Despite the late hour she'd turned in, Myrtle set an alarm to get up extremely early. It was the day they were going through Glacier Bay and she'd heard that you had to be up and about early to get a decent window seat on the ship.

She was sure that Miles would also want a good seat so she tapped on his stateroom door. And tapped again. A few minutes later, quite a few minutes, a bleary-eyed Miles opened the door.

"Sleeping?" asked Myrtle, surprised. "What about the glaciers?"

Miles disappeared for a moment and returned to thrust a jacket at Myrtle.

"What's this for?" Myrtle demanded.

"It's my stand-in," said Miles.

"You want me to reserve you a seat with your jacket? That's hardly fair, is it?" asked Myrtle.

"I think it's only unfair when one is reserving three or more," said Miles. "Fewer than three is completely fair and even desirable. Especially when one is trying to catch up on sleep."

"Is your stand-in any good at investigating murder?" asked Myrtle.

But Miles was already stumbling back into his room.

Myrtle grumbled under her breath. Then she quickly smiled as she spotted their cabin steward. Perhaps he was also Celeste's steward and had seen something unusual last night.

"Arvin?" she asked.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully as he carefully placed a list of daily activities in the slot beside each cabin door. "Need some help?"

"I do, yes. I suppose you know about the tragedy that happened last night," said Myrtle briskly.

But the mention of the tragedy seemed to make Arvin very uncomfortable. He looked away and his bright smile faded a little. "Not much. I don't know much about that," he said. A wrinkle of concern lined his forehead.

It appeared the ship was already in the process of ensuring there was no bad publicity resulting from Celeste's death. How tiresome. "You don't really have to know much about it, Arvin, I only want to know if you saw or heard anything unusual last night."

Now he did look her directly in the eye. "Nothing. I saw nothing, madam. I knock on the door to turn down the bed and the lady tells me not now."

Myrtle said, "So you were the steward for the lady who died?"

Arvin appeared very uncomfortable again at the mention of death, but nodded. "I was the steward for her, yes. And I saw and heard nothing."

"All right. Thank you, Arvin," said Myrtle, disappointed.

"Okay to clean, madam?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, certainly. I'll be out for a while," said Myrtle.

Myrtle proceeded to the upper level which housed a library, a bar, a coffee and croissant counter, and quite a few comfortable seats. The entire floor was lined with windows and Myrtle appeared to have the pick of them all. The only other person up there, besides staff, was a bespectacled man with a neatly trimmed goatee who was hunched over a newspaper.

Myrtle put her cardigan and Miles's jacket on two seats with good views and then curiously walked up to the man with the newspaper. He glanced up at her but didn't acknowledge her before continuing his work on the crossword puzzle in front of him. He certainly seemed to fit the description of Terrell.

Myrtle cleared her throat, and this time Terrell sat up straighter and looked her in the eye.

"Excuse me," she said, "but, are you Terrell?"

He sighed as if being Terrell was actually a tremendous burden he bore. "I'm afraid so. What's wrong?"

"Wrong? Oh ... for me? Nothing is wrong. Why would you think so?" asked Myrtle.

"Only because whenever anyone on a trip has an ingrown toenail or an abdominal pain of any description, my dear mother instructs them to find me. Since I'm a physician," said Terrell.

Myrtle said, "No. Nothing is wrong with me. But ... your mother ... I suppose the staff found you last night? I was helping the crew inform the family."

Terrell pressed his lips into a thin line. "Are you trying to ask whether I know my mother has passed on into the hereafter? I'm aware, yes."

Myrtle just stared at him. Surely he should at least pretend he was sad about the death of his mother? At least to a perfect stranger.

He sighed. "I suppose you think that I ought to be exhibiting more grief at her demise. I can only say that, as a physician, I'm rather inured to death. Death happens a lot and it's quite natural."

"Maybe that's true," said Myrtle. "But nothing about this death was natural."

"Still. She was an old woman," said Terrell.

