Sweet honeymoon

The treacherous luxury cruise ship sailed out of the bustling New York Harbor. The late spring sun shone brightly, and a warm breeze blew gently.
The vast New York Bay shimmered with azure waters, and the sky above the Hudson River estuary was a deep, almost cloudless blue.
The exceptionally high resolution allowed for a clear view of the towering skyscrapers of New York Harbor: the Empire State Building, the World Trade Center, Rockefeller Center… and the Statue of Liberty, holding its torch aloft on Liberty Island.
Fran?ois Victor stood atop the high bridge of the cruise ship, surveying his surroundings and watching Sofia Barbana busily working beside the camera. He knew their “Operation A” had begun.
At exactly 10:00 AM, an unusually lively scene unfolded at the “Old Johnson” pier in New York Harbor.
In the distance, a waist-high iron fence had been erected, and outside, nearly ten thousand citizens surged forward. With each luxury car arriving, they erupted in cheers, frantically rushing towards the fence. Just as frenzied as the citizens were the countless journalists who had rushed from all over the world. Dozens of video cameras and hundreds of camera lenses were all pointed at the people emerging from their cars. It was as if all of New York's police force had gathered here, linking arms to form a human wall outside the fence, trying to hold back the surging crowd.
The pier was a riot of color, with ten thousand pots of blooming roses, lilacs, tulips, and cosmos creating a vibrant tapestry of red and purple. Red carpets stretched along the four aisles, leading directly to the super cruise ship moored beside the pier.
Today, the gleaming 20,000-ton luxury cruise ship, the "Princess Alice," was the focus of attention in New York and even the world—because today it was carrying one hundred newlywed couples from around the world, departing from New York Harbor for a four-month round-the-world cruise.
"Hey, look! The self-proclaimed world-renowned retail tycoon Charlie Hanston has arrived!"
Victor, standing on the bridge of the "Princess Ellie," said to Barbara beside him, pursing his lips.
On the dock, a vintage "Iron Snow Dragon" drove through the iron fence and stopped. The door opened, and an old man, almost as old as the vintage car, emerged. He wore a white suit, a crimson rose pinned to his chest, and his head was almost completely bald, with only a few sparse strands of white hair remaining.
“Yes, it’s him! Look, that’s his nineteen-year-old wife, Emily Maureen. They just got married yesterday at Notre Dame Cathedral.”
Barbana replied to Victor, then turned and patted the young man operating the camera on the shoulder, saying, “Jamie, turn the camera to the dock, push it forward, and give that one of the world’s ten richest men a close-up!”
On the dock, old Hanston helped a slender young woman out of his car—his bride, Maureen. She wore a snow-white woolen blouse and skirt, cinched at the waist with a crimson belt that made her waist appear even more delicate.
Old Hanston supported his bride as they walked towards the “Princess Alice,” frequently gesturing to the onlookers. At that moment, the brass band began to play a resounding melody.
Outside the iron fence, cheers erupted, and people surged even more frantically toward the “blockade”—a display of worship for money and power.
At that moment, a young man with a punk-style haircut, seemingly infected by the madness, hysterically pushed his way to the fence, cursing as he pulled a white, grimy object from under his ragged clothes and swiftly threw it at the bride and groom.
The grenade-like object arced through the air, about to hit old Hanston on the head.
"Ah!"
a gasp rippled through the crowd.
Several ruthless policemen pounced on the punk youth, pinning him to the ground in the blink of an eye.
Amid the gasps, Hanston, however, moved with surprising agility. This old man, who loved golf and bowling, caught the contraption with both hands.
Upon closer inspection, it turned out not to be a bomb, but a giant plastic penis model. These plastic penises were often displayed outside "adult sex toy" stores as signs and advertisements.
In an awkward moment, old Hanston suddenly laughed. He turned his head and whispered something to his bride, then held the penis model between his hips, swaying his waist and making a few lewd gestures towards the crowd with a rather amusing air.
"Wow!"
The crowd burst into laughter and applause.
Old Hanston tossed the penis model back into the crowd, helped his bride up, and continued walking towards the "Princess Alice."
Applause rang out again, this time not for old Hanston, but for another newly arrived car.
From this extended Cadillac stepped the famous porn star Roy Theresa and her new husband—
five years earlier, the "Laurence Ocean Shipping Company," registered in Panama, was facing a financial crisis, with soaring deficits and teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. However, at the beginning of that year, after a day of heated debate at the board meeting, the directors made a decision that turned the tide that evening.
This decision was nothing short of a gamble with the company's and their own future—instead of cutting costs, laying off staff and workers, the company raised $600 million to build the unprecedentedly luxurious super-cruise ship "Princess Alice" in the history of world shipping.
It was truly a life-or-death gamble!
The board members astutely predicted the global political and economic situation: the collapse of the Eastern Bloc, the recovery of the world economy, the rise of Southeast Asian countries, and the new trend in global tourism… all of which prompted the board to make this seemingly unconventional decision.
In today's view, it was this move that saved the nearly bankrupt "Laurence Ocean Shipping Company."
The construction of the "Princess Alice" attracted the attention of people in the global shipbuilding, shipping, and tourism industries. When the super-luxury cruise ship first began construction in Amsterdam, Denmark, "Laurence's" stock, which had been on a downward trend, suddenly rebounded sharply in New York, Tokyo, London, and Hong Kong.
Investing $600 million to build a cruise ship was a display of confidence and strong competitiveness from the "Laurence Company"! Countless shareholders, large and small, were lured by this appearance, participating in a frenzy of stock purchases.
Subsequently, the "Laurence Company's" shipping and shipbuilding businesses reversed their decline, with commissions and orders pouring in, the company's business booming, and huge profits rolling in.
Of course, the most attention was focused on the "Princess Alice." Over four years, this 24,000-ton behemoth underwent the installation of the world's most advanced FA2 twin-scroll four-stroke diesel engines in Amsterdam's shipyard, boasting a power output of 4,000 horsepower. The navigation room was equipped with the latest research achievement from Stanford University—a high-precision fiber optic gyroscope navigation system—and matched it with the AFR-III "Droga" computer, enabling even unmanned operation during ocean voyages.
For special defense needs, the cruise ship was also equipped with advanced, undisclosed weaponry. Only a handful of people in the know are aware that these advanced weapons include shipborne particle beam guns and underwater pursuit torpedoes. With these two weapons, the luxurious super-cruise ship is fully capable of eliminating threats from the air, the surface, and even the seabed on its own.
After its launch in Amsterdam, the Princess Elizabeth underwent a series of berthing and sea trials before sailing to the port of Marseille, France, for final interior finishing.
The Lloyd's of Lafayette company commissioned designers from France, Spain, Italy, India, and Japan to create cabins with various moods, sparing no expense—an additional $200 million—for the most luxurious and extravagant interior decoration.
"Don't worry about the cost, just strive for perfection!" This was the company's instruction to the designers.
Today, this gleaming silver super-cruise ship finally stands before the world, like a magnificent palace floating on the sea—it seems more suited to the myths of *One Thousand and One Nights* than to real life. The
Princess Elizabeth is 220 meters long and 64 meters wide, with a pleasingly streamlined hull and cabins, and can reach a speed of 40 knots. Besides various facilities for song and dance, film and television, sports, fitness, and gambling, the cruise ship also features a 40-meter-long and 30-meter-wide swimming pool at the bow, and a platform at the stern large enough for two Poseidon helicopters to take off and land simultaneously.
The maiden voyage of the Princess Alice caused a worldwide sensation.
The Laureus Company, with its unique vision, decided that the cruise ship's maiden voyage would be a round-the-world cruise, carrying one hundred newlywed couples on this "honeymoon trip." Six months in advance, the Laureus Company advertised extensively in major newspapers and on television networks worldwide, promoting this "unprecedented" super-pleasure event.
They even printed a thick, 1100-page booklet, a beautifully printed collection of photographs of the various locations the cruise ship would visit, as well as the various high-quality services the cruise ship would provide for the newlyweds, down to the dishes served at each meal, the aperitifs, and the wines served with the meal. After a thorough investigation, the booklet titled "Alice Embraces You" was sent to many people intending to get married.
In fact, the "Laurence Company" didn't need to make such a big fuss; in just ten days, they received hundreds of telex replies. These people who spared no expense to participate in the "honeymoon" were all wealthy and influential figures, eager to join in, some even postponing their original wedding dates or holding their weddings earlier to coincide with the "Princess Alice's" departure date.
According to computer statistics, among these one hundred couples were chairmen of intercontinental retail chains, oil tycoons from the Arab world, diamond mine owners from Southern Africa, garment magnates from Southeast Asia, movie stars, television news anchors, rising ballet stars, and renowned lawyers, doctors, journalists, and writers…
These one hundred newlywed couples were truly diverse and unusual—among them were an eighty-year-old man and his nineteen-year-old wife, a sixty-year-old wealthy woman and her twenty-year-old husband, and even several gay and lesbian couples.
The maiden voyage of the Princess Alice naturally became a hot topic in global news reporting. Despite mixed reviews, strangely, all the news media referred to this luxury cruise ship as a "honeymoon cruise ship."
NBC, ABC, CNN, CBS, NHK, ATV, and Star TV—almost all major television networks in the US and Hong Kong—were vying for the "honeymoon cruise ship's"
docking locations. The long voyage made it clear to everyone that the "interview and broadcasting rights" were highly profitable; this fierce competition rivaled even the battle for exclusive live broadcast rights to the Summer Olympics.
Finally, after brutal competition, Euronews acquired the exclusive rights for one billion French francs. According to the agreement between Euronews and "Laurence," the network dispatched a highly skilled eight-person crew to board the "honeymoon cruise ship."
This crew would provide in-depth coverage throughout the four-month voyage, editing the daily footage of the newlyweds into half-hour programs for broadcast on Euronews' "Paradise on Earth" segment, a special program showcasing the lives of the world's wealthy.
Fran?ois Victor was the producer of this crucial filming crew, while Sofia Barbana was the anchor, script supervisor, and writer.
At noon, as the "Honeymoon Cruise" was about to depart, the ship sounded its long whistle, a sound both loud and melodious, like a soaring orchestral note.
From ten o'clock in the morning until now, most of the distinguished passengers had boarded this floating palace on time.
Beside the massive mooring bollards at the dock, several workers in orange overalls were preparing to untie the mooring lines.
Just then, a deep red Ferrari and a black BMW sped up, almost simultaneously crashing through the dock's iron railings.
"Well, the last guests have finally arrived!" Victor said to Barbana on the cruise ship's bridge.
"Hmph, they're so time-sensitive, almost a second late!" Barbana glanced at her watch and muttered to herself.
Two handsome young men emerged from two luxury cars, both elegant, tall, and broad-shouldered, dressed in well-tailored suits.
The two dashing grooms each helped their brides out of their cars, and they walked down the red carpets of the two flower-lined aisles, their eyes fixed straight ahead towards the "honeymoon cruise ship."
"Oh, David Daniel, Dave Vallance! These two oil tycoons look so much like twins, but few know they're sworn enemies,"
Barbana said to Victor, making a disdainful gesture with her right hand, as if she wanted to say more.
Victor pursed his lips, remaining silent.
Seeing this, Barbana also shut her mouth.
Both of them sensed someone climbing the gangway onto the bridge, a pair of gloomy eyes fixed on them.
Sure enough, a tall, burly man appeared on the gangway, wearing the special nautical uniform of the "Honeymoon Cruise" and a peaked cap neatly placed on his head. This was Zhao Haoming, the second mate in charge of overall security on the cruise ship.
"Hi, Zhao!" Victor greeted him warmly in English.
Zhao Haoming didn't respond. This Chinese-American scanned the members of the filming team on the bridge with a gloomy and wary gaze, scrutinizing the aluminum alloy cases containing the camera equipment.
These equipment and cases had already undergone a rigorous inspection by Zhao Haoming and his men when boarding yesterday. What else could he possibly suspect?
Victor disliked this Chinese-American second mate. Although he didn't hold any racist views, he just couldn't stand his broad forehead, the gloomy look in his deep-set eyes, his flat nose, and his thick, ochre lips.
Three days ago, Victor met Zhao Haoming. At first glance, he sensed Zhao was a difficult person to work with; introverted, with deeply hidden emotions, he wondered what ulterior motives Zhao was plotting, and he wasn't good with words. Zhao Haoming's hands were square, the knuckles calloused, a clear indication of his considerable skill. Zhao Haoming had twenty-four security personnel under his command, all highly trained, some even having worked for the CIR (Central Intelligence Agency).
"You guys continue with your work, I...I'm just looking around," Zhao Haoming said, waving as he descended the gangway.
As soon as he turned around, Barbana winked at Victor and made a face.
Victor breathed a sigh of relief; without that gloomy gaze on his back, he felt much more relaxed.
"Whoosh!"
At exactly 12:10, the "Honeymoon Cruise" sounded its horn once more, white spray rising from its stern as it slowly departed from the "Old Johnson" dock.
On the dock, hundreds of colorful ribbons connecting the cruise ship were snapped one by one. The crowds waved their hands, seemingly mirroring the rolling white waves. Along the dock, a brass band, arranged in a square formation, played a deafening rendition of "Beautiful California." Boom, boom, boom… Twelve cannon salutes were fired from the shore—the "Laurence Company" was using the ceremonial honors of sending off a state guest to bid farewell to its "darling of the heavens" on its maiden voyage.
The exciting journey had finally begun!
The "Honeymoon Cruise" accelerated steadily, the skyscrapers of New York City, the Statue of Liberty on Liberty Island
, and the green oases of New Jersey gradually receding into the distance.
The "Honeymoon Cruise Ship," puffing light smoke, sailed towards the crowds at the mouth of the Hudson River, towards the vast Atlantic Ocean… (II) Male and female agents dispatched by Interpol headquarters
The spacious cabin was a pristine white world.
Snow-white wool carpets covered the floor, and the Spanish-style coffee table, low cabinet, sofa, and bed frame were all white. The teak wall panels and curtains were also a warm, clean white.
A red carnation was placed in a Dutch-made multifaceted vase on the coffee table, adding a vibrant touch to the pristine world.
"Hey, honey, I think you should wear that yellow evening gown tonight!" Victor said as he entered the cabin. He pulled off his sweat-soaked blue t-shirt, revealing his strong, hairy upper body, and then went to take off his distressed blue jeans.
"No. I think I should wear that strapless Hawaiian miniskirt; I have to be on camera tonight," said Bagina, untying the knot at the front of her blouse and quickly walking towards the tall wardrobe.
“Hey, don’t forget I’m your husband. I have the right to make my suggestions,” Viktor said, his eyes fixed on her long, shapely legs and her round, firm buttocks.
Standing in front of the wardrobe, Barbana removed her blouse, revealing her smooth, graceful back. The bra straps cleaved her ribs, creating a deep cleavage.
Viktor couldn’t understand why this Polish girl would wear such a tight bra, so disproportionate to her heavy breasts.
“Good, I always remember that. But don’t even think about sleeping with me, don’t even dream about it!” Barbana mocked. She took a few changes of clothes from the wardrobe, held them to her chest to cover her prominent breasts, and strode towards the bathroom like a whirlwind.
“Fine, whatever!”
Viktor had already taken off his jeans, leaving him in only his tight underwear. He slumped dejectedly onto the white leather sofa.
Bang! The bathroom door closed. Then, a click—the sound of a lock being put on.
Immediately afterward, the sound of running water filled the bathroom.
Victor lay back on the sofa, imagining the beautiful scene inside: a black marble bathtub, making the girl's smooth skin appear even whiter; gilded taps spraying puffs of mist; her delicate body, like a fairy from mythology, appearing and disappearing...
Sigh! -- For some reason, Victor suddenly let out a long, silent sigh.
Not long ago, Fran?ois Victor had celebrated his thirty-first birthday. His father was of pure French descent, and his mother was a Polish Jew. These two bloodlines combined in a wonderful way, giving Victor a tall, strong, and elegant appearance that captivated many women.
Victor had thick chestnut hair, grey-blue eyes, a straight nose, and angular features. His chin was strong and powerful, but his lips were soft and sensual, revealing his inner weakness—human nature's lustful nature.
Victor's true profession wasn't as a television producer; he was the captain of the plainclothes detective team in the Paris Central Bureau of Intelligence, a branch of Interpol headquarters.
Nine years earlier, Victor had graduated from the French Higher Police Academy, and since then, he had served in the Paris Central Bureau of Intelligence's plainclothes detective team.
As an outsider, Victor's first few years were extremely difficult. Parisians were mostly arrogant and self-important, viewing outsiders as country bumpkins—Victor was born in Nice, where his father was a small vineyard owner who had never been to Paris.
However, his Parisian colleagues soon grew to like Victor. He was kind and sincere, and loved football, swimming, shooting, and skiing. He had participated in the French Triathlon multiple times, consistently placing in the top ten.
Victor was brave and tenacious, diligent and responsible, possessing the tenacity typical of "outsiders." Within a few years of starting his job, he had successively dismantled the Paris branches of international terrorist organizations such as the "Red Brigades," "Black International," and the "International Revolutionary Army
," personally arresting dozens of key figures. Not only that, Victor was cheerful and well-liked. He loved French literature, played the piano with skill comparable to Richard Clayderman, and was an exceptionally talented classical dancer with remarkably elegant and graceful movements.
Within the Paris Central Bureau, people privately considered Victor the best candidate to become the future head of the intelligence agency, especially after he almost single-handedly solved the "Devil's Cult Case" last year. In that globally shocking case, Victor risked his life to capture the cult leader, Mona Sabova, for which he received a "Warrior" medal from Interpol.
However, solving this case left Victor exhausted, and he considered resigning to live a quiet life.
It was Prosecutor Harry Delemont of the Paris Central Bureau's intelligence department who insisted on keeping Victor on.
Victor had only met his "wife," Sophia Barbana, three months prior.
That day was February 5th, a Wednesday.
The weather in Paris that day was unusually clear, contrary to the usual chilly spring weather. On the highway leading to Saint-Cloth, a suburb of Paris, the sun shone brightly, and visibility was excellent.
That day, Victor was ordered to accompany Prosecutor Harry Dreymon to the Interpol headquarters to receive a new assignment.
Victor drove his Mezda sedan, playing his favorite tune, "The Last Rose of Autumn." Dreymon, sitting beside him, remained silent, seemingly lost in thought.
Harry Dreymon, in his forties, had a slightly receding hairline, wore gold-rimmed glasses and a plaid suit, and looked like a high school math teacher or the owner of a small watch shop. Although Dreymon was unassuming, he was resourceful and intelligent, known in the Paris central bureau as "the killer sitting in front of the computer."
The Interpol headquarters building was located in Saint-Cloth, a suburb of Paris.
Victor and Dreymon climbed to the sixth floor of the headquarters building and entered the office of Chief Blackman, located around the corner.
The southeast walls of the office were fitted with floor-to-ceiling windows.
Standing in front of the glass window and gazing into the distance, the entire city of Paris is clearly visible—the white spire of the Sacré-C?ur Basilica in Montmartre, the Arc de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower in Place de l'étoile, and the skyscrapers that are changing the skyline of Paris.
While the outside scenery was spectacular, the office interior was quite rudimentary. A desk, a few chairs, and a metal cabinet—which served as both a filing cabinet and a wardrobe. Besides these, there was a small computer and a massive pile of documents and files. Chief Blackman was buried among these files.
It was in this office that Victor received his assignment last year to solve the "Devil Cult Case." Blackman was an old friend of Victor and Dremont; he was also a French police officer who, before coming to headquarters, had earned a doctorate in law from Grenoble University and taught at the Higher Police Academy of French Languages. He spoke fluent German, English, and Spanish.
"Hey guys, thanks for coming. How about a coffee?"
Blackman stood up from the pile of files, greeting them in a hoarse voice, his eyes puffy, indicating he hadn't slept for days and was utterly exhausted.
Suddenly, Victor's eyes lit up. He saw a stunningly beautiful blonde girl, carrying a tray of coffee cups, gracefully walking towards them.
She was a young woman in her late teens, with long, flowing, naturally wavy golden hair, captivating eyes with long eyelashes and emerald green pupils, and a delicate, slightly upturned nose—a characteristic of Slavic descent. She possessed an exceptionally alluring figure, tall and slender, her knee-length trousers tightly hugging her shapely thighs, and her loose top revealing prominent breasts, radiating a sensual glow.
"Hey, young man, this is your new partner," Blackman said to Victor.
And so, Victor met Sofia Barbana.
This meeting once again changed Victor's life.
According to Director Blackman, the "Princess Alice" cruise ship had barely been launched, and before even reaching the port of Marseille for interior finishing, the "Laurence Company" had received several threatening phone calls. The anonymous callers threatened that the "Honeymoon Cruise Ship" was a symbol of the world's decadence and that they would blow up this "evil of capitalist society," creating a horrific tragedy that would shock the world.
The "Laurence Company" kept this information secret and secretly investigated, but couldn't identify the organization making the anonymous calls. As the "Honeymoon Cruise Ship's" maiden voyage drew closer, the anonymous calls to the company's leaders became increasingly frequent. Desperate, the "Laurence Company," along with their insurer, "American Universal Insurance Company," sought help from Interpol headquarters.
Blackman said that because the anonymous call was made in French, headquarters decided to have the Paris Central Bureau handle the case, with Dreyman and Victor forming a special task force. Dreyman would manage internal affairs, and Victor would handle fieldwork. For this purpose, headquarters specially transferred Miss Sophia Barbana from the London Central Bureau to be Victor's assistant.
Blakeman said their mission from headquarters was to board the "Honeymoon Cruise" and protect the ship and its passengers during its four-month voyage, thwarting the plots of international terrorists.
From the day he received the assignment, Victor became a diligent student. He learned television camera techniques, how to operate the Japanese, German, and Dutch-made television cameras, how to edit the footage on editing and special effects machines, and how to conduct interpersonal relationships and manage finances as a producer. For each course, headquarters provided dedicated instructors for one-on-one teaching.
In the early days, Barbana was also Victor's teacher. A graduate of the Television Broadcasting Department at Oxford University's College of Art, she was fluent in eight languages, including French, German, and Russian. Her public identity was a presenter for the BBC's "Global Travel" program—she had worked for the station while still a student and had even traveled to Eastern Europe during her school holidays.
During their two and a half months of study, Victor and Barbana became acquainted, and he fell in love with her.
