
and one of the easier ones to manage. However, Esther Crawford's fall set the
passengers on edge, even more so when the rumours of homicide came to light.
This is why I'm so keen for you to close the case quickly. This kind of
atmosphere can poison an entire cruise."
"I appreciate that, Captain, but I am extremely
surprised you didn't mention the previous lady's demise to me or Inspector
Stephanakis. You say she died in her sleep?"
"Yes. Fraser may have a complicated name for it, but as
far as I know, she just stopped breathing. I know nothing of her medical
history, but I recorded her death as 'natural causes'. I myself hope for such a
calm departure from this life. People fear change. And there is no change
greater than death."
Jensson's melancholic world-view began to drag on Beatrice's
mood. "I’ll look for Dr Fraser now and get the facts. You mentioned
accommodation, Captain. There's no need, as I have a hotel in Heraklion."
"Yes, that will be convenient as the Empress Louise is sailing to Crete tonight. Generally, we only stay one or two nights in each
port, and our delay in Santorini has forced a schedule rearrangement. My
question was whether you would like to dine aboard as my guest and sail with us
this evening. We have fully equipped guest rooms."
It was tempting.