The Atlas Murders (4 page)

Tom's mischievous grin made
him a candidate, and Henry's mock serious frown had him with one foot on the
gangway.

 "It'll most likely cost
me a divorce but I'm up for it," said Tom.

 "I'm already feeling
sea sick," was Henry’s response.

"That commitment will do
me. It’s too soon to call, but I've a positive feeling about this one. We’ll
make a good team."

Vincent stood up to end the
meeting, and leaning over he laid a hand on Henry's shoulder.

"With God's help Henry,
with God’s help."

Chapter Six

 The rest of his day was spent
sightseeing, taking in several art galleries and museums.

The late summer evening was
warm as the heat of the day still radiated from the concrete and stone of the
city. Henry strolled along the streets by the River Thames where the elegant
buildings lent him a feeling of comfort and belonging. London held that magic
ambience that nourished the pride of an Englishman; here he knew was the
birthplace of all things British. He felt proud as he stood on Tower Bridge and
watched the ships and barges sailing the mighty river. He thought it his duty
if it ever came to it, to sail away on a ship and be part of the great naval
tradition of this country - his would be a unique duty.

The next morning was bright
and hot as he walked to his appointment, crossing busy streets and dodging
morning traffic. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry, boys on messenger bicycles
with big laden baskets, cars, black London cabs and trucks laden with goods coming
and going to the docks.

By contrast, the shipping
office was quiet as a church, an orderly sanctuary away from the bustle of the
streets. The polite and very correct secretary showed him to a stiff and solid
African hard wood chair. She proffered her small delicate hand. "Sir, may
I call you Mr. Carter?"

"Yes but of course, I'd
prefer if you'd call me Henry." He held her delicate, childlike hand in
his. Her attractive blue-ray eyes seemed to be searching his soul - she made no
effort to disengage the handshake.

"My introduction to the civilized
world is, Veronica Martha Twist. A little bit of a mouthful but the older
generation believed in stamping our presence with plenty of aplomb. You may
call me Vera…" She hesitated slightly, "Henry." She released the
handgrip and brushed ever so delicately against him as she bent to take a
magazine from the seat of the chair. Henry felt a pert breast brush against his
upper arm.

 "I'm pleased to make
your acquaintance, Vera."

"I'm sure we'll be seeing
quite a bit of one another. Captain Leavy-Hobbs asked me to be of as much
assistance to you as you deem necessary. So anything I can help you with, don’t
hesitate to ask. I don’t want to be inquisitive about your work, but I am
Captain Leavy-Hobbs's personal secretary and confidentiality is
paramount."

 "I'm sure it is Vera,
and I may need all the assistance I can get from yourself and the good captain."

 "You may have to wait
about ten minutes. One of our ships arrived into East India Dock last night and
her Master is with Captain Leavy-Hobbs at the moment. I'm making tea now, would
you like me to include you in the pot?"

"Thank you that would be
kind of you."

She went through a door at
the end of the office. No doubt a small kitchen plus private quarters, thought
Henry. A person he mused, with a deceiving amount of qualities and surprising
interests, like a diamond with lots of facets that when caught by light could
probably burst into shafts of brilliance. He could hear the clink of china and
cutlery emanating from her scullery and reverberating around the walls and
ceilings of the great old room like an irregular heartbeat.

Moments later she appeared
carrying a large tray she seemed to be struggling with, and laid it on the
counter top. She poured from the china teapot with its little spout sticking
out through the tea cozy.

"Sugar Henry."

"Two please and
milk." She laid two ginger nut cookies on the saucer and took her tray to
the door leading to the inner sanctum where Captain Leavy-Hobbs was in
conference with the ship's master.

"Could you please knock
for me, Henry?"

He knocked on the paneled
door and turned the knob to let her enter. Vera spoke loudly.

"Tea sirs."

"Come in please."

Putting the tray down on a
side table, she carefully poured the tea and quietly left the room.