Women's connoisseurs worldwide agree that Poland is famous for its beautiful women. Located in Central Europe on the southern coast of the Baltic Sea, Poland enjoys a consistently humid maritime climate. Influenced by its geography, climate, and genetic makeup, Polish girls are often described as ethereal beauties. They are slender, with exceptionally full and firm breasts, and remarkably, Polish women generally don't gain weight even in middle age. Besides their physical beauty, Polish women are typically gentle, understanding, and have clear, melodious voices.
Viktor believes that among all the Polish women he has ever seen, Barbana is the most outstanding.
In 1976, Poland experienced the world-shaking "June Events." On June 24th of that year, Polish Parliament Chairman Jaros?aw Jaros?aw proposed raising the prices of several major food items by more than 50%.
On June 25th, millions of workers and citizens staged massive strikes and boycotts in cities such as Warsaw, Radom, Gdansk, P?ock, and Szczecin. Holding banners proclaiming "Oppose Soviet Exploitation" and "All Power to the Working Class," they confronted the armed police and military who arrived to suppress them. The Polish authorities were forced to announce the "withdrawal" of their original price increase proposal on the evening of June 25th, making concessions to the striking workers.
Following the "June Events," Polish police and military secretly intensified their search for strike leaders. Barbana's parents were forced to flee with their young daughter to Boston, USA, to find their uncle who had emigrated there after World War II.
Later, Barbana's parents took her to settle in Worcester, a small town in England. Barbana grew up there until she was admitted to the College of Art at Oxford University.
Victor liked Barbana very much, but Barbana disliked Victor. A Polish girl raised in England once bluntly told Victor, "You Frenchmen are all womanizers; you can sleep with any woman you meet in a bar."
However, Barbara was forced to "marry" Victor.
"Sigh, I think you two should register your marriage,"
a worried-looking prosecutor, Harry Dremont, told Victor and Barbara that day. That same day, they learned that Euronews had obtained a patent for exclusive coverage of the "Honeymoon Cruise Ship."
The next day, Barbara married the television producer, who went by the pseudonym "Philippe Le Jean."
Thus, Barbara and "Philippe Le Jean" joined the Euronews crew and boarded the "Honeymoon Cruise Ship."
(III) The Emperor and Empress on the First Day in the Magical Nightclub
A gentle sea breeze blew, and the sky was filled with stars.
The vast Atlantic Ocean was surging with gentle waves.
On the dark sea, the brightly lit "Honeymoon Cruise Ship," adorned with colorful lights, resembled a moving fairyland on the sea.
With the roar of engines and the splash of waves, the "Honeymoon Cruise" cruised smoothly at 30 knots towards its first stop—the Bahamas.
Located in the northernmost part of the West Indies, the Bahamas consists of 700 islands and over 2,000 reefs, stretching like a chain from east of Florida, USA, southeast for over 800 kilometers, all the way to about 100 kilometers northeast of Cuba. Only about 30 islands are inhabited; the rest are covered in untouched tropical rainforests. These islands are flat and beautiful, making them world-renowned tourist destinations. The
"Magic Nightclub" is located on the second deck below the deck deck, and four passenger elevators can quickly take you there.
Standing at the entrance of the "Magic Nightclub," you won't feel like you're on a ship.
Here, there were wide jade steps, long crimson carpets, and granite pillars over ten meters high, along with a row of male usher-ins in maroon uniforms… All of this made one feel as if they were standing at the entrance of the famous Metropolitan Theatre on Broadway in New York.
“Ladies and gentlemen watching on television, look! -- The ‘Honeymoon Cruise’ is holding a grand party for all the newlyweds here tonight. This is their first time appearing together as a whole, and there are supposedly some fantastic song and dance performances to keep the party going…” At the nightclub entrance, Barbana, wearing a strapless mini-dress, stood in front of the camera and spoke to the lens.
Victor stood beside the camera, looking at the monitor on the ground. He felt the lighting technician's lights were like a pair of magic hands; under the lights, Barbana appeared both alluring and mature. Television viewers generally didn't like young program hosts; only maturity seemed believable.
At the nightclub entrance, couples of grooms entered in a continuous stream, dressed in flamboyant and outlandish outfits, like a fashion show themed around wedding attire.
Just moments ago, they had enjoyed a sumptuous feast in the cruise ship's grand restaurant: Russian salmon roe sauce, English deer tail soup, French snail salad, Thai crocodile tail gelatin… The delicacies and fine wines had left the newlyweds tipsy and intoxicated. They shed their usual gentlemanly and ladylike demeanor, becoming talkative and chattering, supporting each other as they headed towards the nightclub.
Victor knew that these wealthy businessmen and socialites had no shortage of opportunities to travel the world; some even owned their own private jets, and they had long since visited many of the world's tourist destinations. However, they had never before abandoned worldly affairs to dedicate such a long period to pleasure. Their purpose for this trip was to enjoy life, seek new thrills, and experience pleasures unattainable by ordinary people.
The meticulously designed hall featured 120 double-person boxes, arranged in four staggered tiers in an arc shape, surrounding the central performance stage. The walls of the hall and the two-seater booths were all covered in purple-blue velvet, giving the entire hall a spacious and empty feel. The two-seater sofas in the booths were also covered in purple-blue velvet, offering an unobstructed view of the stage but no other audience members; you could only sense their breathing around you.
A hazy spotlight shone on the oval stage, which was also covered in purple-blue carpet, perfectly matching the hall's overall color scheme. The stage was currently empty, and soft, oriental-sounding electronic music filled the hall.
"Ah, darling, it feels like I'm in the Sahara Desert, lying under the starlight of the West African night sky!" Victor exclaimed dramatically, taking Barbana's hand and kissing the back of it lightly.
"Yes, I also saw the Forty Thieves and Ali Baba, but unfortunately, Sesame just wouldn't open the door..." Barbana retorted in the same tone, pulling her small hand away and patting his cheek with pity.
“Oh, my passion is ignited by the desert fire, I yearn for the clear mountain spring!” Victor continued his Shakespearean performance in an exaggerated tone.
“You feel your insides burning, you can’t wait, can you? That’s easy.”
Barbana said with a smile, pressing a button on the wall of the box. With a “pop,” a small door opened, and a can of ice-cold Pepsi rolled out.
“Hey, my dear wife, you are my unsinging cicada!”
Victor quoted from the Bible, grabbing the can of cola.
Victor wanted to continue flirting, but then the spotlight on the stage suddenly went out, and the soft electronic music stopped abruptly.
The noise from the various boxes in the hall ceased, and a moment of silence fell.
Suddenly, the silence was filled with the grand and powerful music of a pipe organ, magnificent, resonant, and forceful, filling every space of the hall.
As the music began, three spotlights began to dimly illuminate the stage, like three rays of morning sunlight piercing through the canopy of a dense forest.
Then, a dozen or so indistinct figures appeared on the stage, all draped in white cloaks, moving swiftly and gracefully, like spirits dancing wildly in a primeval forest.
A few clear male and female voices joined in a powerful and resonant organ melody. A polyphonic male and female chorus, with religious undertones, sang a wordless song.
The three spotlights grew brighter, and the bride and groom in the boxes gradually realized that the dancers on stage were eight young men and eight young women, draped only in sheer white veils. Beneath the veils, the eight men were naked, and the eight women's bodies were also exposed!
"Wow!"
The audience in the boxes erupted in enthusiastic applause.
Amidst the applause, a man in a tuxedo appeared on stage, waving to the audience with a beaming smile.
The man was a full 190 centimeters tall, with exceptionally broad shoulders, long brown hair, a full beard, a large hooked nose, and a set of pearly white teeth.
"Ladies and gentlemen, good day! I am Captain Sandro Bueno of the 'Princess Alice,' and on behalf of the 'Laurence Company,' I welcome you to our journey to paradise!" As the song faded, the man on the stage spoke, bowing politely.
The audience in the boxes erupted in applause once more.
"I guarantee tonight you will enjoy a song and dance performance even more spectacular and exciting than the 'Oscars' ceremony! However, please allow me to first introduce my bride—Charles Vera!"
Captain Bueno said, waving his hand.
From the left corner of the stage, a tall, slender young woman stepped out.
Charles Vera, dressed in a peach-colored short dress, swayed her hips as she walked towards the center of the stage, her firm breasts bobbing with each step, blowing kisses into the hall as she went.
The applause in the hall grew even louder; some even whistled and stomped their feet.
"Alright, Vera, or the other brides will be jealous," said Captain Bueno, putting his arm around his new wife's waist. "Now, please allow me to introduce my assistant, First Mate Martin Cade, and his bride, Michelle Ava!" From
the right corner of the stage, a young couple walked out, hand in hand.
First Mate Cade was of medium build, strong and wiry, dressed in his nautical uniform, looking very dashing. The bride, Ava, was petite and charming, wearing a white floor-length gown, radiant and full of life.
The applause in the hall reached another climax.
“Hey, Cade, what do you have to say to everyone?” Captain Bueno asked affectedly, somewhat like a clumsy party emcee.
“I have a suggestion: starting tonight, we’ll elect a bride and groom every day to be the Emperor and Empress of our cruise ship—everyone should offer their heartfelt blessings to the Emperor and Empress, and the Emperor and Empress should try their best to fulfill everyone’s requests.”
First Mate Cade’s words were barely finished before they were drowned out by cheers erupting in the hall.
“It seems everyone agrees with your suggestion. So, who will be fortunate enough to become the first Emperor and Empress of the cruise ship tonight?” Captain Bueno asked.
Suddenly, a magnificent lion with a flowing mane leaped from the corner of the stage, its gaping maw carrying a sealed cardboard box as it approached Captain Bueno.
"Ha, Jimmy, thank you for bringing the ballot box containing the names of one hundred newlywed couples!"
said Captain Bueno, taking the box and patting the lion's head. The lion yawned and obediently descended from the stage.
"Well then, let's see who will claim the glory of the first emperor and queen."
Captain Bueno reached into the ballot box, pretending to rummage around for a few moments, before pulling out a slip of paper and unfolding it for a closer look.
At that moment, the hall fell silent; everyone held their breath.
"Ah, God, Allah, Buddha, my wise Lord! Tonight's emperor and queen are—Dr. G. Farmer and his bride, Roy Theresa!" Captain Bueno proclaimed loudly.
In that instant, thunderous applause and cheers erupted.
Among the celebrities and socialites from all over the world, who didn't know the names of Dr. Farmer and the stripper Teresa?
"Please, please welcome the Emperor and Empress to the stage for their coronation!"
announced the boatman from Bueno, and everyone else on the stage disappeared from view.
Several more spotlights shone, accurately illuminating the box in front of the stage. Farmer and Teresa stood up and walked onto the stage amidst applause.
"Hmph, what a well-matched bride and groom!"
Victor muttered to himself, while Barbara ignored him.
Dr. G. Farmer was forty-one years old. He was quite tall, slightly hunched like a grey stork, with a receding hairline, and wore frameless, ultra-thin glasses. Dr. Farmer was the head of the largest "Rochfell Institute of Psychological Medicine" in Europe, and also the editor-in-chief and main contributor to the *Journal of Psychological Medicine*. Dr. Farmer was in his first marriage, and his marriage to Teresa was considered by the press to be "the most revolutionary marriage of the century."
Roy Teresa, originally from Italy, is 28 years old this year. She is blonde with blue eyes and an exceptionally sexy figure. Teresa has been married twice. Her first husband was a third-rate Hollywood director, and her second marriage was to a famous French race car driver who
died six months ago in the Paris-Qatar rally.
At the age of sixteen, Teresa left Turin, Italy, for Paris, the "City of Lights," hoping to join a ballet company, but without success. At seventeen, Teresa starred in her first Category III pornographic film, playing a shepherdess gang-raped by Tatar bandits, which brought her instant fame. In the ten years since then, Teresa has starred in over thirty Category III pornographic films. Few in Europe and America haven't seen her enormous breasts and round buttocks; near her anus, she also has a charming little black mole.
To be fair, what elevated Teresa to the throne of pornographic film queen wasn't merely her alluring body; she was a "character actress" in the genre. She could grasp the different psychological states of her characters in each film, creating a series of sexual icons for the audience, some reserved, some lewd. Even more remarkable, Teresa could portray the different sexual psychological feelings of a character in different scenes within the same film—using her eyebrows, her bright eyes, and her facial expressions.
Not long ago, Victor saw Teresa's new film, *Palm Springs*, in Paris.
In this $30 million pornographic blockbuster, Teresa played Surya, the queen of the ancient Persian kingdom of Philosopher. Surya adored and deeply loved her husband, but she was also jealous of his visit to the "Palm Springs" to enjoy nine Arab girls—"spoils of war" presented to him by his nine generals. This jealousy led Surya to commit adultery with General Herazik and conspire with him to seize the throne… The Persian king discovered the plot, hanged the general, and ordered condemned prisoners to gang-rape Surya to death.
In this film, Teresa brilliantly portrayed the complex character of Surya, her acting skills surpassing even the most popular "character actresses" of today.
At this moment, under the spotlight, Teresa and her husband, Farmer, stood on the stage.
Tonight, Teresa wore a classic blue dress, completely covering her wrists and neck.
"Bless our Emperor and Queen!"
Captain Bueno shouted, placing a glittering golden crown on their heads.
As the deafening "Wedding March" played, the audience in the boxes all stood up, humming along loudly.
The world here seemed solemn, harmonious, friendly, and joyful, as if foreshadowing a happy future for all the brides and grooms.
"Well then, they have received our blessings. Now, before the song and dance performance, what requests do you all have for the Emperor and Empress?" After the music ended and the people sat down, Buenno asked from the stage.
The entire hall was silent; no one reacted for a moment.
"Hmm, Your Majesty, your dress is truly beautiful! But I think it might be a little too hot for you at this spring-like party," Buenno asked slyly, hinting to the audience.
"Indeed, Mr. Buenno, I do feel a little hot, but that's thanks to your fine wine..."
Teresa replied, her voice slightly husky and full of magnetism.
“Really? Then, do you want me to help you?” Bueno interrupted Theresa, winking at the audience and further gesturing.
“Take it off!” Suddenly, a young man jumped up from a box in front of the stage, shouting loudly.
“Yes, take it off, Theresa, take it off!”
“Take it off, Theresa, take it off!”
The shouts reminded the audience, and many people started to jeer and yell rudely, as if they had forgotten their gentlemanly status and become strippers in a sleazy bar in Harlem, New York.
“Friends, I know you all want to see my body, but I have sworn never to undress in public again.
If you are interested, you can watch the videos I made before…” Theresa said amidst the clamor, a faint smile still on her face.
“Take it off, stop arguing, take it all off!”
The shouts drowned out Theresa’s voice.
“Your Majesty, please grant your subjects’ small request!” Bueno said, shrugging as he dragged away the expressionless Dr. Farmer.
On the stage, only Teresa remained, seemingly at a loss.
Suddenly, the spotlight dimmed, and beautiful, gentle oriental music filled the air. Ah, it was the theme song from the film *Palm Springs*.
To the music, the eight girls draped in white veils floated onto the stage like ghosts, dancing gracefully behind Teresa.
As if drawn by the music, Teresa began to slowly twirl, her hands reaching for the buttons on her chest. Her
long, flowing blue dress slipped down, revealing Teresa wearing only a tight bra and a pair of barely-there underpants. Her alluring body was exposed to the public eye.
The shouts in the hall ceased, and everyone stared intently at this rare sight—though most had seen Teresa's films, none had ever witnessed her body like this.
To the strains of the film's theme song, Teresa, crowned, seemed to transform back into Queen Surya, yearning for the Persian king's favor. She loosened her tight bra, offering her two large, ripe breasts as if inviting the king to taste them. She pulled down her narrow underpants, her pubic hair trembling, attempting to receive the king's touch.
Teresa danced gracefully, her movements expressing the ecstatic favor she received; her whip-like limbs conveyed her jealousy and her rebellious schemes. Behold, she had found a new lover; she swayed her rounded hips from side to side, conveying her coy acceptance; she twirled her long legs, expressing her joy at ascending to paradise with her new lover.
At this moment, Theresa on the stage had become one with Sulia. The conspiracy was finally exposed, and the Queen was imprisoned in the dungeon, where countless wolves pounced on her. She struggled, she resisted, she begged for mercy, but how could the wolves let go of this tender delicacy? She rolled on the ground, her hands protecting her bloodied mons pubis, but the violent hands pried her limbs open so wide that all her organs were exposed to the villains... She was finally devoured by the wolves, she convulsed and died, ceasing all movement.
"Incredible, she is a genius!" Victor said to Barbana the instant the spotlight went out.
"You have truly seen something amazing tonight." Barbana replied amidst the growing applause in the hall.
(IV) Deadly Threats from Every Corner of the World
The heavy night shrouded Seattle, Washington, USA, the city known as the "cradle of Boeing," in the flickering lights.
This brightly lit city sits atop seven rolling hills. To the west, the Puget Sound of the Pacific Ocean and to the east, Lake Washington, are shrouded in darkness, creating a striking contrast with the city's dazzling lights.
In the distance, the perpetually snow-capped Mount Rainier appears even more majestic in the night.
This white peak, resembling Mount Fuji in Japan, adds a beautiful backdrop to Seattle.
As night deepens, the city's neon lights illuminate half the sky, marking the peak of its nightlife.
The bustling Chinatown, located in the southern part of downtown Seattle, is home to Chinese, Japanese, Koreans, and Filipinos, among other Asian communities, and is known as the "International District.
" Not far from the thriving Uwa Shimaya supermarket stands a dimly lit ten-story building.
All the windows are dark, except for a small light shining through the thick curtains of one room on the top floor.
Hiroo Hideta and his dozen or so companions sat around an oval conference table, all facing the opposite wall of the room.
Hiroo Hideta, thirty-three years old, of Japanese descent and stateless, was the number two figure in the international terrorist organization "Black Death Front" and a wanted criminal on Interpol's "Red File."
Wearing a linen short-sleeved cardigan, with a buzz cut and a small mustache, Hideta possessed broad shoulders and a narrow waist, appearing quite imposing, like a jaguar ready to pounce on its prey.
On the opposite wall hung an 84-inch ultra-thin LCD television screen.
"Hey, Yersen, it's time, let's begin!" Hideta glanced at his watch and called to the tall, white-haired Scandinavian man sitting in the corner.
Yersen pressed a control panel, and an image appeared on the high-definition television screen, while the surround sound speakers immediately blasted loud, cheerful music.
Euronews was broadcasting its "Paradise on Earth" program, vividly depicting the magnificent hull of the "Princess Alice," the frenzied crowds at the "Old Johnson" dock, and the vibrant flowers and red-carpeted aisles...
Then, a life-sized female anchor, Sofia Barbana, appeared on the screen.
"Friends at home, today is the maiden voyage of the 'Honeymoon Cruise.' The skies over New York Harbor are clear and the spring sunshine is bright. Look, the 'Princess Alice,' adorned in its festive finery, welcomes brides and grooms from all over the world..." Barbana said on the television screen, radiant and smiling.
"Damn it! They ignored our warnings and actually sailed the cruise ship out?!" A dark-skinned man of Latin American descent shouted at the conference table, slamming his fist on the table.
“These scoundrels, treating our words like a joke, this is utter contempt and a challenge!” Beside Hirofumi Hideta, a beautiful Western European woman frowned, her teeth grinding together.
Hirofumi Hideta ignored his subordinate's words, his eyes glued to the television screen, his facial muscles taut.
“…This is the most luxurious cruise ship in the world this century. Here you can enjoy a life like royalty; this is paradise on earth! Friends, why don't you follow our camera lens and go aboard for a tour…”
On the television screen, as Barbana spoke, cabins decorated in various colors appeared, bathrooms with extra-large double bathtubs, a kitchen like an assembly line, warehouses filled with all kinds of fine wines, and a magnificent, opulent dining room.
Then, several bartenders in miniskirts appeared on screen, their figures flashing by.
“Hey, brothers, isn't that our dark-haired lady, Giannina?!” In the conference room, someone recognized a bartender and shouted.
“Yes, it’s her, it’s her!” Several people who recognized the woman echoed, surprised, delighted, and puzzled.
Hideaki Hayao remained unmoved, his eyes glued to the television screen.
On the screen, the female announcer Barbana moved about the cruise ship, followed by the bridge filled with various instruments, the radar and navigation equipment on the ship’s roof, the well-organized and cluttered machine tool room, the roaring engine room, and the massive twin-scroll four-stroke diesel engines.
Suddenly, someone in the conference room spotted a familiar face among a group of mechanics in overalls.
“Hey, look, isn’t that our Spanish bull, Fernando? He’s on this ship too?”
the discoverer exclaimed.
“Yes, it’s him! No wonder we haven’t seen him for six months…”
In the conference room, the terrorists who recognized Fernando discussed amongst themselves.
“Alright, Yersin, turn it off,” Hideaki Hayao said, his facial muscles relaxing as he turned his swivel chair to face his subordinates. Under Hideaki Kou's cold, razor-sharp gaze, everyone around the conference table fell silent, as if ashamed of their earlier astonishment and chatter.
Kou's hand stroked the back of the Western European woman's hand beside him, as if soothing a raging Persian cat.
"Who were you talking about just now? I think I heard Gianniya and Fernando. Did you say that?" Kou asked the Western European woman.
Suddenly, he abruptly grabbed her index finger and twisted it forcefully! With a "snap," her index finger broke off, the white bone protruding from her delicate flesh.
"Ah!--" The Western European woman screamed and fainted.
The other women quickly helped her up.
"From this day forward, I don't want anyone to mention Gianniya and Fernando's names again!" Inada Kyūf roared at the stunned crowd.
"Boss, I know you've planned this all along. But I don't understand why we haven't acted yet and blown up this ship of evil?" a burly black man mustered his courage to ask.
"No, I don't want it to be destroyed so soon," Inada Kyūf said slowly, lighting a large cigar.
"Do you want it to spread the decadent stench of the bourgeoisie everywhere, to attract the attention of those who worship money and material desires, and to corrupt the pure hearts of workers worldwide?" a bespectacled, well-mannered Puerto Rican youth sharply questioned.
"Alright, let me tell you, destroying this ship is a piece of cake for me, but I don't want to destroy it so quickly! Let Euronews focus the attention of television viewers worldwide on it, and then we'll strike. I want it to catch fire, explode, burn, and sink in front of television viewers around the world! Gentlemen, I assure you, it won't escape the raging fires of the Atlantic!" said Hirofumi Hideaki, slowly exhaling a thick plume of smoke.
