The Golden Rendezvous (11 page)

it was quarter to eight. I dropped down the series of accommodation ladders that led to the focsle and made my way forward to

the carpenter's store. The focsle was unusually crowded for that time of the morning. There must have been close on forty members of the ship's company gathered there, deck staff, engine-room staff, cooks and stewards, all waiting to pay their last respects to brownell. Nor were these all the spectators. I looked up and saw that the promenade deck, which curved right round the forward superstructure of the campari, was

dotted with passengers, eleven or twelve in all: not many, but they represented close on the total male passenger complement aboard-i could see nb women therewith the exception of old cerdan and possibly one or two others. Bad news travelled fast, and even for millionaires the chance of seeing a burial at sea didn't come along too often. Right in the middle of them was the duke of hartwell, looking nautical as anything in his carefully adjusted royal yachting club cap, silk scarf, and brass-buttoned navy doeskin jacket.

I skirted number one hold and thought grimly that there might indeed be something in the old superstitions: the dead cried out for company, the old salts said, and the dead men loaded only yesterday afternoon and now lying in the bottom of number four hold hadn't been slow to get that company. Two others gone in the space of a few hours, near as a toucher three; only i'd fallen sideways instead of toppling over the rail. I felt those ice-cold fingers on the back of my neck again and shivered, then passed into the comparative gloom of the carpenter's store, right up in the forepeak.

everything was ready. The bier-a hastily nailed-together platform of boards, seven feet by two-lay on the deck, and the red ensign, tied to two corners of the handles at the top of the bier but free at the other end, covered the canvas wathed mound beneath. Only the bo'sun and

the carpenter were there. To look at macdonald you would never have guessed that he hadn't slept the previous night. He had volunteered to remain on guard outside the wireless office until dawn; it had also been his idea that, though the chances of any trouble in daylight were remote, two men should be tailed for holystoning the deck outside the wireless office after breakfast, for the entire day if necessary.

Meantime the radio office was closed-and heavily padlocked-to allow peters and jenkins to attend the funeral of their colleague. There was no difficulty about this: as was common, there was a standard arrangement whereby a bell rang either on the bridge or in the chief wireless operator's cabin whenever a call came through on the distress frequency or on the campari's call sign.

the slight vibration of the campari's engines died away as the engine slowed and the revs dropped until we had just enough speed to give us steerageway in that heavy swell. The captain came down the companionway, carrying a heavy brass-bound bible under his arm. The heavy steel door in the port hand focsle side was swung open and back till it secured with a clang in its retaining latch. A long wooden box was slid into position, one end level with the opening in the side of the ship. Then macdonald and the carpenter, bareheaded, appeared, carrying bier and burden, and laid them on the box.

the service was very brief, very simple. Captain bullen said a few words about brownell, about as true as words usually are in those circumstances, led the tattered singing of "abide with me," read the burial service, and nodded to the bo'sun. The royal navy did this sort of thing better, but we didn't carry any bugles aboard the campari.

Macdonald lifted the inboard end of the bier; the canvas-swathed mound slid out slowly from beneath the red ensign and was gone with only the faintest of splashings to mark its departure. I glanced up at the promenade deck and saw the duke of hartwell there, standing stiffly at attention, right arm bent up to his peaked cap in rigid salute. Even allowing for the natural disadvantages lent him by his face, I had seldom seen a more ludicrous sight. No doubt to the unbiassed observer he was putting up a more fitting show than myself, but I find it hard to be at my reverent best when I know that all i'm committing to the deep is a length of canvas, large quantities of engine-room waste, and a hundred and fifty pounds of rusty chain to give the necessary negative buoyancy.

the door in the ship's side clanged shut; captain bullen handed over the bible to a cadet; the engine revs mounted, and the campari was back in business again. And the first item on the agenda was breakfast.

in my three years aboard the campari I had rarely seen more than half a dozen passengers in the dining saloon for breakfast. Most of them preferred to have it served in their suites or on the private verandahs outside their suites. Barring a few aperitifs followed by antoine's or henrique's superb cooking, there was nothing to beat a good funeral to bring out the sociable best in our passengers. There could only have been seven or eight missing altogether.

