Maddon's Rock (21 page)

I didn’t reply for at that moment Hendrik appeared on deck. It was strange to see that tall, loose-knit, powerful figure again. Such an infinity of time seemed to have passed since I had watched him nervously giving evidence against us. Evans followed close at his heels. The little Welshman seemed arguing with him about something. At the top of the gangway Hendrik suddenly
turned. I could see the scar on his cheek. The light of the naked bulb fell full on it. “Weel, it’s the Cap’n’s orders,” he snapped. “Somebody’s got to stay on board and see that he doesna go ashore. I stayed on board last night. The Cap’n the night before. It’s your turn to-night. He can have all the drink in the world, but on board.”

“But I tell you, man, I’ve got a date,” the little Welshman cried. “Why could you not tell me I was to jolly well stay on board yesterday?”

“Because I thought Jukes would be on board,” Hendrik snarled. “But the Cap’n’s sent Jukes over to Jarrow, so ye’ll jist have to do wi’oot yer lassie fer the nicht.” And with that he crossed the gangway and went quickly down the wharf.

Evans stood on the gangway mouthing curses at his officer. His little eyes looked quickly about him. Then he disappeared below.

“That’s Halsey, Hendrik and Jukes off the tug,” Bert whispered to me. “D’yer s’ppose it’s Rankin they was talkin’ aba’t?”

“I think so,” I replied. “Hendrik said he could have all the drink in the world, but on board. It looks as though he’s on the bottle in a big way and they don’t trust him ashore.”

“’E always was a horrible drunk,” Bert muttered vindictively.

Evans suddenly appeared on deck. He had a hat pulled rakishly over one eye and he’d put a collar and tie on. He looked neat and dapper as he glanced warily up and down the wharf. Then he crossed the gang-plank and hurried towards the lights of the town. “Blimey! Bit o’ luck that, mate,” Bert whispered. “Come on—wot you waitin’ for? Ain’t nobody on board ’cept Mr. Rankin.”

I don’t know why I hesitated. As Bert said, it was a bit of luck. But from the very first day in Dartmoor that I had begun to plan escape, I had always thought in terms of getting Rankin ashore. Once we went aboard the
Tempest
we ran the risk of being trapped there.

Bert tugged at my sleeve. “Come on, fer Gawd’s sake,” he said. “Nah’s our chance.”

The wharf was deserted. The gang-plank shone white in the wind-swung light.
Money is the root of all evil
, a girl crooned in a husky-sweet voice over the blaring radio. The water pattered loquaciously against the piles. We slid out of the shelter of the crates. The gang-plank sounded hollow under our feet. Then we were on the rusty deck-plating of the tug. We went forward to the bridge accommodation. I paused in the entrance to look back. The wharf was just as it had appeared when we were concealed behind the crates. It did not seem to have noticed that we had slipped on board the
Tempest
.

We made straight for the sound of the radio. I flung open the cabin door. It was Rankin all right. His heavy body lolled on the bunk, the muscles slack, the hands drooping listlessly from the wrists. The neck of his shirt was unbuttoned to the waist showing a white, hairless chest and the first folds of his stomach. His face was white save for two hectic spots on either cheek. His eyes were moist and bloodshot. His forehead glistened. The bowl of an electric heater glared redly. On a table beside the bunk stood a bottle of whisky, a cracked china jug of water and a tooth glass.

“Come in,” he mumbled. “Come in. What d’you want?”

He was drunk. He didn’t recognise us. I motioned Bert to close the door. “Close the porthole and switch the radio up,” I told him. I picked up the jug of water and flung it in Rankin’s face. The sight of him sprawled there brought a year’s suppressed anger bubbling to the surface. His larded face gasped at the shock of the water and the little oyster eyes opened wide. “I know you,” he squealed. His voice was pitched high and there was fear in it. Probably that’s why he was on the bottle—why Halsey didn’t trust him ashore. He was scared.

I seized him by the collar of his jacket and pulled him towards me. “You remember us, eh?” I cried. “Do you know where we’ve been? Dartmoor! We
escaped last night. We’ve come here to get the truth out of you. The truth, do you hear?” He seemed too terrified to speak. I slapped him across the face. “Do you hear?” I shouted.

He pursed his bloodless lips. “Yes,” he breathed. His breath reeked of whisky. I flung him back so that his head crashed against the wall. “Now,” I said, “you’re going to tell us what happened after we left the
Trikkala
.”