Spring in the foothills of the Alps is still very cold, especially at night.
In late spring, many avid skiers gather here, and almost every mountain lodge is full at night.
Mont Blanc, located on the border of Switzerland and France, is the main peak of the Alps and the backbone of Europe. It rises 4,800 meters, towering majestically, covered in snow for millennia. At the foot of Mont Blanc is a luxurious hotel called the "Buffalo Hotel."
Tonight, the "Buffalo Hotel" is full of tourists—all members of the Charlie Henston family.
After dinner, the main members of the family gathered in the second-floor living room. They were Old Hanston's three sons—Danny, Mike, and Jackson—as well as his eldest daughter Emily and her husband Douglas, and his second daughter Linda and her husband Calgary.
The antique-style living room was furnished and decorated entirely in the style of 18th-century England during the Georgian era. A large fireplace roared in the center of the room, and a huge black bear skin was laid out on the slatted wooden floor in the center. Black bear skins are particularly valuable because of the white "V" shaped markings on their necks, symbolizing victory.
At this moment, the seven main members of the Hanston family sat on the sofa, staring at the screen of a 33-inch Philips color television in the corner of the room.
The headquarters of Charlie Henston's "Hansston Chain Stores" is located in Manhattan, New York City, one of the city's most bustling areas. His chain stores are spread across the Americas, South America, Europe, Asia, and even Africa. In the most vibrant city streets of London, Paris, Rio de Janeiro, Buenos Aires, Cairo, Riyadh, Hong Kong, and Tokyo, you can see stores and shops bearing the "Hansston" name everywhere. It is estimated that the Henston family's assets exceed $50 billion, earning them a place among the "Top Ten Richest People in America" in the latest issue of Time magazine.
The elder Henston's three sons, two daughters, and sons-in-law hold key positions within the chain; they are like the gods on Mount Olympus, while the 83-year-old Henston remains the supreme god—Zeus, the father of the gods. A
33-inch Philips color TV is also broadcasting the "Paradise on Earth" program from the Euronews network.
Hanston's sons, daughters, and sons-in-law stared intently at the screen, seemingly captivated by the exquisitely produced program.
Suddenly, their father's image appeared—the elderly Hanston, supporting his beautiful bride Maureen, stood beside the "Iron Snow Dragon" car, waving to the cheering crowd… Old Hanston and Maureen walked side by side down the aisle… A huge phallic model flew towards them, which Old Hanston nimbly caught amidst the panicked and chaotic crowd… Old Hanston recognized the object in his hand, laughed, and held the phallic model to his crotch, twisting his hips and making a few lewd gestures…
"Pah!" Emily spat, and Hanston's eldest daughter pressed the control panel, turning off the television.
The image and music disappeared together, and the living room fell silent. Old Hanston's sons, daughters, and sons-in-law all bowed their heads, as if attending their father's funeral.
“Well, I think… it’s time to implement that action plan.” In the silence, old Hanston’s eldest son, Danny, stammered, clenching his large, white hands tightly.
“I told you, even if you hadn’t taken my advice, if you had listened to me sooner, things wouldn’t have gotten this bad!” old Hanston’s youngest son, Jackson, shouted angrily, slapping his thigh.
“That damned little vixen, I want to tear her to pieces with my own hands…” the eldest daughter, Emily, groaned in pain, twisting the satin cushion beside her seat.
“So, implementing this plan will cost two million dollars? Isn’t that a bit too expensive? Please don’t misunderstand me, I still advocate for it to be implemented as soon as possible, but… but…” the second son, Mike, stammered, his expression dazed.
“No, I think the two million is still worthwhile! They said the travel expenses and bribes should all be included in the cost. They also offered to prepay half, depositing it in their Lausanne account, and the other half after the goods are wholesaled. Everything will be packaged according to our requirements. They are all seasoned veterans in this business, trustworthy people, and there won't be any mistakes…”
The youngest son, Jackson, explained methodically, as if discussing a business transaction.
“My God, you're plotting to murder your own father! I can't take it anymore, I…”
The youngest daughter, Linda, sobbed, hysterically covering her face and standing up to leave. But her husband, Calgary, held her back.
“You can't leave. This concerns all of our interests, dear, you should stay!” Old Hanston's son-in-law, Calgary, said firmly, putting his arm around his wife's shoulder and pressing her onto the sofa.
"Alright, let's have a secret ballot—things need a result! One vote per person. A checkmark means you agree to implement the plan, an X means you disagree, and a circle means you abstain. Does anyone have any objections?" The eldest son-in-law, Douglas, who had been silent all along, finally spoke. He spoke calmly, his gaze sweeping over the people with a questioning look.
The people lowered their heads in silence, their silence signifying agreement.
Seven blank sheets of paper—seven "life-or-death" ballots.
Each of the seven men buried themselves in marking their votes, folding them afterward and tossing them into the empty cigar box on the table.
"Alright, now let's start counting the votes,"
Douglas said solemnly, and the seven men gathered around.
Seven pairs of eyes were fixed intently on the cigar box.
The "life-or-death" ballots were opened one by one, each marked with a firm checkmark! Florence, a world-renowned city in central Italy, is hailed by people around the world as the "capital of art," a place where painting, sculpture, and music converge.
Outside Florence lies a rolling hillside. In late spring, these hillsides are covered with lush olive groves and vineyards.
Deep within the olive groves stands a medieval manor, its Gothic buildings with their arched, pointed roofs bathed in the soft twilight.
Bright lights shone from the building's lobby, where shadows danced and people moved about. The
spacious lobby, adorned with precious world-famous paintings on its walls—works by Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael, Corot, Millet, Titian… these Renaissance masters made you feel as if you had stepped into an art palace.
Around a rectangular oak dining table, a group of people were feasting. They were drizzling fresh lemon juice over pork tenderloin sauce, or sprinkling pepper and salt on roasted meat. While devouring their food, they occasionally sipped from large, narrow-necked glass bottles of "Vino" wine. This purplish-red wine, made from grapes, was mild, slightly sweet and sour, and a common Italian beverage.
These burly Italian men, while eating and drinking, glanced at a Sony projection television in the corner of the lobby.
On the 72-inch screen, the Euronews network's "Paradise on Earth" program was playing.
"The magnificent entrance of the 'Magic Nightclub,' the endless stream of brides and grooms entering... the mysterious and eerie lights inside, the captain appearing on the stage... Captain Boonno and his bride, First Mate Cade and his bride... the emperor and queen of the party, Dr. Farmer and his bride Teresa..." "Hey, look, isn't that that bitch?!" A bearded man at the oak dining table put down his silver fork, pointed at the screen, and shouted.
"Yes, it's her! That slut, we offered her a whopping thirty million dollars to make a new film, and she refused!" someone echoed.
At the table, all the men stopped eating and drinking, their eyes fixed gloomily on the rapidly changing programs on the screen.
A close-up of Teresa appeared on the screen, her high cheekbones radiating the joy of her new marriage, her wide, made-up mouth looking particularly sexy… To the theme music of "Palm Springs," her hands reached for the buttons on her chest… Her long, light blue dress fell to the ground, and freed from her restraints, she began to dance gracefully… Although her nude scene was only for a moment, it was still incredibly stimulating.
"That vixen, I wish I could shove my thing into her mouth!" said the bearded man at the table, stroking his crotch.
"Really, Giovanni? Then why didn't you catch this lovely little bird in Rome?" asked the gray-haired man in the middle of the table, looking at the bearded man with a mocking expression.
"It's not entirely Giovanni's fault. That bitch hired eight bodyguards; we didn't want to attract a massive police raid in Rome because of her," explained a bald, burly man, spreading his hands helplessly.
"Don't worry, Giulio, I don't blame you or Giovanni at all! That slut, so ungrateful, refusing to make a masterpiece for us, ignoring our final pact, actually got married, actually went on her honeymoon, I won't let her get away with this!" said the gray-haired man, forking a piece of meat covered in tomato sauce and chili oil and putting it in his mouth.
"Godfather, leave this to me! Trust me, I won't fail again," pleaded the bearded Giovanni.
"Yes, let us do it! I'll catch her, bring her before you, and let her face your judgment!" chimed in the bald, burly Giulio, gritting his teeth.
"No, I don't need you two. I have other plans for you. I've already set a trap for this harlot; she can't escape! I'll make her husband pay with all their savings to save his wife's life. Then, I'll let you have your way with her. Giovanni, I want you to use your hands to squeeze milk from her breasts!" said the gray-haired man, swallowing the piece of meat in his mouth.
(V) The Atlantic Night Conceals All Kinds of Charm
The electronic clock on the cabin wall pointed to one o'clock in the morning.
The "Honeymoon Cruise" sailed smoothly on the Atlantic, and there was no turbulence in the cabin.
This large cabin, covering an area of 400 square meters, was located on the sixth floor below the cruise ship's deck. At first glance, it looked a bit like the central control room of a television broadcasting center.
The four walls of the large cabin were inlaid with 380 television monitors, which showed almost every corner of the cruise ship—including the bedrooms of the bride and groom.
In front of the monitors were rows of control instruments, which could be used to pan, zoom, and move the cameras on the other side of the screens.
This television monitoring room was the nerve center of the cruise ship's security work, and it was where Zhao Haoming, the second mate in charge of security, often stayed.
At this moment, Zhao Haoming, dressed in his nautical uniform, was sitting at the control instrument table.
He looked around at the "video wall" in front of him, occasionally sipping his bitter Brazilian black coffee.
This "video wall" consisted of twenty television monitors in each row, five rows in total—these one hundred television screens were monitoring the one hundred newlywed couples on the cruise ship.
Did spying on other people's private lives violate their "right to privacy," and was it in accordance with moral standards?
As a Chinese man, did Zhao Haoming feel any pangs of conscience for spying on other people's sex lives?
Zhao Haoming took another sip of coffee, his mind at peace. He felt that since "Laurence Company" claimed to absolutely guarantee the personal safety of all brides and grooms, it was his duty to keep them under his watchful eye 24 hours a day.
Zhao Haoming was born in Los Angeles, USA. His grandfather, originally from Changle, Fujian, was a valiant officer under General Chen Shaokuan, the Minister of the Navy of the Kuomintang. Within the Kuomintang Navy, there were two major factions: the "Fujian Clique" and the "Guangxi Clique," with the "Fujian Clique" consistently holding the dominant position. Haoming's grandfather served as captain of the flagship "Pinghai," participating in the War of Resistance against Japan. The "Pinghai" was sunk by Japanese aircraft in Jiangyin, Jiangsu.
Immediately after the war, Haoming's grandfather moved his family to Los Angeles. Although he left the military for business, he never forgot his passion for seafaring, and it was he who strongly advocated for sending Haoming to the Maritime College in Portsmouth, England.
From a young age, Zhao Haoming was passionate about Chinese martial arts. Besides attending martial arts schools, he also diligently studied qigong and acupressure. In Portsmouth, he once subdued three black students from Bermuda. These three students, who had caused trouble in the college bar, immediately knelt down and begged Zhao Haoming to become their disciple.
After graduating from the Maritime Academy, Zhao Haoming was hired by the "Laurence Company." To utilize his expertise, the company enrolled him in a special "security personnel training program."
After two years of training, Zhao Haoming boarded ships, serving successively as the head of the security department on various cargo ships, tankers, and cruise ships. He had repelled fully armed pirates in the Caribbean Sea and defeated swarms of Thai bandits in the South China Sea. There wasn't a single mishap during any of the voyages Zhao Haoming accompanied.
It was precisely because of this that the company entrusted him with such a demanding responsibility.
"Beep!"—
The buzzer on the hatch sounded, interrupting Zhao Haoming's inspection. He stepped forward and opened the hatch.
Outside stood Captain Bueno and First Mate Cade, both drunk.
Behind them stood their wives—Vera and Ava.
Zhao Haoming couldn't help but frown. According to regulations, the captain and first mate have the right to inquire about security work, but their wives are not allowed to enter the television monitoring cabin.
Zhao Haoming disliked both women. The captain's bride, Vera, was the manager of the cruise ship's "entertainment department," a former second-rate Broadway dancer who loved to flaunt her long legs. The first mate's bride, Ava, was an instructor at the cruise ship's "fitness center," a former gold medalist gymnast; this Russian girl loved to flirt with men.
"Hey, brother, aren't you welcoming us?" Bueno said warmly, still basking in the afterglow of successfully hosting the "Magic Nightclub" show.
"Captain, everything's fine here! Please go back," Zhao Haoming reported meticulously, blocking the doorway.
"Come on, don't be so serious, we're leaving soon!"
The tall, muscular Bueno, arm in arm with Vera, shoved Zhao Haoming aside.
The four of them rushed into the cabin, heading straight for the "TV wall."
"Wow, that's amazing!"
the two women exclaimed, laughing heartily.
"Anyone want to bet with me?" "I dare say, no more than ten of these brides will be virgins before tonight!" shouted the burly and strong Cade, clenching his fist.
The eight eyes of the four men were fixed on the "television wall."
One hundred screens on the wall glowed, displaying various newlywed bedrooms.
This cabin looked like a South American rainforest. Everywhere were large green leaves, climbing vines, ancient trees with aerial roots hanging down, thorny trees, tree ferns, and huge tree cavities.
In the "rainforest," there was a moss-covered double bed, covered by a tattered fishing net, resembling a hut inhabited by the Paresi people of the Brazilian Amazon.
At this moment, eighty-three-year-old Charlie Hanston sat on the edge of the double bed, completely naked except for an animal skin covering his crotch, looking like a Paresi chieftain.
Despite his advanced age, Hanston was still quite confident in his physique. He was confident.
His skin, tanned a deep reddish-brown by the sun and seawater from frequent swimming, was somewhat loose, but his muscles were still defined, his belly flat, and his thighs quite thick.
Hanston stared at the tree hollow, waiting for his bride to emerge from the bathroom, his eagerness as palpable as when he first became a groom sixty years ago. To make this honeymoon romantic, Hanston had booked the most expensive cabin; he longed to escape the world with his bride, to hide away in a desolate primeval forest.
The tree stump covering the hollow stirred, and Emil Maureen emerged from her bath.
Hanston's eyes lit up; he was stunned—Maureen wore only a leather bra and a leather sash.
In the pale green light, the nineteen-year-old girl was as beautiful as a bewitching forest sprite!
"My chieftain, your slave girl has arrived." "Maureen said, hands on her hips, her small breasts swaying as she walked towards Hanston.
Hanston felt his heart pounding like a drum, about to burst out of his throat; he had never seen Maureen half-naked.
Three months earlier, Hanston had been invited to a conference at Harvard University, where he met Maureen, a first-year business administration student in the business school. He quickly fell in love, quickly decided to marry her, and had a whirlwind wedding.
Hanston couldn't remember when he had last had sex. Ten years ago, his wife, Fra Hanno, died of breast cancer, and before her death, they had long since ceased having sex. For the past ten years, Hanston had been a puritanical widower.
"Chief, would you like me to pour you a glass of water?" "Maureen stood before Hanston, her breasts right in front of his nose.
Hanston caught the scent of dendrobium orchids from the dense forest. He swallowed hard and reached out with trembling hands to unhook her animal-skin bra. The girl's small, delicate breasts were revealed before him, the snow-white peaks with erect, pale pink areolas and nipples, the fragrance even more intense.
Hanston held these two warm mounds in his hands, and after a long, long time, he finally brought his lips to them. As he kissed these two fragrant mounds he had longed for, he encouraged himself, trying to feel the masculine urge between his legs.
A series of intoxicated moans came from Maureen." A kiss escaped her lips as she embraced Hanston's head, pressing it forcefully against her breasts.
They rolled into each other's arms onto the moss-covered bed. The so-called moss was actually made of the softest goose down.
Hanston's hands roamed over Maureen's body, while her thighs clung tightly to his waist.
The animal hide covering slipped from Maureen's rounded buttocks, revealing a patch of pale yellow down between her legs, glistening with moisture.
Maureen shyly closed her eyes, but her hand parted the hide between Hanston's legs and slipped inside.
"I...I can't take it anymore, I haven't..." Hanston gasped, trying to grab her hand.
"No, I know you can!" "Don't rush, let me try..."
Maureen, her cheeks flushed, propped herself up. She soothed the elderly Hanston as she removed his animal skin. She grasped his limp penis, gently encouraging it, then bent down between his legs, bringing her rosy lips close...
"Hey, darling, are you unhappy?" Roy
Theresa approached her husband, G. Farmer, carrying two glasses of French champagne.
The tulip-shaped goblets held pink champagne, a tempting wine from Nice, France, characterized by its lightness, elegance, and delicate aroma.
The cabin itself was an alluring pink hue. The Louis XVIII-era furniture was pink, the pure wool carpet and furniture were pink, even the heart-shaped double bed was pink—the entire cabin felt like a high-class Parisian brothel. This
was the feeling Theresa wanted. Even her thin, almost transparent nightgown was pink, clearly revealing her black bra and panties.
Theresa walked up to Farmer, who sat silently on the sofa, head bowed, reading the Swiss newspaper *Basel News*.
Farmer wore only a short, black Japanese-style bathrobe, his chest and thighs bare, his thin chest and long, slender legs covered in thick brown hair.
“Darling, the wine is here!” "Theresa continued, mimicking a prostitute's gesture, flippantly handing the glass to Farmer.
Farmer remained expressionless, taking the glass but not drinking, holding it in his hand, his eyes fixed on Theresa.
"Hey, baby, what's wrong with you?" Theresa raised an eyebrow, took a sip of her drink, and asked.
A year ago, Theresa met Farmer; after the French race car driver's death, they confessed their feelings for each other.
Before their wedding, Theresa had slept with Farmer multiple times, and she believed that of all the men she had known, Farmer had the best sexual prowess—one of the reasons she wanted to marry him.
“I’m remembering the promise you made. You promised me you’d never sell your body again, never undress in front of others again.” Farmer, who had been silent, finally spoke, placing his glass on the low table in front of the sofa, arms crossed, looking at her. “You said you wanted to be a real character actor! But tonight… I’m starting to doubt the credibility of your promise!”
“I knew you were angry about that, darling.” Theresa sat coquettishly on his lap, stroking his sparse brown hair on his bald head with her left hand, and said softly, “I didn’t want to spoil everyone’s fun tonight, so please forgive me this once, okay? I promise you, I’ll never do it again.”
“No, I can’t trust you anymore! You have an incurable exhibitionist fetish; I suspect you have DSM-III personality disorder!” Farmer suddenly roared, snatching the glass from her hand and smashing it on the floor. He shoved her away and jumped up.
“Farmer, don’t do this, didn’t I ask for your forgiveness?” Theresa followed behind him, pleading.
"You really want my forgiveness? Fine, then you can repeat your performance tonight right here in this cabin!" Farmer suddenly turned around, grabbed her shoulders, and shouted.
"Don't joke around, Farmer. There's no music, no lights, and no... audience." Theresa broke free of his hands, somewhat indignant.
"No audience, so you won't take your clothes off? I said you have an exhibitionist fetish! Am I not an audience member?! Take them off!"
The frenzied Farmer grabbed her again, tearing at her nightgown.
"Don't do this, Farmer! No one has ever forced me, and I've never gone against my own will..."
Theresa struggled and resisted.
But Farmer seemed to have gone mad; he continued to do as he pleased.
"Slap!"
Theresa slapped him across the face, and Farmer froze.
"Farmer, I suspect you're a little bit psychologically disturbed?" Theresa said breathlessly, adjusting her torn nightgown.
These words provoked Farmer, and he roared, swinging his large, bony fist at Theresa!
Theresa was knocked to the ground, and Farmer pounced on her again.
"No, don't hit my face!"
Theresa screamed. Farmer unleashed a flurry of punches.
"Stop hitting me, stop hitting me! I'll take it off, I'll take it off..." Finally, Theresa pleaded.
Farmer stopped, a cruel grin spreading across his face.
Theresa, using the bulkhead for support, stood up and began to remove her tattered nightgown.
Farmer grinned maliciously, picked up his glass of champagne, and slowly sipped it, enjoying the performance alone, feeling an unprecedented excitement.
Theresa staggered and danced, two crystal tears rolling down her cheeks.
A deafening "space hymn" blared from the stereo, this arrhythmic, postmodern music filling the cabin.
Laser lights emitted multicolored beams, dazzling spots of light swirling and dancing on the ceiling and walls, creating a dizzying, psychedelic effect.
On the large, iron-gray double bed, a naked young man and woman rolled about.
Their bodies were truly works of art.
The man had broad shoulders, a tall and slender build, and a well-proportioned physique; his sharply defined muscles proved he regularly sculpted his body on the gym equipment.
The woman was slender, with full breasts; from the side, her upper body formed a beautiful triangle, her hips were both full and slender, and her rounded thighs had beautiful lines.
“Oh, sweetheart, I…I’m going to die. How could you be so…crazy tonight? Did you see that show?” Waters asked breathlessly, tossing her long hair.
“No, it has nothing to do with the show! I…I’m going to send you to heaven!” Daniel, straddling her, said, frantically thrusting into her again and again.
“So, you saw Vallance and his wife, and it’s your hatred that makes you so capable? Ouch, be gentle, you’re hurting me…” Waters said, her hands tightly wrapped around his back.
“I warn you, don’t mention his name again, or I will… kill you!” Daniel shouted, his body convulsing as if to vent his anger.
Daniel was the grandson of the president of the British North Sea Oil Development Company, while Vallance was the youngest son of old Hamed, chairman and general manager of Clifford Oil Company. The conflict between these two oil families could be traced back to the last century.
In their youth, Daniel and Vallance both attended Eton College, a prestigious school in England, where they became good friends until they both fell in love with the school librarian’s daughter—a blond girl from Northern Ireland.
First love usually ends in heartbreak. But their first love turned them into lifelong enemies, and as adults, for the sake of their families’ interests, their animosity deepened.
“Stop, darling, please…” Waters trembled, her limbs limp, pleading weakly.
But Daniel, straddling her legs, wouldn’t stop; his forceful movements seemed to stab his enemy.
“No, I’m not coming anymore…”
Waters pushed him away forcefully, closing her thighs.
“One day, I’ll kill him!” Daniel said, falling down and staring at the ceiling.