I had a full complement at my table, except, of course, for the invalid mr. cerdan. I should have been on watch, but the captain had decided that, as there was a very able quartermaster on the wheel and no

land within seventy miles, young dexter, who usually stood the watch with me, could stand it alone for the length of breakfast.

no sooner had I pulled in my chair than miss harrbride fixed her beady eyes on me.

"What on earth's happened to you, young man?" she demanded.

"To tell you the truth, miss harrbride, I don't really know myself."

"You what?"

"It's true." I put on my best shamed face. "I was standing up on the boat deck last night and the next thing I knew I was lying in the scuppers with my head cut must have struck it against the davit when I fell." I had my story all prepared. "Dr. marston thinks it was a combination of sunstroke-i was loading cargo most of the day yesterday and I can assure you that the sun was very hot-and the fact that, owing to our troubles in kingston and the delay caused by it, I haven't had very much sleep in the past three days."

"I must say things do keep happening aboard the campari," miguel carteras said. His face was grave. "One man dead from a heart attack or whatever it was, another missing -they haven't found our chief steward yet, have they?"

"I'm afraid not, sir."

"And now you get yourself banged up. Let's sincerely hope that's the end of it."

"Troubles always happen in threes, sir. I'm sure this is the end of it. We've never before

"Young man, let me have a look at you," a peremptory voice demanded from the captain's table. Mrs. beresford, my favourite passenger. I twisted round in my seat to find that mrs. beresford, who normally sat with her back to me, had herself turned completely round in hers.

Beyond her the duke of hartwell, unlike the previous night, was having no trouble at all in devoting his entire attention to susan beresford: the usual counterattraction on his right, in the best traditions of the theatrical world, rarely rose before noon. mrs. Beresford studied me in silence for the better part of ten seconds.

"You don't look well at all, mr. carter," she pronounced finally.

"Twisted your neck, didn't you? you didn't have to turn round in your chair to talk to me."

"A little," I admitted. "It's a bit stiff."

"And hurt your back into the bargain," she added triumphantly. "I can tell from the peculiar way you sit."

"It hardly hurts at all," I said bravely. It didn't, in fact, hurt me in the slightest, but I hadn't yet got the hang of carrying a gun in my waistband and the butt kept sticking painfully into my lower ribs.

"Sunstroke, eh?" her face held genuine concern. "And lack of sleep. You should be in bed. Captain bullen, i'm afraid you're overworking this young man."

"That's what I keep telling the captain, ma'am," I said, "but he doesn't pay any attention to me."

captain bullen smiled briefly and rose to his feet. His eyes, as they roved slowly over the room, held the expression of a man who wanted

both attention and quiet: such was the personality of the man that he got it in three seconds flat.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began. The duke of hartwell regarded the tablecloth with that smell-of-bad-fish expression he reserved for tenants wanting a cut in rent and merchant navy captains who forgot to preface public addresses with the words "your grace."

"I am most distressed," the captain went on, "as I am sure you are all distressed, by the events of the past twelve hours. That we should lose our chief wireless officer through death by natural causes is, god knows, bad enough, but that our chief steward should vanish the same evening-well, in thirty six years at sea I have never known anything like it. "What happened to chief steward benson we cannot say with any certainty, but I can hazard a guess and at the same time issue a warning. There are literally hundreds of cases of men vanishing overboard at night, and I have little doubt but that benson's death is due to the same reason which probably accounts for 99 per cent of all the other cases. Even on the most experienced sailors the effect of leaning over the rail at night and watching the black water passing below has a weirdly hypnotic effect. I think it's something akin to the vertigo that affects a great number of people, people who are convinced that if they go near, say, the parapet of a high building, some strange force will make them topple over, no matter what their conscious minds may say. Only, with leaning over the rails of a ship, there is no fear.