"Who was looking forward to seeing Glacier Bay today!" said Myrtle sharply. "Which apparently you couldn't possibly care less about seeing as how you've buried yourself in a crossword puzzle as we go past a national treasure."

Terrell shrugged. "We have eight hours of icy fjords. I'm sure I'll catch a glimpse."

"Is this where you were last night, too?" asked Myrtle.

"Last night, not being able to abide everyone's excitement at being on film, I turned in early. So I was in my room whenever the excitement began," said Terrell.

"Alone?" asked Myrtle.

"I'm unaccompanied on this trip," said Terrell coolly.

Myrtle frowned. "But I understood that none of the family were available in their rooms when the crew tried to alert them."

"I'm a hard sleeper. Eventually, I did wake up. You can ask the crew—I wasn't rounded up from any far-flung parts of the ship. I was in my room."

His room was likely very close to his mother's too, since she would have done all the ticket purchasing at once, presumably. It would have been very easy for him to slip back unnoticed after murdering her. "Have you any idea who might have done something like this?"

Terrell was already becoming absorbed in his crossword puzzle again. "Everyone. She wasn't exactly beloved."

"That's rather facetious," said Myrtle in a scolding tone. "Surely someone in your party showed some signs that they were at a breaking point with your mother. A clue of some sort."

Terrell stared at her. "Who are you, Miss Marple or something?"

"Don't be silly. I'm far older than Miss Marple," snapped Myrtle.

Terrell looked at her with something approaching respect. Then he reflected for a couple of moments. "I would say that Randolph is the most likely candidate as the killer, then. If I had to pick and choose."

"Really?" asked Myrtle, raising her eyebrows.

"It was my pick, remember? And he's my pick. You doubt his capability?" asked Terrell.

"Frankly? Yes. Although I recognize that I might be prejudiced by the fact that I've only seen him roaring drunk. On the occasions that I've interacted with Randolph, I think it more likely that your mother would have picked him up and thrown him off the verandah," said Myrtle. "What makes you think he could have done it?"

Terrell said idly, while gazing at the puzzle, "Several things. For one, I'm not sure he's always drunk. I'm fairly certain that sometimes he's taking everything in and his intoxication is a handy façade. Besides that, he believed he was going to inherit my mother's estate."

"And this estate ... is significant?" asked Myrtle. Despite what Celeste's friend Bettina said, Myrtle was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Celeste, who didn't look as if she had two dimes to rub together, was wealthy.

"Yes. Randolph is a leech. He believed he'd inherit Mother's fortune, got tired of waiting for her to expire naturally, and decided to speed things up a little bit," said Terrell.

Myrtle said in a somewhat smug voice, "By the way, I found your mother's will. She'd cleverly hidden it away, but I was able to discover it."

"So I have you to blame," said Terrell, giving her an increasingly annoyed look.

Myrtle decided to move on since Terrell didn't appear to be in the mood to compliment her sleuthing skills. "Speaking of Randolph, what exactly does he do?"

"He does nothing," said Terrell emphatically.

"What would he be doing if he weren't leeching off your mother, then?" asked Myrtle.

"He's allegedly an engineer," said Terrell. "Although I haven't seen evidence of the kind of intellect necessary to become one."

"So you believe that he had a financial motive for murder. Although the will changed," said Myrtle. "And he was cut out of it."

"Weren't we all?" said Terrell dryly.

"You've seen the will?" asked Myrtle. Considering it was pinned on the inside of a dress, this seemed extremely unlikely.

"I'm merely assuming. Mother was always threatening me with writing me out of the will. I'm expecting that if she actually decided to make another document, she went through with it. When she became serious about something, she wasn't the kind of person to issue idle threats," said Terrell. He glanced around. "If you care about the glaciers as much as it seems you do, you should likely defend your territory."

It was definitely filling up. Myrtle stood up. She studied Terrell's puzzle through narrowed eyes. There was one that was quite obviously left blank in the middle of the crossword. "Your answer there is erato," she said briskly, giving the evil eye to a passenger who appeared to be encroaching on her chosen seats.

