The Golden Rendezvous (21 page)

too much or not? he couldn't lose. Not now.

breakfast came. I didn't feel much like eating, but I ate all the same. I had lost far too much blood, and whatever little strength I could recover I was going to need that night. I felt even less like sleep, but for all that I asked marston for a sedative and he gave it to me. I was going to need all the sleep I could get, too; I wouldn't get much that coming night.

the last sensation I recalled as I dozed off was in my mouth, a queer unnatural dryness that usually comes with overmastering fear. But it wasn't fear, I told myself. It wasn't really fear. Just the effect of the sleeping draught. That's what I told myself.

chapter 8

[thursday 4 p.m.-10 p.m.]

it was late afternoon when I awoke, round four o'clock: still a good four hours short of sunset, but already the surgery lights were on and the sky outside dark, almost, as night. Driving, slanting rain was sheeting down torrentially from the black lowering clouds, and even through closed doors and windows I could hear the high, thin sound, part whine, part whistle, of a gale-force wind howling through the struts and standing rigging.

the campari was taking a hammering. She was still going fast, far, far too fast for the weather conditions, and was smashing her way through high, heavy rolling seas bearing down on her starboard bow.

That they weren't mountainous waves, or waves of even an unusual size for a tropical storm, I was quite sure; it was the fact that the campari was battering her way at high speed through quartering seas that seemed

to be almost tearing her apart. She was corkscrewing viciously, a movement that applies the maximum possible strain to a ship's hull.

With metronomic regularity the compari was crashing, starboard bow first, into a rising sea, lifting bows and rolling over to port as she climbed up the wave, hesitating, then pitching violently forward and rolling over to starboard as she slid down the far shoulder of the vanishing wave to thud with a teeth-rattling, jolting violence into the shoulder of the next sea, a shaking, shuddering collision that made the campari vibrate for seconds on end in every plate and rivet throughout her entire length. No doubt but that the clyde yard that had built her had built her well, but they wouldn't have constructed her on the assumption that she was going to fall into the hands of maniacs. Even steel can come apart.

"Dr. Marston," I said, "try to get carreras on that phone."

"Hello, awake?" he shook his head. "I've been on to him myself, an hour ago. He's on the bridge and he says he's going to stay there all night, if need be. And he won't reduce speed any further: he's taken her down to fifteen knots already, he says."

"The man's mad. Thank god for the stabilisers. If it weren't for them, we'd be turning somersaults."

"Can they stand up to this sort of thing indefinitely?"

"I should think it highly unlikely. The captain and bo'sun how are they?"

"The captain's still asleep, still delirious, but breathing easier.

Our friend mr. macdonald you can ask for yourself."

I twisted in my bed. The bo'sun was indeed awake, grinning at me. Marston said, "seeing you're both awake, do you mind if I have a kip down in the dispensary for an hour? I could do with it." he looked as if he could, too, pale and exhausted. "We'll call you if anything goes wrong." I watched him go, then said to macdonald, "you like your sleep, don't you?"

"Just naturally idle, mr. carter." he smiled. "I was wanting to get up, but the doctor wasn't keen."

"Surprised? you know your kneecap is smashed and it'll be weeks before you can walk properly again." he'd never walk properly again.

"Aye, it's inconvenient. Dr. Marston has been talking to me about this fellow carreras and his plans. The man's daft."

"He's all that. But daft or not, what's to stop him?"

"The weather, perhaps. It's pretty nasty outside."

"The weather won't stop him. He's got one of those fanatic one-track minds. But I might have a small try at it myself."

"You?" macdonald had raised his voice, now lowered it to a murmur. "You! with a smashed thighbone. How in the

"It's not broken." I told him of the deception. "I think I can get around on it if I don't have too much climbing to do."

"I see. And the plan, sir?"

I told him. He thought me as daft as carreras. He did his best to dissuade me, finally accepted the inevitable, and had his own suggestions to make. We were still discussing it in low voices when the sick-bay door opened and a guard showed susan beresford in, closed the door, and left.

