The golden rendezvous by MacLean, Alistair

tightly was that rug wrapped round his skinny shanks that he couldn’t

have concealed a match box under it, far less a radio.

with a couple of stewards keeping watch we went through the suites

on “a” and “b” decks with meticulous care. I had a bridge megger with

me, which was to lend cover to our cover story, if we had to use one,

that we were trying to trace an insulation break in a power cable; but

no passenger with a guilty mind was going to fall for that one for a

moment when he found us in his cabin, so we thought the stewards a good

idea.

there should have been no need for any passenger aboard the campari

to have a radio. Every passenger’s cabin on the ship, with the

campari’s usual extravagance, was fitted out with not one but two

bulkhead relay receivers, fed from a battery of radios in the telegraph

lounge; eight different stations could be brought into circuit simply by

pressing the eight pre-selector buttons. This was all explained in the

brochure, so normally nobody thought of bringing radios along.

cummings and I missed nothing. We examined every cupboard,

wardrobe, bed, drawer, even my ladies’ jewel boxes. Nothing. Nothing

anywhere, except in one place: miss harcourt’s cabin. There was a

portable there, but then I had known that there had been one: every

night when the weather was fine, miss harcourt would wander out on deck,

clad in one of her many evening gowns, find a chair, and twiddle around

the tuning knob till she found some suitable soft music. Maybe she

thought it lent something to the air of enchantment and mystery that

should surround a movie queen; maybe she thought it romantic; it could

have been, of course, that she just liked soft music. However it was,

one thing was certain-miss harcourt was hot our suspect: not to put too

fine a point on it, she just didn’t have the intelligence. And, in

fairness, despite her pretensions, she was too nice.

I retired, defeated, to the bridge and took over from jamieson.

Almost an hour elapsed before another defeated man came to the bridge:

captain bullen. He didn’t have to tell me he was defeated: it was

written on him, in the still, troubled face, the slight sag of the broad

shoulders. And a mute head shake from me told him all he needed to

know. I made a mental note, in the not unlikely event of lord dexter

turfing us both out of the blue mail, to turn down any suggestions by

captain bullen that we should go into a detective agency together; there

might be faster ways of starving, perhaps, but none more completely

certain.

we were on the second leg of our course now, 10 degrees west of

north, heading straight for nassau. Twelve hours and we would be there.

My eyes ached from scanning the horizons and skies; even although I knew

that there were at least ten others doing the same thing, still my eyes

ached. Whether I believed mcLlroy’s suggestion or not, I certainly

behaved as if I did. But the horizon remained clear, completely,

miraculously clear, for this was normally a fairly heavily travelled

steamer lane. And the loud-speaker from the radar room remained

obstinately silent. We had a radar screen on the bridge but rarely

troubled to consult it: walters, the operator on watch, could isolate

and identify a blip on the screen long before most of us could even see

it.

after maybe half an hour’s restless pacing about the bridge, bullen

turned to go. Just at the head of the companionway he hesitated,

turned, beckoned me, and walked out to the end of the starboard wing. I

followed.

“I’ve been thinking about dexter,” he said quietly. “What would be

the effect i’m past caring about the passengers now; i’m only worried

about the lives of every man and woman aboard-if I announced that dexter

had been murdered?”

“Nothing,” I said. “If you can call mass hysteria nothing.”

“You don’t think the fiends responsible for all this might call it

off? whatever ‘it’ is?”

“I’m dead certain they wouldn’t. As no mention has been made of

dexter yet, no attempt to explain away his absence, they must know we

know he’s dead. They’ll know damned well that the officer of the watch

can’t disappear from the bridge without a hue and cry going up. We’d

just be telling them out loud what they already know without being told.

You won’t scare this bunch off. People don’t play as rough as they do

unless there’s something tremendous at stake.”

“That’s what I thought myself, johnny,” he said heavily. “That’s

just what I thought myself.” he turned and went below, and I had a

sudden foreknowledge of how bullen would look when he was an old man.

I stayed on the bridge until two o’clock, long past my usual time

for relief, but then i’d deprived jamieson, who had the afternoon watch,

of much free time that morning. A tray came up to me from the galley,

and for the first time ever I sent an offering by henriques back

untouched. When jamieson took over the bridge he didn’t exchange a word

with me except routine remarks about course and speed. From the

strained, set expression on his face you would have thought he was

carrying the mainmast of the campari over his shoulder. Bullen had been

talking to him; he’d probably been talking to all the officers. That

would get them all as worried as hell and jittery as a couple of old

spinsters lost in the casbah; I didn’t see that it would achieve

anything else.

I went to my cabin, closed the door, pulled off shoes and shirt,

and lay down on my bunk-no four-posters for the crew of the

campari-after adjusting the louvre in the overhead cold-air trunking

until the draught was directed on my chest and face. The back of my

head ached and ached badly. I adjusted a pillow under it and tried to

ease the pain. It still ached, so I let it go and tried to think.

Somebody had to think and I didn’t see that old bullen was in any state

for it. Neither was i, but I thought all the same. I would have bet my

last cent that the enemy-i couldn’t think of them as anything else by

this time-knew our course, destination, and time of arrival almost as

well as we did ourselves. And I knew that they couldn’t afford to let

us arrive in nassau that night, not, at least, until they had

accomplished what they had set out to accomplish, whatever that might

be. Somebody had to think. Time was terribly short.

by three o’clock i’d got nowhere. I’d worried all round the

problem as a terrier worries an old slipper; i’d examined it from every

angle; i’d put forward a dozen different solutions, all equally

improbable, and turned up around dozen suspects, all equally impossible.

My thinking was getting me nowhere. I sat up, careful of my stiff neck,

fished a bottle of whisky from a cupboard, poured a drink, watered it,

knocked it back, and then, because it was illegal, helped myself to

another. I placed this second on the table by my bunk and lay down

again.

the whisky did it. I’ll always swear the whisky did it; as a

mental lubricant for rusted-up brains it has no parallel. After five

more minutes of lying on my back, staring sightlessly up at the cold-air

trunking above my head, I suddenly had it. I had it suddenly,

completely and all in a moment, and I knew beyond doubt that I had it

right. The radio! the receiver on which the message to the wireless

office had been intercepted! there had been no radio. God, only a

blind man like myself could have missed it; of course there had been no

radio. But there had been something else again. I sat bolt upright

with a jerk, archimedes coming out of his bath, and yelped as a hot

blade skewered through the back of my neck. “Are you subject to these

attacks often or do you always carry on like this when you are alone?”

a solicitous voice enquired from the doorway. Susan beresford, dressed

in a square-necked white silk dress, was standing in the entrance, her

expression half amused, half apprehensive. So complete had been my

concentration that i’d never even heard the door open.

“Miss beresford.” I rubbed my aching neck with my right hand.

“What are you doing here? you know passengers are not allowed in the

officers’ quarters?”

“No? I understood my father had been up several times in the past

few trips talking to you.”

“Your father is not young, female, and unmarried.”

“Pfui!” she stepped into the cabin and closed the door behind her.

All at once the smile was no longer on her face. “Will you talk to me,

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