Just a gradual mesmerism. A man just leans further and further over until his centre of gravity is suddenly displaced. And then he is gone."

as an alibi or explanation for benson's disappearance it was as good as any; as a general statement it was also unfortunately true.

"And so, ladies and gentlemen, I would counsel you all, most strongly, never to approach the ship's rails at night unless you are accompanied by someone else. I would be most grateful if you would all bear that strongly in mind."

I looked round the passengers as far as my stiff neck would allow.

They would bear it in mind all right. From now on wild horses wouldn't drag them near the campari's rails at night.

"But," bullen went on emphatically, "it will help neither of those unfortunate men and only do ourselves a great disservice if we allow ourselves to brood over those things. I cannot ask you to dismiss those deaths from your minds at once, but I can ask you not to dwell on them. On a ship, as elsewhere, life must go on especially, I might say, on a ship. You are aboard the campari to enjoy the cruise; we are aboard to help you enjoy it. I would be most grateful if you would give us your every assistance to get shipboard life back to normal as soon as possible."

there was a subdued murmur of agreement, then julius beresford, rising from his seat beside the captain, was on his feet.

"Do you mind if I say a few words, sir?" he could have bought the blue mail line without even denting his bank balance, but still he asked permission to speak and called old bullen sir.

"Certainly, mr. beresford."

"It's just this." julius beresford had addressed too many board meetings to be anything other than completely at ease when speaking to people, no matter how many million dollars they represented. "I agree, and agree completely, with everything our captain has said. Captain bullen has said that he and his crew have a job to do and that that job is to look after the every comfort and convenience of his passengers.

Under the rather sad circumstances in which we have to meet this morning, I think that we, the passengers, have also a job to do-to make things as easy as possible for the captain, officers, and crew and to help them to bring things back to normal as soon as possible.

"I'd like to start the ball rolling by asking you all to be my guests for a brief period this evening. To-day, ladies and gentlemen, my wife celebrates her birthday." he smiled down at mrs. Beresford.

"She forgets exactly which one. I cannot invite you to a birthday dinner, for what could I offer you as a special meal that antoine and henriques do not give us every night of the week? but mrs. Beresford and I should be grateful if you would be our guests at a cocktail party this evening. Seven forty-five. In the drawing room. Thank you."

I looked round the table. Miguel carreras was nodding slightly, as if in grave acceptance and appreciation of beresford's underlying motives. Miss harrbride was beaming with pleasure: she doted on the beresfords, not for their money, but for the fact that they were one of the very oldest american families, with goodness only knew how many generations behind them. Mr. greenstreet, her husband, studied the tablecloth in his usual intent fashion. And tony carreras, more impossibly handsome than ever, leaned back in his chair and regarded julius beresford with a slightly amused, speculative interest. Or maybe it was susan beresford he was looking at. I was more certain than ever that there was something wrong with tony carreras' eyes; it was almost impossible to tell in what direction they were looking. He caught my glance and smiled.

"You'll be there, mr. carter?" he had that relaxed, easygoing manner that comes from having a bank account bursting at the seams but none of the usual hint of condescension: tony carreras I could get to like.

"Briefly only, i'm afraid. I have to go on watch at eight o'clock this evening." I smiled. "If you're still at it at midnight, i'll join you." like hell i'd join them: at midnight i'd be showing the nassau police over the ship. "And i'm afraid you'll have to excuse me now. I have to relieve the officer of the watch."

I made my excuses and left. On the deck I almost bumped into a sandy-haired young seaman, whitehead, who usually shared my watches on the bridge in his capacity as engine room telegraphist, lookout, bridge messenger, and coffee maker.

"What are you doing here?" I asked sharply. With young dexter on watch I wanted as many sharp eyes and quick minds as possible round him:

whitehead had both. "You know you're not to leave the bridge in my absence?"

"Sorry, sir. But ferguson sent me." ferguson was the quartermaster on the forenoon watch. "We've missed the last two course