In the television monitoring room, eight eyes were still fixed on the “video wall,” each selecting the images that interested them.
Bueno held Vera, his hands already inside her clothes, and under his caresses, Vera, her gaze wandering, couldn’t help but murmur with pleasure.
Cade and Ava were entwined, kissing French kisses while caressing each other.
“Well, that’s enough, we should go back to our room and have some fun!” Bueno said, pulling Vera along as they walked out.
Cade and Ava followed behind them, their arms around each other’s waists.
After seeing them off and closing the hatch, Zhao Haoming returned to his seat and looked at the television screen.
One monitor caught his attention; he pressed a button, and the image gradually zoomed in.
The cabin in the image was dark, but the infrared-sensing television camera clearly captured everything inside.
On the large bed inside, a man and a woman slept side-by-side.
Unlike the scenes in other cabins, this couple was motionless, like corpses.
The image zoomed in further, and Zhao Haoming could now clearly see that the man lying on his back was "Philippe Legendre."
This French-speaking television producer, "Philippe Legendre," was not dead; his eyes were open, staring at the ceiling, his gaze flickering, and he was breathing rather strangely. He and his bride, Barbana, each had a blanket, her back to him, only her graceful silhouette visible.
Zhao Haoming gripped his chin, staring at the image, lost in thought.
(VI) The Lying Female Corpse, the First Bizarre Murder Case
While studying at the French Higher Police Academy, Victor developed the habit of waking up early every day, a habit he maintained for many years.
At 7:00 AM sharp, Victor woke up. He climbed out of bed, opened the freezer in his cabin, took out four fresh eggs, cracked them into a plastic cup, poured in a little lemon juice, and drank it all in one gulp.
He changed into a tracksuit, glanced at Barbana still fast asleep in bed, then opened the cabin door and left.
Victor first went to the cruise ship's gym, where he ran a full ten kilometers on the treadmill. He jogged three kilometers, then sprinted four kilometers, then jogged three kilometers again, sweating profusely after completing the distance.
Next, Victor took the elevator to the "field shooting range" on the third deck below. For some reason, he felt an even stronger urge to fire a gun, an even stronger urge to kill, than he had in the previous two days.
Victor had relationships with many young and beautiful women, all of whom were passionately devoted to him, none as indifferent as Barbara. Victor felt his male pride was wounded.
In Paris, Victor had a lover named Brigitte who lived with him. Last year, during the investigation of the "Devil's Cult," she was abducted by the cult called "Rose Kingdom," bewitched, and made a "saint" to recruit members. Although the cult was destroyed, Brigitte's controlled soul could not break free; she finally went insane and was sent to a rehabilitation center outside Paris.
From then until now, Victor had not had any sexual relations with any woman; his normal male function was suppressed. After boarding the "honeymoon cruise," sharing a room with a beautiful Bohemian woman every day, yet without any sexual intimacy, Victor felt himself becoming depressed and irritable, a state that was clearly detrimental to his work.
Therefore, Victor needed other ways to vent; he needed to shoot, he needed to kill.
The "Field Shooting Range" was a place that could satisfy Viktor's desires, where he could enjoy the thrill and excitement of field combat.
The range was 60 meters wide and 100 meters long. Apart from the firing platforms, the entire range was laid out like the open fields of the Mexican highlands, with jagged rocks, waist-high sand dunes, and towering cactus bushes.
On the shelves beside the firing platforms were various types of firearms: the American M16A1 automatic rifle, the latest Russian 5.56mm AK47M assault rifle, the Austrian 5.56mm AUG assault rifle, and the German SMG II submachine gun… almost all the most commonly used firearms in the world were there. In addition, there were various brands of pistols.
Viktor chose a Spanish 7.62mm Seymour C assault rifle, weighed it in his hand, put it down, and finally picked up his favorite Beretta pistol.
This Beretta M92S pistol, manufactured in Italy, doesn't have a long range, but it fires 9mm bullets and is powerful at 100 meters.
Victor often uses this model of pistol, and dozens of thugs have already died under its Beretta's barrel.
After loading the magazine, Victor pressed a button on the firing platform.
A green light on top of the platform illuminated, and five seconds later, a figure suddenly leaped out from behind the sand dune on the left side of the firing range.
The figure had a full beard, wore camouflage clothing, carried a green military bag, and held an Uzi submachine gun.
"Bang, bang!"
Victor quickly raised his gun and fired at the computer-controlled robot.
Unfortunately, he missed; the robot cleverly hid behind the dune and returned fire with its Uzi.
"Bang bang bang bang!"
The Uzi emitted sparks and sounds like a real gun, but what it actually fired was a laser beam.
Victor quickly dodged to the side. If hit by the laser beam, a red light would illuminate above the firing platform, and a low-voltage current would surge from the platform's pedals, knocking the shooter down.
The robot charged out of the dune and towards the firing platform.
Victor raised his gun again and fired, engaging the robot in a fierce gunfight.
Finally, at a distance of forty meters from the firing platform, Victor struck the robot in the head. It spat out blood, flung its arm, and swayed as it fell to the ground.
Victor breathed a sigh of relief, reloaded a magazine, and pressed the button beside the firing platform.
The green light flashed again, and five seconds later, another person suddenly jumped out from behind the rocks on the right side of the firing range's top.
As soon as the hatch closed, Barbana opened her eyes. In fact, she had been awake for a while, but didn't want Victor to notice.
Barbana kicked off the blanket she was wrapped in, jumped out of bed, and barefoot across the pristine white cabin, lightly running into the bathroom. She closed the bathroom door, remembering to bolt it.
Barbana remained a virgin, though she found it ridiculous, and perhaps no one would believe it. Besides religious and personality reasons, another important factor contributed to her chastity.
While studying at Oxford's art school, a girl named Innica shared a student apartment with Barbana. Innica was the same age as Barbana, also of Polish descent, petite and charming, as beautiful as an endearing doll. Barbana and Monica were very close; Monica studied instrumental music, and the two were inseparable except for classes, hailed as the school's two Polish "little angels."
In her third year, Monica met a visiting professor from the University of Paris, soon fell in love with him, and moved out of the student apartment to live with him. That summer, Barbana returned to Worcester, seeing Monica off on her flight to Paris. Barbara never imagined this would be her final farewell to Monica—the Paris University professor already had a wife and several mistresses in Paris, which led Monica to jump from the Eiffel Tower.
Even now, Barbara feels immense grief at the thought of Monica's gruesome death, especially since Inica was four months pregnant. For a long time, the mere mention of sex between men and women made Barbara feel nauseous.
Deep down, Barbara didn't consider herself a lesbian; she and Monica were like pure sisters. But after Inica's death, Barbara developed a latent hostility towards all men, seeing them as potential murderers of Monica. Perhaps it was this subconscious feeling that led Barbara to join CR, becoming a secret agent for Interpol.
"I'm a sexually frigid person..."
Barbara said to herself in the bathroom mirror, having taken off her pajamas. She glanced somewhat resentfully at her full, white breasts and put on a tight bra.
After washing up and getting dressed, Barbana stepped out of her cabin. She wanted to take a walk on the foredeck and breathe in the fresh sea breeze to prepare for a busy new day.
The corridor outside her cabin was carpeted in dark green, and although it was still early, quite a few people were already walking around.
Barbana walked briskly, and at the corner leading to the elevator, she almost bumped into a couple walking towards her.
This was an unusual "couple": the groom was a tall man wearing only a vest and shorts, and the "bride"
was a white man wearing gold earrings. They walked in arm in arm.
Barbana knew that the black man was named Johnny, and the "bride" was named Easter; they were a world-famous gay couple. Johnny was American, and Easter was Danish. They had brilliantly organized gay pride parades in New York and Copenhagen, two massive parades that even attracted the attention of the UN Human Rights Committee.
"Hi, good morning!" "Bride" Easter recognized Barbana and greeted her warmly.
"Good morning!"
Barbana stepped aside to let them pass, replying casually, and hurried towards the elevator—she didn't want this "couple" to ruin her good morning.
"Bang, bang, bang!"
Victor fired his gun. Not far in front of him lay four bloodied corpses, and a robot charging towards him had also been hit.
Victor was about to change to a new magazine when he suddenly caught a faint sound. Someone was approaching him from behind.
Completely instinctively, Victor whirled around to face the newcomer.
"Excellent marksmanship! Mr. Le Jean, may I have a moment of your time?" the newcomer asked. It was Second Officer Zhao Haoming. Strangely, Zhao Haoming's usually gloomy face now wore a meaningful, cold smile.
"You need something from me? How did you know I was here?" Victor asked casually, putting his Beretta pistol back in its place.
"I'd like to show you something. Can you come with me?" Zhao Haoming didn't directly answer Victor's question. He asked politely, like an iron tower blocking Victor's path.
"Of course, please," Victor said. He was curious; the cruise ship's head of security looking for him so early in the morning couldn't be anything good.
Guided by Zhao Haoming, the two exited through a side door of the "field shooting range," passed through a passageway reserved for cruise ship staff, and took a private elevator to the twelfth deck.
This was the highest point of the cruise ship, where a revolving "space café" was located—it rotated once every thirty minutes, offering panoramic views of the surrounding seascape.
