A pleasure cruise had become a trip into terror by the time Mike Shayne boarded the Queen Elizabeth II. A brilliant English scientist sat drunk in the bar waiting for death. A beautiful, sexy American girl kept popping up very much alive in other people’s beds. And a shadow crew of killers haunted the corridors, serving the passengers their daily ration of murder. The storm warnings were up, the chips were down — and only Mike Shayne could steer the great liner off a disaster course