He moaned and his smooth pudgy hand felt the back of his head. “Nothing happened,” he murmured. “We abandoned ship and got blown——”

I leaned forward then and collared hold of his jacket again. He fought me off and I hit him across the mouth with my fist. He cried out. But I seized hold of him by the wrist and, with a quick twist, brought his arm up into the small of his back. “Now then, let’s have the truth,” I shouted. “If you don’t tell me the truth, Rankin, I’ll break every bone in your body.”

I’m not very proud of what followed. We beat the wretched man up pretty badly. But I wanted the truth. And I had a year in prison to incite my fists to smash that white, unhealthy face. In the end his fear of us over-rode his fear of Halsey. “Was Number Two boat seaworthy?” I demanded for the third time.

“I don’t know,” he moaned.

“Oh yes, you do,” I insisted. “Was that boat seaworthy? Come on, tell me the truth.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about it.” He struggled and then writhed as I brought the whole weight of my body on to his twisted arm. “No,” he screamed. No, it wasn’t.”

“That’s better.” I relaxed.

“It wasn’t anything to do with me. I only did what Captain Halsey told me. It wasn’t my idea. I couldn’t have done anything anyway. He’d have killed me. He was mad—mad to get at all that silver. I just did what he told me. I tell you it was nothing to do with me. It wasn’t my idea.”

“What wasn’t your idea?”

But the sudden spate of words had dried up. He stared at me in obstinate silence.

I returned to my original line of inquiry.

“Were either of the boats seaworthy?” I asked him.

His little bloodshot eyes looked up at me with a grotesque expression, half crafty, half pleading. I wrenched at his arm again and repeated my question.

“No.” His reply was like a strange cry forced from his lips.

“Did Captain Halsey know they weren’t seaworthy?” I still had the whole weight of my body thrusting at his twisted arm.

“Yes,” he screamed.

“When did you find out?” I asked then. He struggled. I heard Bert’s fist hit him again. I felt sick. But we had to get the truth out of him. I clenched my teeth. “When did you find out?”

“When I reported to the bridge,” he answered thickly.

So—he knew the boats were unseaworthy. Halsey had told him. Twenty-three men had been murdered. And this stupid fool could have saved them. I saw red then. I wrenched his arm so that he was doubled up with his head to the floor. He began to scream with the terror of what he had told us. Bert silenced him with his foot. “What a beastly swine,” Bert muttered. He was beside himself with anger.

I pulled Rankin back to the bunk. “Now you’ve told us so much,” I said, “you’d better tell us the rest. And make it quick. You’re as guilty of the murder of those men as if you’d slit their throats with your own hands. What did Halsey offer you to keep your rotten little mouth shut?”

“All right, I’ll tell you,” Rankin breathed. “I’ll tell you everything.”

“What did he offer you?” I repeated.

“Money,” he replied. “A share of the silver.” And then in quick succession, “It wasn’t any of my business. He was the captain. It wasn’t my idea, I tell you. He’d have killed me along with the rest if I hadn’t done what
he’d said. I couldn’t do anything to save them. I couldn’t help them. You must believe that. It was nothing to do with me. I——”

“Shut up!” My voice was thick with anger and the horror of what he’d done and what he was. “You were a Warrant Officer in the Royal Navy. You could have stopped it if you’d any guts—and if you’d wanted to. You’re as guilty as Halsey.”

He stared at me unbelievingly, his eyes wide with fear.

“Now then,” I said. “When we’d abandoned ship—what happened then?”

“We—we got into the Captain’s boat and drifted——” His voice trailed away as I caught hold of his collar. The way he spoke, the look in his eyes—I knew he wasn’t speaking the truth. Then before I had hit him, he cringed away and said, “All right. I’ll tell you. I knew it had to come. I’ve known that all along. I’ve been scared stiff ever since it happened.”

“Well?” I asked.

“We—we got the
Trikkala’s
engines going again. There was a device for sealing off the hole in the ship’s side. It was all planned.”

“All planned?” I echoed. Then all the little inexplicable things on the
Trikkala
fell into place. “You mean it wasn’t a mine?” I asked.

“No. Just cans packed with cordite.”

“And then?”

“We sailed.”

“Where to?” I asked. I was excited now. Here at last was proof. The
Trikkala
afloat and hidden in some port under another name. “Where to?” I repeated.

“I don’t know,” he began. Then, as he saw me leaning towards him, he hurried on, “No—I just meant I don’t know the position.” I had seized his arm again. “Let go,” he screamed in a panic. “Let go, for God’s sake.”

“Where did you sail to?” I asked again.