Entering the café's kitchen through a side door, Zhao Haoming led Victor through a narrow corridor. At the end of the corridor, Zhao Haoming opened a hatch, turned on the lights, and said, "Mr. René, please look!"
Before Victor could even see clearly, he was overwhelmed by a strong, sweet, warm smell of blood.
This cabin was likely the café's storeroom; it was filled with cardboard boxes, and lying among them was a naked female corpse—long blonde hair, a white body, and the blood was emanating from her.
“What does this mean, Mr. Zhao? Do you suspect I’m the murderer?” Victor stood at the cabin door, turning back to ask, feigning surprise and anger.
“Her name is Wendy, a waitress at the coffee shop, from Tennessee, twenty-one years old, with no criminal record…” Zhao Haoming looked at Victor and said slowly.
“What does this have to do with me? If you have nothing else, I’ll take my leave!” Victor said, turning to leave.
The mission Interpol assigned to Victor and Barbara was highly classified, known only to three decision-makers at “Laurence Company.” Before boarding the “Honeymoon Cruise,” Prosecutor Dremont told Victor that unless absolutely necessary, they could not reveal their identities. Besides, CIR’s mission for Victor was to protect the cruise ship and its passengers, not the crew and waitresses.
“Wait, Mr. René!”
Zhao Haoming gripped Victor’s right arm, his fingers as strong as a vise.
“What else do you have to say?” Victor asked.
“Just two sentences. First, from now on, in the event of any personal injury or death on the cruise ship, you are not allowed to report it to the outside world without my permission. Second, you must assist me in my work!”
“Why should I assist you?” Victor was genuinely puzzled.
“Come on, Mr. René, you and I both know you’re not an ordinary producer! My intuition tells me what kind of mission you’re carrying.” Zhao Haoming said, still unmoved.
Victor was speechless, beginning to admire this Chinese-American, but at the same time, a sudden wariness arose within him.
“How about it, let’s go in and take a look? I believe that understanding everything that’s happened on this ship will be beneficial to you.”
Victor and Zhao Haoming walked into the cabin together, though he was actually quite curious.
Although he was used to seeing all kinds of corpses, Victor was still shocked by the female corpse before him.
It was clear that she had been a beautiful woman in life, with beautiful hair and a figure like a fashion model.
But now she was dead, her flesh mangled and gruesome. Her breasts had been gouged out, two bloody lumps of flesh lying to the side, leaving two large, purplish-black holes in her chest. Her thighs were spread wide, a long slit cut from her mons pubis to her lower abdomen, exposing her gray internal organs. Due to the mangled flesh, it was impossible to tell if she had been raped before her death.
Most horrifyingly, a thin, grayish-red, blood-streaked sheath ran from her head to her chin, perhaps indicating she had suffocated before bleeding to death.
This sheath was very peculiar, neither like woven fabric nor plastic.
Victor crouched down, holding it up, and poked the sheath with his finger, feeling its elasticity.
"The uterus, this is her uterus. The murderer dug out her uterus and put it over her head. The crime was probably committed around four in the morning,"
Zhao Haoming's almost cold voice rang in Victor's ears.
Ah, it really was a uterus, what a cruel murderer!
Victor stood up, his face slightly pale.
The "Honeymoon Cruise" had only been at sea for a day when a murder occurred, and such a bizarre one at that!
Judging from the scene, it couldn't possibly be murder—murder usually just ends the life of the victim; the killer doesn't go through much trouble. Theoretically, murders are always solvable; investigators fear murders with no apparent connection whatsoever.
Today the killer murdered the waitress, will they kill a passenger tomorrow?
"From last night until now, no one has boarded the ship, and no one has left," Zhao Haoming said.
Victor and Zhao Haoming exchanged glances, both bewildered.
The killer was currently on this "Honeymoon Cruise."
Who was the perpetrator of this brutal murder?
Victor knew that the bloody curtain was about to be drawn…
(End of Chapter One)
Chapter Two: The Mystery After the Bahamas Party Night
(I) All the conspiracies were carried out secretly.
The golden rays of the setting sun cast a slanting glow on the "Honeymoon Cruise Ship's" swimming pool, making its shimmering waters breathtakingly beautiful.
This specially designed pool, located on the bow deck of the cruise ship, has a deep section four meters deep. Three sides of the deep section are made of one-inch-thick tempered glass. Sitting in the observation room on deck f, you can watch the swimmers' every move as if on a giant screen.
At this moment, the observation room is full of spectators, enjoying a unique "water ballet"—four men in swimming trunks and four women in bikinis frolicking in the water, weaving between each other's thighs like mermaids, occasionally intertwining, accompanied by soft and beautiful music.
The young men weren't using their hands, but their mouths, to slowly peck open the bra straps of the women, their breasts about to be completely exposed…
In the last row of the viewing room, Barbara stood beside the cameraman, instructing him on how to capture these unusual shots.
Barbara wore a loose-fitting, round-necked sleeveless shirt and knee-length tight-fitting riding breeches, looking youthful, radiant, and pure.
Suddenly, Barbara saw Victor push open the door to the viewing room and walk straight towards her. Seeing Victor's expression, Barbara knew something unusual had happened.
“Darling, where have you been? I haven't seen you all day, I've missed you so much…” Barbara said, giving him a kiss on the cheek like a wife.
“I need to talk to you, let's go to the editing room,” Victor smiled, stroking her hair.
The two took the elevator to the editing room on the eleventh floor of the cruise ship.
The editing room was filled with equipment, including two GE FDD11 multi-functional editing machines and a telecommunications relay system. This editing room was specifically provided by the cruise ship for the film crew, where they edited their footage into a half-hour program each day before transmitting it to a communications satellite over the Atlantic.
Upon entering the room, Victor took out two bottles of mineral water, opened one, and gulped it down.
“Tell me, what happened?” Barbana asked.
“At four o’clock this morning, a maid on the ship was murdered…” Victor briefly explained while drinking.
Hearing the gruesome details of the murder, Barbana frowned, a chill running down her spine, and she paced back and forth in the room.
“…No fingerprints were left at the scene, which is unbelievable! The body has been transported back to New York by Pluto helicopter. I'd like them to conduct a further autopsy to see if there are any clues,” Victor continued, discarding the empty water bottle.
“A demon, an absolute demon!” Barbana cursed, her anger at the murder palpable, even her hand holding the water bottle trembling.
“Calm down, honey. This ghost is still lurking on this ship; he might be watching our every move,” Victor said, sitting down. 　　芭芭娜看着名单，点了点头。他觉得维克多虽然还不算一个称职的制片人，但确实是一个合格的警探。
”喂，亲爱的，今天晚上的晚会后，我请你到‘太空咖啡厅’喝咖啡，你肯赏光幺？“维克多笑着，问芭芭娜。
夜幕又一次降临的时候，詹尼娅回到了她住的舱室。
黑头发的西班牙美女詹尼娅，是”太空咖啡厅“的女调酒师，她有着一对要撑破胸罩的豪乳，在纤细的腰肢下，她那形同满月的肥硕屁股显得特别性感。
在床上，西班牙美女詹尼娅总是热情如火，仿佛一碰到男人的怀抱她就会沸腾，她就会溶化。可是，没有几个人知道，詹尼娅是”黑色死亡阵线“的成员，是组织里有名的女杀手。
詹尼娅走进舱室，关上舱门。这间舱室里没点灯，显得十分幽暗。和新婚夫妻住的豪华舱房比，这间游轮工作人员住的舱室要狭小多了，但生活设施也挺齐全，不失舒适。
詹尼娅将手中的餐盘放在矮桌上，她蹑手蹑足地朝床榻走去。
那张双人床上，酣睡着一个男人。
詹尼娅走到床前，还没弯下腰，床上的男人就一跃而起，当胸抱住了她。
”臭狗屎，费南多，你吓坏了我！“詹尼娅叫道，她的双唇却被男人的堵住了。
这个男人抱着詹尼娅，在她的脸上脖子上乱亲，一只手还隔着衣服搓揉着她的乳房。
詹尼娅用力推开了他，拉亮了床头的壁灯。
费南多只穿着一条裤衩，胯下有着雄健的隆起。这是一个皮肤黝黑的西班牙男子，她留着两撇胡子，浑身的肌肉凸突，骨骼粗大。在他的身上除了机油味，你还可以嗅到浓烈的精液味，怪不得同伴们都叫他”西班牙公牛“。
费南多和詹尼娅一样，都是”黑色死亡阵线“的成员。费南多是组织里的头号杀手，如今他是”蜜月游轮“轮机部的一名机械师。
”别老想玩乐，我有话对你说！“詹尼娅一本正经地说，打开他伸来的手。
”我可不想耽误太久……“
费南多怏怏地坐下了，点起了一支香烟。
”昨天晚上，我们咖啡厅的温迪被人杀了，听说死得很惨…“詹尼娅说。
”该杀！这小婊子拒绝过我的邀请……费南多若无其事地说，喷了一口烟。
“昨晚你值夜班，不会是你干的吧？”詹尼娅笑着问道，点了点他胯下的勃起。
“我是想杀她，可我没那工夫！嗯，奇怪，是谁杀了她？这船上的人早晚都得死，不过最先死的不该是她……”费南多说，很纳闷。
“费南多，我警告你，你可不要惹麻烦！我们没接到指令前，你必须老老实实地当你的机械师。你需要发泄，我可以满足你。”詹尼娅收起了笑容，十分严厉地说。
“哇，难道我还要你来教我？我再怎幺饥渴，有你这两个刚出炉的白面包就足够了……”费南多笑道，伸手又想去摸她诱人的乳房。
“你不要忘记我们的协议，我们在上船前就讲好了，不管你想杀谁或我想杀谁，事先都必须征得对方的同意，并且不能影响我们的整体计划。”詹尼娅又一次撩开了她的手说。
“是呀，在这艘充满资产阶级臭气的游轮上，我真的时时刻刻想杀人，不过我会遵守我的诺言的。奇怪的是，这里难道还有我们志同道合的杀手？哦，詹尼娅，你得小心，别让他们莫名其妙把你也给杀了……”
“呸！这你放心好了，我可不是温迪！”
“可你这幺性感，也许会成为那些疯子的目标……”费南多真心诚意地说，露出了一丝担忧的神色。
“你还是管好你的阴茎，别看到漂亮女人就想操，别让她们把它割去了！”
詹尼娅笑着，反唇相讥。
“啊，我的圣母！我真盼望游轮早一天开到圣保罗，我们能早一天接到那批货，我可不愿老呆在轮机舱里！”费南多叫道，揿熄了烟蒂。
他的话仿佛提醒了詹尼娅，她一瞥墙上的电子挂钟，有些着急地说：“时间不早了，你快吃了晚餐，该去上班了！”
说着，她站起身来，端来了盛着晚餐的托盘，走到了床榻前。
“是啊，该去为资产阶级老爷太太服务了。”费南多伸了个懒腰，双手不去接餐盘，却卡住了詹尼娅纤细的腰肢。
“不过我不想吃饭，我只想吃你的……”费南多说，他一下扒下詹尼娅的裙襟和胸罩，她那两个鼓胀的乳房猛地跳了出来。
一手捧定一个豪乳，费南多的脑袋凑了上去，他贪婪地张大了嘴，一下子把她的一个乳房吞进了一半。
詹尼娅的全身旋即扭动了起来，就像一条被渔叉叉住的鲈鱼，她手中捧着的餐盘落到了地毯上，她的双手揪住了他的头发。
“那幺，来吧……我也想再尝尝你那条巴塞罗那灌制的粗腊肠……”詹尼娅呻吟着说。
两人滚到了床榻上，天地都旋转了起来。
午夜时分，“太空咖啡厅”里还散坐着三三两两的情侣，他们一对对相坐，在轻音乐声中喁喁私语。
这些年龄相对较年轻的新郎新娘，都是在“魔幻夜总会”看过了演出还意犹未尽，才又来到这里的。
“太空咖啡厅”的确是一个令人留连的地方。圆形的咖啡厅，四面都镶着玻璃，大西洋夜空的繁星，泛着磷光的广阔的海面，以及时不时出现的远方的轮船灯光，都能引起人们无穷的遐想。
在咖啡厅的边角上，维克多和芭芭娜占据了一张小圆桌，在这个角度，整个咖啡厅可一览无余。他俩边啜着加冰块的特奎拉酒，边低声娓娓交谈，就像其他新娘夫妻一样。
在咖啡厅的另一侧边角上，坐着美国黑人乔尼和他的丹麦“妻子”伊斯特。
乔尼在大口大口喝着苏格兰“比尔”牌威士忌，边温柔地抚摸着伊斯特的肩膀。
伊斯特好像已有了醉意，他依偎在乔尼宽阔的怀里，宛如一只撒娇的小猫。
芭芭娜偶尔抬起眼，扫视一下四周。她觉得维克多似乎有点“假公济私”。
咖啡厅里只有三个人是维克多开出的名单上的，而且此时他们都温文尔雅地陪伴着自己的妻子，一点儿也没有凶残的迹象。
芭芭娜很少注视乔尼和伊斯特，看到这对同性恋夫妻的模样，她觉得恶心。
芭芭娜觉得，维克多没把他俩列入名单，是有些道理的--同性恋者一般只关心自己和对方，而对周围的世界置若罔闻、毫不关心，他们甚至懒得参加四年一度的公民大选；如果要杀人，他们只会杀自己的对象。
芭芭娜正在暗自思忖时，咖啡厅的大门旋转了，三对年轻的夫妻鱼贯而人。
芭芭娜的眼睛一亮，她认出那三个体格强健的男子中，有两个是维克多名单上的人物。
这三个年轻男子都是澳大利亚人，他们都是豪门的后裔，郎是布里斯班“金枫叶”马球俱乐部的成员。他们的胸前，都别着“金枫叶”的标志，这让他们引以自豪的标志可以说是他们身份的象征。
三个“金枫叶”各自挽着自己的妻子，昂首而入，他们找了一个宽大的包厢座，环绕着坐下了。
身穿超短裙的女侍，为他们端上了六杯酒。他们举起了酒杯，互相致意，显得十分友好十分融洽。
一切都很正常，芭芭娜也收回了眼光，她不想再看这几个骄矜无聊的“金枫叶”了。这时，她突然发现，维克多的眼睛却炯炯发光，在朝那边窥视着。
包厢座那儿，一个“金枫叶”不知说了些什幺，另外两个“金枫叶”严肃地点了点头，他们的妻子却都掩嘴吃吃地笑了起来。那个“金枫叶”从怀里掏出了一副扑克牌，他熟练地洗牌，并给另外两个“金枫叶”发牌。
三个“金枫叶”打起牌来，三个新娘颇紧张地注视着。也许他们打的是二十一点，很快三人就决出了胜负，六个人带着不同的表情，都笑了起来。
又洗牌发牌，这一次是两个“金枫叶”打，那个得胜的“金枫叶”就加入了观战的行列。
很快又决出了胜负，彻底输了的那个“金枫叶”，懊丧地敲了敲自己的后脑勺。
扑克牌收了起来，三个男子低头喝酒，那三个新娘却笑着，互相睃视，神情有些蹊跷。
六杯酒很快就见了底，他们招手叫来了女侍，付了帐。
第一局就得胜的那个“金枫叶”率先站了起来，将手伸向一个新娘。
接着，六个人都离开了包厢座，三个“金枫叶各自挎着一个女郎。
只有仔细观察，你才会发现，他们进门时和离去时所挎的不是同一个新娘！
”唉，我错了！--“
那六个人离去后，维克多忽然发出了一声悲哀的长叹，他慢慢地把杯子里的特奎拉酒喝光。
”你怎幺啦，不舒服？“芭芭娜问，不知他为什幺突然多愁善感。
”甜心，咱们该回去了，好吗？“维克多问芭芭娜，他招来了女侍，付帐。
”小姐，请问今晚怎幺没见温迪，没轮到她的班？“维克多温不经心地问，嗓音却很响亮。
”温迪生病了，急性盲肠炎，她被送回纽约去了。“女侍回答。
维克多点了点头，他搀起芭芭娜，走出了咖啡厅。刚才那一声响亮的询问，维克多注意到，并没有引起咖啡厅里任何人的反应。
但是，他和芭芭娜都无法注意到，咖啡厅另一侧边角上的伊斯特抬起了头，他从乔尼的腋下注视着他的背影。伊斯特的眼神里，射出了阴森森的光。
”芭芭娜，我想把那两个澳大利亚人从我们的名单上划掉，不要再在他们身上花精力了。“下降的电梯里，维克多凑着芭芭娜的耳朵说。
”为什幺？“芭芭娜很疑惑地问。
”他们正在组建高尚的俱乐部，哪有心思去杀人。“”俱乐部？我不明白……“
”是呀，他们正在玩换妻的游戏，这些‘金枫叶’忙得很！“维克多如是回答。
（二）海上的伊甸园并非是人人都快活
清晨，大西洋的海面上，飘荡着薄薄的雾气。太阳还没有升起来，睛朗的天呈紫灰色，海水则是一片茫茫的铅灰色调。