"Captain Leavy-Hobbs
will see you shortly, would you like some more tea?"

"Yes, thank you
Vera."

"You'll be glad to know,
Henry that all you asked Captain Leavy-Hobbs for is ready for you, it took me a
bit of time to get it all sorted out. If you have any other queries I'm sure I
can help you with them."

"I'm very much indebted
to you and the good captain."

The door handle slowly turned
and the slight squeak of brass on brass alerted her and she turned her head
like a frightened rabbit. She quickly stood and picked up her tray just as
Captain Leavy-Hobbs came through the door. "Henry, would you please go
down to where Miss Twist has gone through and wait there just a few minutes,
I'll explain later. It’ll only be for a few minutes."

Henry didn't speak but
followed Vera with her tray of clinking china into the little room. She didn't
look surprised as she went about washing the cups.

"Can you dry?"

 She handed him a clean tea
towel.

"Yes, believe or not I'm
very domesticated. Looking after myself for quite a number of years now, I'm
not too clumsy in the kitchen."

As she washed she handed him
the porcelain to dry.

"You must be wondering
why the captain asked you to come in here with me, and it wasn't to help with
the dishes."

 "Yes, I realize that,
although it's my pleasure to be of assistance to you."

 "Very noble I'm sure,
but realistically we, Captain Leavy-Hobbs I mean, doesn’t want you to be seen
by the ship's master. Whatever future your investigation holds, if you were one
day having to sail on the Rangoon, we couldn't be sure who might be master of
her then. He having seen you here in the office might arouse some suspicion,
especially if you were sailing under a pseudonym on his ship."

"I'm very grateful for
your concern. You seem to have me sailing the high seas already."

Her demeanor changed as she
stood looking into Henry's eyes with a fierce seriousness. "If the person
you are looking for is a crew member on that ship, I very much want you to
bring him to justice."

Captain Leavy-Hobbs came out
to the main office and called out. "Henry you can come out now, sorry old
chap for the covert games but I didn't want to expose you to any of our ships
personnel."

"I didn't realize the
implications of what was meant by crew changes and crew members sailing on any
of the six company ships. I've a lot to learn about the nautical world."

“Yes, there’s a bit more to
it than you may envisage.”

He turned back as he ushered
Henry into his inner sanctum.

"Miss Twist, will you hand
me the paperwork we have for Henry?"

"Here is the list of the
present crew that signed articles in London on the thirtieth of May1958, in
other words, a few days before she sailed for Manchester. Next is a list of the
crew who signed off in London, and they are the same who signed articles on the
sixth of July 1957. Now here is a list of her ports of call and the time spent
in each one, from July 1957 to May1958."

"Miss Twist, will you be
seated please."

"As you may realize
Henry, Miss Twist has been versed by me in what we are about. Without her
assistance we couldn't progress very far, as she is the most knowledgeable
person in the company on all aspects of ship's personnel."

Henry could see a slight
blush rising on her cheeks. It was obvious she wasn't used to this much praise or
attention. She took another paper from her files. "Here is a list of crew members
from the previous voyage who signed back on in London – crucially, there are
only four."

 "It’s very interesting
to see men sign back on a ship after spending nearly twelve months without
leave.”

"I have their names
here." She took another page and handed it to the captain.

"Yes, I see one is our
radio operator a Sean Sweeney, Irish no doubt as most of these radio men are. Garrett
Conrad, assistant steward. He goes by the name Gary; nationality British. Hadar
Tukola able seaman, nationality Singaporean, and one of our deck apprentices.
Oswyn P. Welland - nationality British no doubt.”

“Would you know if any of
these are married?."

"Young Welland is not
married, and as I see from their shipboard accounts the other three are also
unattached, to the extent that they don’t send any allotments to anyone."

Vera saw Henry was lost, so
she explained. "By allotments we mean any monies stopped from a crewman's
wages and sent to his wife or dependent every week. None of these four make any
allotment, so we are making the assumption they are single, or maybe divorced.
There could also be a possibility of not paying any allotment to an estranged
wife."