"Where have you been all day?" I said accusingly. "I saw the guns." she was pale and tired and seemed to have forgotten that she had been angry with me for cooperating with carreras. "He's got a big one mounted on the poop and a smaller one on the focsle. Covered with tarpaulins now. The rest of the day I spent with mummy and daddy and the others."

"And how are our passengers?" I enquired. "Hopping mad at being shanghaied, or do they regard it as yet another of the attractions of the campari-a splendid adventure thrown in at no extra charge that they can talk about to the end of their days? i'm sure most of them must be pretty relieved that carreras is not holding them all to ransom."

"Most of them are not caring one way or another," she said.

"They're so seasick they couldn't care if they lived or died. I feel a bit the same way myself, I can tell you."

"You'll get used to it," I said callously. "You'll all get used to it. I want you to do something for me."

"Yes, john." the dutiful murmur in the voice which was really tiredness, the use of the first name had me glancing sharply across at the bo'sun, but he was busy examining a part of the deckhead that was completely devoid of anything to examine. "Get permission to go to your cabin. Say you're going for blankets, that you felt too cold here last night. Your father's dinner suit-slip it between the blankets. Not the tropical one, the dark one. For heaven's sake, see you're not observed.

Have you any dark-coloured dresses?"

"Dark-coloured dresses?" she frowned. "Why "for pete's sake!" I said in low-voiced exasperation. I could hear the murmur of voices outside. "Answer me!"

"A black cocktail dress.. "Bring it also."

she looked at me steadily. "Would you mind telling me the door opened and tony carreras came in, balancing easily on the swaying, dipping deck. He carried a rain-spattered chart under his arm.

"Evening, all." he spoke cheerfully enough, but for all that he looked rather pale. "Carter, a small job from my father. Course positions of the fort ticonderoga at eight a.m., noon, and four p.m.

To-day. Plot them and see if the conderoga is on its predicted course."

"Fort ticonderoga being the name of the ship we have to intercept?"

"What else?"

"But-but the positions," I said stupidly. "The course positions of-how the devil do you know? don't tell me the ticonderoga is actually sending you her positions? are the are the radio operators on that ship?"

"My father thinks of everything," tony carreras said calmly.

"Literally everything. I told you he was a brilliant man. You know we're going to ask the ticonderoga to stand and deliver. Do you think we want it sending out soss when we fire a warning shot across its bows?

the ticonderoga's own radio officers had a slight accident before the ship left england and had to be replaced by ah -more suitable men."

"A slight accident?" susan said slowly. What with seasickness and emotion, her face was the colour of paper, but she wasn't scared of carreras any, that I could see. "What kind of accident?"

"A kind that can so easily happen to any of us, miss beresford."

tony carreras was still smiling, but somehow he no longer looked charming and boyish. I couldn't really see any expression on the face at all; all I could see were the curiously flattened eyes. More than ever I was sure that there was something wrong with young carreras'

eyes, and more than ever I was sure that the wrongness lay not in the eyes alone but was symptomatic and indicative of a wrongness that lay much deeper than the eyes. "Nothing serious, I assure you." meaning that they hadn't been killed more than once. "One of the replacements is not only a radioman but an expert navigator. We saw no reason why we should not take advantage of this fact to keep us informed as to the exact position of the ticonderoga. Every hour, on the hour."

"Your father leaves nothing to chance," I admitted. "Except that he seems to be depending on me as the expert navigator on this ship."

"He didn't know-we weren't to know-that all the other deck officers on the campari were going to be-ah-so foolish. We-both my father and i-dislike killing of any kind." again the unmistakable ring of sincerity, but I was beginning to wonder if the bell hadn't a crack in it. "My father is also a competent navigator, but unfortunately he has his hands very full at the moment. He happens to be the only professional seaman we have."

"Your other men aren't?"

"Alas, no. But they are perfectly adequate to the task of seeing that professional seamen-your men-do their duties as they should." this was cheering news. If carreras persisted in pushing the campari through the storm at this rate, practically everyone who wasn't a professional seaman was going to be feeling very ill indeed. That might help to ease my night's labours.