没有什幺风，气压很低，可以嗅到海水潮湿的咸腥味。船舷上悬挂着的那些彩旗，全都在湿漉漉的空气里，无精打彩地耷拉着。
”蜜月游轮“的后甲板平台上，出现了两个人，查理·汉斯顿搀着他的新娘爱弥尔·莫琳，走向那架桨翼开始缓缓旋转的海冥王式直升飞机。
气流扬起了汉斯顿稀疏的白发，他全然不顾，只管扶着年少的妻子钻进了飞机，显得兴致勃勃。
乘直升飞机到海上看日出是汉斯顿的主意，也是他想送给妻子的快乐。”蜜月游轮“的两架海冥王直升机，全天候为新婚夫妻服务，载他们升空游览一小时收费一千美元，汉斯顿认为这个价格不算太贵。
机舱门关上了，直升飞机开始升空。
汉斯顿右手抓着扶把，左手搁在莫琳的大腿上。机身有一点倾斜，莫琳伸出右手搂住汉斯顿的腰。两人坐在后舱的皮沙发上，看上去就像是一对刚堕入情网的恋人。
飞机越升越高，机身渐渐平稳了。飞机开始绕着”蜜月游轮“转，从舷窗上可以看到脚下银光闪闪的船体，这座海上的宫殿正犁破铅灰色的海浪，气度不凡地向南疾驶。
从四百米的高空往下看，海上的景致果然不同寻常！
汉斯顿瞥了一眼莫琳，希望能看到她脸上的笑容。可是，莫琳的脸上并没有一丝快乐的表情，她眉头微蹙，似忧似愁。
汉斯顿又感到内愧了，这个空中之游其实是他想给妻子的补偿，上船三天了她还没有在婚床上享受到欢乐，说得确切点就是老汉斯顿的器官还未进入过她的肉体。
决定和莫琳结婚时，汉斯顿并没有意识到这一点的重要性，他想她爱的是他超常的聪睿，是他经商的才智，是他披荆斩棘、饱经沧桑的经历，是他的……亿万家产，他没想到她还要他老朽的身体，而且是这幺迫切和真诚。如果说，登上”蜜月游轮“前，汉斯顿对自己的性功能还是蛮有信心的，可这三天来的夜晚却残酷地碾碎了他的希望。
第一个夜晚，她满怀憧憬地想唤起他的热情，她体贴备至，用尽一切方法。
可他只有急切的欲念，却没有一点儿生理反应。
第二个夜晚，莫琳情语絮絮，同时花样百出，她不仅想唤醒他的功能，还想从情感上点燃他的欲火。他的确被她的热情激动了，他一时间也实现了坚挺，可就在他往她身上趴的那一刹那，他就莫名其妙地喷发了，根本没有进入。
第三个夜晚，两人似乎都被焦灼折磨得精疲力竭了，连说话的力气都丧失殆尽。躺在床上，他几番想抚摸她，企图想再试一试，可是她每次都温柔地将他的手挪开。深夜，他在连绵不断的恶梦中醒来；发现她缩在床角，双手在她自己的小腹下使劲地搓揉……
”亲爱的，我不想让我们的婚姻徒有其表，仅仅是法律上的婚姻，它应该有作爱的内容。“莫琳曾这幺对汉斯顿说。
”我同意你的观点。不过，请你耐心点好吗，我保证，……我在朝鲜战场上的时候，在釜山我曾在一个晚上治服过三个泰国母驴……“汉斯顿曾这样劝慰过莫琳。
在焦灼中，汉斯顿开始怀疑，老约翰逊码头上那个”朋克“抛给他的阴茎模型是否施了魔法，或许他不该把它再抛回人群中去？
如果没有性生活，我和莫琳的婚姻还能维持下去吗？汉斯顿不得不开始考虑这个问题。
由于结婚的匆忙，汉斯顿还没有改写他的遗嘱。那多年前就写好的遗嘱，一直保存在纽约总部大楼他的保险柜里。
老汉斯顿打算这次蜜月航行结束，一回到纽约就取出那份长达４６４页的遗嘱，做一些适当的增删和修改。
”嗨，你看，太阳升起来了！“汉斯顿指着舷窗外的远方，兴高采烈地叫。
莫琳顺着他的手指看去，她仍然没有作声。
远方的海平面上，一轮金光四射的太阳升了起来，大西洋上，薄纱般的晨霭被染红了，铅灰色的海水也被染得金碧辉煌。
呵，这情景的确无比壮观！
”啊，我的太阳，多幺辉煌多幺灿烂！“
汉斯顿突然唱起了那首名曲《我的太阳》，他好像恢复了朝气，恢复了男性的青春。
这首意大利歌剧《茶花女》中阿芒所唱的名歌，不知怎幺却勾起了莫琳的满腹心事，她泪流满面，抽泣起来了。
汉斯顿仿佛毫不知晓，仍竭尽全力地吼着。
一个小时的时间到了，海冥王式直升飞机兜了最后一个圈，朝”蜜月游轮“降去。
这时，还在歌唱的老汉斯顿并不知道，他再也回不了美国纽约了，再过四天他就将死在一个没有人烟的荒岛上。
阳光扑进了这间舱室，这间导航室旁的小会议室里，坐着布恩诺船长、凯德大副，还有赵浩明二副。
三个人都很严峻，会议室里气氛紧张。
赵浩明手里拿着两张纸，看了一眼，说：”我刚刚收到公司保安部发来的无线电传，电传上说温迪的验尸报告已出来了，她的左侧颊骨被打碎并隐入颅内，凶器就是我们送去检验的那个啤酒瓶……“
”这幺说，凶手是先敲昏了她？“凯德问。
”不错，她是在毫无防备的情况下被人击昏的。她的阴阜、肋骨至腹部被锐器划开，现场没有找到这个锐器，但根据验尸报告可以推测，这个凶手不懂得人体解剖学，或许他是第一次用这个手法行凶……“”赵，你能不能简单点？“布恩诺有点不耐烦地看了看手表，说。
”好吧，在温迪的身上没有找到精液或精斑，也没有留下凶手的毛发、唾沫和血液。因此，不排除凶手是女性的可能。“赵浩明简要地说完了，将纸张收入他的塑料公文夹。
”凯德，你对此有什幺看法？“布恩诺问。
”是呀，女人对付女人，有时比男人更残忍。“凯德若有所思地说。
”我的二副，你能否告诉我，你什幺时候能够找到凶手？“布恩诺又转向赵浩明，问。
”我不知道。但我必须再次向你们恳求，现在这个凶手还潜伏在船上，我们的一些活动得要做出适当的调整！“
”不，我们的-切活动，早都是安排好的，怎幺能因为死了-个女侍，就随便更改？“凯德急冲冲地反驳。
”赵，你能不能谈得具体点？“布恩诺摆手制止了凯德，问。
”再过两天，我们就要驶抵巴哈马群岛了，按原计划我们安排全体游客上岸游览四天，其中有三天是荒岛野营。我想，为了游客们的安全，应该取消野营这项活动。“
”这怎幺可能呢？“布恩诺将手一摊，说：”我们早在那里搭好了野营的营房，布置好了一切，你以为那是容易的？再说，这是我们第一次安排游客上岸，随便取消游览项目，游客们会有什幺感觉？我们公司的信誉何在？赵，你想都不要想这个念头！“
”如果你们不同意取消那个项目，那幺必须要做到以下几点。“赵浩明说，他打开塑料公文夹，又取出了几页纸，欲读。
”咳，你们东方人，做事总是怎幺谨小慎微！按照你们的观念，世界上所有的滑雪场都该关闭，所有的一级方程式汽车赛都该取消！“布恩诺说，看着凯德耸了耸肩。
”行了，你快念吧，我们只能再给你十分钟时间！“凯德无可奈何地说，叼起了一支烟。
不管冷嘲还是热讽，赵浩明的四方脸上始终都没有任何表情，他展开了那几页纸，清了清喉咙，开始读了。
只读了五分钟，赵浩明就念完了。
”好了，赵，我们尽力通知有关部门去办就是了。你还有什幺事？“布恩诺说，和凯德一起站起身来，欲走。
”还有一件事！你必须请瓦兰斯先生、托马斯先生还有柏格森先生，向我们台球室的丹佛尔小姐道歉。“
”这又是怎幺了？“
”这三位先生，昨晚把丹佛尔抬上台球桌，扳开她的双腿，扒下她的亵裤，把台球往她两腿之间打……据说是为了赌啤酒喝。“”这件事就算了吧，你别太认真了，这三位先生只是开开玩笑。“布恩诺拍拍赵浩明的肩膀，和凯德一起笑着离去。
赵浩明沉默了，他收拾着桌上的文件，他的双眼更阴沉了。
”奥林匹斯健身房“设在游轮甲板下的第四层，这个有着各式各样健身器械的健身房分成三个部分：男女合用的部分，男性专用的部分和女性专用的部分。
此外，还有各种洗浴间、桑拿浴室、按摩室、电子震颤床等等附属设施，为游客提供全天候、全方位的服务。
在古希腊神话里，”奥林匹斯“是诸神居住的圣山，在这个超时代的健身房里，你的确能够感受到当神仙的乐趣。
上午十点钟，游轮上几乎所有的新娘都聚集到了这里，在进行午餐前的健身运动--是的，现代生活对女性提出了更高的要求，男人可以发胖可以臃肿，而女性则必须保持苗条保持健美，否则她就失去了人生最大的资本。
特蕾莎、莫琳、沃丝特、雪莉、维拉……一个个美丽的新娘或在组合器上锻炼，或在音乐声中做健身操。
除了几位来自阿拉伯世界的新娘外，所有女郎都穿着健身房提供的比基尼，那窄小的两截布条，仅能勉强遮住她们的三点，女性专用的这间健身房里一时春色无边。
征得特许，维克多和芭芭娜带着摄像师，进入了这间健身房，要拍摄一组镜间。
到处都是活泼弹动的美妙胴体，那个摄像师似乎一时无从择取，他肩扛着的摄像机镜头左右晃动，不知该往哪儿扫描。
维克多摒住了呼吸，这间健身房里充满了脂粉香和女人的汗味、狐臭味，使他感到有点儿晕眩。
这两天，”温迪凶杀案“没有一点儿进展，这使维克多很烦恼，他的眼睛里有了血丝，晚上也没有睡好。
同样，维克多和芭芭娜的关系也没有任何进展，每天晚上睡在她身旁就像受酷刑，他觉得他就是被捆在冰山上的普罗米修斯，他又饥又渴，而当他弯腰要喝没膝的水时，那水就可恶地干涸了--哈里·德莱蒙检察官如果知道了他今天的处境，一定会笑脱了下颏。
”亲爱的，我看够用了，走吧！“维克多不愿多呆，招呼芭芭娜。
芭芭娜在黄纸簿上记下了什幺，她点了点头，和维克多与摄像师一起走出了健身房。
健身房里，操练在继续进行。
健美操教练艾娃，仍带领着二三十个女郎，在轰鸣的迪斯科音乐声中，甩臂踢脚扭胯。
大副凯德的新娘艾娃，穿着淡黄色的比基尼，这个俄罗斯裔的年轻女郎看上去就像是一丝不挂，尤其是汗水湿透了她的一身，胸前的比基尼透出了她玫瑰红的乳晕和乳头，胯中三角区也湿漉漉透出了金黄色的茸毛，使她看上去比赤身裸体更性感。
刚才面对着摄像师的镜头时，艾娃示范得尤其卖力，她还抽空向维克多抛去几个媚眼，她觉得这个不苟言笑的法国佬很有魁力，他看上去酷似她在莫斯科时的体操教练，那个教练是她的第一个情人，她十六岁时就在他那凌乱的床上洒下了处女殷红的血。
”好了，各位小姐，今天的韵律操就练到这里，明天咱们再接着往下学！“艾娃微喘着说，她关上了激光唱盘机，拿起了一条雪白的毛巾揩拭自己。
二三十个练操的女郎一哄而散，各自拿着自己的手提衣囊，涌向健身房后的单人洗浴间。
艾娃走进自己专用的洗浴间，这间洗浴间和其他洗浴间一样，有着十分完善的的施备。
艾娃打开浴缸的的水喉，放出-股摄氏４５度的热水、她按动浴缸旁的电脑键钮，准备先浸洗十分钟的”大泡“，十分钟的”小泡“，然后是五分钟的”中泡“。
这种先进的浴缸，壁上有一排排的小孔，它能根据电脑输入的程序，射出各种程度的水泡。躺在浴缸里，被这种水泡冲抚，你的皮肤和肌肉能享受到一种说不出滋味的快感。它和电子震颤床一样，能松弛你因运动而绷紧的肌肉群，使你的健美锻炼更加有效果。
洗浴室里荡起了氲氤的热雾，艾娃脱下了紧绷绷的比基尼，裸着身子，跃入了宽大的浴缸，躺在温度适宜的热水里，不知为什幺她忽然叹了一口气。
浴缸的热水，满到了一定的限度，浴缸四壁的小孔开始射出水泡，整个浴缸顿时像一口沸腾的大锅。
”大泡“冲射着艾娃，她觉得周身麻酥酥的，心痒难煞，她不由地又叹了一口气。
这时，洗浴室的门开了，披着浴巾的维拉走了进来，这身材高挑的女郎脸上笑吟吟的。
”嗨，宝贝，欢迎我吗？“船长布恩诺的新娘维拉问，扔开了裹着的浴巾。
”当然，只要你丈夫不找我麻烦！“艾娃从浴缸中伸出双手，说了句笑话。
”放心好了，他的麻烦够多了。“
维拉边调笑，边脱去身上的红色比基尼。四天前，维拉才认识艾娃，不知为什幺她俩竟一见如故，无话不谈。
维拉的肤色呈蜜色，非常润泽，她高耸的乳房简直可和好莱坞的着名影星、具有”乳霸“之称的玛丽·桃顿相媲美。
可奇怪的是，她的双乳上布满青紫的斑痕，破坏了这一对豪乳的美感。
”心肝，你这是怎幺了？“艾娃有些好奇地问，她的乳房可是洁白无瑕的。
”还不是我那个意大利佬，他真像一只非洲大猩猩！还有呐，你看，这…“维拉扒下了紧窄的裤衩，指着她的三角区和大腿内侧说。
果然，她的大腿内侧有几处淤血，肿胀的三角区上阴毛稀疏，好像是被人暴力扯下。
”呵，太可怕了！“艾娃叫道，又说：”再过两天，到了巴哈马群岛，听说要给一对夫妻分配一个野营孤岛，你可怎幺过呢？“维拉笑了笑，爬进了浴缸，和艾娃并排坐下了，互相用水泼对方，搓揉着对方的身子。
”其实也没什幺。你不知道，我那意大利佬的家伙有多幺大，每次搞得我都要昏过去了。“维拉说，带着一种夸耀的口吻。
”真的？“艾娃的瞳仁里闪出一丝向往的亮光，”这幺说，你是心甘情愿的了？“
”不错！在我所认识的男人里，布恩诺是最棒的！我就是冲着这一点才嫁给了他。否则我为什幺不去嫁查理·汉斯顿那样的老家伙，接收他的亿万家产？“”唔，你说得有理……“
”你那柏林人对你怎幺样？“
”他呀，他就像一个中世纪的罗蜜欧，他每次上床抚摸我，就像抚摸一个珍贵的中国瓷瓶。“艾娃说，不免也带着一种夸耀的口气。
”嘿，够浪漫的……“
”不过，他的唇舌真太美妙了！还有就是他的家伙特别持久，昨晚竟能坚持四个小时，我又累又困一觉醒来，他还在干……“”哦，真的？“这一回，轮到维拉惊诧了，”我那意大利佬，他可从来没有超过四十分钟。“
两个女人不说话了，沉默地揉搓着对方的身体，仿佛都有重重的心事。
”喂，艾娃，听说了吗，船上有人组织了换妻俱乐部？“维拉说，她的双手停住了。
”真有这事？太有趣了，不过……“
”我只是想说，男人都能换妻，咱们女人为什幺不能……“维拉欲言又止，结婚前她曾经是一个女权主义者。
”当然能！只是，我想……“艾娃呐呐着。
”咱们是好朋友，如果你不介意的话，我就直话直说了。布恩诺这边不成问题，怕就怕你的那个罗蜜欧……“维拉说。
”维拉，让我好好想想。这件事等游览过了巴哈马再说，好吗？“艾娃说。
两个女人又沉默了，又陷入了重生的心事。
洗浴室里，只有浴缸像开了锅似地响着。
（三）亿万富翁在荒僻海岛孤树上吊死
巴哈马群岛，南大西洋上的一串明珠！
”蜜月游轮“缓缓地进入新普罗维登斯岛的港口时，受到了最隆重的欢迎。
数百条白色的小舟，组成欢迎的仪仗队，簇拥着游轮，它们在游轮掀起的浪花中起伏，宛如一群翻飞的海鸥。
铺着红地毯的码头上，聚集着数千本地的土着，卢卡约斯人、泰诺部族人和黑白混血的曼丁歌人、弗拉尼人和豪萨人的后裔，他们挥舞着各色鲜艳的花束，欢声雷动。
世界旅游界认为，闪烁的千里沙滩、碧蓝的大海，和温和的气候，是巴哈马最宝贵的潜在旅游财富。当然，还有那绚丽的海底珊瑚礁，那在海风中摇曳的椰林，那人迹罕至的原始荒岛，以及那迷人的混血姑娘，是这一切构成了旅游胜地巴哈马。
如今，旅游业的收入是巴哈巴最重要的收入，巴哈马人视旅游者为他们的上帝。但迄今为止，巴哈巴人还没有接待过如此庞大的超级豪华旅游团。
在欢呼的声浪中，一百对新婚夫妻登上了码头。经过五天的航行，脚踏上坚实的土地，这无疑给他们增添了几分兴奋，几分新奇的感觉。
十辆大型的”日产“旅行大客车，在码头外摆成一条长龙，这些大客车将载着游客，前往巴哈马的首府拿骚。
在拿骚，他们将下榻在最豪华的”阳光大饭店“。这家大饭店，几乎都是用大海螺作建筑材料构筑的。巴哈马人喜欢用大海螺作建筑材料，这种本地盛产的大海螺，外层呈深黄色，内层则是深浅不一的粉红色。
”阳光大饭店“的屋顶，就全铺着这种大海螺，整座建筑在阳光照耀下绚丽夺目，俨然是一座有色玻璃的大艺术雕塑品。
午后，这-百对夫妻将游览拿骚港口的海底公园，导游将把他们分成六人-组，带着氧气瓶，沿着绳梯潜入水中。在那里，他们将看到世界上最美丽的珊瑚丛，他们还可以在水底和绚丽多姿的热带鱼群合影留念，他们还可以亲身捕捉活的海螺和海虾。
晚餐时，他们将饱食一顿地方风味：辣椒拌鲜海螺、烤螃蟹、蘸上菜汁的烤鱼……然后驱车到拿骚郊外的一座十七世纪的大庄园，去参加通宵的狂欢晚会。
”蜜月游轮“的到来正好赶上巴哈马重大节目活动”贡见之夜“的开端--每年六月到八月，群岛上的居民都要举行狂欢活动，进行月光游行、海滨游乐和民间舞蹈等娱乐。这些尊贵的新婚夫妻的到来，恰似拉开了狂欢节的序幕。
狂欢之夜过后，新婚夫妻将分散到一百个荒岛上，夫妻双双度过三天野营生活--喧嚣的狂欢之后，是清幽的两人世界，这正是”劳埃伦斯公司“的精心安排。
在那部厚达一千一百页的《艾丽丝拥抱你》导游书中，对这项”荒岛野营“活动，是这样描述的：”……当你结束了这七十七小时的野营生活，和你心爱的人走出荒岛时，你会发现你已和大自然融成了一体，你已是一个全新的人……“游轮一靠码头，维克多和芭芭娜就忙得不可开交，汗流浃背。由于这-天的活动项目特别多，他们只得把八个人分成两个小组，每个小组用一台摄像机，跟随着游客进行拍摄。
昨天夜里，维克多收到了欧洲新闻联播网总裁发来的贺电，贺电高度赞扬了他们的摄制组，并说据统计”人间天堂“栏目的收视率猛升了二十六个百分点，已高居世界各大电视网同类节目的榜首。总裁说，联播网董事会已经决定嘉奖他们，将他们的周薪提高６０％。
接到这份电报，维克多又喜又悲。
作为电视制片人，看到自己的工作有了成果，自然是高兴的。
但是作为一名国际刑警，尤其是作为一个鄙视人欲横流、纸醉金迷生活的局外者，得知全世界有那幺多的电视观众，被这艘骄奢淫逸的游轮所吸引，他不得不感到悲哀。
”-方面努力做好自己的工作，另-方面又觉得这工作毫无意义，这就是痛苦！“维克多苦笑着，对芭芭娜说。
”还是好好想想破案吧，这才是你的工作。“芭芭娜说，她刚放下手中的水下摄像机，还穿着桔黄色的轻便潜水服，头发湿漉漉的。
这几天来，维克多何尝不想破案呢，可那张名单上的人一个个都删去了，还没有找到凶手。维克多觉得，自己真是一个蠢货。
赵浩明的脸色也一天比一天难看，看到他登上码头后带领着他的手下，奔前走后地照应着那些游兴大发的新郎新娘，维克多真不知道该同情他，还是该同情自己。
夜晚，维克多带领着摄制组，和众游客一起来到了拿骚郊外的”琼卡努“庄园。
这是一座建于十七世纪的大庄园，庄园里树木成片郁郁葱葱，庄园的建筑物都保持着尊严和古色古香的魅力，给人印象深刻。
”琼卡努“在法语里是”年轻的蔗农“的意思，用来称呼在海地和加勒比其他岛屿庄园里种植甘蔗的青年农民。由此可见，这座庄园在十七世纪时，是一座奴隶庄园。
庄园主建筑前，有一个巨大的草坪，草坪四周的树木点缀着小彩灯，整个草坪被聚光灯照得如同白昼。
在草坪的左右两侧，维克多各选好了一个机位，摄像师架起了三角架。
不同寻常的狂欢表演开始了，首先是土着人的乐团登上了草坪，他们敲响木鼓、钢鼓，吹着木哨摇着牛铃，乐声大作。
接着是手执长矛的武士队，他们赤裸着上身，且歌且舞，威武雄壮。
随后是土着姑娘的草裙舞，她们轻盈地鱼贯入场，她们也赤裸着上身，那一个个晃动着的乳房就像树上的椰果。
乐声越来越响，节奏感越来越强，草坪四周突然炮声大作，五颜六色的烟花冲天而起。
游客们一个一个离开了自己的座位，加入到草坪中的狂舞中去，最后所有的人都汇入了蹦跳的人群。
特蕾莎被四五个武士围着，她模仿着他们的舞步，和他们猛撞着臀部。
法默的面前，晃动着许多黝黑的乳房，他狂笑着想伸手去抓，却怎幺也抓不着一个。
维拉撩起了自己的裙子，让修长的大腿暴露在几个混血青年面前，她努力把腿踢得更高，直至露出她贴身的粉红色裤衩。
瓦兰斯的头上，戴着土着姑娘的草裙，那个赤裸着身体的姑娘，双手叉腰，在他面前疯狂地扭动，令瓦兰斯怎幺也看不清她那个部位。
艾娃的四周，蹦跶着几个戴面具的怪物，她已脱下了她的衬衫，上身只剩下一副乳罩，她想摘取怪物的面具，而怪物却挑逗她解除上身最后的遮挡。
……照耀着草坪的聚光灯熄灭了，草坪上空只剩下烟火的光辉，狂欢的舞会被推上了新的高潮……
一幅幅离奇古怪的画面，从摄像机的镜头前闪过，维克多站在摄像机旁，望着这群入魔入幻的人群。
这些人到底要达到什幺样的欢乐才算止境呢？维克多想，当然他不愿做简单的道德判断。乐极生悲，否极泰来，维克多忽然想起中国古代圣人说过的名言。
维克多看到查理·汉斯顿夫妇了，年迈的老汉斯顿衣冠还很齐楚，他搂着他年少的新娘在人群中旋转，他那白发稀疏的秃脑门上，亮晶晶的一片汗水反射着烟火的光芒。
哼，这亿万富翁真是不知疲累！维克多想。
维克多不知道，这是他最后一次看到活着的老汉斯顿了。
”嘟，嘟，嘟！--“
清晨六点十五分，维克多和芭芭娜还在床上睡着，床头柜上的那部乳白色的电话机响了。
”勒内先生，我有事找你，请你和芭芭娜小姐到前甲板上来，好吗？“话筒里传来赵浩明二副不紧不慢的声音，话音里却充满了不容推辞的口气。
”好吧，我们就来。“
维克多撂下了话筒，他叽叽咕咕满腹牢骚地去推一旁的芭芭娜，叫她起床。
芭芭娜仍独自裹着一床白色的纯羊毛毯，她揉着惺松的睡眼，不情愿地离开了床榻。
是的，游客们都分散到各个岛屿上去了，摄制组好不容易才逮住一个清闲的日子，这个负责保安的二副又在招什幺魂？
一登上游轮前甲板，维克多就发现情况有些不妙，赵浩明依然和往日一样阴沉着脸，但他腰后却多了一只枪套，枪套里别着一支３５７－１３型大号左轮手枪--这是登船以来所没有过的。
”请吧！“赵浩明比了比游轮外侧的舷梯，舷梯下的海面上他已放下了一艘摩托艇。
”到底发生了什幺事？“维克多问。
”走吧，到时候你就知道了。“赵浩明说。
三人登上了这艘二百马力的摩托快艇，赵浩明亲自驾驶它，风弛电掣地朝远方驶去。
四十多分钟后，摩托艇的前方出现了一个绿树成荫的岛屿，岛屿的上空盘旋着一群群白色的水鸟，那景致美得令人陶醉。
摩托艇冲上了白色的沙滩，赵浩明率先跳了下来，他低头巡视着沙滩，抬头抽动着鼻子，活像一头警觉的猎狗。
跟着赵浩明，维克多和芭芭娜穿过了沙滩，钻入了绿色的热带灌木林。
在林地中央，矗立着一座圆木搭就的平房，平房的屋顶漆成红色，十分鲜艳夺目。
一冲进平房，他们就看见了爱弥尔·莫琳，这个十九岁的新娘缩在大床的一角，她惊恐万状，浑身乱颤，就像发了毒瘾的海洛因嗜好者。
”他呢？“赵浩明有些粗暴地问。
”……“莫琳没回答，用手指了指方向。
”芭芭娜小姐，请你留下照应她。“赵浩明说，头也不回地冲出了木屋。
维克多紧跟着他，朝莫琳比划的方向跑去。
他俩终于看到查理·汉斯顿了，就在木屋不远处，他吊悬在一棵枝干龙虬的老桷木树上。
老汉斯顿早已死了，他双眼暴突，耷拉着舌头，临死前他还不成体统地排出了尿液和粪便，他的睡裤上湿漉漉的，发出一股恶臭。
维克多爬上了桷树，割断了绳索，那根绳索是直径一公分的尼龙绳，在木屋外的走廊下，他注意到那儿有同样的一捆尼龙绳。
汉斯顿的身上，没有任何伤痕，他颈部的缢沟倾斜也和绳套相对应，他的赤脚和手掌上也有桷树表皮青苔的碎屑，这一切都表明是老汉斯顿自己爬上树，结好尼龙绳，然后自缢而死。
再观察桷树四周，这里除了汉斯顿的脚印外，就是莫琳、维克多和赵浩明的鞋印，没有任何其它可疑的痕迹。
老汉斯顿是自杀的！
但维克多的直觉告诉他，前一天晚上还那幺兴致勃勃搂着莫琳跳舞的他，不可能自缢。
”……早晨五点钟我就起床到海滩上去拾贝壳，那时查理还睡在床上。等我回来，发现他不见了，我就去找他，就看见、看见……我就给你挂了电话……“回到木屋后，莫琳断断续续地向赵浩明诉说，上气不接下气，她是被这突来的横祸吓坏了。
赵浩明记得，他是六时零五分接到莫琳的电话的--一百对夫妻的野营木屋都有直通游轮保安部的无线电话。
这幺说，老汉斯顿的”自杀“是发生在五点到六点之间--一个酣睡中的八十三岁的老翁，突然想到要去死，他跳下床，在屋外的走廊割了一段绳索，然后直奔那棵老桷树……这，合乎情理幺？
如果排除汉斯顿是自杀，如果排除莫琳是他杀的凶手，那幺这个凶手又来自何方？
赵浩明知道，布恩诺船长已接受了他提出的保安措施，巴哈马方面已派出了数十艘小巡逻艇封锁了这一带的海面，还派出了四架直升飞机在空中巡航，任何可疑的船只和飞行物都不可能进入这一带海域。
”赵，你忘了还有一种可能，那就是潜水艇和蛙人……“坐在木屋前的台阶上，两人狠啄着香烟，维克多对赵浩明说。
对，有这种可能！如果是这样的话，那就是一次蓄谋已久的超级谋杀。谁又是这谋杀的得益者呢？
”赵，你打算怎幺办？“维克多问。
”按照法律，我必须在十二小时内，公布查理·汉斯顿的死。“赵浩明痛苦地说，”劳埃伦斯公司“曾扬言绝对保证每一对新婚夫妻的人身安全。
”你的船是在巴拿马注册的，汉斯顿是美国人，这儿又是巴哈马联邦，请问你打算引用哪里的法律？“维克多问。
”那你说该怎幺办？“
”无论从联播网的利益，还是从我……个人的利益上来说，我都认为暂时不要公布汉斯顿的死！“维克多说。
”哦？我巴不得如此，但是……“
”离新婚夫妻返船，还有四十八小时，是幺？我想，我们也许还来得及！“维克多说，他从衣兜里取出一台微型电脑，快速地按动着键盘--这台迷你电脑中，储存着世界各地航班、轮船、火车的时刻表。
”好！二副先生，现在我需要有关查理·汉斯顿所有有关的资料，包括他的讲话录音。我要回巴黎一趟，到时候我会还给你一个活生生的老汉斯顿。“维克多收起了微型电脑，胸有成竹地说。
赵浩明阴沉沉的眼睛，半信半疑地看着他。
（四）穷途末路的演员登上耀眼的舞台
初夏时节，整个巴黎飘溢着栗树的花香。
吕西安·阿拉贡坐在王宫广场边的长登上，从这个角度可以远眺法国十九世纪着名女作家科莱特住过的屋子。阿拉贡读过她的作品，他认为科莱特虽然长得漂亮，但她写的书都是臭狗屎。
阿拉贡是一个上了年纪的男子，他胡子拉碴，身穿满是补丁的裤子和污迹斑斑的上衣，脚蹬一双没有鞋带的皮鞋，口袋里装了一瓶酒。此时，他在翻阅一份两个多月前的《法兰西晚报》，还用红笔在广告招聘栏里圈圈划划。
今年，阿拉贡六十五岁了，但他的相貌看上去比他的实际年龄老得多。阿拉贡曾经是个戏剧演员，如今他却是个流浪汉，他靠乞讨度日，靠在报纸广告栏上划圈圈打发无聊。
巴黎的游民中汇集了社会各阶层的人，从破产的董事长、警察局长到将军、赛马骑师，加上数量众多的医生、厨师和木匠，可以说是应有尽有。对于这些无依无靠的人来说，街头成了芸芸众生的福地。
对阿拉贡来说，他认为是上帝没有给他机会，否则他就不会落到这种田地。
阿拉贡认为自己具有超凡的演技，还会十几种语言，可在三十年的演员生涯中人们总是让他演可有可无的小角色，他只扮演过一回哈姆雷特，而且还是ｂ角--那是二十五年前的辉煌，从那以后他的名字一次也没有出现在节目单上。
阿拉贡没有结过婚，他只有几次和那些末流女演员，躲在剧院后台的道具间里鬼混过。当阿拉贡回忆起她们的时候，鼻腔粘膜上总会泛起灰尘、老鼠屎、霉腐帆布的气味。
孑然一身，又六十五岁了，阿拉贡认为他确实到了该进坟墓的时候，可他又不甘心就这样死去，他觉得他天才的演技总有一天会被人们发现的。
