The golden rendezvous by MacLean, Alistair

hournos are on “b” deck. But none of the others went in or out of any

of the suites, only stewards with trays. I can swear to that, sir.

From my cubicle-mr. benson’s, that is -i can see every door in the

companionway.”

“That’s so,” bullen agreed. He asked for the name of the senior

steward on “b” deck, spoke briefly on the phone, then hung up. “All

right, white, you can go. But keep your eyes -and ears-open and report

to me immediately you come across anything that strikes you as unusual.

And don’t talk about this to anyone.” white rose quickly and left. He

seemed glad to go.

“There it is, then,” bullen said heavily. “Everyone-every one of

the passengers, that is-in the clear. I’m beginning to think you may

have the right of it after all, mr. wilson.” he looked speculatively at

me. “How about it now, mr. carter?”

I looked at him, then at wilson, and said: “mr. wilson seems to be

the only one of us that makes any sense. What he says is logical,

completely plausible, and fits the facts. It’s too logical, too

plausible. I don’t believe it.”

“Why not?” bullen demanded. “Because you can’t believe that any

crew member of the campari could be bought? or because it knocks your

own pet theories on the bead?”

“I can’t give you any why’s or why not’s, sir. It’s just a hunch,

the way I feel.”

captain bullen grunted, not a very kindly grunt either, but

unexpected support came from the chief engineer.

“I agree with mr. carter. We’re up against very, very clever

people-if it is people.” he paused, then said suddenly: “is the passage

money for the carreras family, father and son, paid in yet?”

“What the devil has that to do with anything?” bullen demanded.

“Has it been paid?” mcLlroy repeated. He was looking at the

purser.

“It’s been paid,” cummings said quietly. He was still a long way

from getting over the shock caused by the murder of his friend benson.

“In what currency?”

“Traveller’s cheques. Drawn on a new york bank.”

“Dollars, eh? now, captain bullen, I submit that’s very

interesting indeed. Paid in dollars. Yet in may of last year the

generalissimo made it a penal offence to be in possession of any foreign

currency whatsoever. I wonder where our friends got the money from.

And why are they permitted to be in possession of it? instead of

lingering in some jungle jail?”

“What are you suggesting, chief?”

“Nothing,” mcLlroy confessed. “That’s the devil of it. I just

don’t see how it can tie up with anything. I just submit that it is

very curious indeed and that anything curious, in the present

circumstances, is worth investigating.” he sat silently for a moment,

then said idly, “i suppose you know that our generalissimo friend

recently received a gift from the other side of the iron curtain? a

destroyer and a couple of frigates? trebled his naval strength in one

fell swoop. I suppose you know the generalissimo is desperate for money

-his regime is coming apart at the seams for lack of it, and that’s what

lay behind last week’s bloody riots. You know that we have a dozen

people aboard who would be worth god knows how many millions in ransom

money? and that if a frigate suddenly did heave over the horizon and

order us to stowell, how could we send out an sos with all our

transmitters smashed?”

“I have never heard such a ridiculous suggestion in my life,”

bullen said heavily. But ridiculous or not, you’re thinking about it,

captain bullen, I said to myself; by heaven, you’re thinking about it.

“To knock your suggestion on the head straightaway, how could any vessel

ever find us? where to look for us? we changed course last night;

we’re over a hundred miles away from where they might expect us to be

even if they had any idea where we were going in the first place.”

“I could support the chief’s arguments in that, sir,” I put in.

There seemed no point in mentioning that I thought mcLlroy’s idea as

farfetched as did the captain. “Any person with a radio receiver might

equally well have a transmitter and miguel carreras himself mentioned to

me that he used to command his own ships. Navigation, by sun or stars,

would be easy for him. He probably knows our position to within ten

miles.”

“And those messages that came through on the radio” mcLlroy went

on. “Message or messages. A message so damned important that two men

died, and the possibility that another such message might come through

caused a third man to die. What message, captain, what so tremendously

important a message? warnings: from where, from whom, I don’t know.

Warnings, captain bullen. Knowledge which in our hands would have

destroyed some carefully laid plans, and the scope of those plans you

can judge from the fact that three men died so that that message should

not come through.”

old bullen was shaken. He tried not to show it, but he was shaken.

Badly. And I knew it next moment when he turned to tommy wilson.

“On the bridge, mr. wilson. Double lookouts. Stay doubled till we

get to nassau.” he looked at mcLlroy. “If we get to nassau. Signaller

to stand by the aldis all day. ‘i want assistance’ flags ready for the

yardarm. Radar office: if they take their eyes off the screen for a

second i’ll have ’em on the beach. No matter how small a blip they see,

no matter what distance, report immediately to the bridge.”

“We turn towards them for assistance, sir?”

“You blithering idiot,” bullen snarled. “We run for our lives in

the opposite direction. Do you want to steam into the waiting guns of a

destroyer?” no question but that bullen was far off balance: the

self-contradictory element in his instructions escaped him completely.

“You believe the chief, then, sir?” I asked. “I don’t know what

to believe,” bullen growled. “I’m just taking no chances.”

when wilson left I said, “maybe the chief is right. Maybe wilson

is right too. Both could go together an armed attack on the campari

with certain suborned members of the crew backing up the attackers.”

“But you still don’t believe it,” mcLlroy said quietly. “I’m like

the captain. I don’t know what to believe. But one thing I do know for

certain the radio receiver that intercepted the message we never got

that’s the key to it all.”

“And that’s the key we’re going to find.” bullen heaved himself to

his feet. “Chief, i’d be glad if you came with me. We’re going to

search for this radio personally. First we start in my quarters, then

in yours, then we go through the quarters of every member of the crew of

the campari. Then we start looking anywhere where it might be cached

outside their quarters. You come with us, macdonald.”

the old man was in earnest all right. If that radio was in the

crew’s quarters, he’d find it. The fact that he’d offered to start the

search in his own suite was warranty enough for that.

he went on: “mr. carter, I believe it’s your watch.”

“Yes, sir. But jamieson could look out for me for an hour.

Permission to search the passengers’ quarters?”

“Wilson was right about that bee in your bonnet, mister.” which

only went to show how upset bullen was: normally, where circumstances

demanded, he was the most punctilious of men and, in the presence of the

bo’sun, he would never have spoken as he had done to wilson and myself.

He glowered at me and walked out.

he hadn’t given my permission, but he hadn’t refused it either. I

glanced at cummings; he nodded and rose to his feet.

we had luck in the conditions for our search, the purser and i, in

that we didn’t have to turf anyone out of their cabins: they were

completely deserted. Radio reports in the morning watch had spoken of

weather conditions deteriorating sharply to the southeast and bulletins

had been posted warning of approaching bad weather; the sun decks were

crowded with passengers determined to make the most of the blue skies

before the weather broke. Even old cerdan was on deck, flanked by his

two watchful nurses, the tall one with a big mesh-string knitting bag

and clicking away busily with her needles, the other with a pile of

magazines, reading. You had the impression with them, as with all good

nurses, that less than half their minds were on what they were doing;

without stirring from their chairs they seeded to hover over old cerdan

like a couple of broody hens. I had the feeling that when cerdan paid

nurses to hover he would expect his money’s worth. He was in his wheel

chair, with a richly embroidered rug over his bony knees. I took a good

long look at that rug as I passed by, but I was only wasting my time: so

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