"Have we got their home
addresses?"

 The captain gathered the
papers together and handed them to Henry. “Yes, all that is listed and next of
kin, just for those four, not the full crew. If you want any more information
about any of the present crew we have it at hand, isn't that so Miss Twist?"

 "Yes it's all
available."

 "Not being too
inquisitive Henry, but what will be your next step if you don’t mind sharing
with us?"

 "I'll take this
information to my colleagues at the Yard and discuss it with them."

The captain leant over on the
desk as if some secret was going to be unfolded. "And what do you expect
the next step to be?"

 "If we can somehow
narrow it down to these four crewmen, it would increase our chances
considerably."

 "Just how could you do
that?"

"We're going to have to
investigate all her ports of call and hopefully, and I'm emphasizing hopefully,
because a lot of the countries she sailed would have very shoddy policing, if
we can confirm that a similar crime has been committed in any of these ports,
it would point to a common denominator of one of these four crewmen."

"I wish you the best now
Henry, you'll certainly need it, wouldn't you agree Miss Twist."

 "Yes, I certainly wish
you every success Henry. This man should pay the penalty for his crimes, and I
don’t mind saying, he should hang." She said this with a note of venom
that surprised Henry. Her accompanying steely stare added to the drama. She
stood and asked Henry for the papers he was holding. "I'll put these in an
envelope for you," she said as she left the room.

The captain walked round the
desk and stood close to Henry. "We can almost certainly eliminate young
Oswyn P. Welland. He's the son of Lord Percy Welland our chairman and largest
shareholder in the company."

 "Well Bob, that's good
to know and certainly cuts the odds down again. I'll be in touch in the next
couple of days.”

“Until next time"

Henry left the captain’s
office, almost bumping into Vera who was waiting in the adjoining room with a
large brown envelope in her hand.

"This is your
paperwork." She looked at the door and seeing the captain had closed it,
slipped a small envelope into the larger one. "Open this when you are in
your room, then destroy it, I'll see you later."

Chapter Seven

 Henry clutched the envelope as
he descended the steps to the street. He kept on repeating to himself, open
this when you are in your room! Then destroy it, I'll see you later. He wanted
to go and report to his colleagues at the Yard, but thought it better to sort
this mystery first.

The guest house was quiet and
he went straight to his room. He locked the door behind him and sat on the bed.
With trembling hands he took out the small envelope. He opened it and extracted
a small piece of paper:
Meet me tonight at the Dorchester Hotel at eight o’clock!
Please burn.
He lit the piece of paper in the ashtray.

The Dorchester, he mused. Why
couldn’t she have made it someplace a little less grand? What has she got to
tell me that she didn't want her boss to know?  He looked at his watch, it was
near time for a spot of lunch, and then he'd meet Vincent and Tom and update
them with the latest information on the ship's crew. But he decided that he wouldn’t
tell them about Vera and The Dorchester.

Good grief, he thought, he
hadn't been to a hotel socially since that great day at The Adelphi in
Liverpool when his sister Katherine got married. He had stood in for his father
and gave the bride away. He was four years old when his father went to war, and
he had missed him very much as a small boy. Being an only son he was the apple of
his proud father's eye. He couldn't understand the war and what it was all
about and why the Japanese wanted to keep his father in a camp in a far-away
country. Who were the Japanese and why did they let his father die? These were
the questions he never got answers to until his late teens and adult years when
he learned about the prisoners of war working on the Burma railway – the aptly
named, railway of death.

      Vincent Benedict and
Tom Frazer were waiting for Henry when he arrived at their office. Vincent
greeted him. "Come in and be seated Henry, Tom has been going over all the
old cases that bear any similarities to our present crime and he has
disappointedly found nothing we can go on. Any similar murder or assault has either
been solved and the perpetrator hanged or is serving time, and others that are
too far back in time to be possibly linked to the present crime. So it seems we
are looking for a new crime figure - presumably a young man."