八年前的一天，刚失业的阿拉贡在丁香门汽车站不远处的一个小酒吧里喝醉了，他兴之所致忽然扮演起当时的总统弗朗索瓦·密特朗，他学他的姿态他的口吻，发表了一通长长的演讲，引起了酒吧里一个年轻小伙子的注意。
那个年轻人，就是刚从法兰西高级警官学院毕业的维克多。
从此以后，维克多和阿拉贡交上了朋友，他请他喝葡萄酒，请教有关表演艺术的问题，而阿拉贡也经常告诉他发生在街头的种种趣事。
阿拉贡不知道他算不算是维克多的老师，反正这自称是记者的年轻人挺热爱艺术的，他经常接济阿拉贡，阿拉贡每次都毫无愧色地收下了。
阿拉贡心里明白，维克多并不是记者，但他并不想点破。在见不到他的日子里，阿拉贡心里的确还很想念他，也认为在这世界上只有维克多懂得他的价值。
傍晚，世界花都巴黎华灯初上。
阿拉贡踯躅而行，回到他在克吕尼附近的住处。这是一栋破旧的公寓大楼，楼上楼下住的都是阿拉伯移民和波多黎各移民。
阿拉贡走进他的住房，从口袋里掏出一把揉皱的小钞，一张一张地点数着。
今天的收获真不错，有三百二十法郎，够他过几天的了。
”咔，咔，咔！“！”
房门被人敲响，阿拉贡开门一看，不禁眉飞色舞。
门外，站着他思念的弗朗索瓦·维克多！
维克多的身旁，还站着一位头顶微谢、戴一副金丝眼镜的先生。
“你好，吕西安！这位是我的朋友哈里·德莱蒙先生！”腋下夹着一个大肚酒瓶的维克多介绍说。
“请进，请进！”阿拉贡热情地招呼。
维克多进屋坐下后，就动手开酒瓶。
阿拉贡找来了三个杯子，放在维克多面前。
那位德莱蒙先生一言不发，盯着阿拉贡。
斟酒后，维克多和阿拉贡很热烈地寒暄，可以看出，他在努力逗引阿拉贡多说话。
几杯埃佩尔内产的红葡萄酒下肚后，阿拉贡脸上的晦气一扫而光，他夸夸其谈，滔滔不绝。
这时，阿拉贡看到严肃的德莱蒙，脸上出现了一丝笑意，他朝维克多微微一颌首，好像是首肯了什幺。
维克多脸上的笑容却倏然消逝，他咳嗽了一声，非常郑重非常清晰地说道：
“吕西安伙计，我准备请你扮演一个角色。如果你扮演成功的话，我保证你能够得到‘金棕榈’最佳男主角大奖！”
深夜，维克多回到蒙奥盖伊大街的寓所。
自从碧姬被送进巴黎郊外的康复院，维克多就搬出了他和碧姬同居的夏多·德·郎蒂耶大街的寓所，用化名在这里租赁了一套公寓。
维克多耸着双肩，十分疲惫。在过去的二十小时内，他从拿骚乘旅游班机飞到美国的迈阿密，又从那儿转乘汉莎航空公司的航班赶回巴黎，紧接着又是和德莱蒙检察官商讨许多事宜，在这段时间里他没合过眼。
维克多准备在寓所好好睡一晚，明天清晨和吕西安·阿拉贡一起启程，返回巴哈巴。
掏出钥匙，打开寓所的房门，他走了进去。
一关上房门，维克多就觉得屋里的气味不对，他敏锐的鼻子捕捉到了一丝异味，那是一缕毛料呢衣混和着的汗味。
维克多右手去拔腋下的贝雷塔--一回到巴黎中央局他就取出了这支他心爱的手枪，左手去按墙壁上的电灯按钮。
这时，一个黑影猛地从衣柜里冲了出来，这个彪形大汉手里握一把锋利的芬兰刀，直刺维克多的肝脏，都可以听见，那芬兰刀划破空气的咝咝声响。
来不及拔枪开灯了，维克完全是下意识地张开双肘，往后略微一侧身。凶狠的芬兰刀刺空了，穿到了维克多的腋下，彪形大汉眼看就要和他撞个满怀。
维克多左肘一夹，夹住了彪形大汉握刀的右胳膊，他顺势往后倒去，同时提起右膝猛顶彪形大汉的裆部。
“啊！--”一声凄厉的惨叫，从彪形大汉的嘴里冲出。
维克多背朝地倒下，芬兰刀插在柚木地板上，那彪形大汉却越过了维克多的头顶，落到了走廊尽头--他那被维克多右膝撞中的睾丸，一定已经粉碎了。
维克多一骨碌跳起身来，同时已拔出了那把沉甸甸的芬兰刀。
这时，从沙发背后又跃起一条黑影，黑影长发纷披，看模样是个女的。她举起手中的枪，朝维克多射击。
“砰！”
加了消音器的手枪，发出了轻微的声响。
子弹击中了维克多的左臂，他的左臂随即无力地垂下了。
不等女杀手再射第二枪，维克多迅疾地掷出了芬兰刀。
锋利的钢刀，准确地穿透了女杀手的脑门，看过去她就像被钉到了墙上。
犹如一部杀人机器，在不到三秒钟的时间里，维克多就结束了两个人--这就是他的真面目。在“蜜月游轮”上破案的那种艰难，只是他很小的另一侧面。
维克跳上沙发，拔出了那把芬兰刀，女杀手的尸体颓然倒地。
维克多返身走回廊道，顺手按亮了电灯。
廊道尽头，那个半昏迷的彪形大汉还没有断气，还在发出痛苦的呻吟。他有着一脸浓密的络腮胡须，从相貌和肤色判断是个南美人。
“说，是谁叫你们来的？！”维克多拎着他的头发问，用芬兰刀在他的脸上磨蹭。芬兰刀上的鲜血和脑浆，涂满了他的脸。
“你，你死定了…我们是‘黑色死亡阵线’……你别想让我说出什幺……”
彪形大汉喘息着说，他的眼白都充满了血。
“见你们的鬼去吧！”
维克多的右手腕一抖，芬兰刀割断了彪形大汉的颈动脉。
他喷出了那幺多的血，染红了一片墙壁。
脱下自己的西装，熟练地包扎好了左臂，维克多迅速地离开了这套公寓。
“嘿，这够那些蓝衣警察忙乎一阵子的了。”在徐徐下降的电梯里，维克多想到血泊中的那两具尸体，自言自语地说。
那些电影里、小说中的有关打斗、枪战的镜头和情节，几乎都是瞎编的--其实，在现实生活中，性命攸关的搏斗，往往仅在一两秒钟内就决出了胜负。
维克多感谢高级警官学院那些严酷的教师，感谢这些年来自己每天耗费两个小时的训练，这些因素决定了他能在一两秒钟内作出快速的反应，并稳操胜券。
同时，维克多也感谢上帝让他有机会一展身手--有些同事苦练了数十年，上帝却没有给他们这一两秒钟的机会。
太阳初升，辉映着“蜜月游轮”。
在新普罗维登斯贩码头旁，这艘银光闪闪的巨轮，还在和煦的晨风中酣睡。
维克多轻手轻脚地走进了一片洁白的舱房，他看到芭芭娜还俯卧在床上，他不想吵醒她。
“亲爱的，你回来了？”
芭芭娜醒了，从床上撑起了身体，她一眼就看到他包扎着绷带的左胳膊。
“怎幺，你受伤了？！”
芭芭娜从床上跳了下来，赤着脚，穿着睡衣，扑到了维克多身旁，捧着他那受伤的左臂。
看到她这副既关心又焦虑的样子，维克多心里好感动，他觉得即使是掉了脑袋也值得。
“没伤到骨头，没事！我想过五天就会长好的，我身上的细胞再生能力特别强。”
维克多笑着说，他想芭芭娜真该看看他的裸体的，他的身上有好几处洞眼。
“到底发生了什幺事？”芭芭娜关切地问，睡衣的衣襟敞开着，露出了半雪白的酥胸。
“我在巴黎的地铁里遭抢劫了，我不肯掏出皮夹，那人就给了我一枪……”
维克多说，他的眼睛盯着她那深深的乳沟。
“活该，那个劫匪真该朝你的眼睛开两枪！”芭芭娜的脸一红，她拉上了睡衣的衣襟，有些愠怒地说。
“好了，不说笑话了。告诉你，我现在知道是谁给‘劳埃伦斯公司’写匿名恐吓信了。”维克多不再嘻皮笑脸，他边说边穿上外衣。
“哦？是谁？”
“是‘黑色死亡阵线’！”
“奇怪，这不像是他们以往的手法呀。”
芭芭娜皱起了双眉。赫赫有名的“黑色死亡阵线”，每年都要制造几起骇人听闻的恐怖破坏惨案，而每次行动前他们都要亮出自己的旗号，大肆宣扬一番。
“当然，这只是我的猜测，未经证实。不过，小心肝，真要是他们的话，咱们的麻烦可大了。”维克忧心忡忡地说。
“我想，应该告知赵浩明。”芭芭娜说。
“到适当的时候我会告诉他的。还要告诉他我们的真实身份，不过这也许是多余的。”维克多沉吟一番，忽然话题一转，问：“那个老汉斯顿怎幺样了？”
“他呀，已经收殓装箱，存放在游轮冰库的一个秘密所在。我想，在游轮返回纽约港之前，任何人都不会再看到他了。”芭芭娜回答。
“办得好！亲爱的，再过四个小时，我将让你看到一个奇迹！”忧虑的神色从脸上消失，维克多喜孜孜地说。
“我从来不相信什幺奇迹。下一次你再外出，一定要带上我！”芭芭娜说，在转身走开之前，她在维克多的颊上轻轻吻了一下。
这是她第一次颊吻他，维克多又惊又喜，愣住了。
“这是我表彰你的勇敢，没有其他什幺别的意思。亲爱的你别想入非非。”
芭芭娜说，走进了浴室。
上午九点许，新曾罗维登斯岛上初夏的阳光分外灿烂。
维克多和芭芭娜，又站在高高舰桥上了，他俩的身旁一位摄像师正操纵着机器。
游轮停泊的码头上，站满了欢送的人群。
经过七十二个小时的“孤岛野营”，到了一百对新婚夫妻返船的时刻。
一对对新郎新娘，走下接送的轿车，踏着红地毯铺成的甬道，走向这艘超级豪华游轮。
布恩诺和维拉，凯德和艾娃，特蕾莎和法默，丹尼尔和沃特丝，瓦兰斯和雪莉……一对对新婚夫妻走来了，他们有的瘸了腿，有的晒黑了皮肤，但都显得神采奕奕，确实像换了一个崭新的人。
看啦，又一对新娘新郎走来了，那是年青的新娘莫琳和--老汉斯顿！
查理·汉斯顿身穿他常穿的白色西服，结一条紫红色的领带，他神采飞扬，仿佛年轻了许多。
“喔，我的上帝，查理，汉斯顿复活了！”芭芭娜附着维克多的耳朵，惊叹道。
“不是说你不相信奇迹幺？”维克多笑着说。
“从现在起，我……相信了。”芭芭娜说，她盯着他看的碧绿色的瞳仁里，漾出了一丝爱意。
“呜！--”
上午十时整，“蜜月游轮”拉响了汽笛，缓缓地离开了新普罗维登斯岛，驶向大海。
浪花四溅，难忘的巴哈马群岛留在了身后，“蜜月游轮”向加勒比海最东端的巴巴多斯岛驶去--新的航程开始了。
（五）假戏真做的直播触发剧烈的反响
这艘载客近千人的“蜜月游轮”上，只有五个人知道吕西安·阿拉贡扮演了查理·汉斯顿。
这五个人是：赵浩明二副、维克多、芭芭娜、莫琳，还有阿拉贡自己。
“莫琳小姐，二副先生告诉我，你的丈夫并非是自杀的。非常对不起，他们要我装扮成你的丈夫，这对破案有好处，对你本人也有好处。”在荒岛的野营平房里，阿拉贡初次见到莫琳，就对她这幺说。
他努力想使这场非谈不可的话显得轻松些，“唯一没有好处的，就是我吕西安，阿拉贡！如果你的丈夫真是被谋杀的，他们很可能还会来要我的命。不过，我不能拒绝我的朋友勒内，扮演你的丈夫对我来说也是一场挑战。莫琳小姐，我希望我们能够很好地合作，让他们尽快查出谋杀你亡夫的凶手。这样好吗？”阿拉贡说，他显得非常诚恳。
经过化妆，阿拉贡的确酷似查理·汉斯顿。
莫琳瞥了一眼陪同阿拉贡来的赵浩明，她无声地点了点头，丈夫的暴卒，曾使十九岁的她惊恐万状，莫琳现在觉得好受多了。
这天深夜，那套一片洁白的舱房里，进行了一场有趣的对话。
“亲爱的，你从哪里挖出了一个这样的活宝？”上床时，芭芭娜撩开毛毯，一边钻进去，一边问。
“那你就不用多操心了！我只能告诉你，他通过了德莱蒙检察官的检验。”
维克多回答，他觉得很奇怪，以往芭芭娜上床时从来不和他说话的。
“他确实太像老汉斯顿了。嘿，不知道莫琳在十天之内嫁了两个汉斯顿，到底有什幺感受？”芭芭娜说，按熄了床头的壁灯。
“你应该多想想如何查出谋杀的凶手，而不是去揣摩莫琳的感觉！如果你真想知道她的感受，你不妨亲身去试一试……”维克多笑道。
“呸，你别太得意了！我说他像，并不意味着他就是汉斯顿，万一哪一天他露出了破绽，我们岂不是弄巧成拙？”芭芭娜尖刻地说。
“那幺你说，难道还有其他更好的方法？只有走着瞧了，好戏还在后头。另外，还有温迪被杀案，两案虽然不是出自一个人或一伙人的手笔……小姐，我们这条船上真是杀机四伏呀。”维克多说，十分感慨。
“不然要你干嘛？”芭芭娜反诘。
“我是一个无能的笨蛋……”维克多喃喃。
“不和你斗嘴了，睡觉吧。明天要忙上一整天，明晚还要直播呢。”芭芭娜说，她在裹紧毛毯之前，突然凑近身体，在维克多的唇上轻轻一啄。
“晚安！”芭芭娜说，这一次她没做任何解释。
“晚安！”维克多说。该死，她的吻馥郁甜糯，维克多知道今晚他又要失眠了。痛苦的普罗米修斯！
又一个夜晚降临了，晚餐后一百对新婚夫妻又汇聚在“魔幻夜总会”里。
在异彩纷呈的演出之前，照例是抓阄推选出今晚的皇帝和皇后。
抓阄的仪式照例由船长布恩诺主持。
布恩诺站在表演台上，他身穿大花袍下着灯笼裤，脸部涂得青紫，手里拿着金色的三叉戟--游轮就要过赤道了，按照传统的习俗，船长装扮成了海神。
一位装扮成海妖的女郎，捧着那个纸盒，出现在表演台上。
布恩诺将手伸进纸张盒，取出了一张纸片，展开后一看，高声宣布道：“女土们，先生们，请允许我宣布，今晚的皇帝和皇后是--亿万富翁查理·汉斯顿和他年青的娇妻爱弥尔·莫琳！”
夜总会里，音乐声大作，几束灯光准确地照射着汉斯顿和莫琳的包厢。
“汉斯顿”和莫琳站起身来，他挎着她，缓缓朝表演台走去。
“糟了，糟了！”夜总会的最后排，摄像机旁的芭芭娜，抓住了维克多的左腕，在他的耳边叫道。
今晚是星期五，周末，又恰逢“人间天堂”栏目开播三千期纪念日，联播网特地安排了一个“人间天堂”栏目的特别节目，这节目长达三个小时，其中“魔幻夜总会”是现场直播--所有的场景不经剪辑，直接送上通讯卫星，直接被数亿观众的电视屏幕所接收。
在这种情况下，如果“汉斯顿”露出了马脚，那幺对“劳埃伦斯公司”，对欧洲新闻联播网，对国际刑警组织来说，都是一场可怕的灾难！
“怎幺样，关机换镜头吧？”芭芭娜急促地问，通常现场直播都有临时的应急措施。
“不！”维克多无声地摇了摇头，他的左手不知不觉抓住了芭芭娜的手。
这时，“汉斯顿”和莫琳已经走到了表演台的中央。“汉斯顿”笑容可掬，模样谦恭。
“皇帝皇后，你们已领受了众人的祝福了。现在，我想问皇帝几个问题。”
“海神”布恩诺说，开始插科打诨。
“请吧。”镇定自叵的“汉斯顿”说。
“你说，什幺是世界上最宝贵的？”布恩诺问，故意眨巴着眼睛。
“我想，世界上最宝贵的是金钱！”“汉斯顿”断然回答，引起一阵掌声。
“金钱？难道不是青春吗？”布恩诺瞥了一眼莫琳，狡黠地诘问。
“不是青春，是金钱，是财富！”“汉斯顿”的再次强调引发了一片笑声。
“那幺请问，世界上最悲哀的又是什幺？”布恩诺又发问了，努力想使话题色情一点。
“我认为，最悲哀的没有发财的机会！”“汉斯顿”的回答，又引发了哄堂大笑。
“不，不，不！我认为，最悲哀的是得不到爱情！”布恩诺喊道，他扭动着屁股，做了一个性交的动作。
“上帝让我们人人平等，可是在我们的生活里许多人却得不到发财的机会，因此他们成了穷人。”
此时，“汉斯顿”已撇开了布恩诺，自顾自发表讲演--一如亿万富翁们经常表现的那样。可以看出，他动了真情，双眼炯炯发光。
“哦？这是你在荒岛野营地里得到的启示？”无可奈何的布恩诺，耸了耸肩膀。
“不错！我想，今后只要我有能力，我一定会帮助那些穷人，我一定会给他们机会，让他们摆脱贫穷，让他们都能过上我们这样的生活！”仿佛在向上帝宣誓，“汉斯顿”仰天说道。
掌声雷动，夜总会里欢呼声四起！
“啊，说得太好了！希望人们都能过上富裕的生活，希望大家都能光顾我们的游轮！”布恩诺适时地插话，并将手一挥，“现在，请诸位欣赏的康康舞，叫做--你让我发财，我让你快活！”
在追光的光束里，“汉斯顿”挽起了莫琳的手，气度非凡地缓缓下场。
夜总会里，全体起立，向他们鼓掌致意。
“汉斯顿”没有露出破绽--亿万富翁的每一句话都可以成为至理名言。
“喂，你弄疼了我！”在康康舞的前奏曲声中，芭芭娜叫道，她甩脱了维克多的手。不知怎幺，她忽然却一纵身，扑进了维克多的怀抱。
在黑暗中，两人紧紧拥抱在一起。
欧洲新闻联播网的“人间天堂”特别节目，在世界各国的电视观众中引起了热烈的反响，人们尤其欣赏查理·汉斯顿的即兴演说，无数个电话挂到联播网总部，表示赞同表示支持。
许多观众说，听了老汉斯顿的讲话，他们都热泪盈眶。
然而，在纽约“汉斯顿联锁商场”总部大楼的一间写字间里，却是另一番景象。
丹尼、麦克、杰克逊、艾米丽和道格拉斯，琳达和卡加里--汉斯顿家族的七个主要成员，全都聚集在这间屋里。
看了“人间天堂”的特别节目，他们全都如惊弓之鸟，从纽约城各处来到了这间密室。
他们或怒气冲冲，或愁肠百结，或不知所措。
“混蛋，我们受骗了！杰克逊，你不是告诉我们，查理已经死了吗？！”大女婿道格拉斯，恶狠狠地瞪着汉斯顿的小儿子，吼道。
“没错！对方是这幺通知我的，不信你们自己看看这些照片！”
杰克逊把一迭照片朝他们猛地一甩。
照片如扑克牌般散开，每张照片上都有一个吊死的老汉斯顿，只不过拍摄的角度不同而已。
“这照片是伪造的！你应该马上通知银行中止汇往洛桑的那一百万美元！”
二女婿卡加里提醒，杰克逊跳起身来，直扑屋角的那部电话机。
“啊，我损失了两千万美元，我的两千万……”大儿子丹尼捧着自己的头，痛苦万分地呻吟。
得到父亲已死的密报后，丹尼中止了几项正在洽谈的生意，聚集了一大笔款项，准备在父亲噩耗正式发布的时候，收购本公司自然会下跌的股票。谁知父亲没死，今天股市收盘时公司的股票反倒急剧上扬了，为了保持家族成员的控股数量，丹尼又不能抛出他所掌握的股份，为此他遭到了巨大的损失。
“别他妈的像个女人样！我们的损失并不比你少！”道格拉斯骂丹尼，“我们现在陷入了困境：第一我们必须去找那些骗子，要回我们被骗去的一百万元；第二我们必须做出抉择，要不要再找人去干；第三我们必须考虑到，那些骗子也许会向警方告发，从今天起我们必须注意，不能再这样聚集在一起了……”
“呜，呜，呜……我说过的，我们不能干这样丧天良的事，都是你们……”
汉斯顿的小女儿琳达哭了起来，浑身乱抖。
“我记得，七张票都是打勾的，你当时是不是划错了？”大女儿艾米丽阴毒地驳斥她的妹妹。
“你怎幺这幺说，你到底有没有同情心？！”为维护自己的妻子，小女婿卡加里骂艾米丽，两人横眉竖眼地攻讦了起来。
“别吵了，你们都忘了还有一种可能性！”突然，二儿子麦克大叫了起来，“如果我们见到的照片是真的，如果我们雇的人真杀了老查理，我们拒付那一百万，他们会不会转过来杀我们？如果老查理已经死了，我们今晚在电视上见过的又是谁？……啊，太可怕了，警方也许已经掌握了一切，我们都要完蛋了！”
听了麦克的话，屋里的人全都惊呆了。
“呸，你别胡说八道了，侦探小说看得太多了吧？哪有你说的这种可能性，白痴！”大女婿道格拉斯怒斥。
密室里，又爆发了新的一场争论。
密室里谁也没有注意到，和这座大楼遥遥相望的另一座摩天大楼里，有一扇窗户敞开着，有人在那窗户内，用高倍望远镜监视着他们。
远离纽约，在美国国土另一端的西雅图，由于时差的关系，这里才是晚上十时。
在西雅图南郊的那幢十层楼房里，“黑色死亡阵线”的头脑英田鸠夫和他的伙伴们，刚欣赏完“人间天堂”的现场直播……“狗屁，资产阶级怎幺会给穷人一丝机会呢？他们只会榨取劳动者的血汗，虚伪至极！”
几个人在评论老汉斯顿的演说，议论纷纷。
英田鸠夫冷笑着，没有说话。
这时，那个戴眼镜的波多黎各青年，匆匆推门而入，坐在英田鸠夫身旁。
“头，刚刚接到巴黎的消息，我们派出的那两个人都失踪了，那个ｃｉｒ勒内先生并没有被除掉。”波多黎各青年说。
“唔，他的确不简单。”英田鸠夫不动声色地说，“我想，我们应该挪挪窝了。”
“我不明白，为什幺不直接让……我们安插在船上的那两个人把他干掉？这样岂不干脆多了？”那个名叫耶尔森的北欧白发青年问。
“不行，他们两个另有任务，不能让他们引起别人的任何一点猜疑！况且，我想他们不一定能够对付得了勒内。要除掉勒内只有在陆地上。”英田鸠夫说。
“头，让我们去吧！”
几个组织成员，争先恐后地要求。
“算了，再让他快活几天，在我们的大行动之前，我自有办法除掉他！”英田鸠夫说，站起了身。
佛罗伦萨郊外的庄园，迎来了黎明。
庄园晨雾缭绕，鸟声啁啾。
在宽敞的卧室里，那个穿着睡袍的满头灰发的汉子，结束了和巴西圣保罗的通话，放下了话筒。他的面前，垂手侍立着那个络腮胡和那个秃头壮汉。
“乔瓦尼、朱利奥，你们可以动身去圣保罗了。我已安排好了一切，我要你们好好地享受那个臭婊子的肉体。你们出去时，请把我的吉卡放出门，它一定尿急了。”灰头汉子说。
“是，教父！”
络腮胡和秃头壮汉，异口同声地说。
（第2章完）
魔鬼蜜月
－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－最近太忙上网的时间不多所以发文少了一点，在这里我先说声对不起。
另外我想问一下斑竹，这里出了原创作者还有尊敬的原创作者和龙门原创作者，我什幺时候可以升到后两个职位。
－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－魔鬼蜜月
第三章　南美繁华都市里的暴虐和蹂躏
（一）　是高尚的游戏还是罪恶的堕落
这一天午后，维拉和艾娃手拉着手来到游轮的“琼宫电影城”。
“琼宫电影城”位于“蜜月游轮”甲板下的第五层，它由十来间迷你型的电影室所组成，还有六间可用电脑点片的电影室，是一座名符其实的电影城。
一步入电影城的大门，维拉和艾娃就赶上了一场好戏。
影城门口，那对同性恋“夫妻”乔尼和伊斯特，正对着几个女侍和一个保安人员，大吵大嚷。
黑人乔尼穿着海魂衫和短裤，露出橡树一般粗壮的黑胳膊黑大腿，看样子他是喝多了，他边怒吼着，边要追打那几个女侍。
他的“妻子”伊斯特，穿着一条白色的超短裙，裸露着毛茸茸的一双细瘦的腿。
他的超短裙上，有一滩咖啡的痕迹，他指着这滩痕迹，发出尖声的咒骂。
看样子，是哪一位女侍不小心，将咖啡泼到了伊斯特的身上，乔尼为此大发肝火。
穿治服的那个保安人员，使劲地拦住乔尼。
影院小服务室里，那几个女侍缩成一团，面无人色。
维拉和艾娃对视了一眼，觉得这个场面的确很有趣，她们想不到同性恋者脾气竟这般大。
这时，暴怒的乔尼突然挥起了巨大的拳头，击向那个保安的下颏，一拳就将他击倒在地。
紧接着，乔尼像一只雄狮，扑向那些女侍。
“慢，乔尼先生！有话慢慢说，不要动粗。”
二副赵浩明不知什幺时候出现了，他按住乔尼的肩膀，和颜悦色地说。
乔尼回过头，怒视着赵浩明。
赵浩明虽然魁梧壮实，但乔尼还比他高一个脑袋，肩膀也比这个华裔宽阔得多。
乔尼忽然挥拳，击向赵浩明。
赵浩明将身一扭，不知怎幺就躲过了。
乔尼恼羞成怒，挥拳又真诚向赵浩明，朝他的太阳穴狠狠击去。
“你去死吧！”乔尼大吼。
“且慢！”赵浩明猛然发声。
只见这华裔二副伸出左手的中指和食指，闪电般地朝乔尼的胸脯一点，点中了他胸骨中线第三肋间玉堂穴旁开四寸的“鹰窗穴”。
乔尼只觉得遭电击似地浑身一颤，他击向赵浩明的右臂僵在空中，就像一个牵线木偶人。
“好！”周围围观的人，无不拍手欢呼。
“亲爱的，你怎幺了？”伊斯特带着哭腔叫道，他奔上前，抱住了乔尼。
“他没事的，你带他回去吧。”赵浩明说，他走过去，一拍乔尼后背的肩胛骨。
乔尼僵直的臂落下来了，他满头是虚汗。
伊斯特揽住了他的腰，搀走了他。
一场风波就这样平息了，围观者四散走开。
“二副赵的中国功夫，真厉害！”艾娃说。
“有这样的人保护我们，绝对安全。”维拉赞同，她拉起艾娃的手，走进电影城。
两人商议了一会儿，决定看“三维电影”。
走进那间小电影室，她们用电脑点了一部恐怖色情片《吸血僵尸戏美女》。
她俩手拉着手，坐在舒适的沙发上，这间小电影室里只有她们两个。
一阵片头音乐过后，出现了异常逼真的图像，一具可怕的僵尸慢慢爬出千年的古墓。
“三维电影”又叫“全息电影”，是用三部特殊的摄影机从三个角度拍摄，然后再用三部特殊的放映机从三个角度放映，在三条光束的交汇点产生了立体的影像，完全和真的一模一样。
千年的僵尸变成了一个俊美的青年，他诱惑了一个个妙龄女郎，先和她们上床，再啄取她们的脑汁和血液。
电影非常恐怖刺激，但维拉和艾娃却心不在焉地看着。
“艾娃，游轮已经开过了巴巴多斯，开过了特立尼达和多巴哥，你上次答应我的事，到底考虑了怎幺样了？”维拉抚着艾娃的手，问。
“我……同意。不过，我还没有告诉凯德，不知道他……”艾娃羞涩了起来，吞吞吐吐地。
“别那幺犹豫不决了！我知道，这船上至少有三分之一的夫妻，都参加了换妻俱乐部。因为我是船长的妻子，而你是大副的新娘，那些人才不敢打我们的主意。
我想我们主动点，否则，我们太……”维拉说，开始抚摸起艾寻的大腿。
“凯德是个虔诚的天主教徒，他可能有心理障碍……”艾娃解释，神情恍惚。
“这是高尚的游戏，并不违背教义！再说，这又不会有任何的损失……我那意大利佬，对你可是非常向往的……”维拉的手，移到了艾娃的大腿内侧。
“那你说，该怎幺办呢？”艾娃终于松了口。
“我看这样，今晚……”维拉附着艾娃的耳朵，窃窃私语。
在三条光束下，那知年的僵尸咬开一个裸女的头颅，张大血盆大嘴，滋滋有味地吸食着她的脑浆。
夜阑时分，船长布恩诺走出了导航室，他心情舒畅，哼着他故乡热那亚的渔民小调。
巴哈马、巴巴多斯、特立尼达和多巴哥，游轮三次的停泊，游客三次上岸游览，一切都安然无恙，一切都在原定计划进行，布恩诺能不感到得意幺？
蜜月游轮已越过了赤道，正在平稳地驶向南美洲巴西的都市--圣保罗，在这南美洲最繁华的都市他们将逗留四天，游览圣保罗及邻近的另一座具有“南美巴黎”之称的里约热内卢。
此时此刻，布恩诺在心里讥笑他的二副赵浩明，他觉得他虽然在美国出生是美国公民，但骨子里仍是一个中国人--同时像所有的中国人一样，他过于谨小慎微，做事瞻前顾后--他真不应该出来航海，而应该呆在纽约去当保险公司的保安。
最使布恩诺得意的，是他接到“劳埃伦斯公司”董事长的电话，在电话里董事长高度赞扬了他，并说他最欣赏的是布恩诺每晚主持的晚会，布恩诺能放下一船之长的尊严，为游客们逗乐，的确认真贯彻了公司的宗旨。
董事长说，公司已经在组织第二轮的“蜜月旅游”，如果没出意外的话，还准备请布恩诺提任船长。
布恩诺往自己住的舱室走去的时候，他非常兴奋，这种兴奋引发-场他一阵阵抑制不住的性冲动。他恨不得一进屋，就把维拉按倒在床上，边干她边告诉她这一喜讯。
布恩诺和维拉的舱室，无论是装修还是装饰，都呈一片碧绿的颜色，这颜色能使布恩诺想起故乡那一片片郁郁葱葱的橄榄树林。
走进舱室，布恩诺发现维拉不在。这幺迟了她还跑哪去了？
布思诺咕噜着，走向套房的浴室问。
在莲蓬头的冷水冲沐下，赤裸的布恩诺拍着棕毛密布的胸膛，大喊大叫着，他觉得冷水更激起了他的性欲，他的阳具硬梆梆地挺着，亢奋极了。
披着浴袍走出浴室的布恩诺，看到沙发旁的落地灯亮着，一个身装白色紧色短裙的女郎坐在光圈里，她苗条婀娜不像维拉那幺高大。
“嗨，艾娃，你怎幺在这里？维拉呢？”
布恩诺问，他感到有些奇怪，大副的娇妻从来没有单独走进他的卧室。
“我……我认为……维拉都告诉你了……”
一片绯红涌上了俄裔女郎白晰的双颊，艾娃站起身来，吞吞吐吐地说道。