"Pardon?" asked Terrell.

"For the clue sister of Clio," said Myrtle impatiently.

"Yes, of course," said Terrell. "I just hadn't gotten to that one yet."

As Myrtle hurried away to her seat, she smiled grimly to herself. Terrell wasn't as smart as he thought himself to be. She could tell he was a very methodical puzzler and had skipped that clue because he didn't know it. Erato was a very common answer in puzzles—known as a repeater. If Terrell could lie about his crosswords, he could lie about anything. And despite his superior attitude, Myrtle knew she could outwit him.

Ten minutes later, a grouchy-looking Miles sat next to her with a large coffee.

"Oh good, you're up," said Myrtle.

Miles's eyes were at half-mast. He tried to drink the coffee but winced and carefully removed the lid to let it cool a bit. "Any news?" he croaked.

"News? You mean besides the fact that Terrell is not the smarty pants he thinks he is?" said Myrtle, chortling.

Miles gazed levelly at her. "I have no idea what that means or why it's important. Who is Terrell again?"

"Celeste's son. He's a physician and definitely not a fan of his late mother's. We need to discover why," said Myrtle in a musing tone.

"Can't we just ask him?" asked Miles. He tried to take another sip from his coffee and his eyes opened wide with alarm at its temperature. Surreptitiously, he redeposited the sip back into the cup.

"Not recommended. He's hardly the most forthcoming person I've ever met. No, I think we need to ask somebody else. Bettina seemed pretty gossipy. Maybe we can also work to get Randolph's opinion of his stepson," said Myrtle.

"How do you propose we do that? Randolph is three sheets to the wind most of the time," said Miles.

"Or is he? I've gotten the impression from my own observations and from what Terrell told me that Randolph may be taking in a lot more than he's letting on. That he might be faking some of the drunkenness. But I was thinking that maybe you could talk with Randolph again. He might let his guard down with you. He's retired, just like you are. Even though he's a retired engineer, you should still have a lot in common to talk about. Business is business, after all. Engineering and insurance work couldn't be that far apart." Myrtle craned her neck as someone nearby excitedly said they'd seen a whale breach.

Miles stared coldly at her.

"For heaven's sake, Miles, whatever is wrong? I don't have the time to tiptoe around your delicate ego," said Myrtle.

"Insurance has nothing to do with engineering," said Miles.

"If you say so," said Myrtle with a shrug.

"Although fortunately, that doesn't matter, since I was an engineer," said Miles.

"Were you?" asked Myrtle vaguely. She glanced over at Miles and sighed. "Grinding your teeth is bad for you, you know."

Miles pressed his lips closed as if preventing words from recklessly flying out.

Suddenly a small body launched itself at Myrtle's legs. "Jack!" she said in delight. "You're awake."

"Ohhh yes," said Elaine dryly. "He's awake all right. Has been for a while now. At this rate, though, he'll peter out for a nice afternoon nap."

Myrtle stood up and gingerly picked up Jack to let him stand on her seat. "See that, Jack? Look on the rocks there. Those white specks are mountain goats!"

"Are they?" asked Elaine.

"According to the people yelling on the other side of the lounge, they are," said Myrtle. "And you might just get to see a humpback whale that's been following alongside the ship."

Jack jumped up and down on the seat and Elaine quickly removed him and held his hand tightly. "Jack and I are going to get a nice breakfast. Preferably one with no sugar in it whatsoever."

Miles smiled and took another cautious sip of his coffee. He winced again.

"Were you able to get any sleep last night, what with Red being out late and Jack getting up early?" asked Myrtle.

Elaine shrugged. "Here and there I slept. Jack and I will both probably turn in early tonight. Red might, too. Out late and up early."

Myrtle frowned. "I haven't seen Red yet. Has he even gotten his breakfast?"

"That I don't know. I saw him out on the bow of the ship talking to one of the family or someone," said Elaine.