I said, "what's going to happen to us after you've hijacked this damned bullion?"

"Dump you all on the ticonderoga," he said lazily. "What else?"

"Yes?" I sneered. "So that we can straight away notify every ship that the campari had

"Notify whoever you like," he said placidly. "Think we're crazy?

we're abandoning the campari the same morning: another vessel is already

standing by. Miguel carreras does think of everything."

I said nothing and turned my attention to the charts while susan made her request to be allowed to bring blankets. He smilingly said he would accompany her and they left together. When they returned in five minutes time I had entered the course positions on the chart and found that the fort ticonderoga was really on course. I handed the chart to carreras with that information; he thanked me and left.

dinner came at eight o'clock. It wasn't much of a meal as campari dinners went; antoine was never at his best when the elements were against him, but it was fair enough for all that. Susan ate nothing. I suspected that she had been sick more than once but had made no mention

of it; millionaire's daughter or not, she was no crybaby and had no self-pity, which was only what I would have expected from the daughter of the beresfords. I wasn't hungry myself. There was a knot in my stomach that had nothing to do with the motion of the campari, but again on the principle that I was going to need all the strength I could find, I made a good meal. Macdonald ate as if he hadn't seen food for a week.

Bullen still slept under sedation, restless against the securing straps that held him to his bed, breathing still distressed, mumbling away continuously to himself.

at nine o'clock marston said, "time now for coffee, john?"

"Time for coffee," I agreed. Marston's hands, I noticed, weren't quite steady. After too many years of consuming the better part of a bottle of rum every night, his nerves weren't in any too fit a condition for this sort of thing. Susan brought in five cups of coffee, one at a time the wild pitching of the campari, the jarring, jolting shocks as we crashed down into the troughs, made the carrying of more than one at a time impossible. One for herself, one for macdonald, one for marston, one for me-and one for the sentry, the same youngster as had been on guard the previous night. For the four of us, sugar; for the sentry, a spoonful of white powder from marston's dispensary. Susan took his cup outside.

"How's our friend?" I asked when she returned. "Almost as green as I am." she tried to smile, but it didn't come off. "Seemed glad to get it."

"Where is he?"

"In the passage. Sitting on the floor, jammed in a corner, gun across his knees."

"How long before that stuff acts, doctor?"

"If he drinks it all straight away, maybe twenty minutes.

and don't ask me how long the effects will last. People vary so much that i've no idea. Maybe half an hour, maybe three hours. You can never be certain with those things."

"You've done all you can. Except the last thing. Take off those outside bandages and those damned splints, will you?"

he looked nervously at the door. "If someone comes "we've been through all that," I said impatiently. "Even by taking a chance and losing, we'll be no worse off than we were before. Take them off."

marston fetched a chair to give himself steadier support, sat down, eased the point of his scissors under the bandages holding the splints in place and sliced through them with half a dozen swift, clean cuts.

The bandages fell away; the splints came loose, and then the door opened. Half a dozen long strides and tony carreras was by my bedside, staring down thoughtfully. He looked even paler than the last time i'd seen him.

"The good healer on the night shift, eh? having a little patient trouble, doctor?"

"Trouble?" I said hoarsely. I'd my eyes screwed half shut, lips compressed, fists lying on the coverlet tightly clenched. Carter in agony. I hoped I wasn't overdoing it. "Is your father mad, carreras?"

I closed my eyes completely and stifled-nearly-a moan as the campari lurched forward and down into an abnormally deep trough with a shuddering, jarring impact that all but threw carreras off his feet.

Even through closed doors, even above the eldritch howl of the wind and the lash of the gale-driven rain, the sound of the impact was like gunfire and not distant gunfire at that. "Does he want to kill us all?

why in god's name can't he slow down?"

"Mr. carter is in very great pain," doc marston said quietly.

Whatever his faults as a doctor, he was fast at catching on, and when you looked into those steady, wise blue eyes beneath the magnificent mane of white hair, it was impossible not to believe him. "Agony would be a better word. He has, as you know, a compound fracture of the femur." with delicate fingers he touched the bloodstained bandages that