The sabotage wasn't motivated by greed, but good old fashioned vindictiveness and revenge.

Here’s what really happened...

News of Cassandra's attack preceded the group. When she finally arrived at the gala, she was met with a roar of murmuring. A few people applauded weakly as she took her seat though most stared at the CEO, murmuring and pointing. Cameras flashed as guests live-streamed her entrance, Diane fussing over her like a flitting hummingbird.

Speculation ran rampant. Stockholders and journalists alike wondered what was happening behind the scenes at Majestic Voyages and more than one of them wondered what shady things the company was into that got Cassandra attacked.

Violetta, who had been eerily silent throughout the ordeal, rose abruptly and left the room. Her face was pale, her usual dramatics--and her phone--absent. 

Maisel, standing near Captain Anders, shook her head. “Something isn’t right,” she murmured.

Anders nodded. “We’ll report the activist group to Frontex and the Coast Guard.”

Maisel’s gaze flicked toward Cassandra, who had taken the stage despite Diane's protestations. Maisel spotted Mark Caldwell at the far end of the hall, phone in one hand while the other tried to plug his ear.

She stepped away from the captain and made her way toward Mark, whose brow was furrowed as he listened intently to the voice on the other end of the call. Cassandra, meanwhile, was poised and confident despite the trauma she'd endured. While Maisel caught Mark's eye, Cassandra began to speak.

"Can I have a word, Mr. Caldwell?"

A few minutes later, a commotion erupted near the stage. Cassandra’s voice trailed off mid-sentence. She turned toward the disruption, seeing her CFO, irritation flashing across her face. “What is going on?” she demanded.

Mark, clutching his phone, was grinning. “Your attack,” he said. “It's garnering sympathy. Reservations are flooding in. The stock is recovering. Analysts predict a full rebound—and maybe even an increase.”

Cassandra's head snapped up. “What? That’s impossible!”

Mark looked at her, eyebrow raised. "You don't seem pleased with the news."

The crowd turned back to Cassandra, and for the first time, Maisel saw the stern CEO's facade crack.

There was a beat of silence. Maisel knew instinctively that was her cue. She stepped onto the stage and, for the first time in years, into the spotlight. Her voice cut easily through the murmuring of the crowd.

"I'll tell you why she's not pleased." Maisel had to suppress a smile as the crowd subconsciously leaned closer, eager for her next words.

"Because Cassandra Lockwood is the one who's been sabotaging this ship."

Gasps filled the room. Cassandra, to her credit, recovered quickly, arching a brow in incredulity. “That's ridiculous,” she said smoothly. “I was attacked.”

Maisel smiled. “Yes. And yet, I find it remarkable that for someone who had supposedly been knocked unconscious, you woke up the second someone touched you.”

Cassandra’s jaw tightened, but she stayed silent. 

Maisel turned to the crowd and found her light. “Let’s review, shall we? The lifeboat's rope was cut, not frayed. The refrigeration system failed, despite multiple safeguards. The navigation system was tampered with--"

Maisel paused as the crowd reacted to that announcement. It hadn't been public knowledge.

"But not to the point where it was an actual threat. Three sabotages, in three areas of the ship that any regular guest would have drawn attention if they approached." Maisel turned back to Cassandra. "But would the CEO of the company draw undue attention? On her flagship ship?" Her tongue stumbled over the awkward line. I'll have to have a word with the playwright. She smothered a chuckle.

"That doesn't prove anything."

This time, Maisel did smile. Despite her poor acting, Cassandra made for an excellent antagonist.

Murmuring rippled through the crowd. Maisel let the moment stretch, savoring the building anticipation. Then, she turned to Diane, who, of course, was nearby. “Diane, will you please join us?”

Diane stiffened as the room full of people turned their attention upon her. Her eyes darted toward Cassandra. After a beat, Diane took a hesitant step forward, then another, until she stood beside Maisel onstage.

Maisel pulled the supposed "activist" note from her pocket and handed it to Diane. “Do you recognize this handwriting?”

Cassandra scoffed. “It’s written in marker. You can’t match handwriting from that.”

Maisel ignored her. Diane, staring at the note, was silent for a long moment. Then, slowly, she exhaled. “The E's look like backwards threes. Just like Cassandra's. It's her handwriting."

She delivered the line while looking at the note, but overall, Maisel was happy with the outcome.

The room erupted. Not with applause, but it was satisfying nonetheless.

"But why?"

The question, spoken by a very confused CFO, quieted the room.

Maisel turned her attention to the front row, where Richard Lockwood and his guest were sitting.

"I'm not 100% sure... but I suspect her goal was to significantly lower her net worth--temporarily of course--prior to divorce proceedings. After all, Cassandra and Richard married young and poor. I doubt there's a prenup protecting her assets. And to be honest," she said, aiming a thunderous scowl at the man, "I can't say I entirely blame her for the scheming."

Two of Captain Anders’ security personnel stepped up behind Cassandra. The CEO bristled at their presence.

Richard Lockwood pulled his gaze away from Maisel’s scrutiny and turned to his wife. “Cassie… Don’t tell me what she says is true?”

Cassandra’s stony facade finally broke and the angry, broken woman peeked through the cracks. “Oh, please, Richard. Don’t act shocked. You know exactly who I am. At one point you loved me because of it. I gave you everything,” her scornful glare turned toward Richard’s young guest. “And this is how you repay me.”

Richard’s mouth worked silently for a moment, his cultivated mien of carefree man of leisure slipping briefly until he plastered a smarmy grin back on his face. “No, Cassie. You only gave me half. But now… I think I’ll take everything after all.”

Captain Angers nodded and one of the security officers placed a firm but gentle hand on Cassandra’s forearm. She jerked out of his grasp.

Her laugh wiped the smile off her husband’s face. “Is that what you think? After thirty years you don’t think I have a contingency? I signed the necessary paperwork before we left port. This time tomorrow, all my assets will be liquidated and donated to charity.”

The color drained from Robert’s face and he stuttered. “Y-you can’t do that! The court will never allow it. I’ll file an injunction–you’re clearly not capable of making your own decisions.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Maisel said, smirking. “She looks pretty cogent to me. What do you think, Captain?”

Captain Anders’ well-trimmed beard hid his smile. “She appears to be of sound mind.” 

Cassandra turned to Maisel, clearly surprised at the unexpected support. The embattled CEO gave a curt nod. This time when the security officer tried to guide her away, she didn’t fight.

Richard Lockwood’s mouth worked like a gasping fish. His date had wilted and slipped into the gawking crowd.

A loud gasp turned Maisel toward the railing.

“The fjords!”

Violetta, dressed in an eye-catching evening dress that showed more skin than Maisel had shown in a long time, had her cell phone out and camera on. Behind the travel influencer, Lysefjord framed her, lit brilliantly by the late afternoon sun.

As she watched the young woman perform for her invisible audience, Maisel smiled. This turned out to be a very exciting cruise after all.

Keep an eye on your inbox next month for the next Cluesletter. Happy sleuthing!