“Towards Spitzbergen,” he murmured. “An island called Maddon’s Rock—near Bear Island. We beached her there—through a gap in the reefs—on a little patch of beach to the east of the island.”

“’E’s lyin’, Jim,” Bert whispered. “Beached ’er on an island—that’s a jolly likely tale, I don’t fink. I can see that brute, ’Alsey, leavin’ ’alf a million quid lyin’ rottin’ on an island for a year.”

Rankin heard him. “It’s the truth,” he blubbered, half crying with fear. “I tell you it’s the truth.” And then as Bert leaned over him he added quickly, “We beached her on Maddon’s Rock. That’s the truth, I swear it. We beached her, silver and all.” He was almost whimpering with fear.

I pulled Bert back. “He’d never make up a story as incredible as that,” I said. “Having told us enough to hang himself, he wouldn’t have lied about the rest.”

Bert brow was furrowed. “It don’t seem ter make sense to me,” he muttered. His head jerked up. A door had banged. “Wot’s that?” he asked.

I switched the radio down. Footsteps sounded in the passageway. They stopped outside the door of the cabin. I saw the handle turn. There was no time to do anything. We just stood there. The door opened, framing the figure of a man in the dark gap. Gilt buttons gleamed and a collar showed white. The rest merged into the background. Then he stepped forward into the cabin.

It was Halsey.

He had taken in the scene at a glance. His eyes jerked to the handle of the door. And then back to Rankin. If there’d been a key in the lock he’d have slammed the door to and locked us in. But there wasn’t. He stood in the doorway and for a moment he was uncertain what to do. His eyes came to rest on me. And as I met his gaze I felt all the courage drain out of me. I was scared. A year in a place like Dartmoor makes you subservient to authority. And the power of authority was vested in this man. His personality dominated the cabin the moment he entered. His uncertainty was gone in a flash. His eyes were cold, authoritative as he said, “You fool, Vardy. You’ve escaped from prison. That’s nothing to do with me. But you come here and beat up one of my officers—that does concern me. You’re a convict and you come here and beat up the man who sent you
down. A Court will give you a heavy sentence for an act of revenge that——”

“I didn’t come here for revenge,” I interrupted him. My throat felt dry and my voice sounded unnatural.

His eyes narrowed. “Then what did you come here for?” he asked.

“I wanted the truth,” I replied.

“The truth!” He looked at Rankin. “What have you been telling them?” His voice was cold and menacing.

Rankin’s fat bulk seemed to wilt. “I didn’t tell them anything,” he whined. “I told them nothing, I tell you.” He was cringing against the cabin wall, his body tucked up on his bunk.

“What did you tell them?” Halsey repeated.

“Nothing. Lies. Anything that came into my head. They were breaking my arm. I said nothing. I——”

Halsey cut him short with a gesture of disgust and turned to me. “What did he tell you?”

I found myself looking into those black eyes, and I was suddenly no longer afraid. I was thinking of Sills and the cook, of all the men crowded into that boat. And this was the man who had sent them to their deaths.

“What did he tell you?” His voice was less controlled now and in his eyes was the same expression that I had seen when Jennings had mentioned the
Penang
. And I suddenly knew that he was scared.

“He told me how you murdered twenty-three men,” I said.

I saw his hands clench as he took a grip of himself. He suddenly laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. It seemed to cling to the walls of the cabin. It was a wild, uncontrolled laugh. “Murder?”

“Murder and piracy,” I said.

“Try and prove it,” he snarled.

“I will,” I answered him.

“How?” His eyes were watching me like a cat.

“I know where the
Trikkala
is,” I said. “A reconnaissance plane can be there——”

But he wasn’t listening. He had swung round on Rankin. “You lying, drunken sot,” he said. “What did you tell them?”

And Rankin, his body quivering with fear, seemed to brace himself with his hands clenched to the edge of the bunk and said, “I told them the truth.” Halsey stood watching him. Rankin’s sudden unexpected bravado collapsed. “I didn’t mean that. I don’t know what I’m saying. I told them a lot of lies.” He stretched a white hand out to the bottle of whisky and poured himself a drink. The neck of the bottle clattered against the rim of the glass.

Halsey turned to me. “What is truth?” he asked, smiling in his beard. “A man says one thing one minute, another thing the next. Is that truth? You think I’m a murderer and a pirate. Well, go and tell the police. Tell them what you like and see if they’ll believe you. See if they’ll believe the droolings of a drunk who’ll tell a different story to-morrow.” He laughed. “You beat Rankin up out of sheer spite. That’s what they’ll believe. If you go to the police, all they’ll do is to give you a longer stretch.”