When he came up the stern of the
India
Star
was ten yards away, and for all the hope he had of catching it, it might as well have been ten miles. He had lost the ship; he had lost the rope; he had lost his last hold on life.
C
aptain
B
arling
stood on the bridge of the
Hopeful
Enterprise
and watched the grain elevator sucking wheat out of number two hold. He had stood on the bridge in Montreal watching the wheat going in; it seemed a long time ago, the hell of a long time. So much had happened since.
He supposed he should have been feeling happy, or at least satisfied. He had achieved his purpose; he had brought the
India
Star
in, and that was what he had set out to do. He had done it for Ann’s sake, and for her sake he was glad. But he felt tired and jaded, and there were things that he did not like, things that marred the triumph.
Oh, no doubt it had been fine to steam up the Bristol Channel in his old, listing ship, with people cheering and other ships sounding their whistles, welcoming them like heroes. But he had not felt like a hero, knowing that Able Seaman Trubshaw was lying dead in his bunk, and wondering whether he were responsible for the man’s death. For Trubshaw might still have been alive if it had not been for the tow; might even have been alive if he, Barling, had listened to his entreaties, had abandoned the
India
Star
and headed straight for home after the tow-rope parted.
Yet Trubshaw had not died from the wound in his neck.
The doctor who examined him said that the cut had been healing perfectly. So why had he died?
There would be a post-mortem and an inquest of course; but none of that would bring Trubshaw back to life. So why had he died? Why? There was something that Orwell, the carpenter, had said, something that had gone round the ship as such things did: “If you ask me, old Trub just died of fear.” What had he meant by that? Fear of what? Barling gave it up; it made no sense. All he knew was that, but for the
India
Star,
Trubshaw would still have been alive, and that, reason how he might, the seaman’s death lay on his conscience like a dead weight.
And Wilson’s death too. What had happened to Wilson? There was no clue to his disappearance, unless that rope trailing from the taffrail of the
India
Star
could be called a clue. Had the boy fallen overboard by accident or had he committed suicide? But what possible reason could there have been for him to commit suicide? Unless the loneliness had preyed on his mind and driven him out of his wits.
Barling blamed himself for having allowed Wilson to stay on board the
India
Star.
He should have insisted that Wilson be taken off; for the boy’s own safety he should have ordered Loder to bring him back after the work had been done on the hawser. But he knew that in his heart he had wanted him to remain on board the other ship as a safeguard.
And quite apart from the matter of the chafed hawser, it seemed probable that without Wilson’s help he would have lost the prize; for there was a story going round that one night a party of men from the tug had gone on board the
India
Star
with the purpose of cutting the tow, and that Wilson had driven them off at the point of a revolver; in
fact, had even fired at them, fortunately without apparently hitting anyone. Yet no one had been able to find a revolver on board the ship, though there was some ammunition and a few empty cases lying around. So it looked as if Wilson had taken the revolver with him when he went overboard, though why he should have done that was beyond guessing.
Barling sighed. The financial problem was solved, though it still remained for a court to settle the question of the salvage money. And the irony of it was that Bruce Calthorp would no doubt come in for a share of it as part owner of the
Hopeful
Enterprise.
And where was the justice in that? But at least he would get none of the money from the
Sunday
Record
; no, not a penny of that. And it was to be a good fat fee, the story having been rendered even more sensational by the two strange deaths and the dark hints of violence. There was mystery too, an unanswered question; and the public liked that kind of thing.
Funnily enough, Calthorp seemed to have had a change of mind and was talking of carrying on with Barling and Calthorp. He had been interviewed on television while the
Hopeful
Enterprise
was struggling with her tow in mid-Atlantic, and perhaps he had enjoyed the limelight. It would be right up his street, Barling thought, and of course he would not want to drop out now. Barling did not mind; if Calthorp wished to stay in the firm, that was all to the good; it would avoid a lot of complications. Nevertheless, he felt a certain contempt for a partner who was ready to desert in difficult times but only too willing to stay on when things improved.
He heard a cough, and turning his head saw that the chief engineer had come up on to the bridge. Madden was wearing his shore-going clothes—a baggy, much-worn Harris
tweed suit and brogue shoes. He coughed again, somewhat nervously, but said nothing, though it was obvious that he wished to speak.
“Well?” Barling said. “What is it then?”
Madden said with a curious hesitancy: “I was meaning to ask about those engines.”
“Yes?”
“You’ll be having them seen to?”
“Don’t worry about that. We’ll get them right before we sail again.”
Madden seemed to breathe a shade more easily. “Then you will be—”
“Yes,” Barling said. “And I’ll want you, Chief.”
Madden’s head came up. Barling noticed with some embarrassment that there were tears in his eyes. His voice shook a little.
“I did my best.”
“No one could have done better.”
“Thank you,” Madden said. He hesitated, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. Then: “I’ll be getting ashore. I’ve a phone call to make. To my wife.”
“Give her my regards,” Barling said.
He ran into Loder some time later. “Well,” Loder said, giving his cynical grin, “it all worked out.”
“Yes, it all worked out.”
Loder said with a touch of hesitancy: “I don’t suppose we’ll be seeing much more of each other.”
“Oh?” Barling said. “What makes you say that?”
“You’ll be getting someone else as mate, I imagine.”
“Why should I?”
“I think it’s been in your mind for some time.”