Tom and Henry concurred with
Vincent’s assessment.

"To continue, I think he
has committed similar crimes and the only way he could have done this without
our knowing is they were perpetrated outside our jurisdiction. It adds to your
theory that he is on a ship."

Vincent was running his
fingers along a gold topped fountain pen, his eyes shone like sunrays through
honey; they seemed to hold a font of information and a wealth of experience. He
laid his hands firmly on the desktop and spoke in a measured tone. "Have
you got the ports of call for the previous twelve months before May of this
year?"

Henry handed the sheets of
paper from his envelope to Vincent and another set to Tom. He silently admired
the efficiency of Vera to have given him three copies. Good grief, he thought
as they read their papers, The Dorchester, what could her motive possibly be
for asking him to meet her there? Did she just fancy his company or was there
something more sinister lurking behind that pretty petite façade?

Vincent looked up. "Well
Tom, what do you think?"

 "Very interesting, is
it correct to say Henry, that just four crewmen signed back on for this present
voyage and one of them is the company chairman's son, Oswyn P. Welland?"

"Yes! And Captain Leavy-Hobbs
assured me we can eliminate him from our inquiries. His father being company
chairman, Lord Percy Welland."

 "I seem to recollect
some kind of inquiry involving a wealthy family of name.

Vincent, do you remember
anything about the Welland inquiry?"

 "No, but I'll certainly
know shortly when I look up the files and I'll also look up those other three
crewmen and find if there is anything that has brought them to the attention of
the police.”

He pushed back his chair and
held up the page with the list of ports. "I'll have to get an atlas and
brush up on my geography - not one of my best subjects. What about you Henry,
ever heard of some of these seaports?"

"Believe it or not I'm
not even sure where some of the countries are. So you won’t be the only one
buying an atlas!"

Vincent sat back grinning
like the Cheshire cat.

"You'll know a lot of
geography if you have to do a twelve month voyage on that ship, and from where
I'm sitting it’s looking very likely that's going to be the only way to go. However,
we've got a lot of work to do before we'll know for certain if it's one of
these four."

He leaned across the desk
tapping with a small glass paperweight. "I'll do the checks on .Welland,
Conrad, Tukola, and Sweeney, Tom, will you do the foreign side, writing to all
the foreign ports? Some of the larger cities you might be able to contact by
telephone or cable. By the way Henry, if push comes to shove will you sail on
this ship?"

Henry shifted his frame in
the chair and spoke with conviction. "Yes of course I will, if you think
it's going to be the only way to catch the killer."

"If it transpires he is
sailing on this ship and has murdered girls in some of these foreign countries,
it looks like there will be no other way than a detective sailing undercover to
try and flush him out. At that it’s going to be difficult and dangerous,
because if he ever discovers your identity, you'll be in mortal danger. Another
killing to him will be of little consequence, and we'll be of no help to you
when you're out on the oceans of the world. Now I'm not pressurizing either of
you to take this assignment; it'll be up to the bosses to prepare an undercover
man and plant him on board that ship. We'll leave it at that for the present. It
could take several days before Tom will have any developments from abroad.

Henry, if you have anything
to ask or if anything crops up before we meet again just call. Tom and I will
be here every day. In the meantime, will you try to relax and do a bit of
sightseeing if you're not going back to Runcorn.

"Yes, I'll be staying
around for quite a while. If there's going to be an undercover man sailing on
this ship, I’ll certainly be willing. So you need not look any further."

"Henry that’s settled.
I’m sure you’ll get approval from on high. I’ll put you forward as the best man
for the job."

 Tom turned to Henry with a
benevolent look. "You have my full backing also.”

Henry left the building and
sought out a bookshop where he purchased a large atlas. Back in his bedroom he
started to mark in the ship’s itinerary and made copious notes in the blank
areas between the maps.