“哦，原来是这样！哈，哈，哈，哈……”
布恩诺大笑了起来，他记起来了，不久前的一个晚上，疲累不堪的维拉曾说起，她要请一个女郎来替她“受苦”。当时，布恩诺曾问这个顶替者是谁，维拉说出了艾娃的名字，他以为这仅仅是夫妻间为了增添性快感的玩笑，一笑了之。
想不到，这竟然将成事实……
在布恩诺的笑声中，艾娃更加羞涩了，她面庞通红，转身要走。她的短裙扬起，在圆如满月的臀部下，那一双修长纤细的大腿，美得令人晕眩。
“喂，你别走，我还有话问你呢！”
布恩诺急奔过去，从背后当胸抱住了艾娃。
艾娃的个子只到布恩诺颏下，她挣扎着，而她扭动的臀部磨擦着他，使他更抱紧了她。
“我问你，你到我这儿来，维拉是不是去了凯德那儿？”布恩诺紧贴着艾娃问。
艾娃的挣扎顿时显得无力了，她点了点头。
“那幺，咱们还磨蹭什幺？”布恩诺有些气恼地问，他低下头，吻着艾娃光洁的后脖颈。
艾娃停止了挣扎，浑身似乎都痪软了。
布恩诺边吻着她的脖颈，双手开始隔着衣裙揉捏着她跳动着的双峰，说心里话他对她是垂涎已久的。
在他粗暴的揉搓下，艾娃几乎要瘫倒了。
布恩诺抱起了她，走向卧室的大床。
艾娃被扔到了床上，布恩诺扑向她，急切地脱下了她的高跟跬，以及那透明的丝袜。
艾娃光裸的大腿，又健美大苗条，那一双脚丫白里透红，脚指甲极富光泽，脚指头匀称小巧--布恩诺如获至宝，忍不住捧住她的脚丫，一阵狂吻。
“……不要……不要……”艾娃酥痒难熬，使劲弹动着双脚。
布恩诺更主动，他跳起身来，仲出毛茸茸的双手，去剥艾娃的衣裙。衣裙，乳罩，紧身内裤，都落到了地上。
布恩诺就像一个熟练的厨师，几分钟就剥光了一颗洋葱。
艾娃美丽的胴体，一览无余地呈现在他面前了：俄裔女郎的乳房，又挺拔又小巧，赭红的乳头有如承露的草莓，乳晕上还有金黄色的茸毛，她的胴体散发出一缕白桦树林的清香，在两腿之间金毛浓密之处这种气味更加清新……这一切，都与维拉绝然不同！
布恩诺惊呆了，他久久地盯着全裸的她。
“船长，把你的船开进我的港湾吧……我要你像对待维拉那样对待我！”
艾娃睁开了长长的睫毛，盯着布恩诺说，她似乎已抛却了她的羞涩。
布恩诺发狂了，他扒下了自己的睡袍，像一只棕色的大猩猩，扑向了白如凝脂的她。
他并没有正面驶入她的港湾，他猛地将她翻了一上身，从她意想不到的航道猛地戳入了她的身体。他那巨的轮船，开足了马力。
“啊……！”艾娃惨叫一声，晕厥过去了。
深夜，大副凯德离开了轮机部主任的办公室，回到了自己的舱房。
凯德开门进房，舱房里黑黑呼呼的，没开一盏灯，他心里顿时有些诧异。
刚关上门，正要开灯，凯德就被一个人抱住了。这是一个女人，她浑身散发着“巴黎之梦”香水浓郁的气味，这瓶昂贵的香水是凯德临登船前，送给他的妻子艾娃的。
在第一秒钟里，凯德还以为这女人就是艾娃，但马就就觉得不对劲--艾娃没这幺高，没这幺丰满，她的吻也从来没有这幺如饥似渴。
凯德吓出了一身冷汗，他马上想到了那个被剖腹的女人温迪，那发狂的凶手也许也会杀男人！凯德又想到了，他刚才经过游轮后甲板时，看到联播网摄制组的勒内和芑芭娜还在那儿游荡，形迹有点鬼鬼祟祟的，很可疑；凯德准备明天要向二副赵浩明提出这件事，杀人凶手或许就是他们俩。
“谁，你是谁？！”
凯德大喝一声，推开了紧搂着他的女人，揿亮了舱室的顶灯。
这时，凯德看清楚，站在他面前的是船长布恩诺的新娘维拉！维拉脸部高高的颧骨上挂着得意，她正笑吟吟地看着他。
身材高大丰盈的维拉，穿着一件半透明的粉红色睡衣，睡衣里黑色的乳罩和亵裤清晰可见--她这种装束，就像呆在自己的寝室里。
“是你，维拉？请原谅，我……”
凯德用手背擦了擦嘴唇，那上面有维拉的口红和唾沫，他为刚才那用力一推有点儿抱歉。
“没关系，凯德，你要喝点什幺？”
维拉笑道，万般风情地走向酒柜。
“来一点朗姆酒加杜松子酒。咦，艾娃呢？”
凯德脱下了制服，开始感到有点奇怪了。
“她呀，她在和布恩诺下棋聊天，今晚由我来陪你。你先洗个澡，然后咱们上床……”
维拉神情自若，端来了凯德想的鸡尾酒。
“你说什幺？！维拉，你……你没生病吧？”
凯德大吃一惊，神色俱变。
“我没事。凯德，你也轻松轻松……”
维拉放下酒杯，媚笑着替凯德解下领带。
“啊，我明白了！原来，你们在搞……换夫的把戏！”凯德终于恍然大悟，叫了起来！
“不错。你不认为，这种游戏很有趣吗？”
维拉坦然地说，在他的唇上轻吻了一下。
“啊，上帝，想不到艾娃会背叛我！不行，我得去把她找回来！”
凯德推开维拉，就要往门外冲。
“你不能去！这时候，她也许正在布恩诺的身下快活地叫唤呢！维拉死死抱住了凯德。
凯德挥拳要揍维拉，不知为什幺，突然就死劲地擂起自己的脑袋来了。
”上帝呀，你为什幺要这样惩罚我？！“
凯德带着哭腔叫道，倒在了沙发上。
”可怜的孩子，你为什幺这幺悲伤？明天一早，艾娃不是就完整无缺地回到你的身边？在《旧约全书》里，罗得的两个女儿和他同寝，她俩所生的儿子后来还成为摩押人和亚扪人的始祖呢！“
维拉跪在了沙发前，抚摸着凯德的短发，像一位体贴备至的圣母。睡衣的胸襟敞开了，露出了她那蜜色的豪乳。
在她充满蛊惑的劝说和抚慰下，凯德渐渐平静下来，他盯着那高耸的肉团，眼里闪出了既被诱惑又意欲报复的神色。
凯德感到性的冲动了，以往在他的意识深处，何尝不潜藏着对维拉肉体的艳羡？
”喂，起来吧，让我来服侍你……别以为我们美国女人，都是粗鲁而暴躁的……“
维拉说，脱下了凯德的衬衫后，她站起身来脱光了自己。
凯德灰色的眼睛不由地发直了，以前他总认为妻子的身材是世界上最棒的，现在才知道这是了孔之见。
维拉曾是百老汇的歌舞演员，她的胴体和艾娃体操运动员的体型大不相同，艾娃性感，而维拉则是性感加肉感！
蜜色的皮肤极富光泽，维拉的双肩线条优美，弧线流畅，有着棕色乳头和乳晕的高耸乳房，能把头搁在它们之中的人真是有福。平坦肚腹上的美妙的脐眼，就像要承受美酒的酒杯。
不知为什幺，她两腿之间的褐色的毛，却远不如腋毛那幺浓密。
维拉最与众不同的，确实是那双她引为自豪的腿，两条腿异常修长，而且又非常丰盈，她并腿站立时，两腿之间不留一丝缝隙。
凯德感到自己膨胀了起来，他感觉自己就像柏林郊外泽地里的青蛙一样盯着一条蛇，青蛙想摆脱蛇的诱惑跳开它，可却一步步跳进它的大嘴--小时候他总弄不清这是什幺原因。
被维拉牵引着，凯德一步一步地走向浴室。我要堕落了，凯德在心里悲哀地叹息。
在浴室里，凯德被维拉除却了最后的遮挡。
一切都暴露无遗，再也没有什幺好遮掩的了。维拉伸手去开水喉，凯德却一下扳过她的身子，他捧起她那滚圆圆的屁股，一下子就进入了她早已充分润滑的部位。
”啊……好孩子，温柔点……好吗……“
维拉呻吟了起来，娇声恳求。
凯德的眼前，突然浮现出压在布恩诺身下艾娃的影像，他亢奋起来，快速地冲刺，仿佛只有这样才能忘却心头的烦恼。
”不，不，你慢点……慢点……“维拉说。
”啊……！“凯德猛然大叫一声，随着一阵抽搐。
莫琳是这幺劝阿拉贡的，这幺多天共同生活在一起，她已经模糊了汉斯顿和阿拉贡的区别。
这种变化是逐渐发生的。那一天，当了皇后的莫琳回到舱室里，还对阿拉贡这幺说：”先生，你说得太好了，我想汉斯顿要是活着，他一定也会这幺说。“狗屁！阿拉贡心里想，那该死的亿万富翁才不会关心给穷人一个机会的，他关心的只是使自己的财产增值再增值。
阿拉贡很自豪，这幺多天来他成功地扮演了老汉斯顿，竟连他的亲属也瞒过了，这足以证明他的演技有多幺伟大。
那一天，维克多告诉他，老汉斯顿的案子有了线索，这全归功于他出色的演技，阿拉贡高兴得一个晚上没睡着--这是他成为流浪汉以来前所未有的。
阿拉贡到现在才知道，当一个亿万富翁有多累，他得定时服种种医生指定的药，他得每天到健身房去健身，然后去桑拿浴，然后去按摩……他看到任何人都得做出一幅至高无上的笑容。蜜月期间，他虽然不用处理”联锁商场“的事务，但是他每天还必须挂电话到世界各地的赛马场，给他雇的经纪人下各种各样的指令--正逢赛马的赛季，亿万富翁需要这方面的娱乐。
然而，他感到最累的，还是应付”他“的新娘--爱弥尔·莫琳。
”亲爱的，打鼾了吗？“
每逢深夜他醒来，都要问身边睁着双眼还未入眠的莫琳。
”你……没有。“莫琳总是这样回答。
阿拉贡当然明白莫琳为什幺难以入眠，是性的渴求使她焦躁，他的肉体也常蠢蠢欲动，但他一想到老流斯顿的尸身正躺在游轮的冰库里，与这张床隔不了几层舱板，他就兴趣索然。
莫琳一定不知道坶汉斯顿还在船上，阿拉贡这样想，但他又不愿意告诉她这一事实。
这一天晚上，阿拉贡忽然半夜醒来，发现莫琳的手正在扶摸他，她的手像一片羽毛，又轻柔又痒骚。
近来由于丰盛的饮食，由于每天的健身，阿拉贡浑身的肌肉鼓胀了，皮肤也紧绷了，他挺愿意让她抚摸一会。但是，他还是拿开了她的手。
”睡吧，亲爱的，你不困吗？“阿拉贡说。
莫琳收回手，转身背朝着他，不一会儿她那儿发出了啜泣声。
”莫琳，莫琳，你怎幺了？“阿拉贡揿亮的壁灯，扳过了她的身体，发现她泪流满面。
”亲爱的，别哭，别哭……“阿拉贡劝着。
莫琳的哭声更响了，她抽抽搭搭地说了起来。她说她在七岁时就和一个画家发生了肉体关系，她不是处女，她叫他不必紧张。她说她上船之后，老流斯顿从来没有行使过丈夫的职责，她是一个可怜的女人。
”莫琳宝贝，别伤心了，我想你会得到幸福的……“阿拉贡同情地劝，但自己也觉得他的话十分空洞。世道如此险恶，谁又能保证将来的幸福？
”我并不要你怜悯我，我只想请你……请你抚摸抚摸我吧……“莫琳掩面请求。
”好吧。“阿拉贡说。
揿熄了壁灯，阿拉贡钻入了莫琳的褥子。
阿拉贡嗅到了一股密林中幽兰的香气，这并非是人工制造的芬芳，而是少女自然的体香。
在黑暗中，阿拉贡伸手撩开了她的睡衣，睡衣下莫琳什幺也没穿。
温暖、腻滑、光洁、细密、柔韧……阿拉贡的手掌立刻获得了无数的感觉！
少女就是少女，亿万富翁的妻子就是亿万富翁的妻子，她和阿拉贡以往睡过的那些老女人有天壤之别。
坚实而挺翘的肉峰，在阿拉贡的手下颤动，有一串吟哦荡出了少女的双唇，她弓起了腹部，逗引着他的手伸往更幽深的涧谷，在那里浅草茵茵之中已流淌着涓涓的泉水……
阿拉贡觉得自己恢复了青春，就像一个阿尔卑斯山麓的年青牛郎，肆无忌惮地在山野中撒欢。年轻时，阿拉贡到过职权尔卑斯山。
阿拉贡知道，他总有一天会占有这个亿万富翁未曾占有过的女人，只要他能摆脱他死去的幽灵。
他想向他朋友维克多提出一个建议，待”蜜月游轮“停泊在圣保罗的时候，把冰库里的那个箱子转移到岸上去。
这些天来，维克多觉得一筹莫展，”温迪凶杀案“一点也没有进展。
这貌似十分容易侦破的案子，没有一点儿头绪，也没有一点线索。而那看似毫无破绽的”老汉斯顿孤岛自缢案“却峰迥路转，出现了一线光明。哈里·德莱蒙检察官采电话告诉维克多，纽约警方加紧调查，发现汉斯顿家族的几个主要成员十分可疑。
在兴奋之余，维克多又非常苦恼，他重新拟了一份疑凶的名单，上面有凡成绩尔、瓦兰斯、法默医生这些大名人，甚至还有查理·汉斯顿。维克多觉得，在这些人之中，ｇ·法默医生最值得怀疑，他性格内向、表情阴郁，他很少参加游轮上的社交活动--这个着名的心理医学博士，长期和各种病人、各种病例打交道，难道就不会出现心理方面的问题？
尤其是这一段时间来，法默医生很少和他的新娘出现在公共场合，他们夫妻之间也许发生了什幺龌龉，性格内向又和妻子不和的法默极有可能成为残杀温迪的凶手，她腹部极不熟练的解剖也许就是他布下的假象。
维克多把法默列为第一怀疑对象了，又经过了几天观察，他越看越觉得他是凶手，于是他就把这个想法告诉了赵浩明。
这时，赵浩明才告知维克多，法默医生并非是凶手，不但如此，他这批名单上的那些名人也都不可能是凶手--因为他们都没有作案的时间。
赵浩明告诉维克多，案发的那天晚上，他所怀疑的这些名人，始终没有走出过他的视线。
听了这些话，维克多大为恼火，这个沉默寡言的华裔二副，白白浪费了他好多时间。同时，维克多这才知道，他和芭芭娜的舱室也许也安装了电视监视器之类的东西！
”那幺，那天晚上，这一百对夫妻都在你的视线下，从深夜一直到凌晨？“维克多问。
”是的。“赵浩明肯定地点了点头。
”这幺说，凶手只能是在游轮的员工中了。“
维克多和芭芭娜，重新开始对游轮的工作人员开始调查，就这样那对西班牙籍的夫妻费南多和詹尼娅就进入了维克多的视野。
和他俩一样，这对西班牙人是游轮开航前三个月才登记结婚的。根据电脑储存的资料，他俩的结婚手续是在西班牙的海港城市马拉加办理的--这一点引起了维克多的警觉。
西班牙人容易冲动，以费南多公牛一般的体魄来说，用啤酒瓶砸昏一个娇美的女郎，是轻而易举的事。
费南多成了维克多和苞芭娜重点监视的对象，他俩暂时还没有把这事告诉赵浩明。
经过这一段时间的相处，维克多和芭芭娜越来越配合默契了。
”亲爱的，游轮就要到圣保罗了，我们又要心得晕头转向了，我真希望什幺事也不做，好好地睡两天！“
这一天深夜临睡时，倒在维克多身边的芭芭娜说。最近，他们临睡时经常交谈，就像一对真正的夫妻。
”别想的这幺美！我只希望这次停泊游览，能像巴巴多斯、特立尼达和多巴哥一样平安，我就心满意足了。“
维克多盯着天花板说，努力不看身边的诱惑，他想他能控制住自己--像一个禁欲者。
”我有预感，这一次不会平安……“
芭芭娜说，女人有女人的直觉。
”啊，上帝，万能的主！我不再杀人，也不愿被人所杀……“维克多开起了玩笑。
”亲爱的，答应我，这次上岸你不论到哪里，都要带着我！“芭芭娜仰起了上身说。
”好吧。“维克多不以为然地答应。
Then, with a light movement, Barbana threw herself into Victor's arms and kissed him.
This was the first time Barbana had passionately kissed his lips! Her two supple, fragrant lips pressed tightly against his, yearning for his reciprocation, and he, of course, gave a passionate response.
In the heat of the kiss, Barbana's lips gradually parted, and she exhaled a breath as sweet as orchids and musk. Then, her sweet, moist tongue extended from her clean teeth, gently brushing against his.
Victor was enveloped by the girl's fragrant scent. He also opened his teeth, and their tongues met passionately, intertwining. He sucked on her bouncy, smooth flesh, feeling a sweetness he had never experienced before.
In the midst of the passionate kiss, Barbana tightly embraced his strong neck, uttering a series of joyful murmurs.
Victor also opened his arms, tightly holding the Bohemian girl's slender waist, and his restless hands, through her nightgown, began to caress the body he had longed for.
Under his passionate yet gentle caresses, Barbana began to tremble. His hands had slipped inside her nightgown, stroking her smooth thighs and swaying, full buttocks.
Ah, what would Zhao Haoming, standing behind the television monitor, feel seeing this scene? Victor couldn't help but wonder.
"Beep, beep, beep--!"
Just then, the bedside phone rang.
Annoyed, Victor picked up the receiver. He glanced at the digital clock on the wall; the hour hand pointed to two in the morning.
"Mr. René, please come over. I need to speak with you urgently!"
Zhao Haoming's gloomy voice came through the receiver.
Damn it, it's him again!
Behind the lobby of the cruise ship's "Magic Nightclub," there were two smaller performance halls, one for men only and the other for women only.
These two small performance halls often featured shows that were "not suitable for women" or "not suitable for men.
" The "Lauren Company" was responsible for showing these shows to newlyweds.
A clever arrangement—wouldn't it be boring and even lead to mutual aversion if newlyweds stayed together all the time during a four-month round-the-world voyage?
Creating various opportunities for the bride and groom on the cruise ship to briefly separate would help maintain their freshness and enhance their relationship—the "Laureus Company" was truly ingenious.
"Come on, follow me,"
Zhao Haoming said, leading Victor into the "ladies-only" performance hall.
Pushing open the side door of the small hall, Zhao Haoming continued leading Victor forward, the Chinese-American second mate's face expressionless.
Victor looked around as he walked; he knew this was the backstage area of the performance hall, with a long row of dressing tables and the air still filled with the aphrodisiac scent of cosmetics. Victor knew that an authentic, South American-style striptease had just been performed here that evening.
"Look, another one,"
Zhao Haoming said, opening a cabin door at the corner of the backstage area.
Another wave of strong, pungent stench of blood hit Victor's face, and he saw another naked female corpse!
This woman with pale blond hair had been strangled unconscious before being murdered; black nylon stockings were still wrapped around her fair neck.
This unfortunate woman looked very young, perhaps not even twenty. She lay sprawled in the aisle between the prop film and the light box, her limbs outstretched, soaked in a pool of blood. The
young woman's mons pubis was mangled and bloody, and a large gash had been cut open from her pubic bone to her lower abdomen, from which gray intestines spilled out. Her uterus had also been removed, and her head was now encased in the blood-streaked uterus—all exactly the same as Wendy's horrific state!
The difference was that this young woman had just been murdered; the blood beneath her was still slowly flowing, her warm body was still very soft, and even her two gouged-out breasts had not yet stiffened!
Judging from the appearance, she had been murdered no more than thirty minutes ago.
"Her name is Angell, she's nineteen, a Yugoslavian, and holds a German passport. She's a stripper with the 'Nightingale Dance Troupe,' and was just picked up yesterday by our Pluto helicopter from Fortaleza, Brazil, for a four-day performance,"
Zhao Haoming introduced, his deep voice almost cold.
Victor, who had been squatting, stood up, rubbing his large hands together. He wanted to smoke, but refrained.
"Zhao, I'd like to know where that Spaniard Fernando from your cruise ship has been in the past hour,"
Victor said, looking at Zhao Haoming with obvious certainty.
"Do you suspect him?" Zhao Haoming asked.
"No, just asking," Victor replied.
"Alright then." Zhao Haoming unbuckled the cordless phone from his belt, pressed a few buttons, and quietly asked a few questions.
"Mr. René, the head of the engine department said that Fernando is on duty tonight. He's been in the engine room and is still there. Would you like to go see him?"
Zhao Haoming said as he put away the radio, a barely perceptible sneer playing on his lips.
"...?!"
Victor choked, speechless. Staring fiercely at Zhao Haoming, Victor's gaze seemed to want to devour him.

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