He was right about that of course; it had been in Barling’s
mind. But now he was not so sure that he wanted to replace Loder. He still did not like the mate, and probably never would, but he knew that in an emergency Loder was a man he could depend on; and what guarantee was there that a replacement would be as good? Better the devil you knew—
“It’s not in my mind now.”
Loder looked surprised. “Are you asking me to stay on?”
“I want a chief officer I can trust,” Barling said. “I think you fill the bill. That’s if you want to sail with me again.”
Loder thought it over for a moment, then grinned suddenly without any trace of cynicism. “Since you put it that way,” he said, “I’ll admit I wasn’t particularly keen on looking for another berth.”
It was Sandy Moir who found the paper. The steward had used it to wrap some dry stores, and Moir, opening it out, noticed the news item.
“Weel now,” he said, “there’s a coincidence.”
He showed it to Lawson. “Look at that, will ye?”
Lawson looked at it. “So what?”
“D’ye see the date on that paper? It’s the day we left Montreal. It’s a Montreal paper.”
“I can see that. I can read.”
“And have ye read what it says there?”
“I’ve read it,” Lawson said. “It says there was a fire in an apartment house. A woman named Roberta Clayton died in it. The fire seems to have been started by a drunk with a cigarette lighter.”
“And do ye see where the apartment house was?”
Lawson examined the item again. “Cabot Place.”
Moir nodded and looked very knowing. “And where’s Cabot Place?”
“In Montreal of course. Where else would it be?”
“Aye, but what part of Montreal?”
“Well, flamin’ catfish! How should I know?”
“I know.”
“So tell me, chum. Tell me before I die of curiosity.”
“That’s where we had the set-to with those Swedes,” Moir said. “I noticed the name on a wall. That’s why I say it’s a coincidence. That fire must’ve happened not so long after. The same night.”
“And a woman died in it.” Lawson sounded thoughtful. “Wonder what she was like.”
“We’ll never know.”
“No, but it makes you think.”
“Aye, it does that.”
“Still, it’s nothing to do with us.”
Moir screwed up the paper and threw it into the garbage can. “No,” he said, “it’s nothing to do with us.”
When a valuable cargo ship is abandoned in mid-Atlantic Captain Barling of the
s.s.
Hopeful
Enterprise
has very special reasons for wishing to tow it into port. The question is is he justified in risking men’s lives for the sake of his own desires?
Adam Loder, mate of the
Hopeful
Enterprise,
thinks it is nothing but a wild goose chase anyway; and Jonah Madden, the chief engineer, is worried about his ailing engines. But Charlie Wilson has a deeper worry. He has killed a woman in Montreal and fears that the police will pick him up on arrival in England. That is why he volunteers for the riskiest job of all.
It is not only the sea that threatens Barling’s chances of success—though that is bad enough in the autumn gales—there is also a very tenacious rival to contend with in the shape of a salvage tug with a tough and not over-scrupulous crew.
Freedman
Soldier, Sail North
The Wheel of Fortune
Last in Convoy
The Mystery of the
Gregory
Kotovsky
Contact Mr Delgado
Across the Narrow Seas
Wild Justice
The Liberators
The Last Stronghold
Find the Diamonds
The Plague Makers
Whispering Death
Three Hundred Grand
Crusader’s Cross
A Real Killing
Special Delivery
Ten Million Dollar Cinch
The Deadly Shore
The Rodriguez Affair
The Murmansk Assignment
The Sinister Stars
Watching Brief
Weed
Away With Murder
A Fortune in the Sky
Search Warrant
The Marakano Formula
Cordley’s Castle
The Haunted Sea
The Petronov Plan
Feast of the Scorpion
The Honeymoon Caper
A Walking Shadow
The No-Risk Operation
Final Run
Blind Date
Something of Value
Red Exit
The Courier Job
The Rashevski Icon
The Levantine Trade
The Spayde Conspiracy
Busman’s Holiday
The Antwerp Appointment
Stride
The Seven Sleepers
Lethal Orders
The Kavulu Lion
A Fatal Errand
The Stalking-Horse
Flight to the Sea
A Car for Mr Bradley
Precious Cargo
The Saigon Merchant
Life-Preserver
Dead of Winter
Come Home, Toby Brown
Homecoming
The Syrian Client
Poisoned Chalice
Where the Money Is
A Dream of Madness
Paradise in the Sun
Dangerous Enchantment
The Junk Run
Legatee
Killer
Dishonour Among Thieves
Operation Zenith
Dead Men Rise Up Never
The Spoilers
With Menaces
Devil Under the Skin
The Animal Gang
Steel
The Emperor Stone
Fat Man From Colombia
Bavarian Sunset
The Telephone Murders
Lady from Argentina
The Poison Traders
Squeaky Clean
Avenger of Blood
A Wind on the Heath
One-Way Ticket
The Time of Your Life
Death of a Go-Between
Some Job
The Wild One
Skeleton Island
A Passage of Arms
On Desperate Seas
Old Pals Act
Crane
The Silent Voyage
The Angry Island
Obituary for Howard Gray
The Golden Reef
Bullion
Sea Fury
The Spanish Hawk
© James Pattinson 1972
First published in Great Britain 1972
This ebook edition 2012
ISBN 978 0 7090 9737 2 (epub)
ISBN 978 0 7090 9738 9 (mobi)
ISBN 978 0 7090 9739 6 (pdf)
ISBN 978 0 7090 8057 2 (print)
Robert Hale Limited
Clerkenwell House
Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT
www.halebooks.com
The right of James Pattinson to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988