Miles said, "Can you describe her?"

"Attractive older woman sporting a tan and wearing lots of colorful jewelry," said Elaine.

"Bettina," chorused Myrtle and Miles.

Jack started jogging away from them and Elaine heaved a sigh. "See you later," she called behind her.

Myrtle said, "Now we have a mission."

"Have we?" asked Miles dubiously.

"We can talk to Bettina out on the bow," said Myrtle, gathering up her sweater.

"Won't it be very cold?" asked Miles. "And won't we lose the seats that you saved for us?"

"It's not supposed to be so bad out there. Besides, we will get a much better view from the bow. Unobstructed."

Miles still seemed wishy-washy and Myrtle quickly added, "We can leave the sweater and your coat here. No one will want them. We won't be long. And it will be the perfect opportunity to finally cool off your coffee once and for all. What on earth did they pour into that cup? Scalding water?"

Miles sighed, but as if realizing there was no point in trying to argue, he carefully arranged his jacket on the chair, held tightly to his coffee cup, and followed Myrtle.

It was, in fact, not nearly as cold outside as you might think Glacier Bay should be. But it was chilly enough to need a light jacket or sweater. Myrtle frowned as they walked onto the bow of the ship. "Wee bit nippy," she said absently.

Miles rolled his eyes.

Bettina was easy to spot. As usual, she was dressed nicely and wearing full makeup and jewelry. When she spotted Myrtle, she gave a small wave and then gave Miles a spontaneous hug that startled him, nearly making him drop his coffee cup.

"Isn't this amazing?" Bettina demanded. "Every once in a while a large piece drops off with a tremendous splash in the water. Spectacular."

Myrtle noticed that Bettina didn't lead with talking about Celeste. But then, as far as Bettina knew, Myrtle knew nothing about the incident.

"It's certainly amazing. There was quite a bit of excitement in the lounge over humpback whale spottings, too. Although the people in the lounge also get excited over moose and we see moose all the time," said Myrtle.

"Did you have fun last night?" asked Bettina abruptly.

Myrtle and Miles glanced at each other. Myrtle suspected she wasn't referring to their body discovering and family notifying activities, but to the filming that Bettina had been so excited about during the bridge game.

Myrtle said, "The filming? It was fun at first. And it was especially fun to see the actors in between scenes—when they were just real people. But it got somewhat tedious after a while and we left."

Bettina nodded. "I know just what you mean, although I did decide to stay for the whole thing. I wasn't ready to turn in yet and stayed because there was no other real entertainment that I was interested in. I thought Samuel Kingston did a nice job with his part, but I really think he does a better job when he's acting for Tomorrow's Promise. Maybe he needs to stick with soaps."

Miles, who had become quite a fan of the soap, agreed. "He was in over his head with this role." He took a hesitant sip of his coffee and then a large gulp. It had finally, and dramatically, cooled off.

Myrtle said, "I think our early departure from the filming was why we found out about the tragic death of your friend."

Bettina blinked at Myrtle in surprise.

Myrtle continued, "So after you finished being an extra, is that when the ship's crew notified you about Celeste?"

Bettina nodded. "I didn't think you knew and I hated having a serious conversation in such a gorgeous place. But yes, that's when I learned the news. Absolutely horrible. Poor, dear Celeste. Clearly, she booked and paid for a ticket for her own killer. It's just wrong."

Myrtle said, hugging her body with her arms as a chilly breeze blew by, "So you believe that she was murdered by someone close to her."

Bettina raised her carefully penciled eyebrows. "Of course I do. I haven't heard any suggestion that she wasn't. It's hardly plausible that a band of ruffians attacked her and threw her over the side. Why would they?"

"You'd mentioned at the bridge game yesterday that Celeste had a challenging relationship with her family," said Myrtle.

"That's one way of putting it. She did bring some of it on herself. Celeste was fond of games of all sorts and she was very good at them," said Bettina.

"I'll say," muttered Miles, still smarting from his loss at bridge the day before.